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brain-rot-central · 8 months

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Pegging Your Vampire Boyfriend: A Beginner's Guide

A/N: This is exactly what you think it is. Kudos to @kittenintheden & Shaurbox for teasing this pegging idea with me over a month ago. It hasn't left my head since.

Rating: E, a very hard E Words: 5.3k Pairing: Spawn!Astarion/Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+, pegging, bdsm- soft!Dom Tav & sub!Astarion, bottom!Astarion, praise kink, ear play, size kink if you squint, inappropriate use of magical scrolls, oral sex - fellatio, anal fingering, anal sex, trauma mention, intimacy issues, verbalized consent, blood warning

Summary: Astarion has been on the receiving end before, but not since he's gotten with you. Wanting to try it again, he propositions you in a rather intimate way.

“Darling?”

A soft, questioning voice calls out from the living quarters of your shared home.

“I'm in the kitchen, love,” you respond. You're standing before the countertop, fileting a roast of beef into smaller portions for easier storage.

Wisps of bergamot fill your senses as the inquisitor reveals himself, arms wrapping gently around your waist. His nose dips into the crook of your neck, cool lips planting chaste kisses upon your skin.

“Oh, that smells divine,” he comments. Of course it does - it's a blood-soaked slab of beef. You laugh and lean your head into his, carefully slicing another steak from the meat. He covers the hand holding your knife and brings it carefully to his face, tongue lolling out to drag across the flat of the blade. He sighs in contentment as the blood soaks into his tongue, lavishing the flavor.

You wince as he releases the grip on your hand, gently placing the knife off to the side. I’ll need a new one, now, you comment to yourself.

“Is there something you needed, Astarion?” you ask him.

He hums low in his throat. “Hmm, yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.” He peels himself away from your back and stands straight. His hands are still on your hips and you feel his forehead fall against your back.

In a whisper, he asks, “How do you feel… about taking the reins?”

You turn your head to the side, cocking an eyebrow as you ask, “What do you mean? I was on top last time.”

Astarion laughs against your back, a puff of cool air passing over your clothed skin. “I know, love,” he begins. “I mean to suggest that… you play the part of me. And I… well, you.”

It takes your brain a few seconds to interpret his words, but once it finally comes together, you feel a blush beginning to creep up your chest.

“Oh!” you exclaim, now with full understanding. “A-are you sure? I'm not opposed to it, but I have to admit… I've never done it before.”

Astarion chuckles lightly, tightening his grip around your waist, placing soft kisses along the side of your neck. “Neither have I, my dear.”

You peel yourself out of his embrace, turning your whole body toward him. A scowl lines your face; you know of his history.

“Well, I-” he stammers. “I've been with men, yes; laid on my back a number of times for them.” Astarion casts his eyes to the floor before continuing, “I have never done… this, though. With a woman.”

Expression softening from his explanation, you turn your body again toward the counter, moving yourself over to the sink to begin washing your hands. “Are you sure you want to explore this?” you ask, concern evident. “That it won't bring back… memories?”

He leans against the opposite end of the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “There's no way to truly know unless we try,” he explains. “Though, I must admit, it's been on my mind incessantly, as of late.”

It's your turn to laugh, grabbing a hand towel to dry your hands. “Really?” you ask. “You've been thinking about me fucking you?”

Astarion scoffs, a scowl forming on his face. “Must you be so vulgar?”

You smile, moving toward him to place a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'd be your first?”

He sighs with an eye roll before saying, “Proverbially speaking, yes, you would be my first.” Astarion's hand comes up to hold your chin fast as he captures your lips in a chaste kiss. “My second first.”

You hum in satisfaction, wrapping your arms around his waist. He releases your chin and you rest your head against his chest. “So, how do we do this?” you inquire. “I wouldn't even know the first place to start.”

Leaning his cheek against the side of your forehead, he replies, “Not to worry, I've taken care of that already.”

“Astarion!” you exclaim, lifting your head from his chest.

He smiles as he meets your gaze. “I already told you I've been thinking about it!”

You lightly tap on his chest in a scolding manner before asking, “How did you know I'd even be okay with this idea?”

“I didn't,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “But even if you weren't, I'd still have something to play with later.”

Your face burns at his bold admission, images of him sinking said something into himself flooding your vision. You've never thought of him in that way before, but you quickly admit to yourself just how much it excites you.

“Hello?” Astarion asks innocently, waving his hand over your face. “Are you still with me? Have I given you too much to think about?”

“You're terrible,” you tease, peeling yourself from his embrace in a huff once again. Your face is as red as hot coals, head swimming. “When did you want to try this?”

Astarion cocks his head to one side in thought. “I was thinking tonight?” he answers. “Or sometime soon. Whatever works for you, love.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you say, “Alright, then. Tonight it is.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Evening has fallen and you're fresh from the bath. You walk out into your shared bedroom, bathrobe wrapped snugly around your form as you dry your hair with a towel. Astarion bathed earlier as you cleaned the kitchen, telling you he would use the opportunity to prepare for your night ahead.

“Ah, there you are!” he exclaims in joy. “I've been waiting for you.” Dipping down into the drawer of the end table next to the bed, Astarion says, “There are a couple options we can choose from, darling.”

Astarion is dressed in nothing but his ruffled white shirt with the front laces undone, and his favorite pair of baby-blue and gold underwear. The hem of the shirt covers his underwear, giving off the illusion of wearing nothing underneath.

Standing up straight, he's now holding a tube of rolled parchment in one hand and a phallic toy in the other. “We have a scroll of Mystical Phallus,” Astarion explains, “or, your more traditional approach.”

You smirk as you run the towel through your damp hair, letting your bathrobe fall to the floor. Lifting your chin toward the direction of the parchment, you ask, “What's the deal with the scroll?”

Astarion clears his throat as the robe falls off your form, eyes quickly roaming over your newly exposed skin. He turns to place the toy back in the drawer, returning to meet your gaze before saying, “The shopkeeper explained it as ‘granting the caster a temporary phallus that's as close to the real thing.’ Not quite sure to what level it goes, but I'll admit - I am curious.”

“Alright, let's go with that one, then,” you decide, walking over to take the scroll from his hand.

You're not too familiar with magic, being a soldier and all, but you've used scrolls before. Opening the paper tube, you're relieved to find that the spell is a rather simple one.

As you recite the incantation etched within the scroll, a faint blue light envelops the room for a mere moment. The light fades, the scroll disintegrating, and you can't help but notice an unfamiliar heaviness between your thighs that wasn't there before.

“Oh,” Astarion comments, shifting his weight onto one hip, accompanied by a hand. “Well, that's rather generous.”

Looking down, your eyes drink in the source of your discomfort. Glowing blue, and well endowed, lay a cock. Your cock, at least for tonight. It juts up proudly in the air from between your thighs, seeming like an extension of your clitoris. Other parts, thankfully, have remained unchanged.

“...Oh,” is all you manage, continuing to survey the mystical length. “This… this is mine?”

Astarion walks over, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you. “It would appear as such,” he states. “And my, oh my, how beautiful it is.”

You scowl, meeting his gaze. You're suddenly uncomfortable, his eyes flitting between yours and your newly summoned appendage. “I don't know what to do, Astarion,” you admit in a hushed tone.

He chuckles lightly. “Touch it, love,” he says, reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. It's your cock.”

Nodding your head, you bring a hand up hesitantly to brush over your new addition. “Ah!” you exclaim in shock, your fingertips passing over the bulbous tip. A familiar pulling sensation in your groin begins to stir as you bend slightly inward.

Astarion, looking up at you with wide eyes, asks, “So? How does it feel?”

You can feel everything, as if this has always been part of your anatomy. Each feathered touch sends sparks of electricity up and through you, snagging behind a peculiar spot in your lower stomach.

“Real, Astarion,” you sigh in disbelief, giving yourself a few more tentative touches along the shaft. “I feel like this is my cock.”

“Do you, now?” he quips in a sultry tone. “Is it okay if I do this, then?”

Your mind barely has time to register what he might be implying before Astarion drags the flat of his tongue up the underside of your ethereal summon. Your vision blanks from the sensation, nearly toppling over had Astarion not been bracing you.

“Wh-what was that?” you yell, nearly breathless.

Concern outlining his face, Astarion asks from below you, “Too much? We can stop, if you want.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “N-no,” you respond. “No, that's not it.” Placing a hand on his head, you brush his fallen curls out of his eyes, meeting them with yours. “If this is even remotely close to how you feel when it's me doing this,” you explain, “then I appreciate the level of self-control you maintain over yourself.”

Astarion hums in satisfaction, placing a quick kiss along your shaft before rising to his feet. “It's a lot, I'll admit,” he tells you. Your length jumps in response, and he smiles. “Especially how you suck my cock.”

You're barely able to respond before Astarion’s kissing you; soft, but passionate. His hands grab hold of your hips, drawing you in closer until your centers meet. You moan into his mouth as he repeats the motion a few times, your jaw going slack under his ministrations.

His arousal is evident through the fabric of his undergarments, though not quite there just yet. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you roll your hips into his with vigor, a bolt of pleasure pulling behind your pubic bone. He groans, tangling his tongue with yours, and begins walking you back until you hit the wall behind you.

Astarion asks, “Do you want me to do that to you, darling?” breathily, breaking the kiss. A hand winds in your hair, pulling your head to the side as he licks a stripe up the side of your neck.

You shudder under his touch, grinding your length against his clothed erection again, searching for friction. “O-oooh-nly,” you groan, “i-if you want.”

Astarion pulls himself back entirely, tapping a finger lightly on your chest. “Ah-ah-ah,” he chides, “I asked you. I already know what I want.”

You close your eyes in frustration, hips involuntarily lurching forward in an attempt to catch more contact. You feel how heavy your cock is - painfully hard between your legs, desperate for release. It throbs in time with your clit, and you feel the wetness of your arousal beginning to gather at the apex of your thighs.

“Y-yes, please,” you gasp, thighs rubbing together in a hopeless quest for relief.

Satisfied, Astarion plants a kiss along your jaw, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders. “Good girl,” he purrs as he begins to kneel again. Tracing a line of kisses down your body, starting between the valley of your breasts, his hands move down to cup each within his palms.

Rolling the sensitive peaks of your nipples between his fingertips, your body jerks again, cock brushing ever so lightly against his chest as he continues kissing down the plane of your abdomen. Astarion, now sitting on his heels, braces his hands against your thighs.

He looks up to meet your eyes through full lashes. “Please tell me to stop if it becomes too much,” he tells you, genuine concern lacing his tone.

You hum in agreement, a hand coming up to tangle within the silver locks atop his head. Watching as he closes his eyes, Astarion licks again at the underside of your cock, base to tip. You shudder as his hand wraps delicately around your shaft, peeling the foreskin back. He takes a few tentative passes with his tongue along your frenulum, meeting your eyes momentarily to gauge your reaction.

Your hips buck and stutter under his tongue, a string of pleasured gasps and guttural moans slipping past your lips. The hand in his hair tightens as he takes the head of you past his lips, suckling softly on the sensitive gland.

It takes a world of restraint not to shove the rest of yourself into the inviting cavern of his mouth. Astarion must know this, however, as the hand still planted on your thigh moves to your hip, holding you still. He doesn’t leave you wanting for long, passing as much of your length into his mouth as he can manage, his hand following you down to the base. He flattens his tongue on the way back up, hollowing out his cheeks as he reaches the tip, only to do it all over again.

Knees growing weak, you push your back into the wall behind you to hold yourself steady. The hand in his hair slips, pads of your fingers passing just over the tip of his ear. Astarion moans at the faint touch, the vibration shooting up through your cock and spreading like wildfire throughout your abdomen. You perform the same motion again, and Astarion begins craning his head into your touch.

“A-ah-” he gasps, pulling himself off of you. “Darling, if you keep doing that, I-”

His mouth falls open in a delicate pant, eyes flitting closed as he works his spittle over your length with his hand. You continue toying with the outer shell of his ear, intrigued at this new discovery, and he rests his forehead against your hip.

“I never knew you had such sensitive ears,” you comment as you look down, watching him rub his thighs together as his hips buck up and down into the air.

With a drawn out groan, Astarion explains, “I’m an elf, my love. We all have sensitive ears.”

“Noted,” you respond, shakily bringing a hand down to join him along your shaft. You softly peel off his touch, lacing your fingers together. “I-I think I want to try something else, now,” you admit.

Smiling, Astarion slowly rises to his feet, cradling your jaw within his hand. His lips, swollen and soft from his prior activity, find yours; his kiss is desperate - hungry. “What do you have in mind?” he questions between quickly stolen breaths.

A fire swells within your core, and you're suddenly met with the same raging intensity and desire displayed in Astarion's kiss.

Hand tangling within his mess of moonlit curls once again, you pull Astarion’s head back, exposing the marble column of his throat. He groans when you drag the flat of your tongue over the apple of his throat, hips jerking into yours.

“I want to try fucking you,” you whisper into his skin, grinding your conjured length against his concealed erection to punctuate your intent. The coiling in your core winds tighter, but not enough to snap just yet.

As his weight presses into you, his hands grip your biceps for stability. Another roll of his hips and he sighs, dropping his head down to catch your eyes. “Are you sure?” he questions, breathless. “Because I'd really like that.”

With a nod of your head, your hands travel up under the hem of his shirt to settle on strong, narrow hips. Your lips meet again, the kiss just as ravenous as before, and begin walking you both toward the bed. When Astarion’s knees hit the edge of the bed, he gently falls back, with you quickly closing the distance above him.

“You needn’t worry about preparation,” he reveals as you lavish attention on his neck. “I took care of that earlier.”

He shudders beneath you as you mouth his scars. “Isn’t that part of this whole process?” you ask while hooking your hands into the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.

Astarion lifts his hips up and laughs, providing enough space for you to slide the cotton fabric down and off his form. “It is, but I figured it was gracious enough of you to entertain this idea,” he explains. “Prep for this is… well, intimate.” He averts your gaze for a brief moment, drawing a large breath in before continuing, “I would understand if it didn’t appeal to you.”

Removing yourself from his reach, you sit back over your legs. His face shifts uneasily at your sudden withdrawal. “Astarion,” you begin to tell him, “I’m not ashamed of your body. I want to explore this as a couple.” He’s drawn his legs together in a likely attempt at covering himself. You place a hand atop one knee, rubbing soft circles as you say reassuringly, “All of it, together. So, please. Let me?”

Astarion sits up with a smile, and rests his forehead over yours. “If you keep being this nice to me, I may just return the favor,” he says, light-heartedly.

“You already do, Astarion,” you tell him with a laugh. “Always the gentleman.”

His kiss is a quick peck over your lips as he tells you, “There's a bottle of oil in the bedside drawer. Grab it, and I'll show you what to do.”

You nod, sliding off the mattress and doing as instructed. Astarion moves himself higher into the center of the bed, sinking into the comforter and pillows. The bed dips below him as you climb back on, bottle of viscous liquid in hand.

“Pour some into one palm and rub your hands together, love,” he instructs. “This helps warm the oil.”

Popping the stopper off the bottle, you pour the cool, thick, opaque fluid out into your hand. You reapply the cork, placing it face up on top of the bedside drawer, rubbing the palms of your hands together. It takes a bit, but inevitably your body heat begins to seep into the oil.

Astarion lay before you, eyes beginning to hood over as he follows your hands. His legs fall silently open as his breath hitches for a mere moment. “Good,” he says encouragingly, his voice an octave lower. “Now, come here. Between my legs.”

You move in closer and note how the hem of his shirt is obscuring his cock from view. You can just make it out, though - it pushes against the fabric of the shirt, tenting it slightly and you swear you see a small darkened spot right where the tip of his cock lay hidden. Looking up, your eyes drink in how his collar has fallen to one side, sliding down and off his right shoulder, exposing his collar bone. Astarion normally wears this shirt with the sleeves rolled up tight, yet today, he's chosen to wear them loose.

His hands, half covered by the cuffs of his sleeves, envelop yours in a gentle embrace as he guides your slickened fingers to his core. Astarion stills for a moment, and you look up to find him staring back at you.

There's an expression on his face that you’re not immediately familiar with - it's not fear, excitement, or lust, really. Yet, the longer you study him, recognition begins to dawn over you.

It's the same look you've given him countless times before on this very bed, having thrown caution to the wind as you entwine the very fabric of your souls together.

Astarion is… submitting himself. To you.

Something majorly delicate, knowing his past.

You know of what he was forced to endure while being compelled into submission.

The barrage of lovers who cared not for the person below them; who saw him only as a means to an end. A quick pump, a cheap lay, a tool to scratch a nagging itch.

“Some people refer to the moment of climax as ‘a little death,’” he’d once told you. That was before you knew just how many he'd lead to their actual deaths.

True to form, Astarion's words are often double-edged blades. His mind dances constantly on the edge of pleasure and shame. You see it in his face, now. He’s standing on that precipice, knowing not whether to jump head first or step back.

You swallow thickly and stare back at him, unblinking, before saying, “You can always tell me if it becomes too much, and I will stop.” You pause for a brief moment before adding, “Pleasure is my only intent, Astarion.”

A smile graces his lips as he welcomes your fingers to make first contact with his entrance. “Oh, my dear,” he says with a sigh, “I’ve never doubted that about you.”

Leaning over him as you press the pads of two fingers teasingly against his tight ring of muscle, you kiss him. Astarion groans softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face as he arches into the kiss. He’s grinding down lightly into your fingers, meeting each of your chaste touches against him.

“How many should I start with?” you ask softly, breaking the kiss for a brief moment.

“Two,” he answers, voice but a whisper against your lips. “Whichever ones you want.”

Humming into his mouth, you begin pushing your fingers into his entrance. Astarion’s breath hitches as you breach the perimeter, shoving his head back against the pillows. He instinctively tries closing his legs around you, though you hold one open with your free hand.

You still your movements, giving him a chance to adjust to the intrusion. “Is it alright?” you ask him.

Astarion nods his head as he moves a hand under his shirt to toy with a nipple. “Yes,” he huffs out. “I'm more than fine, love.”

Emboldened to the task at hand, you move, gently pushing and pulling your fingers within him. You feel his muscles contract around you and you briefly wonder if this is what he feels when he's inside of you. The thought sends a bolt of pleasure to your cunt, reverberating as a twitch of your cock.

You look down to watch your fingers as they work him open, and finally see his cock laying against the plane of his abdomen. Compared to the pallor of the rest of him, his length is flushed pink and red, and you can make out the labored beating of his undead heart as his cock thumps softly against his stomach. Pre-fluid seeps from his tip, gathering in a small puddle just below his navel. Bending down, you catch a small rivulet rolling off his hip with your tongue, tracing it back to the source. Astarion shudders under you, threading his free hand through your hair as he pushes down onto your fingers.

You're beginning to understand that this isn't too different from your usual sexual encounters with one another. It's truly just a mirroring of your typical positions. Out of curiosity, you curl your fingers upward in one particular pass, and his entire body spasms beneath you.

“Fuck, darling, yes… You've found it,” Astarion groans out, labored. The grip in your hair tightens and he begins fucking himself in earnest on your fingers, a string of moans falling from his lips as he passes that same spot over and over again.

Your cunt aches and your cock throbs watching the scene before you. To see him unraveling before you, submitting himself to the pleasure of the moment is intoxicating. His legs have fallen open again and you watch, diligently, at how easily your fingers glide in and out of his core.

“I- I need more,” Astarion suddenly chokes out. You meet his gaze and through lust-hooded eyes, he says, “Please… let me ride you.”

He's pleading, you notice. Begging. Your eyes travel down his form again, drinking in the wanton display of him splitting himself open over your fingers. Your cunt throbs; you think of nothing else in that moment but pulling out your fingers and replacing them with your cock.

To hear the delicious whines, the sobs, the cries that would surely tumble freely from Astarion's lips as he came undone around you. You want this, just as much as he does.

Pulling your hand free from his entrance, Astarion sobs as you crash your lips into his. “I'd love that,” you tell him, honestly.

Astarion begins to sit up, concentrating on never breaking the kiss you share as he aids you both in switching positions. You lay back, him straddling your lap mere moments later. He grinds his taint against your conjured appendage, your shafts brushing, and he cries out in a gentle moan against your lips. He breaks the kiss, reaching for the bottle of oil on the bedside table, dribbling some onto your cock.

With a few languid strokes of your mystical length to spread the oil and he lines himself up over you. Your eyes meet and you hiss through clenched teeth as your tip kisses his entrance, feeling the pressure slide over your glans as he slowly begins to take you.

“A-ahh,” Astarion pants from above you, still holding your cock steady in one hand. You sigh as you feel yourself push past the first ring of muscle, throwing your head back against the pillows. Your hands grip at his thighs as the sensation threatens to overwhelm you, fingertips likely to leave bruises that will be gone come morning.

Once he feels confident that you're nestled far enough inside, he releases his hold on your shaft, resting the palms of his hands against your lower stomach. He continues to slowly take you further in, words in a language you're unfamiliar with spilling from his mouth, until he's flush against your thighs.

Both of you freeze in that moment - you struggle to control your ragged breathing as he flutters around you, Astarion taking a moment to adjust to this foreign, but not unpleasant, sensation.

“H-how do I feel?” he asks in a hushed voice.

Truthfully? He feels… astounding. Tight, wet, and warmer than you would have thought for a vampire. When he lifts his hips, you feel the air being pulled out of your lungs. His walls drag deliciously along your shaft, and a nagging pull starts to build behind your navel.

Your mouth drops open in a silent gasp as your eyes meet his through hooded lids. “A-amazing,” you pant out. “You feel so good, Astarion.”

He moans above you, his head falling to one side as he rolls his hips over your cock. His shirt hangs off one shoulder, the hem obscuring his cock again from view. Though, you feel its weight slap against your stomach with each lift and drop of his hips.

Astarion’s voice comes out strained when he says, “Tell me again… please.”

You feel your cock twitch within him; he clenches around you as he locks eyes with you, waiting patiently for a response. Strands of sweat-soaked hair stick to his face, and on one particular stroke of his hips, you brush up against that place inside of him that forces his vision to blur at the edges. His mouth begins to salivate.

“Please, please, please,” he begs impatiently, voice an octave higher now. He's practically sobbing, spearing himself over your cock so each roll is angled to hit his prostate. You meet his thrusts from below, coil winding tighter within your abdomen as his walls continue to massage your cock.

You're not going to last much longer.

“You're so good for me, Astarion,” you say, obliging him. “You're being such a good boy.”

Astarion's mouth drops open as he bows his head forward, his entire body dipping down over you as a shudder passes through him. “Yes,” he whines, rocking back on your hips with renewed vigor. You feel his cock lay flat against your abdomen in this new position. It drags over your stomach, pre-fluid dripping from his tip and onto your skin providing an easier surface.

I am! And beautiful - not enough people mention that.

His words from long ago echo in your mind as you drink in his expression. He's gorgeous above you; handsome to begin with, but as he slips further toward toppling over the Cliff's edge, his beauty is quickly becoming amplified as he continues to lose composure.

“You’re beautiful like this,” you coo to him, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub over an ear.

Astarion's body is wracked by yet another tremor as he cries, “Darling, if you don’t-, I will-, I'm going-!” His head nestles into the hand toying with his ear and his hips pump erratically over your cock, having lost his prior rhythm.

You suck in a sharp breath, jaw clenched as Astarion becomes impossibly tighter around your shaft, and you groan. You're so close, so very close that all you need is one more thing to push yourself over the edge.

“Let go, Astarion,” you say, somehow finding the rhythm in his desperate rutting. The sound of skin slapping roughly fills the room as your hips meet his on his downstroke. You wrap a hand around the outline of his cock tenting his shirt, and jerk him in tempo with your thrusts.

He’s sobbing, loud and unabashedly. With one particular pass of your fingers over the outer tip of his ear, Astarion suddenly unwinds. He yells his pleasure above you, collapsing onto your chest as wave after wave overcomes him. You feel his spend seep into the fabric of his shirt and onto the skin of your abdomen in a small warm pool.

It doesn't take long for the involuntary spasming of his core over your cock to send you spiraling into your own completion. Moans slip freely past your lips and you feel your folds become soaked, drippinh down the cleft of your ass as your relief washes over you. You bury your face against Astarion's hair, breathing in his soft silver curls and the signature cologne you know so well.

As you both begin to come down off your highs, you wrap your arms around his back and hold him tightly against your chest. You feel the spell of the phallus lift, Astarion whimpering softly as it vanishes from within him. You both lay on the bed, panting, trying to catch your breath for what feels like ages.

Astarion is first to lift up his head and say, “That… that was amazing.”

“Mm,” you hum in agreement. You can barely open your eyes as fatigue begins to set in.

Taking a finger, Astarion traces circles absentmindedly into your skin as he rests his head back down over your chest. “Darling?” he asks softly. “May I tell you something?”

Sleep almost has its claws in you when you jolt back awake, forcing your eyes to snap open and find Astarion. “Hmm?” you groan in question.

With a quick huff, Astarion says, “I just wanted to thank you for doing this with me.” He places a quick peck below your jawbone before adding, “It was really nice.”

You sigh audibly, and say “It was, we should do this again.” Your eyelids are impossibly heavy; sleep is threatening to claim you and will do so in mere moments. “I love you,” you manage to mumble out before slipping gently out of consciousness.

Astarion smiles into your skin as he says, “I love you, too,”

I love this, he thinks.

I love us.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion x female oc #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #bg3 #fanfiction #writing

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nicsnort · 6 days

Text

Hello Neighbor

NSFW 18+ male werewolf x female reader Contains: vaginal sex, knotting, mentions of breeding, going into heat, desperate sex

Word count: 3,401 Lore/World Building Prompt

You're part of a study using an experimental skin cream. The effects have been interesting, but suddenly take a turn for the horny. Luckily, your werewolf neighbor is willing to help you out.

“Thank you,” the researcher said as she finished rubbing the experimental cream into your skin. “As always, contact us immediately if there are any sudden changes in your mental state or physical concerns. Please return for your next application next week.”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile. It had been four months since you started the trials, and you know the drill now. Honestly, this had been one of the best choices in your life. When you first saw the ad on social media looking for volunteers for a body-enhancing topical cream based on monster science, you thought it was a scam, especially when you saw that they were paying a hundred a week with a bonus of two thousand for those who completed the full six-month trial. But you took the risk, and damn was it paying off. All you had to do was be slathered in a topical cream every week, do a finger prick blood test daily at home, and submit a five-minute check-in about anything strange you noticed about your body or mind at the end of the day.

You weren’t sure what they were exposing you to; they couldn’t tell you as it could interfere with their results or something. Initially, you had experienced some mood swings and increased aggression. Still, it had settled down, and now the only noticeable effects were your sense of smell and hearing becoming more sensitive. It was sometimes annoying, given that you lived in an apartment complex, but it was not a huge hassle.

Before heading home, you swung by the grocery store to pick up some milk and meat. That was something else; you had been craving meat a lot since this started. While walking around the grocery store, you noticed a minotaur and a naga looking at you with interest. A blush came to your cheeks. Could they smell the cream on you? Usually, you went right home after an appointment, so you had never been out in public - and certainly not around monsters. They have been increasingly common in the area since the segregation laws were overturned, allowing humans and sentient monsters to mix freely. The older folks who remembered the Great Incursion hated it, but you didn’t mind too much. Most monsters are just like humans, merely with different physicality and cultures…and magical powers half the time.

With groceries gathered, you quickly headed home. Walking towards your building, you saw your next-door neighbor—a werewolf. He moved in six months ago for work and spent most of his time in hybrid form. Apparently, he was from the other side of the Rift, so he never had to use his humanoid form. Honestly, you never understood how people said they found monsters that didn’t look human attractive until you met him with his thick mahogany fur, piercing golden eyes, full tail, and broad chest that was barely contained by his human-style clothes…you could have sworn he was flirting with you the first couple of months after he moved in. Yet, his interest fell off a few months ago. He stayed friendly, though.

“Good day, neighbor,” he greeted with a smile. “Need help with those?”

“Thanks, Darrick. That’d be great.” Maybe it was because he wanted to prove he wasn’t a threat, but Darrick was extremely friendly. According to the DMA guides, werewolves were very social monsters due to their pack instinct, so maybe it was just that.

He took the heavy meat-filled shopping bag from your arms while you carried the milk. As he did, you noticed his large, wet nose flare and his pointed ear turn forward with interest. Another blush came to your cheeks. He could smell that cream on you, couldn’t he? Though you had to admit, his scent today was marvelous. A deep, musky scent caused your blush to travel across your body, transforming into an aroused flush.

Entering the building, you were deeply aware of his presence behind you as you climbed the steps to the second floor. Even more so, with each sway of your hips, you were aware of how deeply aroused you had suddenly become. Your swollen lips rubbed against the cloth of your panties with each stair. You had been feeling sensitive the past few days, but why did your arousal spike now?!

You stopped outside your door. As you fumbled for your keys, you heard Darrick sniff rapidly, his hot body leaning over you, caging you against the door. Glancing back, you saw his long tongue flick out from behind his sharp teeth as though tasting the air. Your mind instantly flashed to what that tongue would feel like between your legs.

“I got it from here, thanks,” you told him, desperate to get away before you did something you regretted as the scent of his musk filled your nostrils.

Your voice seemed to jolt something in him. “Right, of course,” he bent down and put the bag down on the ground. But that was a mistake. His muzzle was right at your crotch now. The scent of your arousal certainly reached his wolven nose.

On instinct, Darrick pressed his nose against your crotch. You could feel his damp, heated breath through your jeans. His chest rumbled with a low growl, the vibrations reaching down his snout to your aching mound. A pleasured, wanting moan escaped your throat. You leaned against the door, your hips tilting up, legs spreading slightly, humping his muzzle lightly. His pointed canine teeth, barred together, provided a teasing friction against your clit.

CRACK!

You jumped at the sudden sound. Darrick had driven his claws into the wall, breaking the drywall. He wrenched his snout away from you with a pitiful whine, standing quickly and moving back. “I am so sorry! I wasn’t trying to stake a claim.”

“What,” you asked hazily, trying to shake your head of the lust. “A claim…”

“It has just been months since I have been around a woman in heat, and I lost control,” Darrick continued, not hearing your response at first. Then he paused while backing up a bit more.

“Darrick, what do you mean by ‘a woman in heat’?” Even as you spoke, your eyes were drawn across him. There was a massive bulge straining his pants. Your inner walls clenched with desire.

“Sorry,” you apologize, tearing your eyes away and fumbling once more for the door. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s the cream. I need to report this to the researchers…”

Finally, you managed to open the door. Stumbling inside, you barely made it to the fridge to put away the milk. Shit, the meat. Heading back to the hall, half bent over in a vain attempt to avoid aggravating your burning crotch. Darrick was standing in the doorway, a look of concern fighting lust on his face. Not that you saw that for long as your half-bent over position put you right at his bulging groin. Your mouth parted in desire at the sight. The scent wafted to your nose. If it weren’t for Darrick catching your shoulder and holding you back, you would have desperately rubbed your face against the bludge.

“Control yourself, Darrick,” he growled to himself, pushing you back inside the apartment while bringing your groceries in and shutting the door. “You’re not a pup anymore.”

“Noooo,” you whined as he forced you to sit on the couch and stepped away to put the meat on the counter. As you watched him, your hand grabbed your breast through your shirt, massaging it. “You have to leave. If you stay, I’ll end up begging you to fuck me.”

As desperately horny as you had become, the admission did not embarrass you one bit. Darrick breathed out slowly, trying to control himself. “Where is your phone? I will call your mate. He shouldn’t be leaving you alone during your heat.”

“Mate,” you questioned. That word alone resonated with you. Yes, you wanted to mate. Fucked raw like an animal.

“Or husband, whatever term humans use. Whoever is the irresponsible wolf that has marked you with his scent so thoroughly and left you alone to deal with your heat.”

“I don’t know any other werewolves, Darrick,” you told him. The term heat was finally jogging your memory. “You’re the only one I’ve ever met. And humans don’t have a heat. I think whatever is happening has to do with the study I’m participating in. Some cream to enhance my body or something. They said arousal could be a side effect, but I didn’t think like this…”

Your hand wandered down to your pants. It slipped inside as you stroked yourself, trying to cool the ache there. Darrick stood stock still, completely focused on you, as your fingers stroked wildly. “You smell so good, Darrick. Please, you gotta leave before I jump you. Or else fuck me. I’ve dreamt about you bending me over my bed so many--”

Like a dam breaking, Darrick rushed over. His tall, fur-covered body bent over the couch, trapping you on it. “One last time,” he growled, barely able to restrain himself. “For clarity. The scent on you is this cream? Another werewolf has not mated you? And you want me to mate with you?”

You answered each question as he asked him. “Yes…No…Please, yes, fuck me, please!”

Without a spoken response, Darrick scooped you up in his arms. He carried you into your bedroom and dumped you on the bed. His chest heaved as took in deep, steadying breaths as though he was trying not to pounce on you immediately. Even as he did, his hands roamed over your shirt as he roughly tugged it off you. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to be gentle.”

“I don’t want gentle right now,” you told him, kicking off your shoes and hurriedly undoing your jeans. “I want you to fuck me with your fat cock until I’m satisfied.”

A primal growl of want escaped his throat. In two short movements, he removed your bra, his claws slicing it off, and tossed it away. Your skin was flushed with desire, nipples already hard with want. Darrick’s large paws covered your breasts, massaging them as he pushed you down against the bed. His long, hot tongue met your neck as he licked you ravenously. Every so often, you felt his pointed teeth scrape across your skin.

You moaned his name. Thrusting your hips upwards, you both tried to finish removing your jeans and gain friction on your needy hole. You managed the first one, but as your hands went to your dripping core, you found a better target. Darrick’s bulge strained against his pants. With deft fingers, you undid his pants and were just about to slip your hand inside his underwear to free him completely when he grabbed your hands. Pulling them above your head, he pinned you down, causing you to whine with displeasure.

“I need to mask that other scent first,” he growled. “Don’t want to smell another wolf. I need to cover you with my scent before I claim you.”

As desperate as you were to be fucked, his words touched a primal part of you, and now nothing sounded better than being marked by him. Inside and outside. Completely and utterly claimed. You wanted any creature who met you to know who you were mated to. That you were his.

Darrick’s muzzle slid down your neck to your chest. With one hand still pining your hands down, the other pressed between your legs. His rough fingers began to stroke, giving you both relief and teasing you as he avoided where you wanted him - his cock - the most. Sharp teeth delicately held your breast as he drew it into his mouth, his tongue lapping across your sensitive nipple. The thick pad of his thumb rubbed against your clit, the claws of his hand pressing into the flesh of your butt.

A needy whimper escaped your throat. With the little space he left you between the bed and his hand, you lifted your hips invitingly. “Please.”

“By Seluna, I need you,” he swore, pulling back. His nose twitched, the scent of your lust overriding any further complaints he might have had about the scent of the cream. You tried to follow him, pull him back down but his burning golden eyes pinned you in place.

Eyes hazy with lust, you watched him pull off his shirt. In his rush, his dangerous claws and sheer strength tore it off. Grabbing his already undone pants, he finally stood completely nude. Your eyes honed in on the long, red, throbbing cock between his legs. The tapered head glistened with precum in the sunlight peeking through your shades. Your core clenched with want.

“On your hands and knees,” he commanded, his words barely recognizable through the thick growl of want in his voice. Without hesitation, you turned around. Settling in the center of the bed, you were on your hands and knees, the aching desire between your legs presented to him.

A long moment passed where all you heard was the huff and puff of his breathing behind you. Then, a cold, wet nose pressed itself against your lower lips. You moaned. Darrick’s broad tongue lapped at the swollen flesh. Panting moans left you as the pleasure built. You were so close. Suddenly, his tongue slipped inside of you.

With a cry of pleasure, you came on his tongue. It wiggled inside of you as your body clenched around it. Finally, he withdrew, his muzzle covered in your juices. “Good mate,” he praised. “So, fertile and willing.”

He shook his head, barely returning to his senses enough to add, “You should take some night tea after, 'cause I’m gonna breed you now.”

“Yes,” you panted with joy. The orgasm took the edge off, but you needed more. Being bred sounded like the best thing in the world. Filled with his thick creamy cum.

Your bed dipped with his weight as he climbed on, positioning himself behind you. You felt the heat radiating off his turgid cock even before its heavy weight rested upon your hips.

“Inside,” you pleaded, rocking your hips. His hands gripped your hips, claws digging in ever so slightly.

“Spread,” he told you, and even in your current state, you could tell from his tone he was barely restraining himself. Eagerly, you obeyed, spreading your knees further apart. Darrick kept a firm grip on your hips as you did, forcing you to lower yourself onto your forearms. Now, you were fully presenting your dripping hole to him.

You felt the magnetic heat of his cock as he lined it up. As his thick length pressed inside, you whined with pleasure. “Yeesssss.”

The prick of his claws was barely enough to keep you from orgasming with just the tip of his cock inside of you. Inch by inch, he slid inside. You tried to press yourself back on him to take in more, but his strong grasp on your hips stopped you. “You’re gonna make me...”

“Please, Darrick, breed me!”

With that plea, he snapped. Pulling back until just the tip was left, he slammed his hips forward. You screamed in pleasure. Unleashed, Darrick pounded into you wildly. Spurred on by the hormones of your heat, he rutted into you with only one thing on his mind: breeding his mate.

With each wild thrust, you could feel your body accepting more of him. His cock filled you up each time your inner walls stretched to take in more. You were moaning and panting with ecstasy. You weren’t even sure if you were orgasming, but the pleasure was overwhelming your mind. You could think of little else but his cock inside of you.

Releasing your hips, Darrick bent over your back. His large hands resting on either side of your head, holding your hands in place. The weight of him pinning you beneath him with no hope of escape - not that you wanted to. His hot breath caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and ear. The growl of his voice reverberated across your whole body. “I’m gonna knot you. Ruin you for human men. You want that, don’t you?”

You gave a whine of pleasure-drunk consent, unable to form words.

With a powerful thrust, you felt him hilt within you. His pointed cock pressed against your womb. Then you felt it. As the glands of his cock expanded, he stretched you. Thicker than anything that had been inside of you before. Yet, the pain of the stretching only added to your pleasure. Your nails dug into your sheets. It was too much. You were so close to breaking. You were…you were…

Your body exploded with ecstasy, juices gushing over his cock. Low, long moans, almost like howls, issued from your throat as you threw your head back. Your inner walls clenched powerfully around his knot, locking it within you.

Then it came. What your body was craving. Darrick threw his head back in a true howl as his thick hot cum filled your womb, searing its claim inside of you. His cum spurred your orgasm to even greater heights. Your eyes rolled back in your head, tongue lolling out, inner walls still clenching around him, drawing in every last ounce of cream. There was so much cum, you thought it would never end. You never wanted it to end. Yet, eventually, your bodies were spent.

Darrick’s knot still firmly resting inside of you, he rolled you both on your sides. His arms were around you, cradling you as you came down from the ecstatic high. His long, wet tongue tiredly but comfortingly lapped at your shoulder and neck.

While you still felt aroused, being filled with his cum and having a knot in you satisfied your primal urge to breed for now. After a few minutes, your mind started to return. What the fuck did you just do? What the fuck happened to you?

“Are you alright,” Darrick asked before you could voice your own concerns.

“Yes…I’m just confused…that’s never happened before. What is that cream doing to me?”

Darrick’s grip tightened around in comfort. “I think I know…there is this story the Elders tell. The first werewolves were created before the Division when our worlds were one. They were humans; warriors granted power by the spirits of nature to temporarily wield the spirit of the wolf to defend their homes. After the Division, the wolf's spirit was permanently bound to us. But we needed mates; most werewolves then were men, and the few that were women could not keep our populations going. So, the moon goddess Seluna took pity on us and let us transform others through sharing our essence…at first, all it required was for us to bite a human, but the sudden merging of wolf and human spirits drove many insane. Therefore, Seluna’s wife, Noctune, goddess of the night, took inspiration from her wife’s slow transformations each night. Sharing our essence would slowly introduce people - our mates or others we deemed worthy - to the wolf spirit so their humanity could adjust before it was made permanent. This also gave humans a chance to change their minds.”

“That’s a lovely story. So, you’re saying this cream is introducing me to werewolf essence? Wait, what is werewolf essence?”

Darrick chuckled a bit nervously. “Blood, saliva, and…” He gently thrust his hips, indicating his cum.

“Wait, so they’ve been covering me in werewolf - I hope - saliva? And that’s been changing my body?” You reeled at this new information. “Wait, so this is actually a heat?”

“Yeah. Usually, the exposure would be done by your mate, and you’d know what was going to happen, and they would help you through it.”

You were silent for a moment. “So, does this make us mates?”

Darrick chuckled nervously again. “We have mated, sure, and you’re going to need help getting through your heat. So, we can do it again. But, I mean, after, we don’t need to be…I mean, I think you’re pretty great. I was really disappointed when I thought you’d been claimed and--”

“I wouldn’t mind trying to date after you finish helping me through this,” you told him, cutting off his adorable ramble. “If you want.”

There were several loud thumps behind him as his tail wagged happily, hitting the bed. “I would like that.”

#werewolf #werewolf x reader #monster x reader #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster x you #monster lover #teratophillia #monster x human #monster kink #monster smut #tw monsterfucking #monster #Department of Monster Affairs

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byuntrash101 · 6 months

Text

𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

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restlessmaknae · 2 months

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water prince // leehan

When you receive a wedding proposal from the Water Kingdom, you are set on making Prince Donghyun change his mind about marrying you. At least, until you actually see him for who he is.

➳ Characters: prince!Leehan (called Donghyun in the story) x princess!female reader/you

➳ Genre: royalty au, arranged marriage au, magical kingdom au, elemental powers au, fluff, comedy, a bit of angst too

➳ Words: 13.7k

➳ Warning: mentions of food, reader almost drowning and being seasick, Leehan's father in the story is quite hostile, Leehan feels insecure about not being loved by his father

➳ A/N: Happiest birthday to the loveliest person on Earth @dat-town❤️ So happy for everything you've achieved and so excited to see what you will continue to achieve! May you have the best year ever, and stay healthy and happy all throughout! ❤️

➳ Taglist: @s00buwu, @dat-town, @emmylksblog

“You are to marry Prince Donghyun.”

You literally choked on your water when your father announced the big news he had assembled the family for. Your little sister patted your back, trying to be helpful, while your mother shot you a surprised look as if she couldn’t decide whether you were appalled or delighted by the news, and that’s why you were so taken aback. Your brother, Sungho, sat in his chair in a calm manner as usual, quietly analysing the situation while cutting his meat into tiny pieces in the quietest way possible.

You couldn’t blame him. You were in the middle of your regularly scheduled dinner in the dining hall of the palace when the King finally told you what he had been hiding from you for sometime. Before that, you couldn’t even know whom it entailed - your little sister, Sunghee, your brother, Sungho, or you -, the only thing you knew was that your father had been in talks with other kingdoms. Which was nothing new, really, it was one of his duties as the King of the Fire Kingdom.

“Why him,” was your first question after you managed to stop coughing, and you couldn’t tell who was more shocked by your question: your mother, your father or your little sister. Sungho seemed rather amused, his lips slightly curling upwards. No wonder he knew you the best.

“Because they offered a wedding proposal?” Your father half-asked, half-answered, and as you put down the glass of water onto the table, you were trying to rationalise his words, but there was nothing you could rationalise about this. From a young age, you knew that this would be your fate, you just didn’t know how to face it now.

“I would rather know why I am supposed to be marrying a prince from the Water Kingdom, if it has to be Prince Donghyun out of all people.”

“They say that he’s really handsome,” Sunghee chirped in, her eyes already forming hearts at the mention of the prince. Then again, she was 15, and she had heart eyes for every prince that she saw at formal events.

“You should feel grateful that he chose you. Princesses from other kingdoms are all lining up for him,” your mother weighed in, nudging you in the side, and you felt like a kid being reprimanded for something that she had done, not a princess who didn’t want to marry a prince who had once tried to sweet talk her into dancing with him at a royal wedding, only to trample on her feet multiple times. That guy was full of mischievous ideas, and you wanted nothing to do with him and his troublemaker ass. Besides, he was said to be full of himself, and you hated nothing more than smug princes who thought that a few compliments would make a princess fall for them.

“Prince Donghyun’s birthday is coming up, and he is supposed to find a bride for himself after his 20th birthday. They sent out the offer on his behalf, but before they expect an answer from you, you are invited to his birthday celebration to get to know him better,” the King explained in detail, and you wanted to evaporate right then and there. Really? You were even invited to his birthday celebration? Was he really that enchanted by that clumsy dance you had had at the wedding, or did the Water Kingdom had ulterior motives behind this decision?

You let out a sigh in return, clearly against the whole thing, but it’s not like you had a say in it. However, you had a say in how you behaved around Prince Donghyun, and actually, this birthday celebration would be the perfect chance to make him change his mind about you - or his family or whoever came up with this stupid idea of being his bride. You could be on your worst behaviour, and make him hate you, or worse, make him disgusted by you, and that’s exactly what you needed.

“When is this celebration?” You inquired from your father who gave you a satisfied smile in return, and told you that he would tell you all of the details and show you the wedding proposal after dinner. Sungho narrowed his eyes at your sudden change of behaviour, but when you turned towards him, you merely mouthed “I know what I’m doing”, and he seemed to believe you, going back to his fig jam-coated meat.

Whenever you attended a formal event in another kingdom, at least two members of your family had to be present. Before you and Sungho had turned 20, you had always needed to be accompanied by an adult - mostly your mother because the King had other duties to attend to. Since you were both deemed responsible adults when it came to age and appropriate behaviour, the two of you could go together to Prince Donghyun’s birthday celebration since your mother was to attend one of her sisters’ wedding with Sunghee the day later you set out to the Water Kingdom.

Since travelling on a ship would have required more people to accompany you (and since you were often seasick when out on the sea), you travelled by carriage, and you were supposed to arrive the day before the actual birthday celebration as per the Water Kingdom’s request. That left you with plenty of time to tell Sungho all about your plan of changing the prince’s mind starting from your choice of dress for the day of your arrival - a beautiful, knee-length black dress with puffy sleeves and a V-neck that highlighted the pretty necklace brightening your pale skin with little diamonds in the shape of a flame. It was an appropriate dress in style and length, maybe the V-line was a bit steep according to some, but it was its colour that mattered. In the Fire Kingdom, black represented the end of something - just like how flames turn to black ashes when they can no longer feed on oxygen -, and usually, you wore black clothes at the seasons’ farewell ceremony. You had a farewell ceremony for all four seasons when you bid goodbye to the previous one and welcomed the new one, gathering around a huge fire and giving your blessings to the kingdom and the royal family.

You highly doubted that Prince Donghyun would be aware of such traditions in your kingdom, but that was the best part of it: that he didn’t know about it, but you knew why you dressed like that. You had other tricks under your sleeve, and whilst Sungho didn’t disapprove of your plan, he was partly worried about your feelings.

“Will you be able to handle that? You hate nothing more than embarrassing yourself,” he pointed out gently, in his own big brother way, when you mentioned that if you had to embarrass yourself for your plan, you were ready to give it your all. The goal was to make Prince Donghyun go back on his words - or beg the one who came up with the idea of you having to marry him to change their mind -, and the journey getting there might not be all rosy, but it would be worth it.

“I’ll make sure I do it subtly enough to not bring embarrassment on myself in front of others. Plus, I think he will want to speak with me in private, so that’s when I need to strike for real,” you announced with a triumphant smile as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The ladies all dolled you up at the palace, but if you were going to a battle, you needed to go in style.

Sungho didn’t show it if he was against your plan, and instead, he directed a topic elsewhere but your looming marriage proposal. This way, at least you didn’t feel like crawling out of your skin until you arrived, and guess what, Prince Donghyun just had to wait for you at the entrance of the palace when the carriage halted and the servants helped you down.

You tried hard not to stare at him because he did look… different. Of course, he looked different, he had been around 16 when you had last seen him; it had been a year after that ominous wedding, and you had seen him in passing in the circle of princesses who cooed all about his beauty and his deep voice and whatnot. Years had passed by, and he grew taller, his shoulders were broader, and his hair was longer, it reached his shoulders already. His features were less boyish, but there was still that mischievous spark in his eyes when you walked up to him after waiting for your brother to get out of the carriage.

You even forgot to look behind him to take in the grandiose palace walls and huge rose windows because he was the main view for you. The way the fading sunlight - late afternoon flowing into early night - shone onto him made him seem like someone from another world, or rather, someone from those fairytales your sister still believed in. If someone embodied royalty, it was him, and you had no idea how he had such an effect on you when you had come here to destroy his plans to marry you.

Alas, you could not let yourself sway just because he was pretty. Beauty could be deceiving, beauty could hurt, and if anyone, you knew that. Being praised for being beautiful, but never being praised for being smart or reliable or kind made you see this whole thing in a new light. So you kept your compliments to yourself, and focused on the boy’s cheeky smile instead.

There was a round of formalities with bowing and courtesy, the servants already hustling-bustling around you, carrying your luggage and gifts, and you heard two ladies from your own kingdom whispering about Prince Donghyun’s angelic smile as they passed by.

You rolled your eyes at their antics, but the Water Kingdom prince either didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t mind. Instead, he posed a question that made you furrow your eyebrows.

“Did you come in black because you’re putting an end to your life without me?”

“Pardon me?”

“I read that black symbolises the end of something in your kingdom,” he pointed out in a casual manner, and you needed to hold yourself back from commenting that you didn’t expect him to do some reading on the Fire Kingdom and its traditions. You could clearly see Sungho’s facial expression though, he was visibly impressed.

The prince gave you a crooked half-smile as he took one step closer to you, closer than before, but not close enough to call it inappropriate. You had a feeling that he was playing at just that; dancing on the fine line of being playfully flirtatious and a bit too much in general.

“But did you know that it symbolises deep love in our kingdom? It’s a metaphor because if you love someone deeply, you would be willing to swim to the bottom of the ocean for them and the bottom is always so dark, almost black,” he continued equally joyfully, but you needed to gulp down the profanities that were threatening to leave your mouth.

Just how could you mess this up so badly? Not only had you chosen a black dress that symbolised deep love in their kingdom, but you had also failed to consider Prince Donghyun actually looking up the meaning of the colour in the Fire Kingdom. Well, you had to give it to him that he won this round, but you wouldn’t have said it out loud for all the money in the world.

So you let Sungho ask about the palace instead while you were ushered inside, and if Prince Donghyun had any itinerary planned for the rest of the day since you were supposedly the only ones who were invited to come a day earlier. Prince Donghyun explained that you would have dinner together and he could show you around the palace afterwards if you were up for it.

“Excellent idea! I would love nothing more than to spend more time with you,” you announced in an overzealous manner, hoping that it could make the prince falter in his good boy role. On the other hand, he seemed rather amused, not weirded out, and suggested that you could check out the lighthouse and the docks if you were that interested. You had no idea that they had such places on palace grounds, but sure, you were in the Water Kingdom after all.

Hoping to direct the topic to something else, when you spotted a bouquet of flowers in a huge vase, you acted oh so innocently as you asked:

“Ah, are these fake?”

“My mother picked them from her garden in the morning. She likes tending to her flowers,” the prince pointed out casually, and you bit down on your tongue in response. Damn it, why couldn’t you get a hold on him?

Sure, you might have been the only kingdom that had fake flowers placed in the palace corridors because they just didn’t grow as exuberant as the ones in the Earth Kingdom, for instance, but you had different climates as well. You would think that the colder, rainy climate of the Water Kingdom didn’t necessarily help flowers flourish, but well… maybe you were wrong about more than just one thing.

You pressed your lips into a thin line, forcing yourself to shut your mouth, while you were following the prince and the servants down the corridors that were full of paintings of the royal family. The amount of paintings about Prince Donghyun from a very young age to present days was overwhelming: him with a book in his hands in what seemed like a library when he was a child, him in the garden surrounded by flowers, him standing by the sea, him standing by a fish tank, him holding a rose and the list goes on…

You weren’t sure whether looking at the actual real-life prince or his painted features was more unsettling, so you did neither and just stared ahead of yourself. Which was a mistake on your part because you managed to walk into the prince’s chest when he halted in front of a room.

“Are you alright, princess?” He inquired with wide eyes as he held you by the shoulders to steady you. You immediately stepped backwards, making him yank his hands away from you.

“I’m alright. It was just a bit dizzying with all the floors and corridors.”

“You will get used to it,” he said naturally, but there was a slight hint of nervousness in the way his eyes darted from your face to Sungho’s when he said the words out loud. Your brother, on the other hand, merely stayed still, calmly listening to your conversation. You were sure that you would hear his opinion on it later on, but for now, he didn’t seem fazed by the boy’s behaviour and flirty remarks.

“So will these be our suites?” Your brother asked to break the silence, and indeed, Prince Donghyun took this opportunity to show you to your rooms. Yours was fully equipped with a bathroom and a restroom, a huge wardrobe, candles by the double bed and a wide wooden desk by the equally wide full-length windows that led to a balcony. What took you by surprise was that the fluffy blankets, the luxurious curtains, the welcoming pillows and the walls of the room were all in different shades of blue, but it was done in an elegant way, so no colour overshadowed the other. However, the sight made you feel as if you were close to the sea, and you didn’t necessarily like it since the sea always reminded you of those boat travels when you got seasick.

Prince Donghyun said that a servant would come by when dinner was ready, but until then, he would let you unpack and settle down. When he got out of sight, you let out an aghast sigh, and fell into the bed, silently screaming into the pillows.

This was so not going as planned.

Dinner was passing by excruciatingly slowly. You literally checked the huge clock on the wall - which had a different type of fish painted by each number of the 12-part circle - every 5 minutes, hoping that time would go by faster, to no avail. You might have been able to spark a fire or put out one as a Fire Kingdom princess, but your magic didn’t involve meddling with time.

Alas, you had to sit through the forced conversation with Prince Donghyun’s parents (his older brother was away for a trade talk or something like that), and while his mother was a lovely woman, and her smile, at least, seemed genuine, his father was the definition of a politician. Which wouldn’t have unsettled you so much if you had not known his type, and how all of his sentences were well-calculated, carefully practised and being a part of a bigger plan. Even when he complimented his son, you could see that the prince was taken aback for he was smiling so coyly, you had a feeling that he scarcely complimented his children without an audience around.

You were thankful that Sungho was good at reading the room and changing topics in a polite enough manner, so that the King wouldn’t deem his action rude. It was difficult to displease them because while playing a foolish girl who always finds something to complain about and acts all so erratic was all fun and games with Prince Donghyun, when you tried to do the same in front of the royal couple, the King’s comments made you retreat. He was borderline misogynistic, saying that your honesty would be “cured” by having a husband, and that you should be lucky someone was willing to marry you with your reputation of being a fiery princess who always rejected princes.

It got to a point that you needed to excuse yourself to head outside because he started putting down your own parents for raising a princess like you, and you could not stand that. Even though you told them that you would go to the restroom, you had no place in mind, so when a servant left you by the closest restroom, you just stood there for a minute, completely frozen.

“Do you need anything, princess?” A familiar voice spoke up beside you, and you actually jumped back when you heard his voice. You were totally lost in thought, trying to process what you had been told, you didn’t pay attention to anything else.

Prince Donghyun noticed your shaken state, and his lips quivered slightly when you didn’t speak up. This was the first time that you saw something apart from mischief flash across his orbs when he looked at you, he looked genuinely concerned this time, and suddenly, you had no idea what to do with it.

“I’m so sorry about my father. He isn’t the best with…”

“You don’t need to apologise on his behalf. He needs to do it himself if he wants my forgiveness.”

The moment the words rolled off your tongue, you knew how naive it might have sounded, but you didn’t care. You kept your chin up high, kept the eye-contact, and the boy did the same. You had a feeling that he was afraid that if he looked away, you would run away. Which was incredibly close to what you actually wanted to do right then and there.

Even though you were usually good at keeping your composure in check, or at least acting like you didn’t care what people said about you, you didn’t have it in you to continue acting that night. So you were about to say that you would head back to your room to avoid having a conversation with the prince in your state, but he beat you to it.

“How about that walk to the lighthouse? That's the furthest place from the dining room,” he suggested out of the blue, his words carrying a certain gentleness. You couldn’t decide whether this was the perfect, kind prince role that he wanted to play, or whether it came naturally to him.

Nevertheless, you didn’t have the luxury to ponder over it, you just wanted a change of scenery - as much as the situation allowed, at least. So you gave in to the prince’s suggestion, and followed him outside the palace through a few unfamiliar corridors, walking through his mother’s garden to get to the docks. It didn’t resemble the docks for trading that you had been to before, it was a much more sophisticated one. It was more like a pier with only two ships waiting by the riverside, probably the ones the royal family used for travel.

For starters, the path was lit up by lanterns that glowed joyfully with the last few patches of the sunset still present on the horizon, like little fireflies in the night. The wharf itself wasn’t very well-lit, but the brightness coming from the lighthouse made up for that, illuminating the wooden structure leading up to it periodically. Even though there was mud where the water licked into the ground, the palace’s garden was connected to the shore with a little bridge, so you could walk on it as soon as you stepped past the fence separating the two sides.

Prince Donghyun held his hand out to help you step onto the wharf, and you would have objected fervently if it had not been for your dress - which seemed quite impractical for this kind of movement -, but alas, you accepted it. His grip was strong enough to hold you yet gentle enough to not crush your hands, but you didn’t hold onto him longer than needed.

“Oh no,” you said as soon as you stepped onto the wooden structure, realising that there was no railing on the sides. Even though the pathway was wide enough for two people, maybe even for three, in the momentary light the lighthouse provided when it was its turn to shine onto the wharf, you weren’t sure that you could cross it without getting panicky about it.

“What is wrong?”

“I don’t like the fact that there’s no railing here,” you announced as you pointed at the obvious lack of added safety, to which he merely gave you an amused smile.

“You can hold onto me if you want to,” he offered with a playful wink, and you were anything but impressed by his idea.

“I get seasick easily, and even though we are not on a boat, just the idea of being this close to water without an extra barrier makes me feel odd because I can’t swim, so…”

You were not one to talk about your weaknesses so easily, but the sight frightened you more than you would have admitted, and the words just rolled off your tongue without thinking ahead. It was too late to go back on your words though, you could already see how the prince was trying to make sense of the situation.

“I have an idea,” Prince Donghyun announced, mischief no longer evident in his voice as he turned his back to you and stood still.

You blinked, confused, and the thought crossed your mind that this would be the moment he would scare you or push you into the water, and you would have every reason to hate him then because you couldn’t swim. Not to mention that you were seasick often, so you absolutely detested anything that was related to water.

“You know, if you are trying to make a joke out of this whole situation, I wonder why-” You started as you took a step back in case he really did want to trick you. Instead, he raised his hands around him in a circular motion, and a few seconds later, a literal bubble formed in front of him. Then, he directed that bubble to hover between you two as he turned around.

“How did you do that?” You breathed, bewildered, as you looked at the water bubble in front of you, moving at his will. The boy couldn’t hide the smile that was creeping onto his lips at your awestruck expression that turned even more surprised when he started expanding the bubble. You were about to open your mouth to say that you didn’t want to get wet when it started getting so big that it almost touched you, but the collision never happened. What happened was that the bubble grew around you without touching you at all, so ultimately, you found yourself insead it, the world around you suddenly quiet and dim.

“It doesn’t burst with human contact or with objects. At least, I can now control it,” Prince Donghyun explained with a bit of a giggle as he stood inside the bubble with you.

You shook your head, trying to recover from this daze, but gosh, it was such a mesmerising sight. The prince looked to be in his element as he was talking about how he had learned to create bubbles and then to control them, all wide-eyed affection and enthusiasm pouring off his gorgeous features. Even if you had moments before when you questioned just how genuine he was, you couldn’t question it now, it was enough to look at him. He was dazzling, maple-brown shoulder-length hair tucked behind his ear, big doe eyes filled with stars, while he was showing you how you could touch the bubble from the inside, but it wouldn’t budge.

“I am good, aren’t I?” He quirked an eyebrow after his monologue, a proud smile tinting his lips. You looked back at him, rolling your eyes at his antics, but you had to try hard to sniffle your smile.

It felt like being inside a separate little island as you were walking inside the bubble, walking towards the lighthouse. You had to be close to him though, or else, he would need to expand the bubble even more, so you followed him diligently, and only halted when you reached the end and stood beside the beacon. This part of the wharf had railings, but you almost didn’t notice because the bubble kept out not just the outside world, but also your worries for a while.

“I didn’t know you could do something like this.”

“I’m glad to hear that I could surprise you,” he flashed you an even wider grin, if that was possible, but there was something coy about it now, as if he couldn’t believe that you could see him in a different light. Well, what could you say? You definitely didn’t expect this either.

The prince seemed curious at this point about what you could do with your powers, so you told him that you could make anything related to fire - you could create a spark, you could light up a fireplace, you could burn objects if you got your hands on them, and you could also put out fire if needed. There weren’t a lot of uses to your power, to be honest, but you didn’t mind. You always had a feeling that the reason war didn’t break out between the kingdoms was because you could only practise your magic in your own kingdom, meaning that you couldn’t do anything with fire here, even if you wanted to.

Prince Donghyun was attentive and curious, his eyes still having that bright spark to them, and for a short while, you even forgot why you ended up there, inside a bubble he created. Yet, when the next strike of light shone onto you two, and you felt your throat closing up at the sight of him - so boyish, so gentle, so affectionate -, you told him that you wished to go back.

He did seem a bit disappointed, but an understanding smile replaced his momentary pout in a bit, and he walked you back without a word. When you stepped off the docks, the bubble didn’t actually burst around you with splashes of water, it merely disappeared. You attempted to seem disinterested, but you were impressed, even if you tried to divert the topic elsewhere.

When you reached your suite, Prince Donghyun offered that you could let him know if you needed anything anytime, he would assist you. You could even knock on his door at the break of dawn - he had shown you where his suite was located on your walk back from the lighthouse -, he would be ready to help.

“Shouldn’t I notify a servant instead?” You raised an eyebrow, challengingly, but the boy either didn’t seem to take note of it, or didn’t deem it as an act of challenge.

“Well, I’m a man of many charms, and I can do a lot more than you think I’m capable of.”

“A man, pff. You’re not even 20 years old,” you pointed out cheekily, and he let out a deep, long laugh before his features went back to their previous state.

“But I will turn 20 tomorrow. I will be a man,” he retorted as he took a step closer to you, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart betrayed you because when your eyes locked, that traitor decided to skip a beat. You had never been this close to him before, not even inside the bubble, and instead of feeling like you had to keep your guards up, you wanted to destroy the walls you built around yourself, and in that moment, he looked like he wanted to do the same.

“Good night, Princess!” He wished with a widening smile, shattering the serene moment into tiny little pieces, before he turned around and walked away.

The birthday celebration officially started the next day at noon, but guests started arriving from early morning. You didn’t even finish breakfast, you were notified that the first carriage pulled into the court, and Prince Donghyun dutifully followed his mother outside to greet the guests. The King was supposedly in his study, but you actually preferred it that way, especially after the previous night’s conversation at dinner.

So that left you and Sungho enough time to finish the rest of the breakfast while discussing the day ahead. Your brother even brought up the events of last night, and where you had been with Prince Donghyun.

“Nowhere scandalous, trust me!” You justified more fervently than needed, and Sungho held up his hands as a peace offer. He looked like he was conflicted whether he should be amused or concerned by your dramatic reaction.

“I would have been surprised if you had been anywhere scandalous, especially with your plan to make him change his mind,” he pointed out reasonably before reaching for his mug of tea. One of the reasons why you liked your brother was because he could keep his cool, and he knew you well enough to not jump to stupid conclusions. His question was probably more out of curiosity than teasing either way.

Hence, you decided to be honest with him, though you didn’t want to talk about Prince Donghyun creating a water bubble around you, so you would dare to walk the wharf with him. You didn’t know why, but it felt like a rather affectionate reaction to your seasickness, and you didn’t want to bring it up.

“He showed me the lighthouse, and we talked about our magic, and what we can do with it.”

“Seems pretty ordinary to me. Where did you leave your over the top acting?” He inquired with a playful smile, and you gently pushed his shoulder with your own.

“I didn’t feel like doing it last night. The King’s words got to me more than I would have thought so,” you admitted feebly, suddenly finding your empty plate more interesting than anything else in the dining room. You were usually not one to be swayed by others’ opinion, you weren’t a naive and scared teenage girl anymore. On the other hand, you had never even met anyone as hostile as the King of the Water Kingdom, and you had met a lot of royalty, so that said a lot.

“I’ve heard that he’s like that with everyone; he’s never truly satisfied, and doesn’t agree with anyone even if he’s wrong. So it wasn’t directed at you,” Sungho reassured you softly, and when you looked up at him, you directed a grateful smile at him. He always seemed to know what to say, and you appreciated it more than ever.

You didn’t have a lot of time to yourself afterwards because the servants notified you that you should get ready for a bath before they would do your hair and make-up. So you followed them and let them take care of you from head to toe. Sometimes it felt cumbersome to be all dolled up for an event, but you enjoyed being pampered after the previous day, and you didn’t want to let it show that you had been affected by the King’s viciousness.

Red was the trademark colour of your kingdom, so you picked a cherry-red dress for the event, one that you always felt so powerful in. The bottom part was a widening skirt in wine-red with a thin, more translucent layer covering the silky one underneath that had such a nice fall to it. From your waist up, the material switched to lacy with pretty embroidery making it more intricate on your chest and on your arms alike. Golden beads dotted the middle line that ended in a V-cut that revealed an appropriate amount of skin before it closed up underneath your neck which was covered in beads again. You had matching burgundy high heels to top the look, though they would be covered by the wide skirt either way.

The ladies curled your hair and made the locks resemble the waves in your dress, letting them fall over your shoulders elegantly, with the exception of your front locks which were held back and secured to your temple with a ribbon. Your eyes were covered in a mixture of sparkly silver and burgundy, your lips the colour of ruby-red apples.

You were of the opinion that if you were forced to attend such events, you would do so in style, and you were thankful that your parents let you choose your outfits and consult the tailors yourself, they didn’t really meddle with your preference in dresses. Same went for Sungho who showed up in a burgundy-black outfit with delicate embroidery on the chest of his long-sleeved shirt, and an exquisite pair of cotton pants.

As always, you didn’t fail to compliment the other’s look, and when the beginning of the celebration was announced, you made your way to the ballroom, your arms resting on your brother’s. Since he was by your side, you were more reassured that you barely knew anyone here, though you saw a few familiar faces from other kingdoms. It was easy to tell who came from where because apart from a few different colours, everyone chose to dress in the trademark colour of their own kingdom - blue for the Water, green for the Earth, white for the Air and red for the Fire Kingdom. Since most of them wore some kind of blue, you assumed that quite a lot of relatives of Prince Donghyun showed up, and judging by the older boy by his side, you guessed that his brother also came back from the trade talks in time for the celebration.

The King started his toast with a historical lesson on the Water Kingdom which bored you to no end, so you rather chose that time to examine Prince Donghyun’s flawless outfit. What you expected from such a flawless visual, though? Sure, he would have not looked as dashing in a stable boy’s clothes as he looked right now in his light blue shirt dotted by silver pearls that resembled tiny little water drops, tucked into midnight-blue cotton pants, his shoulder-length hair partly tucked behind his ear, but he had a certain aura to him that was hard to beat.

You might have been staring at him for quite some time because he caught your eyes, and suddenly, you felt exposed. Not only because you had been quite obviously checking him out, but also because he didn’t seem smug or teasing, he seemed rather in awe, his lips slightly parting. Could it be because of your dress? He was clearly looking at you, so it couldn’t be because of someone else, and yet… oh that traitor heart of yours betrayed you again.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sungho mumbled quietly, so only you could hear him, but even his hushed voice was enough to turn your cheeks ruby-red.

“What are you talking about?” You turned to him, trying your best to put on an act, but your brother knew you well enough, he knew that you were lying.

“You seemed to have a moment there with Prince Donghyun, and I suddenly felt like an intruder. Come to think of, yesterday evening, you also left with him, leaving me behind, which implies that despite the fact that you claim that you want to change his mind, you have also fallen-” He started up on a whole monologue, and you had never been more thankful in your whole life that the crowd cheered and clapped, so their loud voices covered up what he was saying.

“Oh yey, it’s finally over!” You clapped enthusiastically with the crowd when the King finally ended his speech, and people started dissolving from the middle of the ball room. Sungho would have probably continued teasing you if it had not been for Prince Donghyun walking right up to the two of you because then, he shut his mouth, but his eyes were telling a different tale.

“May I have this dance?” The prince inquired as he motioned towards the people who started dancing in pairs not far from you which made you realise that you and Sungho just happened to stay at the exact middle of the ball room. Which was awkward in itself, but the way your brother bit down on his lower lip to prevent himself from saying anything made it even more awkward.

You felt the need to clear your throat before you answered.

“Only if you’re better than you were at 15.”

Prince Donghyun let out a joyous laughter hearing your proclamation, probably remembering that memorable dance from years ago all too well.

“I can assure you that I’m way better than I was at 15. I’ve taken dance lessons since,” he claimed proudly, puffing his chest out, and Sungho chose this moment to leave you two behind, stating that he was not in the mood for dancing, so you two go ahead. You tried to sear holes into his back while he was leaving you two behind, but to no avail. He didn’t even look back.

“Sure. Let’s see how much you improved. But if you step on my foot, I will step on yours too, and trust me, you don’t want to encounter these high heels closely,” you threatened half-jokingly as you turned back to Prince Donghyun, but he merely laughed off your warning. He seemed pretty confident in himself, so you wanted to give this a chance, and indeed, he did the right thing by immediately extending his hand to you, so you could reach for it. Then, he escorted you further into the dance floor, expertly manoeuvring around already dancing couples.

If the beginning wasn’t enough to convince you, the rest of the dance sure was. The boy knew what he was doing, and he did it confidently. You could tell that he had taken those dance lessons seriously because there was only slight hesitation in his movements when he first touched you - your hand, your back and your waist -, afterwards, he overcame his coyness, and continued on like nothing happened.

He held himself like a prince, a delicate prince, and you were bewitched by the twinkles in his chestnut-brown eyes, as if stars were truly dancing in them, he was glowing, his endeared smile crowning his look. He held you so steady that you knew, you could tell that if you were to fall down, he would be able to catch you, and you had never felt so taken care of during a dance. It wasn’t about him showing off - despite how he introduced his dance skills -, it was about elevating your dance experience to something you had never had before.

“I’ve told you I got better,” he stated matter-of-factly after swirling you around, and when he closed the distance next, you found yourself mumbling something along the lines of:

“Yes, I can tell.”

“Excuse me, I couldn’t catch that. Could you say that again?” Prince Donghyun teased you, flashing an all too boyish grin, and you rolled your eyes, not believing his antics. Fine, two can play this game, you thought, before you leaned closer and tiptoed on your heels, so that you could be at eye-level with him.

“You can really dance like a man now, Prince Donghyun,” you whispered into his ears, and when you leaned back, you could see a pinkish hue colouring not only his cheeks but also his ears. You got him flustered, and you called that a win.

The song the musicians were playing came to an end, so you let go of his shoulders, and sank back to your heels. The boy was so dazed that he didn’t let go of you for a few more seconds, only when you thanked him for the dance and wished him a happy birthday. You knew that other girls would be lining up to dance with him or other royalty to have a word with him since it was his birthday celebration, so you let him enjoy his day, and got lost in the crowd of royalty.

You ended up having a talk with a princess from the Earth Kingdom, then two of Prince Donghyun’s cousins - Prince Jaehyun and Prince Woonhak - who chirped your ears off about how excited they were to meet you, and shared embarrassing stories about their cousin without flinching an eye. You were sure that it was a way to show you that Prince Donghyun was more than meets the eye, but you got the most surprised when they claimed that the prince had been harbouring feelings for you ever since that dance all those years ago, and he had not stopped talking about wanting to meet you again.

“Why would he do that? I reprimanded him for dancing so poorly,” you pointed out matter-of-factly, but that just fuelled the boys’ chattering even more.

“Oh yes, he did say something about loving the fact that you dared to put him in his place.”

“And that you weren’t afraid to speak your mind since most royalty wouldn’t do so,” Woonhak added to Jaehyun’s answer, and their words just made you wonder even more how much say Prince Donghyun had in this wedding proposal. It should have definitely gone through his father, which made you question why he had even agreed to it if you could not appease him at all, but was the choice ultimately the prince’s? Or did he have as much say in it as you did?

You were about to ask the cousins about this matter when the King announced that it was time to slice the five-tier cake, but he wanted to say a few words before. The princes beside you got all too pumped up at the mention of dessert, and excused themselves to get closer to the cake, so they could be one of the first ones to have their share.

“I would like to start by saying that we are very grateful to have all of you here to celebrate the birthday of our younger son,” the King started with his best neutral smile as he gave Prince Donghyun a side-eye who tried hard to appear more gentle than his father. You could feel from the moment you were here that their relationship was quite strained, but what his father said next just went beyond anything you could expect.

“But we have more to celebrate today, and I would like to hereby announce that our first-born, Prince Donghee, is going to marry Princess Dayoung from the Air Kingdom. Our son has just returned from finishing up on the marriage talks, and the wedding will take place in two months’ time.”

The claps came on quietly at first, then they appeared thunderous in the vast dining room, echoing back from the walls in a mocking tone while Prince Donghyun tried his best not to seem affected. You could tell that his small smile that didn’t reach his ears was anything but joyful, and he clapped like he was a mere shadow of himself. His father didn’t seem to take note of it as he asked Prince Donghee - the older brother you had seen by his side when they had started the celebration - to step forward and say a few words as well. It was all too perfect, all too practised, you felt sick to your stomach as you watched the scene unfold in front of your eyes.

“Marriage talks are underway with princesses for our second-born as well, but it looks like we have to put them on hold to prepare for the wedding day,” the King concluded after Prince Donghee was finished with his own speech, the room filled with roaring cheers once more.

You should have felt relieved that your possible marriage with Prince Donghyun was put on hold, and you should have felt a bit enraged that there were other princesses in question since they had not told you that you had competition. It shouldn’t have mattered, really, but you didn’t like the way the King was playing this game, and you felt anything but triumphant over the news. The prince seemed gutted, to say the least, and the way his eyes were searching for yours told you that he hoped that you wouldn’t take his father’s words the wrong way.

No wonder you didn’t feel like having a slice from the cake when they finished their speeches, and when you saw Prince Donghyun quietly walking away from the crowd, you decided to go after him. You met your brother in the meantime, and told him that you would be back. You didn’t know where you were going, and for a moment, you thought that you lost sight of Prince Donghyun, only to find him leaving through the garden, heading towards the lighthouse.

You tried to catch up to him, but he was a few metres ahead, and didn’t seem to notice you following him. However, when you stepped onto the dock, and realised yet again that there were no railings in sight, you came to a halt.

“Prince Donghyun!” You shouted after him, trying to gain his attention. He immediately turned around, his eyes widening in surprise when he caught sight of you standing still at the very end of the wharf.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” He inquired, his tone neutral, as he stood there, standing still a few metres ahead of you. You felt like there was a distance between you two both physically and metaphorically, and to hell to all of your plans of changing his mind, you would feel awful if you didn’t check on him after how he had checked on you last time following the King’s derogatory remarks.

“I wanted to see if you’re okay,” you blurted out, surprising yourself with how confident you sounded, but how couldn’t you? The prince in front of you never looked more vulnerable, more humane and more in need of a heart-to-heart talk - a mere 20-year-old boy who was hurt, and everyone decided to turn a blind eye to him and his feelings. The way his eyes were full of sorrowful stars instead of the joyful ones you usually saw swimming in them, and the way his lips quivered, full of emotion, but they looked as if they had never learned how to curl into a smile clenched your heart, not just a little.

“I’m not sure this is the right time to talk,” he dismissed your confession, the look on his face betraying his own words, because he looked like he wanted to talk, he just didn’t want to admit it out loud. He was ready to walk away from you when you finally broke from your frozen state, and took a step closer to him.

Your heart was in your throat as you took one step after another, focusing on the prince’s frame instead of the obvious lack of railings by the sides. You pursed your lips in concentration, remembering all those etiquette classes when you had learned how to walk in a straight line. Yet now, your steps were wobbly, your high heels clicking on the wood underneath your feet, and your long skirt didn’t help either.

However, when Prince Donghyun heard that you were indeed walking after him, he turned around, and started walking towards you. It crossed your mind for a moment that maybe he would walk by you, so that you wouldn’t come after him, and when he halted beside you, you held in your breath nervously, more nervous than you had ever been around him before.

“Why did you start walking after me? It’s dangerous,” he pointed at your dress, but there was no malice in his voice. Instead, he sounded as gentle as if he had been talking to a child. For a moment, you couldn’t find your voice, and when you did, you were all just a jumble of words. Gosh, this boy…

“I am… I just… I thought…” You started, inwardly cursing yourself for ever putting yourself in this situation. You hated nothing more than embarrassing yourself, and he knew that, he knew that all too well.

“I’ve never thought I would make you speechless,” he mused out loud, the side of his lips curling upwards, and you felt the need to punch him in his chest for teasing you like that. You were ready to do just that, raising your left hand, but he reached out for it instead, and laced his arm with yours, as casually as if it had been the hundredth time he did that.

Now you were actually speechless, blinking up at the boy whose side profile was enough to tell you that he was feeling rather shy himself, both his cheeks and ears were turning red after his gesture. He guided you towards the other end though, holding your arm safe and steady, as you were walking side by side towards the lighthouse.

May it be because you were more awestruck by Prince Donghyun’s gesture than your own fear of the open water around you, but you were at the other end before you knew it, and you didn’t even think about falling into the water, not even once. Or may it be because he was holding you like he wanted to protect you from all the bad in the world, but there was gentleness in his grip, something that didn’t go unnoticed by you (and that traitor heart of yours).

“I’m sorry about what my father said. It’s true that he has been in talks with other kingdoms regarding marriage proposals, but I haven’t been in talks with anyone other than you. I’ve wanted to tell you sooner, I just-”

“I know, I could tell,” you cut the prince off before he could feel even more guilty about something that wasn’t in his control.

“Really?”

“Yes,” you nodded seeing his bewildered expression. Well, you couldn’t blame him since you definitely looked like you wanted to find anything you could criticise about him or his kingdom the day before, but this - standing beside the lighthouse with his arm around yours, watching the setting sun on the horizon - was different. “And I know we don’t always have a say in what we want when it comes to the matters of our own kingdom. Plus, marriage is a serious topic, and it’s understandable that your father looked at other options, too,” you added matter-of-factly, but you could feel a little bit of a lump in your throat.

Prince Donghyun didn’t say anything for some time, so you hoped that you didn’t cross any boundaries. You could feel him tense a bit beside you, and since you didn’t know why, you let go of his arm, so he could have his own space if he wanted. He looked at your retrieving arm for a few seconds before he spoke up again.

“I’m not sure how to word this, but I feel like my father… he doesn’t love me the way he loves my brother,” he confessed, raw and vulnerable. He was staring far ahead, but you could tell from the way he was clenching his jaw that even this was hard for him without looking at you. “I don’t know why because I’ve tried everything my brother can do, and still… I always get that I’m only good for my looks, and I should marry someone who could bring more to our kingdom.”

You felt your heart drop at his confession because it resonated with you so much, especially the last sentence. Even though you weren’t pitted against each other with Sungho, you were also told by distant relatives and royalty from other kingdoms that you were so beautiful, but nothing else, and that you should marry someone who could make you someone. As if you weren’t already someone just by being born into your family. You weren’t perfect, but you tried to learn how not to let it get to you since as a princess, you had to deal with such comments all the time.

On the other hand, you would have never thought that Prince Donghyun might be going through the same thing because everyone had been gushing about him, and not just about his looks. Yet, you could never know what goes on in a palace unless you live there yourself, so you would never have the heart to question his words. You could tell that he was telling the truth.

“I know it might sound naive given that we are royalty, but the only person you should be good enough for is yourself. Trust me, you will feel a lot lighter if you know that you live your life for yourself, not somebody else,” you shared honestly, looking at him, and that’s the moment he turned his head to look at you, too.

When your eyes met, you thought that he would ask you about your experience, and you would have told him. Something in you shifted since last night, and you weren’t trying to undermine his efforts and see him in a bad light anymore. In fact, what all that bravado showed you was that he still accepted you, and he was willing to put up with your behaviour no matter what.

However, instead of asking about your side - though you had a feeling he understood you even without saying it out loud -, he said the next few words that truly put everything in a whole new light:

“But I want to be good enough for you, too.”

Sunset reflecting in his eyes, painting his locks in shades of chestnut-brown and statice-purple, his tall frame towering over you as if he wanted to shelter you from the outside world, your heart skipped a few beats before it picked up its pace, and started thumping against your ribcage, electrifying your whole body from head to toe. Your throat was dry, your words non-existent, and you unknowingly took a few steps backwards, as if to detach yourself from this perfect moment… only to step on the insides of your two-layered skirt, and fall - very far from elegant - into the cold water.

Your body was in survival mode immediately, your arms flailing around wildly as you tried to keep yourself up in the water. Your lungs were on fire, and despite the fact that you tried to pacify your breathing, telling yourself that you would be okay, your brain didn’t listen to you, and made up worse and worse scenarios of you drowning there. Even when firm arms took hold of you, all you could think about was that there was no air, no air, no air… drowning, drowning, drowning…

It could have been mere seconds, you couldn’t tell, before you got to the shore, and Prince Donghyun helped you push yourself upwards, so you could cough up the water. It felt so violent, your lungs and your throat seemed to battle each other while your eyes were on fire due to the salty water, and your whole body was shivering in your cold, damp clothes. In the meantime, you could subtly feel his gentle pats on your back that turned to circles when your coughs easened up, and your breathing wasn’t stridulous anymore.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. It’s okay. I’m here,” Prince Donghyun said as a mantra while you were trying to pull yourself together. Yet, the moment you felt your shock fading away, you found yourself tearing up, your body starting to shake with the sobs.

Prince Donghyun looked alarmed for a moment, not knowing what to do with you, but you didn’t let him decide. You threw your arms around his equally wet body, and sobbed into the crook of his neck.

“Thank you… for saving me,” you mumbled between ragged breaths, and an intense wave of sobbing came over you when you said the words out loud. You could have died, you could have died just a few minutes ago, and he had jumped in to save you. He could have teased you that the water wasn’t that deep or he could have forgotten that you had told him that you couldn’t swim, and let you drown there, but he had jumped in without hesitation, and pulled you to shore so swiftly, you wondered if he had used some kind of magic just now. For you.

Prince Donghyun didn’t say a word, he let you cry as much as you wanted, while he was holding you safe and sound, while you were holding onto him.

A whirlwind of events followed your unfortunate fall. As soon as you entered the palace, the prince called for servants to help you undress, bathe and help you get warm, and he also notified someone to send a royal medic over to your suite after everything else was taken care of. You were trying to say that he himself should do the same, but he looked more worried about you than his own wet clothes and dripping locks, and you didn’t find the right words to say, still a bit under the influence of the past events.

You followed what the servants asked you to, and you liked that you were being told what to do for a change because it helped you to focus on something else other than the near-death experience. Whenever your mind was trying to replay the scene from when you had been in the water, you pulled yourself back to reality, holding onto the bathtub or the side of your fresh gown a bit more tightly, so as to keep you grounded. It was difficult at first, but the more you practised it, the easier it became, and when the servants tucked you into bed, you felt like you were close to being okay again. The medic also stated that you didn’t have a fever, there was no sign of a creeping illness, your heart probably beat faster than usual due to the shock, and prescribed some calming herbal tea.

Sungho visited you as soon as he was allowed to, and of course, he came with all those “I should have been there for you” monologues, the ones you quickly dismissed because you could take care of yourself, you didn’t need his supervision all the time, but mostly because it was your fault that you fell (and your dress’), no one else could be blamed for it. You also asked him not to blame Prince Donghyun, but he seemed more offended by the fact that you dared to assume that he would hold the prince accountable than by the way you were so quick to take the prince’s side.

“How could I blame him? He saved you, after all,” he declared simply, and let out a long sigh after his words. It was rare that you saw him so concerned, you usually didn’t give him any reason to worry about you, so it warmed your heart yet again just how much he cared under that otherwise teasing brother surface.

“I’m sorry for making you worried.”

“If you’re really sorry, you should get better soon, and listen to the medic,” he reprimanded you as if you had been a child, and maybe he thought the same because he let out a deep laughter afterwards. “Huh, I sound like a real big brother, don’t I?”

“You do, and it kind of scares me a bit. When did you grow up?” You mused out loud playfully, and the effect was immediate. The boy’s furrowed eyebrows smoothed out, and his features easened, softened, his shoulders sagging at ease. He crouched down to toss an unruly lock to the side that was falling into your eyes, and patted your head.

“I remember I did the same when you fell into that pond on our trip to the meadows,” he reminiscenced with a soft smile, and you didn’t need to be told twice what he meant by it. You remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. You had been 12 at the time, and your family had already known that you didn’t know how to swim, so it had been Sungho who had jumped after you. He was already an excellent swimmer, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been shaken by that experience. You remembered how he had stayed by your bedside for the whole night afterwards, afraid that nightmares would haunt you.

“Will you stay by my side for the night this time, too?” You elevated an eyebrow challengingly, and he let out a bewildered huff in relief.

“Do you think I don’t know that you wouldn’t let me?”

“Fair point,” you agreed wholeheartedly, but let him pat your head a few more times before there was a knock on the door. You both turned towards the visitor when he opened the door, and when it turned out to be Prince Donghyun, Sungho gave you a knowing look before telling the boy that he should come in, he was about to leave anyway. It didn’t slip your attention that on his way out, he squeezed the younger prince’s shoulder in an affectionate manner, and even though you didn’t see it from that angle, you had a feeling that he said thank you to the prince, and that’s why he seemed so coy all of a sudden.

His hair was extremely fluffy (now that it was freshly washed like yours), the locks curling elegantly around his ears and neck like soft little tendrils, his doe eyes shining in the dim lights of the room, all bright and fond. He was wearing more casual attire than at the party, so you deemed that him jumping into the water after you meant that he had no desire to go back to his birthday celebration that was soon coming to its end either way.

You felt awfully exposed with your hair still wet at the ends, lack of concealing touches and make-up on your face, and being tucked into bed in a nightgown was not at all how you wanted Prince Donghyun to see you, but he didn’t seem fazed by your appearance. Nor did he make a comment on it when you beckoned him closer, and he could see for himself that you were fine.

You wouldn’t admit it for the world, but it warmed your heart how worried he was, and when it was the fifth time you had to reassure him that you were fine, you had a feeling that it was more out of guilt than anything else, hence, you felt the need to emphasise:

“It wasn’t your fault that I fell into the water, so don’t be sorry. What’s more, you saved my life, so I couldn’t be more thankful for you,” you admitted genuinely, and the blush that crept onto his cheeks was adorable. You had to bite down on your tongue to hold yourself back from smiling at his shy state.

“Still, I’m sorry that you had to experience it.”

“It wasn’t the first time, actually,” you justified, and continued telling him about that time at the pond Sungho had just talked about, and one time when one of the royal teachers had tried to teach you how to swim, but you had nearly drowned. It hadn’t been a super important requirement for a princess to learn how to swim, but since you travelled by ships to both the Air Kingdom and the Earth Kingdom, it was a weakness that possible enemies could take advantage of if things went south. So they had tried to teach you, but to no avail. Your panic always kicked in as soon as water surrounded you.

The prince stayed quiet, and you couldn’t tell whether it was because he didn’t know if he was allowed to ask questions, or he didn’t have any. On the other hand, you had questions, so you inquired if he knew how to create bubbles underwater, and his eyes immediately lit up when he started talking about his power. He did know how to create bubbles both outside of water and underwater, so he could breathe in there without oxygen, and he shared that sometimes he used these bubbles to watch the fish and crabs underwater because he had always been fascinated by them.

His whole demeanour changed when he was talking about the sea and the creatures living there, sharing both stories of his childhood days when he had been collecting shells alongside the shore, and interesting facts about sea life that he read books on. At one point, he was so into talking about his favourite type of fish that he didn’t even notice a servant coming into your room and placing some food and another mug of tea on your bedside table. He only realised that the lady was in the room when she pushed a chair beside your bed, so he could sit down on it while talking. Then, he giggled, a heartwarming mixture of excited and embarrassed, and thanked her for the gesture.

“May I?” He asked before he would have sat down on the chair, and you nodded immediately. It’s not like you weren’t the visitor here, but you appreciated the gesture.

The prince was definitely interrupted because now he didn’t know where to continue or where to start, and he just looked around, his eyes darting between different parts of the room until they settled on the steaming bowl of food and the mug of tea on your bedside table.

“Oh, you should have it while it’s still hot,” he suggested as he pointed at the steaming bowl. “Since there was mostly heavy food for the celebration, I’ve asked a chef to prepare something more nutritious to prevent you from coming down with something,” he explained as he averted his eyes from the food to you.

You blinked rapidly at him, your suspicion kicking in, but then you remembered what he had said just a few hours before:

“But I want to be good enough for you, too.”

And it all made sense now. Not just his kind actions, going above and beyond to make sure that your stay at the palace was comfortable from offering to help with anything to checking up on you the first night you had that awful dinner with his parents, but also the way he was different to you than with other girls. Even if you wanted to deny it, you could see that the prince didn’t dance with anyone else at his birthday party other than you, and Prince Woonhak and Prince Jaehyun also said that he had been harbouring feelings for you, and now it made sense. He had even learned how to dance properly because of you, and he had created a water bubble, so you could cross the wharf with you.

“What’s wrong?” Prince Donghyun’s concerned voice brought you back to the here and now, and you just shook your head with a smile. You weren’t sure that you could ever look at him the same way after knowing that he liked you.

“Nothing. I’m just thankful,” you admitted, and reached for the bowl of steaming soup. You could feel the boy’s eyes on you when you took the first spoonful of the soup, but it was delightful, and when the prince asked about it, you said so. He seemed very happy to know that you enjoyed it, and went over what was in the soup, or at least, what he remembered the chef telling him.

“So…” You cleared your throat after the first few bites, feeling silly for wanting to bring up the topic, but also feeling silly for not wanting to bring it up. In the end, you thought better of it, and just blurted it out. “Did you have a say in the wedding proposal you sent me?”

“Yours was the only one I had a say in. My father sent out two inquiry letters to other kingdoms, and he was the one who chose the possible brides in those cases,” he answered immediately, and you saw heat returning to his cheeks when it dawned on him that he basically confessed that he was the one who had chosen you.

“Oh,” you found yourself saying, but the boy’s expression was quizzical upon your reaction.

“Oh? Oh as in ‘oh, I’m so disappointed’, or oh as in ‘oh, I didn’t expect that’ or… ‘oh, I’m so happy to hear that’?” He listed out the options, and furrowed his eyebrows, totally clueless. It was a cute look on him, you had to admit, especially in comparison to his usual confidence demeanour.

“Oh as in ‘oh, I didn’t expect that’, but it makes me feel kind of… good?”

The moment the last word rolled off your tongue, you knew that you were done for. Yet, the boy’s smug smile just confirmed that he wouldn’t let you live down afterwards, so you braced yourself for his teasing. Instead, his proud smile softened, his big doe eyes turning to little crescents as he watched you eat, and didn’t say a word. You found yourself smiling back at him, letting the silence embrace you, and it was so crazy that a day before, you would have done everything to change his mind about you, and now, you just admitted that you were glad that he was the one who had chosen you. Now, you had a better idea why he would have done so, and it made you feel fizzy and warm and a bit enchanted.

You were the only guests who stayed for two nights, but it was the Water Kingdom’s request, so nobody could blame you for it. However, staying for the night after having a heart-to-heart conversation with Prince Donghyun in your room felt odd, as if it was an invitation for something more even though you were perfectly aware of the fact that the King of the Water Kingdom would most probably do anything in his power to choose someone over you when it came to his second-born son’s marriage. The fact that the prince had been the one to choose you as a potential bride - and you had been the only one he had a say in - made you feel somewhat special, but it also made you feel slightly competitive.

It was laughable, really. You had come here to destroy Prince Donghyun’s plans to marry you, and now, you wanted to destroy his father’s plans to outrule you. You weren’t a petty loser, you knew how to lose, but still… with the way the prince cared for you and went above and beyond to assist you and keep you company during these days made you feel almost compelled to make a better impression on his parents. Not to mention the fact that he had also saved you from drowning.

However, nothing was certain for now, especially not with Prince Donghee’s upcoming marriage that would take the spotlight either way, so you didn’t want to pry about the matter on the day of your departure. On the other hand, you managed to bump into Prince Woonhak and Prince Jaehyun - also having stayed for the night after they had eaten through the whole menu for the celebration - when you left your suite, and they insisted that they wanted you to come back again.

“That isn’t my choice to make, I’m afraid,” you broke it down to them with a friendly smile, and Prince Woonhak pouted as if he would never ever see you again. You had seemed to make a good impression on them, and it warmed your heart since you had only had one conversation. Though that was a very important conversation given that they had spilled the beans on Prince Donghyun having a crush on you for years.

“You should invite us to your birthday celebration then. When is it?” Prince Jaehyun suggested with a wide grin, and when you let them know about the date and that you would keep his words in mind before organising it, he looked like an overzealous kid, all smiles and bright eyes. Gosh, they were so cute, it made you miss your ever-so-bright little sister even more.

“We’re rooting for you two, you know,” Woonhak beamed, not letting silence fall over the three of you, his unruly locks falling into his eyes.

“For who?”

“You and Donghyun. It’s obvious that you like him, too,” he continued with a smug grin, and you were about to open your mouth to decline him, but you were unable to form words. That just seemed to confirm everything in their eyes because their smirks grew even wider, their eyes even brighter.

Thankfully, you were interrupted by a servant who notified you that your carriage was ready, so after a few bubbly words and wishes from the two boys, you were guided outside. Sungho was already there, talking to the Queen of the Water Kingdom by the carriage while you caught sight of both Prince Donghee and Prince Donghyun bidding farewell to other guests. When you halted beside your brother, the Queen inquired if you had a good night’s sleep, and apologised for the inconvenience the day before. You reassured her that you weren’t inconvenienced, you were rather grateful for Prince Donghyun’s assistance, and she smiled a genuine smile, one that made your erratic thoughts calm down a little bit. The King might have been hostile towards you, but the Queen had never been openly critical of you, so you hoped that it could stay that way.

“Excuse me, I have to bid farewell to the other guests,” the woman announced after having a few words with you and Sungho, then, she reached out to squeeze your hands. The gesture took you by surprise, but only in a positive way. “Please, make sure to visit us again. Donghyun might not say it out loud, but I could see how happy your presence made him,” she shared with a secretive smile, and despite your bewilderment, you reciprocated it, squeezing her hands once before she let go.

“With pleasure, Your Majesty,” you bowed respectfully as both an answer and both a farewell. You watched her leave before turning back to your brother who had that amused half-smile playing on his lips that told you that he really wanted to call you out on something, but he tried to hold it in. Sighing, you raised an eyebrow in question.

“What is it?”

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just amused by the fact that you came here, set on not wanting to come here ever again in your whole entire life, and now, you just got invited again,” he blabbered as if his words weren’t teasing at all, but you didn’t want to admit anything, so you merely pointed out, trying to keep your voice as confident as possible:

“She meant ‘us’, not just me.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Your Water Prince is likely walking towards us because he also wants to meet me again,” Sungho gestured towards Prince Donghyun who was indeed coming up to you, elegance radiating off him while he was taking one step after another. It was unfair how vividly he stood out, and how perfectly the morning sunlight bathed him in its glory, drawing a halo around his chestnut-brown hair. It was also unfair how much your heartbeat picked up its speed when he halted beside your brother, and how much you had to try to sniffle a smile when your eyes landed on his ethereal features.

“I truly hope you enjoyed your stay with us,” he started politely, probably as a matter of courtesy, and he was about to continue when Sungho spoke up.

“Oh, I certainly enjoyed my stay,” he said as he gave you a not at all subtle side glance, and you felt the need to roll your eyes at his antics. Gosh, did he have to call you out like that?

“Thank you again for the invitation, Prince Donghyun,” you spoke up as if nothing happened, and the boy beamed, a smile blooming on his lips at your words. Unbeknownst to you, your lips also curled upwards. Staring at him felt both so wrong and so right at the same time, and seconds passed by with the cacophony of the surrounding noises fading into the background.

At least, until your brother decided to clear his throat and announce that he would let you two proceed while he would check on the insides of the carriage. A lame excuse, you could tell, but you appreciated his gesture because while you wouldn’t do anything inappropriate with the prince that he should not be a witness of, you felt like you could say a proper goodbye to the prince if it was just the two of you.

“I hope you also enjoyed your stay despite my father’s words on the first day,” Prince Donghyun mused out loud, his eyes searching for yours, something akin to concern flashing across them. You bobbed your head, reassuring him that you were doing better than on that first day.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he noted, letting a small smile invade his lips as he looked down at his intertwined fingers for a few seconds. You had never really mastered the art of saying goodbye to someone, let alone someone like him… someone who made you feel so many things in such a short span of time.

Maybe he was the same for the silence stretched a bit too long, but before you could get discouraged again, you spoke up.

“Thank you for everything. My stay was more enjoyable… thanks to you,” you blurted out, your voice cracking a bit by the end. The prince looked up right in that moment, and his cheeks flushed, tinting his pale skin in the shade of cherry blossom-pink. You could also feel your cheeks heating up, and it was so unlike you that you felt like running away and throwing yourself into the carriage right away.

“Thank you so much for coming, and if it’s up to me, it won’t be the last time we see each other. If you let me, of course…”

The prince let his words trail off by the end, curious and contemplative, while his eyes never left yours. You felt another rush of heat going through your body at the implication behind his words, but even if you wanted to deny it, even if you didn’t, there was only one right answer.

“I’d love to see you again,” you confessed feebly, but in the next moment, you pointed a finger at him warningly to mask up your anxiety. “But only if you keep practising your dancing.”

Laughter bubbled up the prince’s throat - airy and carefree - before he promised you that he would keep practising, so that he could continue dancing like a man. Then, he flashed one of those boyish grins of his that made princesses’ knees go weak, and now you kind of understood why that was the case.

“See you again, Prince Donghyun!”

“See you soon, Princess!” He bid his farewell when the coachman came up to the two of you, letting you know that you could leave whenever you wanted to. You smiled back at the waving prince as you made your way to the carriage, and the coachman helped you inside.

Once you took a seat and looked up at your brother who was sitting in front of you, you warned him:

“Not a word, Sungho.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s your luck,” you stated playfully before looking out of the window and watching Prince Donghyun’s waving figure getting smaller and smaller until he was out of sight.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

#boynextdoor x reader #boynextdoor x you #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #bnd x reader #bnd x you #bnd scenarios #bnd imagines #boynextdoor fluff #bnd fluff #leehan x reader #leehan x you #leehan scenarios #leehan imagines #leehan fluff

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qwimblenorrisstan · 26 days

Text

Insufficient Pt. 3 | Azriel/Eris x Reader

Summary: Your journey to Autumn Court doesn’t go exactly as planned, but you do pick up some entertaining company along the way, who also happens to be useful in getting you where you need to go.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

Warnings: horse getting a bit scratched up, big scary monsters, rock juggling, allusions to abuse, platonic!lucien & reader, sassy luci, knife, blood

A/N: y’all I’m so sorry this is so late…school just started and I’ve also just started writing for cod too since I’ve been obsessing over it, so here’s some food for you guys, eat up<3

Requests are open!

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As it turned out, traveling was a lot more difficult than you had originally thought.

It wasn’t just getting on a horse and riding until night, starting a fire, and all that. Sure, you’d been around for a decent amount of time for a Fae, nothing close to centuries, but you still didn’t have much knowledge on things like that.

Most of your life had simply been with your family in the family home, spent in a warm house with plenty of food and water to spare. Not many hardships, nothing.

The first night you’d gone out had been rough.

Riding a horse for nearly six hours straight had made your thighs ache more than ever before, feeling as if someone had just beaten them with a rolling pin. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t been able to get a decent fire going, so you’d eaten some cold dried meat in your pack, and curled up in a small den that was deserted by whatever animal had made it.

You were only on your second night when things already began going wrong. The woods were thick from where you were skirting the borders, tangy magic thick in the air from the protections most High Lords kept over their courts after Amarantha’s reign of terror. Your horse was tiring, sweat coating her mane, and your beads of sweat gathered on your forehead despite the chill of the night.

You slowly pulled the reigns back, slowing her to a stop when you got to a small clearing, before throwing a leg over and slipping off. Your knees nearly buckled when your feet hit the ground, sparks of pain flitting through them before fading slowly. The horse huffed, following as you led her by the reigns over to a little wall of stone in a mountain, a little roof provided by an overlook above. It looked relatively untouched.

Unbuckling the clasps and setting the mare free, though she never wandered far, somehow knowing better, you put the bridle down close to you.

Too tired to eat, you scooted backward, sitting slowly down as you resisted a groan with how your legs ached. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body and movements were sluggish. Before you could even get a single coherent thought through your brain, you slipped into a deep sleep.

What must’ve been hours later, or at least felt like it, you drowsily opened your eyes when you heard the nervous nicker of your horse. Dark, splotchy figures stood nearly twenty feet away, concealed barely by trees. Maybe three of them.

They whispered and muttered quietly amongst themselves, sometimes in a language you couldn’t understand, other little English words snagging your mind. Inhuman eyes, two of them each, shifted your direction, and your eyes shut immediately.

Playing dead.

They must’ve bought it since they went back to their hushed whispers. Your mind, now fully alert and panicking, tried making sense of it. Maybe they were other travelers, like you? But outside of any court? They had looked at least 8 feet tall, thin, and cloaked in black that only served to remind you of the very male you were running from.

You heard your mare nicker again before a hoarse cry came out of it, and a scuffling sound. Your eyes opened almost involuntarily, being given a front-row view of the creatures, whatever they were, and their bony hands as they reached towards the poor animal, trying to drag it towards them as their shadowy maws opened. Whispers turned more excited.

Your body was frozen between shock and terror as you watched one of them grab the horse’s front legs, then back legs, both in different hands and begin pulling.

The horse cried out.

The hands pulled.

A disgusting ripping sound, but not from the horse.

From your dagger, embedded in one of the thing’s shadowy hands that were somehow physical, ripping the skin and flesh.

It hissed, dropping the horse, but the wound you’d made on it closed immediately as it flicked your dagger away.

You were at the horse’s side in less than a second, for some reason in a defensive position, lip curling to bare canines at the things. As you looked at the largest one dead in its cold eyes, a realization dawned on you.

Skinwalkers.

These things were skinwalkers.

It should’ve been obvious to you from the start. The dark but physical body, the dead, shining eyes, the giant frame, and clawed hands. It was then that you had another realization.

Skinwalkers didn’t eat horses. In fact, according to an old mythology book your grandmother had owned, they only ate humans. Then why-?

“A fine catch we’ve gotten ourselves..”

It said, tone between a hiss and a purr at the same time, mingling in a sound that made every cell in your body want to run and never look back. If a direct stab hadn’t done anything to kill or even harm it, then what would it take to kill one, if not the three to four that were in the group?

“Not very clever,”

One hissed in a hushed tone, and another peered down at you, dead eyes hungry.

“I told you it would work. They’re always so attached to those little animals..”

Another whispered, poking the horse, now cowering against the stone, looking for an opening to run although there was none. It pawed at the ground, stomping and huffing as if it would help.

A trap. It had been a trap, and you’d been stupid enough to fall for it. Of course.

“Get on with it, I'm starving.”

The last of the group hissed, jabbing the largest one with a pointed finger. The largest one bared its perfectly midnight black teeth and stalked closer to you. Backing up, you spotted a flash of movement to the very left, behind the group of skinwalkers.

Too fast to be a human or animal. Too slow to be another skinwalker. Which meant either it was Fae, or another creature waiting its turn to eat you, and you were praying for the former.

Between a few trees, a small face came into view, along with golden orange hair, a scarred face, a mechanical eye, and dark clothing. You tried not to stare, so the creatures wouldn’t notice him.

“It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to smell their fear, let me have a moment-“

The biggest spat, and they then began bickering in their unearthly tones, creating a temporary way of distraction. The male in the trees jerked his head towards your right, and you gave a confused face, turning to your right. All it was was a pile of big rocks. He sighed silently, mouthing something to you.

You couldn’t lip-read for the life of you.

After asking “What?” silently three times in a row, you finally understood what he was saying.

“Distract them.” He mouthed, clearly agitated as he frowned, giving you a judgmental look. Sassy for a male, this one was.

The creatures seemed quite distracted amongst themselves at the moment, but you knew once that ended, everything would be over for you. You needed a distraction, and their hushed whispers were getting less frenzied, quieter, and slower. They agreed on something.

Your mind rushed to find something, anything and thought back to the pile of rocks the male had originally jerked his chin to.

You slowly moved towards it, eventually reaching it, before the creatures came to a final consensus.

“No, no, you don’t get to escape.” One hissed through its teeth as it grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you back in front of the largest one, but instead of slaughtering you, they were left dumbfounded when you began throwing rocks up in the air, catching them, and throwing them again.

Juggling. You were juggling the rocks.

“What is it doing?”

The smallest asked the largest in a slightly concerned whisper, or as concerned as a skinwalker could be, and the giant shadowy figure only silently watched.

“Is it diseased?”

A second asked in a hushed whisper, poking at you with a finger, only for you to yelp and hop away on one foot, unable to regain your balance while continuing to juggle the rocks, meaning you were now constantly hopping on one foot.

Juggling was a trick you’d originally learned to impress some of your younger cousins and nephews and whatnot, and mostly forgotten, but it had somehow kicked back into you at the last moment.

Eventually, though, they continued poking at you, and you dropped a rock on one’s finger, before deciding to fully commit and hurling the two remaining ones at the shadowy beasts while falling flat on your ass.

They hissed, swatting them away, but only getting halfway through the motion before a giant blaze of flame consumed them, trapping them in a burst of golden light, and then they were just…gone.

Not even a pile of ashes, no bones, no remains, nothing.

However, the male from earlier was there, walking through the now-black grass, offering you a hand while giving you an odd look. You took it, and he sighed, offering his name. It sounded mildly familiar, probably because you’d heard snippets of the bond between him and Elain before, but it was a topic most people avoided in Night Court. His hair meant he was Autumn Court, no doubt.

“Lucien.”

He said simply, and you swallowed, immediately going to your horse’s side and checking her.

“Y/N.”

You replied, hands smoothing over your horse’s coat, trying to soothe the spooked animal as it nervously nickered and scraped its hooves against the ground, bringing up dirt.

“That was certainly one way of…distracting them.”

He said in a tone that barely held back that he thought you were insane, but also mildly entertaining.

“You looked at the rocks, didn’t you?”

You said, giving him a scowl, and he paused a moment, raising a brow, before shaking his head.

“I meant for you to go pull some out to unwedge the boulder up there to flatten them.”

He said, sass evident in his dry tone. You paused, glancing up at where you’d been trapped, and sure enough, there was a giant boulder above some of the rocks you’d used to juggle. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you swallowed, eyes shifting back to your horse.

“Oh.”

He snorted at the reply, rather undignified for a pretty boy such as himself, shaking his head, before walking over to your horse as well and assisting in checking her.

“Only a few little nicks, nothing terrible.”

He said, and you gave him a look.

“A few nicks is terrible. Imagine if you were a horse and you had a few nicks.”

You replied, scowling once again at him, getting quite protective over the horse that technically wasn’t even yours. You’d only just stolen her a few days ago.

He gave you a flat gaze, before blinking.

“I do have a few nicks.”

A few seconds passed in silence, before he pursed his lips, sighed through his nostrils, and tapped the scar on his face with one finger.

“Ohh….. That is not what I meant.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Shut up.”

“I just saved your life and this is how you’re thanking me?”

“I’m starting to wish you hadn’t.”

An exasperated sigh from him again, as those seemed to be his favorite form of expression.

“Why are you even out here?”

“Why are you out here?”

He gave you an annoyed look, something akin to almost a pout on his lips.

“I’m an emissary. It’s my job to travel between courts.”

You raised a brow, hand running over your horse’s dark coat.

“Why by foot when you can easily winnow? Going by foot outside of the court’s boundaries at that.”

More annoyance crossed his features before his hand went to rub the bridge of his nose.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

“Just answer this, where are you going?”

You took a moment of pause, trying to consider whether Lucien was a man to be trusted, looking him up and down. When he raised a brow, you considered it a sure.

“Autumn Court.”

A well-covered-up sour look crossed his face.

“Why there, of all places?”

“I have people there I want to see, and other people I don’t want seeing me. So I’m going to Autumn Court. Using this way.”

He looked at you like you were stupid. You were not stupid.

“And you’re still taking this way?”

“Yes.”

“After almost being devoured by skinwalkers?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, hand going to run through his russet locks as he looked to be thinking.

“I could take you there, I suppose. We’ll still have to travel by foot, seeing as I used all my magic saving you.”

A slightly dirty look in your direction for him having to have used all of his magic just to save your sorry ass. You only gave a little frown, and a reluctant sigh as if you’d accept the offer. And you would. It wasn’t like you had any other choice, but if he was going to be all snarky about it, you would match it.

“Guess we’ve got a new travel buddy.”

You muttered to your horse, patting it on the head.

Your new travel buddy was surprisingly useful, as it turns out. He’d taught you how to forage, what was poisonous and what wasn’t, and what mushrooms you could eat if cooking them well enough (you brought home deadly mushrooms 90% of the time but you looked so happy when he said “good job” that he pretended they were normal and exchanged them for edible ones when you weren’t looking).

You were not meant for hunting, your arm was too unsteady to hold a bow well, fingers kept slipping off the string, the arrow wouldn’t stay straight…it was a mess. Your knife usage wasn’t much better, but you at least got one rabbit over nearly four days.

He hadn’t shared much with you other than his name, but you’d gathered that he was a Vanserra, Emissary for Night Court, and he was always talking about some band of friends named Vassa and Jurian. When you asked, he wouldn’t elaborate. Something about a Band of Outcasts.

He helped make the fire with his magic, and passed out at night, going into a deep sleep to recover what he’d spent of his energy that day, leaving you with the first watch.

Not many incidents occurred after the skinwalker one, but more than once you’d heard twigs snapping when they shouldn’t be, or bushes and leaves rustling. That was usually when you started adding more logs and thatch to the fire, and the noises quickly stopped after that.

You shared the food and drink with him, and he gratefully took it, most of the time both of you eating and discussing childhood meals you’d had to pass the time.

“My mother used to make the spiciest chili I’ve ever had, I couldn’t get it down without crying.”

“Seriously? Isn’t she like, a High Lady, though?”

“She might be a High Lady, but she’s a mean cook, and has a concerning tolerance for spice.”

“Damn. My grandparents make dishes all the time. Potato or tomato soups…lots of soups, but sometimes they’ll make this delicious curry, too.”

“Is the potato soup not bland?”

“No, they like…sauté onions and add salts and peppers, all that. It’s delicious.”

“Maybe I’ll get potato soup someday, just to try it.”

You had given a crooked grin at that, one he couldn’t help but smile at. You reminded him a lot of his younger brothers when they’d still been mere teenagers, except you were older, but still seemingly just as carefree and young at heart.

Your horse was carefree as well, mainly in the manner she didn’t care about anything you told her to do.

“Just lift your foot, it’s not that hard.”

You seethed, trying to pull her hoof up to pick whatever dirt and rocks had gotten into it out, so she didn’t get any sort of infection or injuries from it. However, she huffed and refused to do so much as to bend her knees. Stubborn thing.

Lucien strolled over, dropping a pile of gathered wood before observing the scene before him. He took the sharpened stick you were trying to use as a hoof-pick right out of your hands, and with the most feline ease you'd ever seen before, easily got the mare to lift her hoof, and he cleaned it out.

You stared, blinking, internally furious. He smirked lazily as he glanced over at you. The horse huffed again, this time more relaxed, and he looked a bit more curious then.

“What’s her name?”

Your mind blanked on that, you standing there silently like an idiot, before replying.

“I never really named her, considering I’m immortal and she’s going to die someday. Thought it would be better not to get attached.”

A lie. Not a full lie, but you’d really just forgotten to name her, and accidentally gotten attached along the way. Lucien raised a brow.

“You seemed awful attached when you attacked an eight-foot-tall-“

“Hush.”

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed, moving on to another hoof to clean.

“You should name her. Might make her listen to you better?”

He suggested, and you sighed.

“I don’t even know what to name her. I’m not great with naming things. One of the many reasons I’m never having kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile at that, but quickly faded into a more thoughtful, deep expression, as if thinking hard about something.

A silence passed over you both as he worked, and you idly watched, toying with your hair, not sure and also not very willing to do anything else. He eventually spoke up when he finished cleaning out her hooves, looking the horse over. Her little nicks had been patched up by you and him days ago.

“Jesmind.”

“What?”

“Name her Jesmind.”

“Okay…any particular reason why?”

He shook his head at that, as if not going to talk about it any further.

“She just…reminds me of someone, is all.”

You raised a brow but didn’t push. Not when he went to go walk out into the woods, and you walked over to your dark mare, brushing your hand over her muzzle and looking into her defiant eyes.

“Jesmind, huh?”

You mused, testing how the name sounded on your tongue.

“Blink twice if you think it should be your name.”

The horse just watched, blinking once slowly, and when you made a flicking motion with your fingers, it blinked again, looking annoyed.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Confirmed by the horse herself.”

You said, grinning to nobody in particular as you began walking away, trying to find Lucien, only to almost fall face first off of a cliff edge. One hand grabbed the back of the jacket you were now wearing, pulling you back up.

“We’re here.”

He spoke grimly. This place, Autumn Court, didn’t hold fond memories for him. You could tell. And from what you’d seen and heard of his family and court…you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d done awful things to him. There was a reason he’d run from here so many years ago, after all.

“How am I going to get down there?”

You asked, looking down the large cliff. It was too steep for Jesmind to go down, even trying to go on the sides of it wouldn’t work.

“I’ll winnow you both,”

He said all too casually. You blinked slowly, turning to him.

“I thought you couldn’t winnow, that you needed to regenerate your magic.”

He gave you an amused smile.

“I had more than enough magic to winnow you and your mare the first time we met.”

Your fury slowly began to rise as you gaped at this male in front of you.

“Then why-“

“I was bored, and you seemed like entertaining company.”

Before you could even muster a reply, he gave you a pat on the back, walking back to camp and returning with your horse in one hand and your things in another. He handed you your bag, which you slung around your shoulder, and you took the reigns of Jesmind.

“Will I see you again?”

You asked, and he gave a lazy, but genuine smile this time.

“I’ll never stop annoying you, don’t worry.”

You huffed a bit of laughter.

“That’s a relief.”

His hand went to your shoulder again, and the tangy iron scent of magic hit you once again like it had in the very beginning days of the journey.

“A word of warning,”

He then said, voice now serious.

“Stay out of trouble, and stay away from my brothers. The High Fae of Autumn are not people you want to get caught up with.”

You gave a nod, and in a flash of golden light and fire like a rising sun, you were then in the bustling streets of a city, no Lucien in sight, looking more than a little ghetto.

A horse in one hand, bag hanging from the other, wearing clothes that were best described as hunting clothes rather than the proper clothing most wore, you began walking, the sun so bright and heavy that you could barely see.

Jesmind nickered, pulling to the side of the street.

Just quick enough for you to walk straight into the chest of none other than Eris Vanserra.

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ticktokrobotsnot · 1 year

Text

Turbulence

This is part 1.

You can read Part 2 here

Pairing: Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader

Summary: An accountant helps Carmen organize his shit-hole restaurant.

Word Count: 14k

warning: panic attacks, stabbing Richie in the ass, mentions of suicide, tax evasion lol

After years of working in restaurants as an in-house accountant, Y/n met a lot of chefs. They were all the same, especially the good ones, and the worst part was that they all thought they were so unique and tortured. They assumed that their problems justified them yelling over a broken sauce or a pierced piece of veal. They made food look pretty and they served it to people. Women have been doing that for years and you don't have people praising them for that. Now some guy with a complex does it and its art, it's magical, it's jaw dropping. No, it was a waste of time and energy.

It was food, a necessity and they had perverted it to some freak art show with conflicting flavors and overall mayhem. It was like a cult, where they convinced everyone that their ossobuco for breakfast, coq au vin for lunch, escargots de bourgogne for dinner, and crème brûlée for dessert wasn’t making them physically sick, mixing different cuisine in a failed attempt at being different. It was regular food served small, but the pretentiousness made y/n more sick than their food.

Y/n was willing to concede that Carmen wasn’t the worst chef she met. She got a job at the French Laundry a few years back and there really wasn’t a word that could adequately describe him because to her, Carmen was nothing but a shell of a man.

In their brief encounters, y/n knew Carmen didn’t have a life outside of cooking. She would watch the chefs come in at the ass crack of dawn and Carmen was always there first. Even when he came to pick up his check at the end of the day, he would grab it before running back to the kitchen to check up on some marinated before he left. The stupid hunk of meat deserved more of his attention than the women handing him his paycheck. She had to refrain her self from screaming, “Look at me you stupid fuck, I’m here giving you your paycheck, look me in the fucking eyes. That steak isn’t going to do anything but get shit out in a few hours! I'm real, look at me.”

It was an immature and one-sided hate, Carmen didn’t really deserve it. However, she found it hard to resist seeing him as an easy target, given his passive nature and frustrating obliviousness to the situation. She never actually did anything crazy like mess with his paycheck or fuck with his W-2, it was more like glaring at him when no one was looking or taking a pen that feel out from his bookbag, holding on to it for a few days, and then dropping it near his locker a few days later. It was very harmless and it felt nice to finally have someone to bother, without actually bothering them.

Every so often he would do something that would make it difficult to hate him fully. He would open the door for her when they were the first to come into work, or he would help her pick up some files that she dropped, or put that very pen back in her cup holder because he assumed that the pen was her pen to begin with. If he had said a single word to her, y/n would probably have had a bit of a crush on him but he never did, infact y/n never heard his voice. Her office was quite a walk from the kitchen so she was left wondering if he belonged to the boisterous brigade of chefs who bellowed at anything in their path, or if he truly possessed the quiet demeanor he exuded. If he were to speak a single syllable, he would transform from a mere embodiment of her job dissatisfaction into a fully-formed individual.

That's why she was confused when she got a phone call weeks after Carmen mysteriously left. The resignation was a shock to y/n, she never once expected him to quit, she thought he would die on top of the stove when his heart finally checked out from all that fat, sugar and acid at 65. She remembered mindlessly sticking his last paycheck in an envelope to ship to Chicago, maybe he got a better job there at Venteux, Brindille, or Les Nomades. They must have sent an amazing poacher for him to leave just about everything in his locker but his backpack and never look back.

“Hello, is this y/n?” Y/n sat up on her couch wondering who was calling her at 9pm on a Tuesday.

“Yeah…Who is this?’ Y/n wondered if one of her friends gave out her number without asking her again. Even if this guy had a nice voice and sounded handsome she would have to reject him based on principle.

“It's Carmen…Berzatto… from the French Laundry.” Y/n dropped her phone in shock, not knowing what knocked the wind out of her lungs more, the fact that she was getting a call from an ex-employee, the fact that he had her number in the first place, the fact that she was getting this call scandalously late, or that he actually sounded like that. Jesus, he was really holding back on her.

“Are you still there?” Y/n grabbed her phone from the floor and gave him a simple, “Yes.”

“How have you…been?” He was unsure how to approach this and he would never do this unless he was desperate, which he was.

“I have been fine, I heard you moved to Chicago, a new exciting job?”

“That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about.” Y/n didn’t probe because this felt like payback for all the times that she said something to him hoping that he would fill the space just for him to walk into that stupid fucking kitchen and leave her standing around like a fool.

“Umm…It's a long story but I have this restaurant that needs a bit of accounting?” Y/n didn’t say anything and let him suffer in his own silence like she used to. She chose to flop down on her couch again.

“I'm not sure what the right word is, but the books are a mess and I was wondering if you could have a look.”

“Paid of course. Obviously I'm going to pay you.” He stumbled out. Finally, y/n thought, he was fumbling which was a nice change of pace from his usual stoicism.

“What’s the place's name?”

“The Beef.” Y/n sat up on her elbows.

“I have never heard of it before, how many stars does it have?”

“It doesn't have any.”

“Okay…okay?…” Y/n was assuming that he started working at some nepo babies new pet restaurant, the pay must be amazing for him to leave like that. A part of her was proud of Carmen for choosing money over his craft.

Y/n continued, “Give me the owner’s number and we can get the details together.”

“I'm the owner.” She didn’t think that she could be rendered speechless by a guy who would probably combust if you squirted cheese-wiz within a 10 feet radius of him.

Y/n composed herself, he was calling for her which means that he needed her. She had the leverage and she wouldn’t ruin it by babbling like an idiot. “I can come by next week.”

She heard a distant sigh, “That's…yeah…yeah, that's great, we will cover travel and get you a place to stay.” Y/n wanted to be a bitch and demand first class and a five star hotel but she had a feeling that he would actually think she was being serious.

“I’ll send over the information, y/n.” The sound of her name coming out his lips felt foreign, she had never heard her name spoken like that.

“Good night, Carmen.” Just as she was about to hang up the phone she heard a quiet, “She said yes?” He doubted her. Good, y/n thought, he should doubt her, he doesn’t know anything about her and that was entirely his fault. She hung up the phone and searched up The Beef, she found a hundred restaurants with the same name. What the hell was Carmen doing at a restaurant that couldn’t even come up with an original name.

She gave herself a week to prepare even though she didn’t have a job anymore. She quit a few days after Carmen did, she had lost all motivation to go there everyday, without a target she was just flying till she splattered on the ground.

The underlying reason for her self-imposed week of preparation was a strategic move to play hard to get. Y/n wanted Carmen to realize her value and understand that he needed her and that she was just as good as him, if not better.

Immature, petty, bitchy, difficult, mean; maybe her mother was right about her after all.

A week flew by and she was at baggage claim when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw a short woman in a blue apron and an eye-sore of a bandana.

“I'm Sydney, I'm new. I’m here to pick you up, Carmen says he’s sorry couldn’t do it but we have to prep for the lunch rush.” The way that Sydney looked when speaking about Carmen showed that she had a deep respect for him and a small evil part of y/n wanted to convince Sydney that Carmen was actually tied to the mob or did ballet in his spare time. Something that would knock him off of a pedestal and make him more like a person and less like a God.

Y/n picked up her luggage and wordlessly rolled it over to where Sydney had it parked. The ride to the restaurant was filled with questions that she really didn’t know the answer to, What was Carmen like in New York? What was a dish of his that y/n liked the most?

Sydney should have asked what his salary was, that y/n knew like the back of her hand. Y/n answer those questions by repeating things that other people have said about Carmen. His plum desert was to die for, he was very methodical in the kitchen, and he ran a tight ship, what more could she possibly know?

Sydney finally pulled over in a rough neighborhood and y/n wondered if Sydney needed to do an errand before they finished their journey but when she saw through the window that another guy was wearing the same color apron as Sydney, she knew that this was the famous “The Beef'' that took Carmen away from her. It wasn’t even called “The Beef'' it was called, “The Original Beef of Chicagoland '' which was somehow even worse.

Y/n told Sydney that she needed a few moments to herself and when Sydney slipped inside, y/n started sprinting towards the pub next door. She gave the bartender a sob story about how she was looking for a job next door as a waitress and how she wanted to know what the situation was next door, for her safety, before she asked for a job. The bartender bought her story and gave her a quick review of what had happened. The previous owner killed himself, shot his brains out, and now it was under new management, the old guy’s brother. Yikes didn’t even begin to cover what y/n thought but that was the best she could come up with, so...Yikes.

She ran back to the restaurant, fixed up her hair and walked in like she didn’t just hear a horrific story that was going to make it very difficult to do her job.

Y/n walked in, and she felt like she was in an alternate dimension, y/n was by no means spoiled and she had eaten in worse places than this, but the thought that Carmen Berzatto, her Carmen Berzatto, was working in a place like this felt like a joke. She wondered how stupid he looked in his chef whites, slicked back hair, and annoying long apron that looked like a skirt.

The restaurant hadn’t opened yet but she was greeted by a woman named Tina who basically rolled her eyes at y/n and then disappeared into the kitchen. Sydney chirped in with a comforting, “Yeah…she’s like that.” Y/n gave her an understanding smile. She wasn’t expecting much because nobody likes an intruder.

“Carmen said I need to look at some books. Do you know where they are…or where he is so he can tell me where they are?”

“Sdy, can you cover for me.” Y/n’s head snapped up, she recognized that voice from the phone call and was rendered speechless twice. He wasn’t wearing those migraine inducingly ugly chef whites but regular clothes with a blue apron. He had many more tattoos than she thought. His hair wasn’t slick back with gel but it was actually relaxed barring any sweat that might have pushed his hair back. Carmen was buff, which was such a shock to her that she really did feel like this was not real. And lastly, he called this “new” chef Sdy, a nickname. They were close, and y/n couldn’t explain it but that made her eyes twitch. She worked so hard to get to know him the first few months at the French Laundry and got nothing and now “Syd” got a nickname.

She took a deep breath before, “It's been a while.”

“Thanks for coming, let me show you the books.” She was surprised to hear any form of thanks from him but the lack of small talk was really nothing new. She followed him through the kitchen and heat from all the stoves made her nauseous. There was a lot of yelling and it looked like it was an overall mess both aesthetically wise and teamwork wise.

They finally got to the office, it had a worn desk littered with what looked like a fuck ton of papers, scratch that bills. Y/n looked up at Carmen who looked…ashamed. She took a deep breath before sitting down on the chair and looked up at Carmen waiting for him to give her a rundown of everything. They were behind on every bill imaginable, they hadn’t been able to pay vendors, and there were quotes for broken machines. Looks like Carmen’s brother left him a real shit show.

This felt like winning the lottery, not only was she seeing an interesting puzzle for her to solve, she was able to see Carmen look human for once. It was a shame, however, that the only human emotion that he was showing was stress but something was better than nothing. One thing that was untouched was the payroll, he never was behind on paying his workers, y/n felt a slight tug in her chest but she ignored that.

He looked down at her, and asked, “I’m going to leave this with you…umm….” And then he left the kitchen. Y/n starting grabbing floating folders and organizing. Most of the stuff was kinda sorted, but stuff like old payroll documents were in a file called “shit”, so she thought a total revamp was necessary.

It felt like y/n was an intern again, resigned to tedious work. After a few hours and a quick trip to Staples for office supplies, she had made the cluttered desk look like her old desk in the French Laundry…empty, sterile, cold.

With a deep breath she left the kitchen to find Sydney so she could unlock her car so that y/n could grab her laptop. The heat was bad, but the yelling was mind scrambling. It felt like she was dropped in a war zone trying to find where she parked her car, an innocent civilian amongst the war torn soldiers. She couldn’t be here any longer, she practically ran over to Sydney and asked for her car keys and was mindlessly directed to some lockers. Y/n could tell that she was busy so she didn’t ask which one in particular.

She started opening random lockers, and after her third one she saw a familiar sight. A brown wool jacket, the same one she had seen Carmen wear in New York, she quickly shut the door. This was too much, he was becoming a bit too human, too real. She finally found the right locker and rushed to get her laptop and the rest of her luggage and shut the office door.

She spent the first quarter of her day digitizing payroll as a quick warm up, she had a feeling that she would need it.

Y/n moved on to a leather bound book under a gas bill and after a quick glance she knew that this was going to be a fucking disaster. Whoever did the books used different coloured pens, was writing outside the lines, circling stuff randomly, doodling, and this was just the visual disaster, the closer she looked at the chicken scratch the more she realized how deep in debt this palace was. Thousands of dollars were being drained seemingly randomly and then money was being put back just as chaotically. There was no record of how the money was being spent or where the money was coming from. Even though y/n didn’t know Carmen very well she knew he would never do this, it was that brother of his. The inside of the cover said Micheal Berzzato.

She spent the rest of the day organizing the accounts payable and receivables. It was like trying to go through a dense forest with a pair of nail clippers but she got through a fraction of it. She already knew that the money wouldn’t add up and that if they got audited, the restaurant would be in deep shit.

She had her headphones in and nearly fell off her chair if Carmen didn’t brace her when he came in unannounced. Her heart practically shot out of her ass but she pulled herself together.

“I thought you would have left by now.”

Y/n looked at the time on her laptop and saw that it was 11:30pm, she was a bit impressed with herself. Look at me Carmen, I can also throw myself at my work and I didn’t need people to think I'm God’s gift to man.

“I lost track of time, is the restaurant still open?” Carmen shook his head. Y/n sat up and ushered him to the chair. She didn’t like it when people hovered over her and she wanted Carmen to look up at her for once. She placed her left hand on the back of his chair and her right on the laptop’s trackpad.

“Your payroll needed to be updated, no one does this on paper anymore.” Y/n showed him how to move things around, how to change certain information, etc and she was expecting him to half heartedly listen but was pleasantly surprised when he sat there and listened. He asked meaningful questions which almost made her fall over, he wanted to learn and that was very… admirable. Y/n had to snap herself out of it, of course he was listening, she was brought here to fix and teach, and she wasn’t cheap either.

She then directed him to the organized files and how to maintain file organization in case he was ever audited. He stared with such intensity that she had to turn around and pretend that she was looking for a file. She spent her entire career working in a building where almost no one knew her name, or really looked at her. The chefs were busy with their eye filets and lobster to look at her, management spoke to her through emails but now she was center stage which was making it hard to focus.

She ended her presentation with a short run down of the order that he should pay off certain bills based on priority. She finally looked down at him and was surprised that he was still looking back at her.

“Wow…all that in a day?” Y/n only presented 50% of the work she did today, omitting the illicit money transactions Micheal had orchestrated, and here Carmen was looking at her like she was God’s gift to him.

“It’s going to take a while to decipher this,” holding up the leather book, “but it's not impossible.”

Carmen parted his lips before closing them a few times, “How long can you stay here? Like how many vacation days did you take?”

Y/n debated telling him that she still had a job back home but there really wasn’t any point in lying to make herself look good for Carmen. Y/n was never one to be unnecessarily cruel, just a bit of a nuisance, so she would give him a bit of satisfaction. It was to make up for what she put him through in New York. She pretended to search for something on her laptop while avoiding Carmen’s eyes beneath her.

“I don’t work there anymore.” Carmen’s head shot up and he wondered if he had heard that correctly. He wanted to ask why she left but he knew that would be crossing a line.

“What are your future plans?” Y/n looked up and wondered that as well.

She knew she had to leave French Laundry, she hated the long hours, overbearing bosses, and most of all she hated the people she worked with. There was a team of accountants who worked near her and even though she did the majority of the work she always had to fight to get a seat at the table. She was smart, talented, and competent but she was always officially relegated to payroll even when she was the one who spent weeks organizing binders filled with projection just for some jackass to get the credit. The issue wasn’t just her coworkers but her bosses that assumed that someone else had done the research and let her present, and infuriatingly no one ever corrected management. Add all of that with the loss of what she considered her only acquaintance, she ran as fast as she could.

As for future plans, she had enough money to live a relatively nice life even if she didn’t find work for a year. She hated the French Laundry but she couldn’t sell them short, they paid her very well.

“I don’t know, I will probably have to find a new job.” That piqued Carmen’s interest, he assumed that she had another job lined up because y/n didn’t seem like the type to get up and leave without an exit strategy.

“If you're interested…” Carmen didn’t want to get his hopes up but he knew that he needed her here, this couldn’t work without someone like her. “You can always work here.”

Carmen’s head was swimming, if she said yes that would make his life a million times easier. He might actually be able to sleep a full eight hours.

Y/n didn’t really know how to respond, she didn’t hate the idea. “Am I going to be the only one working finance here?” Carmen’s chest fell, of course this was too much for one person.

“Yeah but if you need more peo-”

“Just me is fine. I don’t like working with other people.” Clear and blunt, y/n didn’t want to waste his time.

“Yeah..” Carmen looked one last look at the computer screen with the filled excel sheets that transformed his brother’s horrible business practices to legible spreadsheets and he knew he definitely needed her.

“What time do you want me to come tomorrow?”

“Whenever is good for you?”

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows. “You are paying for my services so act like it.” What she said was rude and slightly uncalled for.

Carmen looked up at her and felt like he was back in New York again, like when he was too scared to talk to her or when he would catch her glaring at him from the corner of his eye. Carmen knew she didn’t like him but if he needed her so what could he do, most of his staff already hated him so what was one more.

Y/n sighed, she tried to intimidate him to force him to toughen up but it looks like it just made him clam up. “That was really rude for me to say, but I think you need to hear it.” Y/n had a feeling that he was going to remember this so she thought she started to do damage control.

“All I ever hear about your food is how amazing and jaw dropping and delicious and mind blowing it is. You are very..” Y/n struggled to find a neutral word that would allow her to lift his spirits but not too high, “..competent. Your staff however…”

That got Carmen to pick up his head, “They are goo-”

“And I bet they are good but you can’t do your job and show off their skills and talents if they all walk around you like that. Can I be frank with you?” Carmen slowly nodded his head.

“I don’t see your restaurant lasting very long with the crew you have here.” Carmen knew that but hearing it out loud stung. “You have to make a few changes, either swap out a few annoying chefs or make them change.”

A few hours prior, y/n’s curiosity had gotten the best of her and she looked through Sydney’s resume. It was stacked with good restaurants and she even had a brief stint at catering, y/n didn’t hesitate to admit that Sydney was just as capable as Carmen.

“Get Sydney more involved, she can do much more than what you have her doing now.” Y/n saw Sdyney’s pay which showed that she was getting paid a regular chef salary, she deserved sous-chef. Carmen nodded his head but he was looking away, in his mind he wondered how she could possibly even know that while sitting in his office all day.

“They’re used to doing things a certain way.”

“I'm guessing fear is not your management style.” Y/n pondered how she would fix a situation like this if she was in his shoes. “I would say avoid baptism by fire.”

Y/n continued, “It's going to be a mess but you just need to lead the kitchen like you did in New York for the first few days and then transfer the responsibility to Sydney who will be watching the entire time so she isn’t thrown into a pile of shit on her first day and quit. That way you can continue to do whatever you were doing in New York.”

It had never occurred to Carmen that y/n didn’t know what he did, but then again he barely knew what she did. He would watch her typing away or he would hear fragments of urgent phone calls about audits, and give out checks. But other than that he didn’t know what she did for the rest of her day, so he had to swallow his discontentment with her not noticing him because he was no better than her.

“I think you need to expect more from people, you don’t have to do everything by yourself.” Y/n concluded.

It was quiet barring the sound of the lights buzzing. Just as y/n was about to slip out, Carmen swiftly stood up and walked out the office towards the kitchen and started pulling out bowls.

“I thought you said that this place was closed, what are you making?”

“What do you want to eat?” Carmen wasn’t looking at her as he grabbed a knife and a cutting board.

“Umm…You don’t need-”

“Give me something, y/n”

“It's late, Carmen.”

“You’ve been here all day and you didn’t eat anything…” Y/n gave him a disapproving look.

“Y/n.” He asserted, she couldn’t leave in good faith without eating something.

She didn’t fail to notice that when he lost control back in the office he came rushing out to re-assert his power by forcing her to eat something he was going to make.

“I don’t know…something easy and wont fuck up my stomach.” Y/n conceded.

Carmen smirked, and y/n was able to appreciate his objective handsomeness. After a few minutes of chopping she was presented with a simple salad.

“I tried to replicate the salad dressing from what I smelled from the last time I went to your office.” Y/n was shocked, she didn’t know that he noticed stuff like that, she was also amused that he had a great nose, both functionally and aesthetically.

Y/n was also surprised when Carmen asked her, “Why did you leave?”

“Why did you?” Y/n countered, she knew the answer but she assumed that he wouldn’t tell her. This felt like a decent way to manufacture some space. One step forward for making a meal and 2 steps back for asking probing questions.

“My brother used to own this place…and he died…killed himself.” Carmen was full of surprises today.

Y/n mumbled out, “I hated working there so much I would crawl out of bed hoping that I would fall, crack my head open and never have to step foot in there anymore… I would be gagging a block away from work every single day because I couldn’t stomach another second in my office.”

Y/n assumed that Carmen couldn’t relate, he was a god back in New York.

“I used to throw up every morning.” Y/n put her fork down and looked up at Carmen who continued. “And I would get these heat flashes while I was there even when the kitchen was like negative three-thousand fucking degrees.”

They were never good enough.

It was an embarrassing thing for both of them to admit, they tried to survive in New York and failed because they were weak, but at least they were in good company.

“My boss was a dick. He used to say crazy shit just to get a rise out of me.” Y/n didn’t know that Carmen had a boss, she just assumed that he ran the kitchen.

“Who was your boss?” Y/n went down her rolodex of names before landing on, “That guy with the huge forehead?”

Carmen covered his mouth with his hand but she knew there was a smile underneath. She was able to get a good look at his tattoo, she had only caught glimpses when he would grab an envelope from her or hold the door. At the time she thought it was out of place but seeing the whole picture, Carmen with his wavy hair, gold chain, smirk, and arm littered with tattoos she realized that she was missing out on a lot.

Y/n finished her salad and helped him clean up before they locked up the restaurant and Carmen stuffed her luggage in the trunk.

“You’ve seen our books..”

Y/n gave a small hum.

“So you know that we can’t put you in a hotel for weeks.”

“If I'm not staying at a hotel, where am I going?” Y/n was ready to jump out of the car if he said his house.

“I have a family friend of a friend who is visiting family down in Florida, and she said you can stay there.”

A weight was lifted off of y/n shoulders, y/n was feeling bold, “You’ve ever been to Florida?”

“I went once to check out a few restaurants when I was younger, you?” Y/n hid it well but she was shaking in nerves because it was the first time in years that she was getting some small talk out of him.

“I went to Disney with my family and got a heat stroke. How long is your family friend of a friend staying in Florida?”

“More than 2 months later, she left like a few days ago.” That caused some concern for y/n, she was going to stay in a house that had been abandoned for a few days in a new city, it was like the beginning of a B - rated horror film. The possibility of a serial killer waiting to turn her into a lamp shade was probably close to zero but it still freaked her out. Carmen pulled into the driveway carrying all of her bags leaving her with just her purse.

They approached the front of the house and Carmen opened the door and started placing the suitcases near the entryway, and y/n kept the door open, and Carmen got the hint. She wasn’t going to forge some type of artificial connection by asking him to help her walk through the house for any intruders because that would require her to rely on him.

To y/n, Carmen was unreliable, he could ignore her for years, only to suddenly offer her rides and engage in small talk. What puzzled her even more was his transition from avoiding eye contact to intensely staring her down. Y/n could tell from the sound that leaked from under the office door that he had an underlying temper, a bad one too. She didn’t want to be swept up in his current and be left high and dry. He seemed like he picked up things quickly and left them just as sporadically. While she recognized his passion for food and cooking, ensuring her job stability, Carmen was…unsteady.

Y/n knew people like him, people who hurt those who were close to them when they felt trapped. What feared y/n the most was what would eventually come out of her mouth if they ever got too close and Carmen said something to make her go away. He would say something vile and y/n would probably say that he is nothing, or that he is a failure, or that it should have been him and not his brother.

The thought of saying something so profoundly awful and untrue haunted her, making it impossible for her to bear the weight on her conscience. She had crossed that line before and was acutely aware of her limits. Carmen represented that limit—a boundary she couldn't afford to cross—rendering him off-limits in her life.

Carmen left a quiet goodbye and y/n gave him one back before shutting the door grabbing a knife and going through each of the rooms herself. She didn’t need him or anyone.

Once she went through the house with a fine tooth comb she locked herself in one of the bedrooms, got ready for bed. Her lease in New York expired in a few weeks so she knew she had to fly back to grab her stuff. She couldn’t sleep in this grandma’s house any longer so she grabbed her laptop and started looking for apartments.

Y/n woke up to the sound of her alarm and she felt nauseous before she remembered that she wasn’t crawling back to the French Laundry, she was trying something new. She got ready and spent the whole morning calling realtors and scheduling showings. She took the train to The Beef and when she came in, it looked like they were about to have some type of meeting outfront. Y/n slipped into the office and was momentarily shocked that Carmen was there. She put her bag behind the chair while Carmen was sitting, subtly telling him to fuck off and that this was her desk now. Carmen got up, “What a good boy? So smart”, y/n chuckled in her head.

“What is happening out front? Do I need to sit in?”

“We need to introduce you and we are going to transition to a french brigade, I just spoke to Sydney..”

“How did she take it? You told her you were going to take the lead or did-?”

Carmen was checking his watch obsessively, “She will be fine.” Looks like Carmen was in a hurry and so y/n didn’t even wait for Carmen to open the door before she walked over to the meeting.

She didn’t sit down because there wasn’t a chair for her. She saw the other chefs look at her but no one bothered to ask any questions. Sydney was standing right next to her and y/n saw that she was rehearsing her lines that were written in a small black notebook.

“Don’t mention the role titles, it's just going to scare them off.” Sydney looked up at her. “And keep it short and don’t fumble your words, you’ll sound like a fourth grader.” Sydney opened her mouth but was cut off by Carmen walking out front.

Carmen started explaining about how they were getting new aprons, how he wanted to reorganize the kitchen, and how they needed to be clean. He did not yet explain the elephant in the room to the rest of the chefs; who was y/n and what the hell is she doing here? Carmen was interrupted by a tall man walking in very late.

He took one look at y/n before pointing at her with a coffee cup, “Who are you? Cousin, why are you collecting women?”

“I am y/n, I am the new accountant.” Any form of teasing and snickering died down as a new worry washed over the staff, if Carmen was changing everything he might start changing staff. If y/n could sense it, then so could Carmen and just as she looked up to him for support he quickly excused himself because he had somewhere to be. He just left her to deal with this mess. See? Not stable.

“Do you have any questions for me?”

“Your not fucking firing anyone.” The tall guy threatened.

“Nobody is getting fired, no one is getting a pay cut and no one is getting replaced. If anything like that happens, that is Carmen’s decision.” Y/n allowed herself to throw Carmen under the bus just once because he left her.

“I’ll just be keeping the books in order.”

“Richie, sit down.” An older woman instructed.

“Carmen said something about a French brigade, it's essentially what you guys are doing just with more defined roles, it's not too different. Sydney will elaborate.” Y/n though she did an acceptable job not throwing Sydney head first like Carmen did and Sydney seemed to be a lot more comfortable then she was a few minutes ago. She didn’t title drop and she didn’t fumble. The crew was obviously annoyed but it was over quickly and Sydeny walked over to y/n.

They walked into the kitchen and Sydeny was feeling overwhelmed because Carmen wasn’t here like he said that he would be.

“Thanks for the pointers”

“No problem. Do you need me to help?” Y/n had seen the inner workings of a kitchen before, granted it had been many years prior and in a different restaurant then the French Laundry but she thought that she would be better support then Carmen, who wasn’t even there.

Y/n spent most of her time calling out orders, tracking what was sent out and doing quality checks, it wasn’t rocket science and she never understood why all those male chefs were screaming all the time, Sydney walked around and did her job as sous-chef. Overall, a very calm transition barring a few hiccups. A few of the chefs tried to steal some onions and y/n had to leave her station and tell them to basically fuck off. Sydney was already tense and doing stupid shit like that would send her over the edge.

The lunch rush was over and y/n was finally reprieved from her duties. She needed some air so she walked outside and into an alley where she saw Carmen.

She was beyond pissed at him, and the sight of him made her boil in rage but she couldn’t leave based on principle.

“How was Sydney?” Carmen asked. Y/n felt like murdering him. She took a few deep breaths before continuing to speak. He wouldn't listen to her if she screamed at him.

“You should have been there.” Y/n said with a bit of an edge.

It was quiet for a long time. Y/n put her head back.

“I went to an Al-Anon meeting, my brother was an addict. It’s his birthday today”

“How often are the meetings? Once a week?” Carmen nodded.

“Did it maybe occur to you to push back the transition one more day so you didn’t leave Sydney alone?” Y/n said calmly and with no malice, she was so exhausted from her lack of sleep, food, and being on her feet all day.

Carmen didn’t say anything, so y/n continued, “You're a steam roller. You don’t listen to other people and you don't think of other people. You left Sydney to drown, that wasn’t great. Not to mention you didn’t even introduce me.”

Carmen's gaze bore into her with undeniable intensity, yet y/n was too upset with him to be swayed by any semblance of attraction.

“I’ll do better. I’ll listen and be there.”

“We’ll see.” Saying you were going to change was different than actually changing.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, she graced him with a small smile. "You know, your job isn't that tough," she playfully teased, tilting her head back slightly.

“Really?” Carmen thought she was being serious.

“No kidding, you should hand me your apron and the deed to this restaurant because I just killed it today.” Carmen caught on.

“What did you do today?”

“Called out orders, made sure things were leaving the kitchen, blah blah blah. Honestly, it's kind of fun. It's like those restaurant management phone games, do you ever play those?”

“That would hit a little too close to home.” Y/n snickered.

“My head is spinning and I didnt even start the work I'm supposed to do today.” Y/n sat up with a sigh.

“What do you eat?” Y/n didn’t respond. Carmen got up and came back a few minutes later with a plate of food.

Y/n finished eating before walking inside and finishing up her actual work. The day ended and she was once again the last one left barring Carmen, who offered to drive her back.

As they both sat in the quiet car y/n spoke up, “I have to go back to New York.” Carmen’s grip tightened around the wheel.

“I said I would do better.”

“I'm not leaving permanently, I need to grab my stuff and tell my landlord that I am leaving.”

Carmen’s grip loosened, “You found a place here already?”

“I have a few candidates. I might have to leave in the afternoons for a few weeks to check out some places, I'll be back in an hour or two.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, he dropped her off and y/n crashed into bed.

Y/n had already been working for a few weeks when she came back to a dark restaurant. She walked in and saw Carmen and Fak talking, “ I thought you had a connection.”

“Yeah, I definitely, definitely did not.” Which was followed by more whispering and then a loud, “Fuck” from Carmen.

“What’s happening?” Carmen shot a look at Fak that sent him away and Carmen gave her a quick run down, the power was out and they needed 5,500 dollars to repair.

“There isn’t any money in the budget but maybe if you finance…” Carmen looked around to check if anyone was there before directing her to his office. Y/n turned on her phone flashlight so they could see.

“I’m going to ask you something, and it's completely hypothetical. Like not even a little bit true and you can tell me what the outcome would be.” Y/n nodded her head.

“Suppose we had a way to get the money but it wasn’t completely…legal…hypothetically. I'm not asking anything illegal because this is hypothetical… but what would happen to the books hypothetically?”

“You can talk like a regular fucking person, you know, I'm not going to snitch. Do you need me to fix some books?”

“I shouldn't have said anything.” Carmen started walking towards the door and y/n grabbed his shirt and pushed him towards the chair. He looked up at her and the phone light made her look like a prophecy discovered in a dream, so angel-like. Her words, not so much.

“You brother died so any fuck up that he did will result in us having to pay a fine which is not the end of the world, but if you fuck up… then thats malice and its jail time plus a fine…”

Y/n knew it was harsh so she softened her voice before uttering, “Let me help you, I want to help you.” Carmen was having a hard time focusing, she wanted to help him which means that she cared about him. Maybe her words were like an angel.

“Is it a one time payment or is it…” Camen wasn’t responding, he was just looking up at her. Before she could ask what his problem was, he interrupted.

“I have to ask Richie.” Carmen peeled himself off the chair and opened the door for y/n. They walked to the front where y/n saw Richie and Fak were glaring at each other. Carmen and y/n took a seat.

“What is she doing here?” Richie said while not hiding his disdain for her.

“She has to make this legal.” Carmen explained.

Rcihie signaled for Carmen and Fak to come closer. “WHY DID YOU BRING A FUCKING NARC HERE?” Richie yelled into Carmen’s ears which made him reel back and clutch his ear. Y/n had to look away to hide her laughter.

Carmen rushed to her defense, “She isn’t-”

“I won't. I'm just going to clean it up and we will never have to talk about it again.”

“We can’t trust her, why would you fucking bring her?” He asked Carmen who repeated what she said to him in the office about malice and jail.

“I know you don’t trust me but I need this place running so that everyone here has a job next month. I don’t even need to know how you got it.”

Richie looked like he was thinking, before he threatened, “If you squeal i’m going to put your head on a fucking stick.” He looked like he was apprehensive but realized that this was the only way to protect Carmen so he had to risk trusting her.

Y/n didn’t pay attention to their little squabble afterwards, but then the lights flickered on. They were back in business. Carmen slammed his palms on the counter and exclaimed a relieved, “Fuck” which made y/n short circuit for a second. It was nice to hear him happy for a change.

The rest of the day was spent creating fake receipts and adjusting inventory to account for the new money. It was busy work and after a long time, Carmen came into her office, it was her office for sure, squatters rights.

“Are we good?”

“The IRS will be none the wiser…” Y/n said she wouldn’t ask but the curiosity was killing her.

“How did you guys get the money?”

“I don’t want to put you in deeper shit and this isn’t your scene.” He looked like he regret dragging her into his mess in the first place.

“Did you know when I was younger I used to shoplift.” Carmen looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t need to lie to-.”

“I used to walk into stores and steal, I had the money to buy stuff but sometimes I just felt like taking something…so I did.” She wanted to be on an even playing ground as him so he wouldn’t hesitate to come to her in case something like this happened again. She couldn’t do her job if he hid stuff from her.

“You want to know what the most expensive thing I stole?”

“I still don’t believe you stole anything.” He said with a laugh.

“I stole someone’s wallet. It had $527 dollars and a bunch of credit cards, Ethan Thompson. Slid it right out of his pocket.”

“What did you do with the money?” Carmen asked. Y/n debated lying but she thought honesty was how he would learn to trust her.

“I didn’t spend it, I waited outside till he came out and gave the wallet back. Told him that he dropped it. It was the only thing I ever gave back.” Carmen stared at her with a bewildered expression before laughing into his palm.

“That seems like something you would do.”

“Why do you say that?” Y/n was offended that he was insinuating that she was a loser.

“You are honest to a fault. Brutally honest.”

“It's hard work but I try. Would you have returned it?” Carmen nodded his head.

“Yeah, I bet you would have gone the extra mile and turned it into the police.”

A lull of silence passed and it was clear that Carmen wasn’t going to tell her so she switched topics.

“I don’t want to be mean, but sometimes that's the only way I can get people to listen to me…I’ve been working on it.”

Carmen didn’t want to be a smart-ass and say that he noticed a significant difference from her behavior towards him now compared to New York. She didn’t look like she was disgusted by him anymore. A bit of him wondered if he could change as effortlessly as y/n, she made it look so easy.

“By the way…I'm going to take this office. Like it's mine now.” Carmen wondered if she was joking because she had a smile on her face.

“If you want it, take it. I never want to see another spreadsheet in my life.” If y/n smiled at him like that it would be nearly impossible for him to say no to anything. It was like finally getting her approval after working hard to get it in New York, like when he used to wake up early so he could walk in with her and open the door for her.

There was a lull of and just as Carmen was going to fill it with a probing question y/n beat him to it.

"Was it a murder-for-hire?" Y/n inquired, but Carmen remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Sex work? Tax evasion? Robbery? Drugs?..." y/n continued, listing off possibilities, and in that moment, Carmen's lips tightened imperceptibly. It was a subtle movement, one that might have gone unnoticed by most, but for y/n, it was captivating, drawing her further into his enigmatic presence.

“Drugs.” She said with a slight smile,

“I'm not admitting to anything. Did you find a place you liked?” Carmen wanted to distract her but he also wanted to keep her here longer and he finally had the confidence and momentum to keep her talking.

“I found one, it’s like 20 minutes from here. One-bedroom but it looks much better than my shit box in New York. And they are going to hold it for a while while i get my shit from back home”

“What neighborhood?” Carmen’s heart leaped when she said the same neighborhood that he stayed in, but he controlled himself.

“That new building? I walk past it everyday.” Carmen didn’t offer to carpool because he didn’t want to hear a rejection. That would kill any confidence he might have gained in the last few weeks.

“We're neighbors, that's nice. You have a car, can we carpool?” Carmen wondered if she could read minds.

“I get here early and leave late-”

“I’ll just come and go when you do. I don’t have anything else to do in Chicago anyways…I booked a flight for tomorrow morning to get my stuff.” She moves fast Carmen thought. It was admirable how she knew what she wanted, planned her moves and executed them in record time. He wondered if she ever panicked and fumbled like he did, if she did he never saw it.

“What time is your flight?”

“Seven”

“I can drive you.” Y/n wondered if this was too much, she didn’t want to rely on him.

“I’ll take a cab, you have to be here for Sydney.” She didn’t leave Carmen any room to argue.

The next couple of months were much better than Carmen thought was possible. Y/n had engrained herself in their team, and Carmen was able to get his eight hours of sleep every night. They finally had enough money to not feel like the whole restaurant was going to crash and burn.

Sydney had brought up the idea of to-go orders placed through a tablet and after much deliberation and consulting with y/n, he decided to give it ago.

Y/n had stepped out to sign for delivery and was making some pleasant conversation before she heard some commotion from the kitchen. She bid the delivery man a goodbye before walking in to see what the situation was.

Y/n had never seen the kitchen in such chaos since her first day. Carmen's voice reverberated, barking out orders, while Sydney unleashed her own tirade upon Marcus for mishandling the cake cutting. Tension hung heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was clear to y/n that this wouldn’t end well. Jogging over to Sweeps, who thankfully wasn't completely overwhelmed, she learned that Sydney had messed up the to-go order settings, resulting in a barrage of pre-orders due within a few minutes. Y/n hesitated for a moment, positioning herself in a corner, desperately searching for a way to be of use amidst the chaos. With her limited culinary skills, she felt somewhat helpless, unsure of where she could provide the most assistance.

“Um, I’m doing them in five–” Sydney stuttered.

“No, no, stop. Fire everything right fucking now!”

“Step out.” He was interrupted by Sydney’s excuses.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY EXPO, CHEF, NOW!” That made y/n jump, she heard him yell before but this was a lot worse, the shock made it impossible for her to look anywhere but the back of his head.

Just as things looked like they couldn't get worse she heard a loud crash and saw two cakes on the floor. Y/n rushed over there to de-escalate and practically had to rip Sydney away from Richie.

“I said corner.” Richie said childishly. Y/n was starting to feel like a babysitter. And just as y/n was about to run over to her office to hide, she hears Sydney snap at Tina. Y/n guides Tina away from Sydney.

“Somebody get me a fucking sharpie!” Carmen bellowed and y/n ran to the office and pulled out a few and placed them in front of Carmen then walked back to her little corner. She heard that Richie and Sydney were at it again, sensing that round two was going to be worse she had to go check on that mess. Sydney is harping on and on about how much of a loser Richie and y/n was forced to step in when she hears Sydney talk about Richie’s daughters while waving a knife.

“What the fuck are you guys’ doing? We do not have the time for your asinine bullshit?” Sydney doesn’t even look over and y/n had to tug at Richie to get him to step down, normally y/n would appeal to Sydney’s good graces but she couldn’t go near her when she was waving a knife around.

“Richie, why don’t we take a step back and-” y/n asked.

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!” Y/n turned her head and saw Carmen squishing something Marcus gave him before throwing it on the floor.

“Yo, Cousin, just fuckin chill-” Richie stepped back and even when she saw where the knife was headed she was to slow to do anything. Richie walked into the knife and blood started pouring out.

Y/n felt her breath pick up, her palms started to itch, and she was seeing double. She fought her nerves and led Richie to the front where Ebra would dress his wounds. Y/n didn’t want to look at Richie’s bare ass but she had to make sure it wasn’t bad enough to warrant a hospital trip, it didn’t and y/n saw that as a complete win.

Y/n ran back to the kitchen towards Sydney where she was sitting near the lockers. She was about to leave.

“We need you, you can’t leave. Tell me what I need to do to fix this.” Y/n desperate, she knew the face of someone who had given up and she saw it all over Sydney.

“He is being a little bitch.” Y/n didn’t know how to fix Carmen’s attitude so she did the next best thing, stall.

“Please, give me a day to fix this. I’ll have him come around and apologize, I'll make him regret even getting out of bed. Just please stay till this blows over. We need you. Please.” Y/n was beyond desperate, she couldn't stand doing Carmen’s job of managing his team but she forced herself to pull through. Sydney backed down and went to the sink to wash her knife before going back to prep.

Y/n hears Carmen walk over to Sydney and ask, “We good, chef?”, who wasn’t responding. This bastard was so incredibly dense y/n almost wanted Sydney to blow up in his stupid face and maybe stab him in the ass too but she denied herself that pleasure and quickly diverted Carmen over to the expo.

“Now is not the time. Do this later… Please.” Y/n was grasping at straws here and she wasn’t even given the satisfaction of being able to yell at someone. Carmen went back to his expo but not before bending down and eating something off the floor. He has definitely lost it, y/n muttered.

She went to find Marcus who was just about to leave. She thanked him for today and apologized on Carmen’s behalf. Y/n didn’t want to be a bitch but Marcus was not high on her priority list right now, him leaving would let her deal with less people and make her job easier.

She ran out front to check up on Richie again. “Please tell me you're okay.” He gave a small laugh and then a grunt. She saw that he was grasping an empty carton of cigarettes.

Y/n didn’t know how, but the storm passed and the doors opened for customers. Y/n slipped out and bought a carton of cigarettes and some painkillers from a nearby gas station and handed them over to Richie.

“I know this isn’t even a good enough apology but I’m really sorry about today.”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“You're not going to get an apology from Sydney for a while so let my apology be a placeholder.” Y/n rounded her eyes and tried to see if there was any residual tension from this morning and to her relief Richie was fine.

“Tell me if you need something.” She then went back to the kitchen and Sydney was still cutting stuff and Carmen was yelling out orders with less fury. Y/n wasn’t going to have anything positive to say to either of them so she would wait till after the lunch rush. She slipped back to the front and sat on a bar stool with her laptop. She couldn’t face either of the chefs right now.

Looking at Sydney was difficult, and the longer that y/n waited out front with Richie to make sure he didn’t die of blood loss while manning the front, the more pissed she got at Sydney for not having the decency to come out to check up on Richie or even apologize.

Looking at Carmen was even more difficult, a part of y/n wanted to be proven wrong about her previous notions about pretentious chefs. But both Sydney and Carmen were the only one’s screaming and that because they felt like they were entitled to it, that they were the only ones who were allowed to be stressed and upset. They were selfish and that was a painful thing for y/n to admit about Carmen because that meant that his promise to change when she first came here was a lie. He couldn’t handle any type of stress without flipping out and she wondered if this was even the right profession for him.

The lunch crowd died down and she directed Sydney towards her office and shut the door, “You want to tell me what happened today?” Y/n faked the sincerity, Sydney wouldn’t talk if y/n was hostile.

“Carmen was being a dick. Everyone else is dealing with the same shit but now…” Y/n didn’t want to hear anything else for her.

“How is Richie?” Y/n asked with a bit of an edge.

“He walked into my kni-”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I don’t know, okay? But it was his fault,” Y/n had to remind herself to take a few deep breaths, she wouldn’t let her anger get the best of her and she would refrain from yelling.

“When you finish with your shift, can you please talk to Richie, at least pretend like you care that you stabbed someone.”

“He called me a bitch and was all over my station, he deserved it, ”

“You deserved to be called more than a bitch.” Y/n regretted the words as soon as they came out but she wasn’t going to lose face. Sydney looked shocked but y/n kept her face stoic.

“Talk to him.”

Sydney didn’t respond but y/n knew she wouldn’t talk to Richie.

Y/n felt her blood bubbling, “You could move to fucking Timbuktu and be a chef there and you still wouldn’t rise above average, do you know why?” Y/n didn’t give her a chance to answer.

“It's because you are the problem, you are selfish and you don’t think. You can quit here and never look back and you know what is going to happen next? You're going to find another job and then leave that job and then find another job and leave that one too and keep doing that till you die.” It was getting harder for y/n to breathe. It felt like the walls were closing in.

“I have been gracious enough to give you the space to grow, I told Carmen to make you sous but every second that I take my eyes off either of you, it's like shit hits the fan. Are neither of you capable of doing your jobs?” Y/n was ranting.

“If today was so bad that you have to make someone else's life miserable and then whine about yourself, you shouldn’t even be allowed to work in soup kitchens.” Y/n took a painful deep breath, her head was spinning and she was suppressing the urge to start dry-heaving.

“You will forever be nothing unless you change, you are impatient, selfish, whiny, annoying, vindictive, and…and..” Y/n had to end on a good note or else Sydney might actually quit.

“..capable of doing better. I have seen the way you cook and manage a kitchen when it's not a shit storm. I bet in a few years you're going to make Carmen’s food taste like MREs. You are destined for good things but that will only happen when you grow up.”

Sydney was quiet before she stomped out of y/n’s office and slammed the door shut.

Y/n sank down onto the floor, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. It was as if she had been transported back to New York, constantly juggling her and her co-worker’s workload and assuming the role of the villain. She desperately sought control, but the grip of the panic attack tightened its hold, leaving her feeling vulnerable and exposed. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she fought to regain control over her racing thoughts. It was an exhausting battle, one that felt all too familiar. She grasped at the chair trying to stay up right but after a few moments of dizziness, she slipped to the ground.

She was keenly aware that she couldn't single-handedly orchestrate transformative change in just a few short months but she thought that Carmen would at least learn to step up. She longed for a sense of calm and it burned to know that Carmen was incapable of being that for her now. The knowledge weighed heavily on y/n's heart. The realization that Carmen, the one person she had hoped could offer her some semblance of stability and support because he said he would, was not yet equipped to be that pillar for her. It was a painful acknowledgement, one that underscored the inherent instability that defined their dynamic. Carmen was not stable.

Y/n took a few deep breaths, wiped her tears, and stood up after pushing her sadness and disappointment with Sydney and, more importantly, Carmen in a deep crevice in her mind.

The kitchen had lost two chefs but it was still running smoothly because it was a slow day. Y/n discreetly circled the kitchen, she made a conscious effort to conceal the fact that her blood was boiling, striving to maintain composure amidst the chaos.

And just as she was about to retreat to her office, the man of the fucking hour decided to show up.

“Bad news guys, we have to close for dinner today because we are having a bachelor party in the front.” Y/n looked at a few sips of water, she needed to ground herself and resist throwing the cup of ice water in his face. Carmen glanced up at her and was met with the same eyes from New York, the ones which were glaring at him, disgusted with him, hated him. Y/n walked over to the alley and Carmen followed her even when she didn’t ask.

Y/n indicated that he sat down with a pointed look with her eyes, y/n stayed standing.

“I was hired to be your accountant, but today I was playing babysitter for a bunch of grown fucking adults. Why am I walking around your kitchen and apologising to your fucking staff while you do absolutely nothing.” She took a staggered breath.

"They were goddamn pre-orders, for crying out loud! If they were a little late, it's not like a customer would barge into the fucking kitchen to hang you. You guys have already had a C health rating and got into a fight with some customers a while back, so clearly customer satisfaction isn’t the issue.” The corners of her eyes were turning hazy.

“Why the hell do other people have to clean up your damn mess? How hard would it have been for you to tell Richie to inform the customers that the orders were going to be a bit late?” Carmen didn’t look up, keeping his focus on y/n’s shoes.

“Not fucking difficult at all, its like…like you wanted an excuse to be a prick.”

“Its your fucking entitlement, you are just like Sydney. You are selfish and you will never amount to anything unless you learn to deal with your problems. I mean this in the most blunt and sincere way possible: go to fucking therapy. If money's a problem, I'll foot the bill. I want you to go there and let them throw every damn thing they have at you, from drawing pictures to giving you a fucking lobotomy." Y/n’s face was getting hot and she could feel her forehead burn up.

“You are running a kitchen in a shitty neighborhood with people who would be happy if you served them insulation in between two pieces of drywall, it has never and will never be that serious.” Y/n gave herself some time to breathe before giving him a little bit more.

“You’re the head of the kitchen, you're supposed to be everyone’s support. You have to be…s-stable.” It was difficult for y/n to choke out that word, it hurt too much. “Your team shouldn’t have to walk on fucking eggshells when things get tough.”

“You promised me that you would do better, that is the whole reason I chose to stay. Did you know that I was going to tell you that I changed my mind after I accepted your job offer? I didn’t because you promised you would be better…do better.” Y/n knew there was some stuff she missed but she was exhausted and wanted to go back. She uncrossed her arms and knew that it was time to do some damage control again.

They stayed in silence for a long time before y/n let out a deep sigh, “I'm sorry, it's just… today was a lot when it really didn’t need to be.” Y/n sat down right next to Carmen, she gave him a few inches of space, he still wasn’t looking at her.

Carmen did well with praise y/n recalled, “You are a very talented chef and you are great at organizing a kitchen but that's very different from managing a kitchen with people in it.” A silence passed through them and y/n gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Marcus was completely wrong and I don’t fault you for that. I know I would have done the same thing. What kind of idiot worries about donuts when everyone is asking you about cakes?”

“They were good.” Y/n almost missed it but she was glad she didn’t. That meant that she hadn’t completely broken him.

“I bet they taste even better off the floor.” Y/n chuckled and even if Carmen doesn’t join her, he does pick his head up and look at her. The fact that she was still able to smile after ripping him to shreds was very reminiscent of many people in his life. He knew that she was probably right but he also knew that aspects of her criticism would keep him up at night for years to come

“Was I too much? ” Y/n asked.

“I needed to hear it…” Y/n let them stew in silence.

“You need to find the root of your issues and fix them.” Y/n offered.

“Are we good?” Carmen asked. Y/n was tempted to say yes so that they could move on but she had a feeling that was too easy for him. She worked hard today to be a force of stability and support for everyone and saying yes to Carmen’s question only comforted him. Y/n wanted to be comforted for once.

“No.” Carmen’s face betrayed his shock.

“What can I do to fix it?” Carmen was desperate.

Y/n sighed before closing her eyes. Y/n didn’t respond because she didn’t know how either.

Carmen felt a heat crawling up his chest, a sense of being trapped. He knew he could go back to Sydney, apologize, and promise to change, and they would be good. He knew that if he checked up on Richie, they would be good. He knew that if he swallowed his pride and prepared family dinner today, he would be in good standing with the rest of his team.

But Carmen was starting to realize that he didn’t really know enough about y/n to make this good. Carmen spent a lot of his time overthinking every minute detail of his life but no matter how hard he tried to come up with something to fix this, nothing seemed right. He couldn’t leave because he knew if he did that would be admitting defeat and that would ruin any friendship he earned with y/n but he couldn’t find the right words.

She couldn’t leave Carmen without it killing him. Her words echoed in his head and he tried to find a clue, something that would give him an opening to learn more about her so she wouldn’t leave the restaurant, leave him.

“Why did you hate me? Back in New York.” It was a risk but it felt like his only option. Y/n parted her lips a few times, it was like she was formulating a response that wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need her to comfort him, he needed to comfort her.

“Don’t lie, y/n.”

“I didn’t hate you.” Y/n conceded.

“Don’t bullshit me. The way you looked at me-”. Y/n didn’t know that she was being that obvious.

“You were…I don’t…” Y/n realized she had placed Carmen in an impossible situation by asking him to fix something without providing guidance, as she herself didn't know how to rectify her past mistakes without any guidance.

“I was really unhappy with my job and I thought that if I had someone, if I had you, we could stick together. We used to come and leave work at the same time, we were polite, you seemed like a nice guy. We could have helped each other out, I wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. It was selfish of me to put that pressure on you, I shouldn’t have done that…” That was the diluted version of the story, y/n was willing to take the blame for everything in New York but Carmen didn’t look satisfied, so she continued.

“I used to hand you your paycheck and you never made eye contact. I didn’t even know your eyes were blue until I had been working there for two months.” Carmen locked his eyes on y/n’s.

“I would try to talk to you and you never responded, I didn’t even know what you sounded like. You called me a few months ago and I didn’t even know it was you because you never said a word to me. I used to think that you thought you were too good to talk to me.” Carmen fiddles with his finders and y/n had to tear her eyes away from his hand so she could focus.

“I worked hard for a while to get close to you but you clearly weren’t interested. I took the hint and backed off. The looks were…immature and stupid but I couldn’t help it…I hated my job and you were an easy target. It's easy to hate something you know nothing about.”

“Do you hate me now?” Carmen whispered.

“Not anymore.” Y/n responded softly.

Carmen's shoulders visibly relaxed as he heard Y/n's response. Relief washed over him, mingled with a renewed sense of hope.

Carmen replied, his voice filled with sincerity. "I never wanted you to hate me. I just...you would look at me like that and it was one more reason that convinced me that I wasn’t fucking good enough for that job.”

Y/n had the daunting realization that she was one of the reasons why he left the French Laundry, why he left her. She felt extra guilt for yelling at Carmen for fucking up and being selfish when she did the same thing without knowing it. She blinked back some tears, she needed to hear this, even if it hurt.

“I'm sorry, I was completely-.”

“I used to be scared of you.” Carmen interrupted. Y/n sat up and raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she asked in pure bewilderment.

“It felt like you were leagues ahead of me…it's like comparing an ant to…umm…” Carmen was struggling to spit something out, “divinity.” That made y/n widen her eyes and lean forward.

"I never saw you as beneath me, y/n. You were always on a higher plane, like we lived in different fucking planets." Carmen's voice held a touch of reverence, acknowledging the perceived disparity in their positions.

“You were always so…perfect. I never saw you struggle. Even now, you pick things up fast, people like you, you are great at whatever you do, you never get mad for no reason.”

“People don’t like me and I did get mad for no reason, I just yelled at Sydney before I got to you.”

“We deserved it.”

"It wasn't my place. It's your kitchen, and I shouldn't have gotten involved." Carmen felt sick. She was distancing herself from the kitchen and from him. She was trying to run away and he couldn't let that happen.

“I wouldn’t have anything left if you left.”

“You would have been fine, you would have Sydney.”

“But you…you…belong here. I can’t do this without you.” Carmen felt like she was slipping from his fingers and he was trying to grasp on to any part of her that he could convince to stay.

“Give me a reason to stay, Carmen.” Y/n's whispered with a mixture of longing and uncertainty. She wasn't sure what words were left to be spoken, but she knew she had to say his name. Y/n wanted his name to swirl around her tongue, and imprint the feeling of his name leaving her lips.

Y/n shifted her gaze, positioning herself to face him directly, and her eyes couldn't help but gravitate towards his slightly parted lips. It was clear that he had something to say, and she leaned in, eager to catch every word. In response, Carmen shortened the distance, drawn by the intimate proximity. It felt as if he was about to share a secret with her, a whisper that only they would hear.

With their faces mere inches apart, Carmen's right hand softly landed on the seat beside Y/n's thigh, subtly adjusting their positioning to align their faces. Y/n’s right hand began to rise, caressing his face tenderly. Y/n locked in with his cerulean eyes wondering if she was the only one feeling this. She tested the waters by running her thumb across his lips. They were a bit chapped from biting them all morning.

Feeling the touch of Y/n's thumb on his lips, Carmen's breath caught in his throat. It was a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine.

“We shouldn’t do this.” Y/n mumbled as she leaned in closer.

Without breaking eye contact, Carmen reached up, gently cupping Y/n's face with his hand, his touch conveying tenderness and longing.

WIth a hoarse whisper, Carmen pleaded, “Kiss me, y/n.”

Y/n closed the gap and it was a collision of pent-up passion and aching yearning. Y/n's fingers tangled in Carmen's hair, pulling him even closer. Carmen’s thumb stroked y/n’s jaw and he couldn’t believe how soft her skin was. Their bodies pressed together, feeling the heat and intensity of their shared desire. Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sensation of each other. Every touch, every gentle nip of their lips, fueled the hunger that had been building between them for so long. It was a kiss filled with the weight of unspoken words.

Carmen didn’t want to pull away because he wasn’t sure if he would ever get another kiss, he wanted this one to last. He didn’t want to regret 20 years in the future not kissing for a few moments longer.

Y/n, breathless and in need of a moment to regain composure, pulled away from the kiss. Soft gasps escaped her lips as she tried to steady her racing heart. Carmen, caught in a blissful daze, found himself unable to flutter his eyes open. Carmen remained in a suspended state, savoring the lingering sensation of y/n's touch.

Carmen’s phone buzzed and that wasn’t enough to ground him. He felt like he was floating. If he didn’t move and really focused, he could convince himself that he was still kissing y/n.

He felt y/n’s hand slid up his apron and trail up his leg. Carmen's breath hitched, his senses heightened, as anticipation swirled in the air. He sat still, nervous to do something like this in public but if y/n wanted him to do something he would do it in a heartbeat. He trusted y/n completely, willing to follow her lead without hesitation.

Finally, Y/n's hand reached its destination, and Carmen's pulse quickened. Y/n pulled something out—his phone.

Confusion flickered across his features as he watched Y/n's playful expression. Y/n was teasing him, realizing the momentary tension she had caused. Carmen's anxiety gave way to relief, his lips curving into a smile of his own. He completely forgot about the buzzing so she answered the phone for him and brought it closer to his ear. He took the phone from her hands ensuring that their fingers grazed. It was a small, subtle gesture, yet it held the power to ignite sparks of electricity that danced along his skin.

“Yo, cousin. Where the fuck are you?”

“Why?” Carmen wanted to stay with her for longer but Richie, being a gigantic cockblock, was ruining that for him.

“You're out past your curfew. Why do you think?” Richie remarked sarcastically. “You still have a job, you can't just sit around in an alley like some kind of fucking sewer rat.”

“Richie, I swear to fucking good if the kitchen is fine and you dragged me back there for no reason, im gonna stab your other ass cheek.” Carmen waited till Richie started to talk back before hanging up on him, he was being petty. Carmen saw that y/n tucked her lips to prevent a laugh from escaping.

Carmen sat wordlessly, not wanting to leave just yet. Y/n stood up and Carmen followed her. As they stood face to face, Y/n's hands instinctively brushed his hair back into place, fixing any stray strands. With gentle precision, she smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt sleeves and straightened his apron.

Y/n's finger traced lightly across his lips a few times, and a mischievous smirk fell on her lips. "Your lips are going to be a problem," she teased, a twinkle of amusement in their eyes. Carmen's mind momentarily scattered, unable to fully focus.

"Y/n?" Carmen's voice wavered slightly, his thoughts still clouded by desire.

Y/n, sensing his internal struggle, mustered a playful yet firm resolve. "Go back to the restaurant, I’m still mad at you." she gently nudged him toward the alley exit with an addictive smirk.

Carmen blinked, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the haze of longing.

"But when-" Y/n interrupted, her voice filled with anticipation.

"I'll see you in just a few minutes."

As he busied himself with checking on Richie and apologizing to Sydney, Carmen didn’t miss how y/n slipped inside and walked into the office.

Carmen was still pissed at Richie, who was counting the money in the drawer as they were about to close early to do family dinner.

“Why even bother calling if the place is empty, you dick?” Carmen said in a huff.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you sucking face with your new girlfriend.” Carmen’s jaw went slack.

“Carmy, you're so handsome.” Richie said in a hushed girly tone, mocking y/n’s voice.

“How-” Carmen started.

“You left and y/n left and you both came back within 5 fucking minutes of each other.” Carmen parted his lips trying to form a response.

“You should learn to hide this stuff better. Your lack of girlfriends is catching up to you.”

End Notes:

This is purely experimental so I will most likely not write stuff like this in the future, but if people like it, who knows?

We can delude ourselves into thinking that Carmen would be boyfriend material, but he most definitely isn't. I wanted to write something with an unreliable y/n who complains that Carmen has all these anger issues, is domineering, doesn't listen to people, is controlling, is selfish, is extremely unstable, etc. However, she is exactly the same; she just doesn't realize it.

At the end of the day, Carmen meshes well with people who are similar to him, which is why he is close with Sydney and sometimes Richie (their shared love of Michael and The Beef). I wanted to write something where he pursues someone who has similar flaws as him. I guess it's up to you guys to figure out if it's the start of personal growth on both ends or if it's a doomed romance.

Part 2

2K notes · View notes

citrusbatsandhoneybees · 4 months

Text

Like What You See?

Lucifer X Fem! Pornstar! Reader SMUT

A/N: God I'm finally done with this! I've been so excited to share this! Hadddd to try to write my own getting caught fic after reading and getting inspired by @heart-of-the-morningstar's Behind (Not So) Closed Doors fic, (If you haven't read it obviously go read it right now) and maybe I've got another idea for another one. Tehee~ I LOVED writing this, and I hope you like it!

Synopsis: Reader used to be a pornstar, and Lucifer gets caught watching one of your films.

Content Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Heavy Smut, mentions of porn, masturbation, voyeurism, teasing, edging, oral (m receiving) and fingering.

Word Count: 7K

Divider Source: cafekitsune

You used to be an actor for Valentino. You quite enjoyed doing those long films, and they started to gain a lot of traction. However, after a while, Valentino had tried pushing you towards doing shorter films that didn’t have any plot outside of the erotic parts, and you refused, effectively showing him that you no longer had any worth to him. When you first arrived Hazbin Hotel you were quite literally at your lowest; losing your only job since arriving in Hell and having been kicked to the curb. However, since getting there it has done nothing but good for you. You have gained a new home, safety, and a small community to be a part of, so you’ve done everything you could to be helpful to its’ cause.

Quickly Lucifer had caught sight of this, and you were able to form a valuable comradery between the two of you in your efforts to help Charlie. Almost instantly the two of you clicked, from being able to share similar senses of humor and a mutual hate towards Alastor the bond you formed made the two of you stronger. However, you never really spoke of your past with the King of Hell. You were scared that it may put him off, or disgust him, and he would no longer want to be friends with you. You knew how he used to feel for sinners, and you didn’t want to give him any reason to hate you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You and Charlie were up early that morning making breakfast together for the other residents of the hotel. Cheerful music played and flowed through out the kitchen as the two of you hummed and worked at a steady rhythm together filling the area with an aroma of sweet, fluffy pancakes and scrambled, seasoned eggs. A small smile formed on your face as you looked towards the princess who was hard at work.

“Do you think we should make some bacon too?”

Charlie’s warm humming finished, and her long blonde hair flipped to the side, as she turned to look back and answer you.

“OOooh! If you’re finished that would be great!”

With a small nod, you made sure to push all of the yellow fluffy eggs to separate dish as you worked on placing the strips onto the hot pan. The meat sizzled and popped within the grease that pooled below. By the time the food was officially cooked, a few of the others had joined the two of you in the kitchen, and started to make their own plates, eating happily at the dining table and island that the vibrant room held. For the others that hadn’t arrived, like Husk and Lucifer, you joined the princess in setting nice trays to bring up to their other rooms. Then for a final touch you placed a small glass vase on each of the trays with a small set of flowers that Charlie had brought inside. Abruptly, after the two of you finished, a rush of dark green smoke enclosed the trays, and pulled them away to the doors of the respective residents.

After feeling the chilling magic send the food away, you glance over to Alastor who gave you a bone-rattling grin and turned back away to eat your own breakfast with your friends. You decided to take a seat next to your old work friend, who sent you a much warmer smile, and settled your fingers around some silverware to pick up bites of the pancakes you helped make.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

While everyone was eating together Lucifer was hard at work in his workshop putting together a specialized, custom rubber duck. He had spent several days on this, creating different prototypes, but never was fully satisfied with the result. He wanted, no needed, for this one to be perfect so that he could present it to you. Maybe then he could have some confidence to finally ask you out. He had been tiptoeing around the idea for a while now, but it never seemed like the right moment for him. Of course, he worried that you would reject him, how couldn’t he be?

While he continued his tinkering the king turned on some background noise to accompany him. Lucifer wouldn't normally watch or enjoy television because he believes it scrambles the brain, but during his stay at the hotel he has astutely learned that using current technology is a sure-fire way to piss off the radio demon, so naturally he invested in one for his room. He was grateful for it too because it was able to help him tune out any wandering thoughts, totally not about you, that normally invaded his mind during the noiseless hours.

Quiet clicks sounded from underneath his hand as he screwed together a small piece to place inside of the little rubber gift, but before he could finish with the piece Lucifer whipped his head around to the abrupt sound of knocks that resonated throughout his room.

“Char Char?”

He called towards the door but didn’t get an answer. The blonde groaned lightly as he stood from his work bench and stretched out, rolling away the strain his muscles had from his sitting position. Satisfied after a few stretches, he started his trek towards the door. Lucifer barely noticed, but the television shifted to another movie after the previous finished as he walked past. Once he placed his hand on his golden doorknob, he turned it to open and revealed a mahogany tray with a couple plates full of a nutritious breakfast, a tall glass of apple juice, and a small glass vase with a set of orchids. Then next to it was a small bottle of golden syrup and a folded note. On the note was a wish good morning with small hearts drawn to it, in your handwriting. A small smile painted its way across his face as he looked over the tray. Slowly Lucifer bent over to grab the little slip of paper, and traced his thumb over the ink as he stood back up. She's so sweet. His heart warmed as he looked it over and reignited his motivation to finish his small gift.

Inspired to get back to work, Lucifer was quick to bend over once again and pick up the tray you and Charlie set up for him, however he was interrupted by the echo of a familiar voice. Before he could identify who it was, he turned his head to look through the hallway, to no avail. Then he heard it again, a little clearer now, he recognized that it was coming from behind him, and Lucifer turned back towards his room. Calling towards the room, he searched for the source and soon inferred that it was your own. Leaving the door to close behind him, he turned his head towards the large television that stood over a grand dresser, and soon his jaw dropped. On the screen held an image of you in elegant clothing, arguing with some other sinner that you were with. He froze, mouth remaining slack, and eyes widened as he watched the film. The script seemed quite cheesy and dramatic, but he had never seen you like this, and he especially didn’t know that you had been involved in recording a film, and a lead at that. Once the initial surprise weared away, he took a few steps away towards a bed that stood across the television and sat, watching the movie closely.

He remained entranced and engaged with the film as it continued. Lucifer was mesmerized with your acting as your character involved herself in more and more romantic activities with the character that filled the role of being your “love interest”. He couldn’t believe or understand why you had held this away from him. You were good, really good. Lucifer continued to watch as the two main characters were put in a room together, only to realize that there was only one bed to share. He chuckled lightly to himself at the predictable nature of it all as he leaned his head against his hand. However, after a few more moments, he wasn’t able to keep such a comfortable position. The scene had quickly shifted towards something more pornographic. His eyes widened once again, and he roughly wrapped his hand around his mouth as loud moans flooded past your lips from the love interest’s touch.

He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised that the film had took this turn, it was hell after all, but his body tensed as he watched your hands wander down the other actor’s chest and before he could stop it, rapidly his own mind wandered on and imagined how your touch would feel on himself.

“Shit shit shit…”

Logic told him that he shouldn’t watch any further, especially since you hadn’t even told him about this, and he was about to leap towards the remote until he saw the camera zoomed in towards you and your passionate touch, causing only more torture for the poor devil. His face flushed, and it wasn’t too long until his hardened arousal started to pull his attention towards it. He felt small twitches under his boxers after every exaggerated moan that the speakers poured out, and soon he felt the absent-minded need to buck his hips for any friction that he could get.

“Fuckkkkk..”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You remained content in the kitchen, sitting close to your friends, and slowly eating the food off your plate as you made small conversation. You laughed lightly as you watched Angel continue to tease another sinner from across the table throughout the meal, and after you finished the last few bites of your fluffy eggs you took the opportunity to help Charlie. Taking your dishes and a few plates from the others that had finished before you, you made your way across the kitchen to the large steel sink. You easily rinsed off any of the remains that were left behind, before filling the vessel with hot soapy water and starting your task of scrubbing away anything that you may have missed.

The princess was quick to take her place next to you, grabbing a small towel, drying off the ceramics, and putting them away. It was a successful meal that the two of you started together and now cleaning away together. Soon some of the others brought over their plates and left the kitchen after giving the two of you a thanks. Then, Angel Dust was the last one to walk over.

“Thanks toots, delicious as always.”

You gave the spider demon a smile and a nod as you continue scrubbing with the yellow sponge, not expecting anything more out of the conversation.

“Short king never came down, disappointed?”

Of course. He nudged you with his elbow as small flush ran across your face. The actor never hesitated to tease you about your relationship with Lucifer; you rolled your eyes towards the demon, and lightly gestured towards the princess as you looked back at him. Hoping the knowledge of her being there would shut him up.

“What are you trying to say?”

Angel Dust looked you up and down and raised his brows in response with a smug smirk laid across his face. He hummed lightly, waiting patiently as Charlie finally took a few steps away to put away some of the dishes she had dried.

“You should go up there, finally make a move toots.. Alone~”

This again? A small scoff escaped you, and you turned your head to look over to the spider as you set a clean cup to the side. You caught sight of his wiggling eyebrows and let out a small laugh.

“Angel, you know I won’t”

He shook his head and rested one of his hands on his hip. He was getting tired of this song and dance between the two of you.

“And why not?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him before you returned to your task, explaining your reasoning once again.

“First off, I don’t think he feels that way.”

Before Angel could interrupt you, you speak a little louder and look back at him as you continue.

“Second! I don’t know if he would like me if he knew what I used to do. What if he finds out and he’s disgusted?”

A light laugh runs out of the actor, and he rests one of his elbows onto your shoulder as he leans down against you.

“Sweet cheeks you were hot in those films, 10/10, if he saw them, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.”

Before you could respond, Charlie spoke up brightly from behind you. You didn’t even realize she was back to dry more dishes.

“Whatcha guys talking about?”

You whipped your head around to respond frantically, but the arachnid beat you to it.

“Oh, I was just tellin her she should go check on your dad.”

You wanted to send the spider demon a glare, but Charlie looked over to you with a glittering grin.

“Oh, that’s a great idea! He’s probably working on something, and you know how he can get tunnel visioned when he works on something!”

Charlie giggles lightly thinking over her father’s small quirk, as she looks over to you.

“I don’t want to leave you to clean everything Charlie.”

You retorted, trying to escape the spider demon’s incessant setup. You wouldn’t hear the end of it if you went up there.

“Oh, don’t worry toots, I can help her!”

Charlie looked over to Angel with practically sparkling eyes, and then back to you insisting that you should go. Heavy drops of frustration started to fill you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to back out.

“Okay! but I’ll be back with his dishes, okay?”

You gave the two of them a reminder of the tray that you helped set up for him this morning and stepped away to dry off your hands. You shoved the wet sponge towards your old work friend and started to walk out of the kitchen. Your last view of the two in the kitchen was Charlie back to being hard at work, and Angel Dust using two of his limbs to make an erotic gesture, and one other to make a phone next to his ear. You flipped him off as you made your way out and started your trek to the elevator.

As you arrived at his floor, you stepped through the engraved elevator doors, and walked towards his suite at the other end of the hall. It wasn’t too long before you were in front of his door. The mahogany tray was still there, left abandoned and now cold to your dismay. You worried over Lucifer. Had he really been that distracted with his project to not answer his door? You just hoped that was the issue, and he wasn’t spiraling again. You started to speak as you twisted the gold encrusted doorknob open.

“Lucifer! You missed your breakfast, are yo-?”

As you slipped the door open, a mixture of moans started to pour past the large crack. You froze until you had heard a recorded line.

“YY-yeah useee mee~”

Is that?? Your heart started to rapidly pound against your chest as you realized that Lucifer could have been watching a rerun of one of your films. Shame pulled your heart strings. You pushed open the door, tray still in hand, and words were ready to fumble past your lips to try to explain yourself. A small click sounded behind you as the door shut behind you, and your jaw dropped at the sight. You looked towards the television to reaffirm your thoughts, then back at Lucifer. Fuck he's gorgeous. He laid against his mattress unabashedly pumping his member, as his head leaned against his headboard. The pretty sight caused a strong heat to swiftly pool within you, and your thighs quivered with anticipation. You felt a strong fiery magnetic pull force you to take a step towards further, and before you even realized the heavy tray you held had tipped forward in your lack of attention towards it.

—--------------------------

Before you even arrived at his door, Lucifer groaned down at his predicament, and looked back towards the screen to see a large image of your cheek pressed against the others sinner’s cock. His eyes bulged at the sight, and his body grew more desperate for relief. His teeth clamped down onto his bottom lip as he worked through the choice whether or not to relieve himself or not, and quickly decided to go against his better judgment for it. The blonde huffs, pushing his pants and boxers down and away to quickly rid himself of this issue. Lucifer revealed his desperate standing member, that already had started leaking precum running down his length, leaving it slick and ravenous for friction.

He grunted as he felt the cool air against him and wrapped his hand around it. Lucifer started slow strokes up and down the whole of his length. His head leaned back, hitting the top of his headboard, as he continued the slow pace. Lewd noises from the film flooded his ears, as his mind ran through images of you: your tongue running up the side of cock, wrapping your pretty lips around him, and taking him fully down your throat as you did on the screen in front of him. Then to other images: pushing himself deep inside of you, making you scream his name, and screaming your own in return. Eventually low groans started to leave his throat as he started to quicken his pace, and his eyes fell shut. As Lucifer started to rapidly rush down the course of an orgasm, his free hand gripped the sheets next to him, and low repeated whimpers of your name slid off his lips like a prayer.

Just as he found himself on the edge, a loud crash and shatter reverberated around his room. Panic rushed his veins, as he abruptly ripped his hand away from his length to hastily jerk up a blanket up and across his body. Lucifer then looked towards the source of his interruption and saw you. Shame, overwhelming shame, filled him as he saw you. What was he thinking!? There was no hiding the humiliation he felt. You stood just inside of his door, breakfast tray slightly tipped forward and your eyes rapidly switched between him and the television on his wall. Lucifer worried that you would scream at him, and rid your relationship with him all together, but instead the quick realization of the mess you had created had you setting the tray down. He watched in shock as you got on your knees to attempt to clean the spilled apple juice, and shattered vase. As you were about to grab the first piece of glass, he snapped his fingers, poofing any of the messy evidence away. You looked back up at him and watched him as countless apologies started to fumble its way out of his throat.

His glossy eyes stared over to you as you approach his bed to sit on the edge, feeling the overwhelming warmth cover your face as you look over towards him.

“I- it’s okay… I mean that’s what it’s for.”

Slightly unsure of yourself, you crawl a little closer to the man, and he backs up until his back hits flush against his headboard. Lucifer remained ashamed of his actions but grew slightly confused as he watched you get closer, getting more aroused by your actions. You stopped crawling, your weight now falling onto your knees once you were close, sitting in front of him.

“And you’re not grossed out?”

“What? No?”

You asked as you looked over to him, with worrisome eyes, and Lucifer looked back at you with concern and a large bundle of confusion. He shook his head feverishly and waved his hands. Why would he be grossed out? You should be the one that was repulsed by him. He yearned to move forward and comfort you but stayed like stone in his spot, as to not make you uncomfortable. His answer was enough to push away some of your insecurities as you continued.

“Is that what you want?”

You gestured towards the screen that continued to play, now on a scene of you riding the love interest of the film. Lucifer gulped slightly as his eyes turned back to the television, feeling his cock sinfully twitch once again in anticipation from the film. Then he turned his head back to you, who stared back at him wantonly.

“N-not exactly…”

Were you assuming wrong?? A small panic raced through you, and stuttered your actions, but allowed him to continue. He saw the panic in your eyes. Realizing his fuck up, he continued to fumble through his stuttered words.

“Wait! No, no no no n-no! What I mean is.. I.. I want you.. I need you.”

He emphasized his last words as he leaned forward towards you. Your own heart stutters from his statement and pushed your thighs together slightly as you allowed your hand to move up and brush off some of the sweat that collected across his brow. Then you gently held his face, tracing his cheek with your thumb as you met his softened eyes with your own.

“I need you too.”

His lip trembled slightly from your words, and he pushed himself forward off his hands. Then a small smile pulled at your lips, as you met him in the middle to press your soft lips against his. Your heart continued to pound hard against your chest as your lips met. Feeling the euphoria of finally being in the moment you wished for so long. The first kiss was gentle and slow, as you continued to trace gentle circles across his cheek. Lucifer chased after your touch for a moment as you pulled away to look at him, and he looked into your eyes. His own woozy smile graced his blushed face after the shared high of your first kiss and after you laughed lightly at his expression. Once you pushed away the pieces of blonde hair that had fallen out of place, you moved forward to kiss him once again.

Soon your lips pressed further against his, and the pace picked up to a more feverish one. Taking initiative, you opened your mouth a little to allow passage for your tongue to brush against his bottom lip. He almost too hastily opened his mouth to match yours and you started to massage your tongue against his skinnier split one. He melts further into your touch, proving himself to be like puddy in your hands. A smirk spreads across your face as an idea hits you, and with a slow hand you place your fingers onto the edge of the blanket he hastily threw over himself to bring it down. Lucifer pulled his face away from yours, and his breath broke into heavy, hot pants as he wipes away the saliva that connected the two of you.

“Y-you don’t have to!”

Lucifer stares into your eyes, worried that the two of you were advancing further than you were more comfortable with. You bit your bottom lip, grateful for his kindness, as you reassure him.

“I want to help you finish your movie, Luci. Would you like that?”

Your voice carried a seductive edge, and Lucifer swallowed hard while nodding eagerly in response. With a small giggle, you returned to slowly removing the blanket from him. He clenches the sheets beside him in anticipation and bites his lip down hard. The ravenous look you held had him feeling desperate for your touch. As you finally pulled the covering past his waist, you got an up-close view of his hardened arousal. It stood tall, leaning against his stomach, practically quivering, anxious for more. You quickly threw the cover away as you stared down at the sight. The pure white member was slick with large amounts of his precum, and the head’s color was a pretty pink contrasting from the rest of him. Pushing past the thoughts of pouncing on him right there, you looked back up at him as you tugged his shirt lightly. He helped your efforts and practically ripped off his shirt as you pulled his pants past his hooves to leave them abandoned on the ground away from you.

Breathlessly you looked his body over, admiring his pale white skin that was warm to the touch. He truly was Heaven’s prettiest angel.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Your hand traced his chest and stomach as you whispered. He picked up on your compliment and if he could blush more, he felt it. Lucifer watched you as you looked back towards the film, and realized you were just on time for the next scene. Your lips pulled to a tight-lined smirk as you moved to sit on your knees to his side, and he looked over to you slightly confused.

“If you need me to stop, tell me, okay?”

Lucifer nodded towards you at your request, but the king hadn’t completely comprehended what you had suggested earlier, not quite understanding why you were at his side now. Amused, you laugh lightly and grasp his chin to lead his sight back towards the screen. Leaning in close, he felt your hot breath against the shell of his ear.

“The movie, pretty boy.”

You cooed, and he quickly put the points together. Realizing the teasing he was probably about to endure he bit back a whimper and stared back at the screen. The television displayed an exaggerated scene. The camera zoomed in showing only you as you started to grind against the other actor. Your moans streamed out the speakers, helping you overwhelm his senses. His cock twitched against his stomach, and luckily for him your hand gently wrapped around him. Lucifer felt a fleeting sense of relief as you touched him, and you started to press small pecks against the lid of his ear. You prompted leisurely pumping him at a slow pace, aiming to pull any pleasure out of him you could, as you continued your sweet affection across his ear and down his neck. Continuous translucent pearls ran past his slit, sliding down his head. A grin grew across your face at the sight, as you rubbed the slick precum up and down his member.

It was pure torture for him to only watch this fake version of you, and agony to keep his hands to his side. You continued your cruel pace up and down, and Lucifer writhed and moaned from your strokes. You eagerly continued to fulfill your incessant need to pull more of these precious sounds, and luckily for him you allowed his hip movements, but you kept stopping those in mind for the future. Lucifer started to plead between his desperate gasps and moans.

“Please.. p-please faster.”

You obliged and picked up the pace to keep a quick momentum. Your small pecks changed to more exchanges between open mouths kisses and small bites against his chin and neck. His own breath picked up and grew more ragged as he clenched his eyes, focusing on the waves of pleasure. Noticing this, you lectured him with a teasing tone.

“Ah. Ah… Luciii~ the movie?”

Lucifer whimpered, and obediently forced his eyes open to watch the film. His jaw fell, and remained open as continuous moans left his throat. His legs quivered, and his hips bucked up into your grasp as he felt a tight thread start to rapidly coil within him.

“Fuck FUUuck, Yes! I- I’m gonna-!”

As Lucifer started to rolling towards the edge, you ripped your hand away from his member. A loud whine escaped from him as he continued rutting his hips up searching for the friction that was taken away from him. Before he could complain, you explained your cruel punishment.

“You’re not even close to the end yet Lu~.”

He turned his head to look back at you. Lucifer had been pulled away from two orgasms now. Sweat soaked his skin, his cheeks flushed, and drool colored with a hint of golden blood ran past his lips leaving a glimmering line down his chin. His desperate expression forced a tingling heat started to pool within you, and you felt your own panties slick beneath you from your arousal.

“Can’t you at least finish this scene for me?”

Lucifer hesitantly agreed, nodding toward you and reluctantly turned his eyes back towards the film. His body tensed lightly as he prepared himself for what was next. A mischievous grin twisted your lips upwards, as you wrapped your fingers around him once again. You returned to the pace that you left off with, and he choked back his breath from the brutal swift pace. He begged out to you, whimpering out your name as he writhed under your touch. Ironically, he wanted to pray for release.

“What…? I thought you wanted me to go fast Luci~?”

The next few minutes felt like hours, as the scene continued on. It was truly addicting for you watching the painful pleasure you brought him with simple strokes, feeling your own body slick and wanting for more.

Lucifer never asked you to stop, so you edged him on and on, pulling away if you needed to keep him from releasing until you recognized that the pornographic scene was close to the finish. Enthusiastically, you prepared yourself to finally fulfill his wish. Keeping your strokes steady, he watched with surprise as you moved your place back in front of the man and gave him a warm smile as you leaned forward to lick his weeping head. The new sensation had Lucifer’s head reeling as he absent-mindedly bucked his hips forward. As you continued, you hallowed your cheeks, and wrapped your perfect wet lips around him, taking him fully down your throat. Lucifer practically saw stars as his cock was engulfed down your throat. Your eyes gazed up at him, as you practiced your skill, tracing your tongue up and down the side of him as you pushed your head up and down at a steady pace.

“S-so so so perfect.. F-feels soo good!"

Lucifer’s eyes stayed fixated on you as you used your freehand to lead his own to your hair. He eagerly took the opportunity and wrapped his fingers through your hair pulling it as softly as he could in his predicament. Quickly the familiar feeling of the thread coil tightens, and you were able to understand him instantly as he pleaded with you once again. Though this time, you gave him your acceptance with a small nod, and not a second later he was seeing stars.

“Ahhh fuck! Th-thank thank you thank you!”

His glazed over eyes clamped and he clenched his teeth as his head hit his headboard. Lucifer felt his mind stop as shockwaves of rippling pleasure ripped its way through him. His body jerked up from underneath you, and you kept your lips wrapped tightly around the tip as you gave him slow strokes to help him through his orgasm. You swallowed the thick spurts of his seed that leapt out of him, making sure to collect everything before you pull yourself off of him. He watched eagerly as you licked your lips and took in the addicting sweet taste of his angelic cum. Wiping away any of the left-over fluid across your chin, you made your way over back to his side and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek. You cooed, whispering sweet things into his ear, as you held his hand, and rubbing your thumb gently over his knuckles.

Once he was finally able to form a full thought, a wobbly smile formed across his face as he leaned his weight onto you. He took in a deep breath before pulling your knuckles to his lips to place a gentle kiss to the surface. A small sigh escaped from you from his soft touch, and you looked over to view his tiresome glow. After a few moments, a light tug of concern pulled at your heart, as you worried about the small possibility that you may have gone too far for a first time.

“It wasn’t too much was it?”

He rigorously shook his head before he turned his body fully to look into your eyes.

“No… no! you were perfect hun.”

You matched his gaze, and the tender affection that radiated off his expression gripped your heart. He traced gentle shapes on your knee and moved forward to press his lips lovingly against yours. His warm fingers weaved through your hair and held you close. You felt his lips turn up against yours, and he pulled himself flush against your chest as your arms naturally wrapped around his neck. Lucifer pulled himself away before leaning his damp forehead against yours. As the two of you remained in your place, a silent peace fell on you. He was the first to break it with a hesitant whisper.

“I love you..”

You picked up your hand from around his neck to trail through his hair as you reciprocated his words.

“I love you too.”

You could feel you heart thumping in her chest, as the two of you meet together in the middle. Warmth flowed between them during this gentle, slow moment, and Lucifer achingly dragged his claws down the bottom of your thighs until he was able to hook his hands under your knees. With his hands anchored in your legs he pulled you up until you sat on his lap. Instinctively your legs wrapped around his waist and Lucifer’s lips pulled away only just enough from you to share his shaky hot breath.

“Please, let me make you feel good too.”

The blooming heat within you was fertilized with his words, and you agreed to his request with a low whisper, and he gratefully took this opportunity using your position to lift you and lay you against the cool sheets. A light gasp escaped you as he brushed your hair out of the way and traced his lips down the side of your neck. Once he reached the crook of it, he grazed his teeth against it, receiving a delightful shiver from you. His lips turn up against your skin, and his tongue moves past to roll over your sensitive skin as he moves one of his hands from your thigh to bunch your shirt up past your chest. Your breath hitches as his hot black claws tenderly trails from your navel up to your chest to cup and fondle your breasts. Mindlessly your head pushes back against the plush pillow, and heavy gasps pour out of you as he starts to circle of areola, and gently roll your nipple between his forefinger and thumb sending shockwaves to your abdomen. Lucifer readily moves down to be between your breasts and continues his nipping slowly down towards your navel, pushing your pants and damp underwear down during the process. As his attempts to remove your clothing gets blocked by himself between you, he sits back and is able to get a full view of your sensual state. His mind reels at the sight. Your eyes were half-lidded, holding a hungry expression, and your mouth hung open just enough to allow heated pants to run past your lips as you stared over at him. Slowly small marks started to show, decorating your skin from his previous nipping. Your arms laid at your side after being taken away from his neck as he laid back, waiting to return to their earlier position.

“So.. beautiful...”

He muttered under his breath as he pushes the clothing past your legs to throw off beside him and sinks down to his spot between your legs. You watch him plop down between your thighs, and suddenly the sound of his breath hitching runs to your ears as he examines the hot, soaked, slit that laid there. As he continued leaving feather-light kisses on your inner thighs, you feel the soft circles Lucifer draws around the sensitive core that had your deep entrance clenching for more. Your hand made their way to his blonde hair and his eyes remained straight on you, entranced by the small sounds that slipped from your throat and the view of your glistening cunt, as he riled you further. As one of his prolonged circles ended at the bottom of your entrance, your breath gets ripped from your lungs as he plunges one of his fingers deep inside you. Lucifer had to steady his foggy brain after feeling you: hot, soaked, tight, and pulsing around him. The blonde thought that he could practically cum right there just from the feeling of you. Slowly he starts to make a consistent pace, thrusting his finger in and out, and in and out of you all while curling it upwards to pull the most pleasure from you. Your head tipped back, and your toes curled as the heavenly drag of the tip of his finger, reached in places your own couldn’t, and sent your shockwaves to your core. He adored this; Lucifer wanted nothing but to please you, to treat you like the goddess he felt you were. It wasn’t too long until moans and praises pleaded for more.

“Sh-shit Luci.. So.. good for me..”

His eyes glimmered from the praise, as he stared up at you from your slit, deeply into your eyes as he continued, making sure to study your reaction to find what exactly made you feel absolutely and utterly blissful. Not even a moment later his lips parted allowing his tongue slip through, and he made quick work to flick it up across your pleading clit. The sudden wet attention had your hips bucking from underneath him, against his face and hand. Sonorous moans continuously gushed out of you. He excitedly continued his attention inside you, as he started to suck the sensitive bud intently as he continued to flick his tongue up it at the same pace of his finger. Your tight grasp started to pull at his scalp, and hot white pleasure overwhelmed your mind, as you arched your back up off the bed. Lucifer pleaded with pent-up whine came from between your legs as you tugged his hair. Then soon a skinny scaly tendril wrapped around one of your thighs joining his other hand to pull it back as Lucifer plunged another finger with the other, causing the tight thread that started it’s endless knotting within you threatening to split.

“F-Fuck Love I’m gonna-!”

Your toes curl at the feeling and your melodic warnings of the impending results of his touch graced his ears. Lucifer was unrelenting, continuing this pace as he aimed to tip you over that edge. A few seconds later you felt the thread snap, causing your legs to tremble under his touch, and your back arched further up from the bed. Harmonious whines and moans flooded out of you as trails hot fire overtook your mind and body while you released from underneath him. Lucifer calmed the pace of his fingers down, and watched, mesmerized by you and your walls pulling his fingers further as he helped you ride out your orgasm. As the arch of your back relaxed, and your breathing steadied, he slowly slipped his fingers out of your tight grip.

“Sooo gorgeous hun, and so…”

He spoke lowly as Lucifer moved up to face you and positioned his hips back in between your soft thighs. Slowly his fingers were placed to the surface of his lips, pushing past, as he made a show of sucking the slick that coated him. A heavy breath fell to your ears as he allows the fingers to leave his mouth and used his tongue to lick his fingers frivolously. A smirk paints his expression as your eyes met his once again.

“... delicious..”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him as you see his face. You admired his expression as you saw his chin glisten with your slick and saliva and his half-lidded eyes looked towards you like you were the sweetest dessert he had ever tasted. A whisper of a laugh falls out of you between heavy breaths, as your arms wrapped tightly around the back of his neck, and the tips of your fingers raked through his blonde locks.

Delicately, he held your cheek to lean forward and give you another honey-sweet kiss. For a while it remained as tender and sugary as it started. His lips parted to massage his tongue against yours, and you could taste a faint hint of his blood and you spread across it. You would live in this fleeting moment of connection forever if it hadn't been for the damned need to take a breath. As the contact between the two of you was split, Lucifer could feel your heated breaths against his cheeks. The two of you cherished each other's comfort as you pressed your foreheads against each other once again. A soft smile graced his lips as he savored being with you and held you close.

It wasn’t long till the blonde started to feel the natural need to have you closer. Then he pulled you up against him; your legs instinctively wrapped their way around his hips again. However, your breath picked up as you felt his newly, almost forgotten, arousal against your core, and watched as a guttural groan sneaked its way past his clenched teeth. You looked over to him and whispered to open his now clamped eyes.

“Luci...”

His eyes flickered back to yours as you spoke and felt as his breath hitches at the sight. He looked towards you lovingly; You practically glowed beneath him. Your own breath was bated, and your eyes brimmed with an emotional passion, and fervor. You may have been in an intimate position, but this was so much more than the film he was watching before, and he was relishing having you.

All of you with him.

“Fuck me Love…”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bonus Scene:

Angel Dust continued cleaning the resident’s dishes and took over drying them as the princess moved on to round up the other sinners for an exercise. Then the engraved kitchen doors creaked open with a groan. He didn’t question it too much as he saw the feline bartender stepped in and brought the now only half-empty tray to the sink. A simple clink sounded besides the arachnid as the tray was set against the counter, and Angel looked towards Husk with a raised eyebrow.

“Not hungry or what?”

Husk looked back to him after he strolled towards the coffee machine and rubbed his temple, trying to will away a migraine that started to form.

“No, those two are finally fucking.”

He could hear the creaking and moaning through the floors. Angel Dust’s jaw dropped as he set his rag and plate down, and the corners of his lips curved devilishly.

“Hell yeah finally! That’s all me baby! I did that! Pay the fuck up!”

Husk grumbled with a small roll of the eyes, and turned back to him after he poured the black steaming liquid into his mud. The pornstar looked back to him with his hand outstretched and a smug grin that revealed his shining golden tooth, but despite Husk’s small frustrations he handed over the twenty that Angel was looking for.

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a/n: Haha poor Husk, anyway, hope you enjoyed! <333

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #fanfiction #fem reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer smut #hazbin hotel fanart

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easy-there-leftovers · 1 year

Text

I See You, Darling (3)

[Astarion x reader] As I mentioned in a previous post, this came along surprisingly easier than the last one. The same can’t be said about the quality though maybe– sorry for that. :,DDD|Word count: 2.6k.|

Content Warnings: Mentions of cooking, handling knives, blood, one sex joke (lol), the normal warnings that you’d associate with the game

Part 2 here!!

Next Part here!!

As an outsider to most of everyone’s problems, you find your place by helping in whatever way you can. Even if that may be at the expense of your own comfort, but at least it’s been fun so far.

Alternatively: Reader can't catch a break from anything, can they?

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Being resident camp caretaker was surprising, for lack of a better term. You were away from the stresses of technology, corporate assholes, and disappointing family with your choice to pursue unpractical careers. Instead living the “cottagecore lifestyle” of foraging for food and cooking with a cauldron that those from the digital world claimed to be the best. What they failed to mention were the incessant pests coming in to nibble through rucksacks if you were not careful, and the occasional swarms of ants or flies coming in to nip at your flesh.

The experience was a mixed bag, so it would seem. But the tired smiles that the group would give you when you greet them with a warm and filling meal was always a comfort that you would have.

And it would seem they needed it now more especially than ever.

Your band of misfits planned to venture out and defeat the goblins at their camp in order to aid the tieflings’ journey to Baulder’s Gate. Per your instruction, you convinced the more solipsistic members of the benefits of eradicating the sect. Namely, they wouldn’t hinder you as much in the future if they were taken care of. Hence your plan to slightly increase the amount of portions for supper tonight.

By twilight, you had a good broth steeping in your cauldron. The camp having returned just a few moments prior from an earlier excursion. You were making a pottage that the others have expressed their enjoyment for. A stew of sorts that you had made when you had quite the number of items that would have spoiled before consumption had you not done anything about it. A mixture of fruits and meat, stewed in a consomme of a pig’s head and various mushroom caps.

This time around, you’ll be using fresher ingredients to hopefully lift their spirits.

As you’re chopping up fruits, you think about all that’s happened to you and possible explanations for why your character suddenly ceased to exist in order to make room for you. What’s more is that no matter how many nights pass, you never end up waking from your dream. Which you fear is lasting longer than your usual ones.

Your working theory is that whatever force, be it magic or fate, tethering you to this world is also responsible for removing Tav. Astarion claimed that he couldn’t remember the finer details when you had confronted him. And so you settled with that hypothesis. That like how a thread that unravels opens a seam in a garment, a new thread must be used to darn the cloth together again.

You laugh at the disgustingly poetic analogy you created in your head. You fear that you’re becoming more and more deranged as—

“My, aren’t you busy?” The intrusive voice causes the knife to slip out of your hand a bit, thankfully only cutting off a portion of your index finger’s nail. Your shoulders, that were raised in alarm, release their tension after feeling the sudden chill leave your body.

“Astarion,” Exasperated, you put the knife down on the cutting board to catch your breath for a while.

“I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped sneaking up on me when I’m doing something dangerous.”

The high-elf offers a mischievous smile in response. “Very sorry, pet. But it’s hardly my fault when you’ve barely been paying attention to me.” There’s regret in his words, but not in his tone.

Because while perhaps it’s an odd interest, he enjoys hearing the quickened pace of your heart. The pulse getting louder, as it stays that way for longer.

“I’d feel sorry for doing so if you were too, but you’re not.”

You laugh out, breath still shaky but steadying slowly, as you pick up your knife again.

“I heard you’re part of the encampment that’s finishing off the goblins by midmorn.” Chopping the rest of the fruits, you feel his presence move from behind you to off to your side so you can see him from your peripherals.

“Hm? Yes. Although I would have preferred if we didn’t do this at all. It’s too much work, and the goblins could be entertaining! Killing useful spoils seems like an awful waste.”

This must be the reason why he approached you, to persuade you to call off the hunt. And his unfading smile supports that thought. When you voice said thought, it earns you a playful scoff.

“Don’t you have anything else on your mind other than the parasite lounging in it?”

The mood is light as you say this, the banter welcomed by you both.

And as you continue to converse, a few eyes begin to follow the two of you. They’ve never really seen Astarion interact with you for this long, at least not away from your private spaces. And even less without hushed voices. The interlocution is definitely a welcome spectacle to them.

“On my honor, the only thing on my mind is depraved, carnal lust.” He says, proudly. Gesturing to himself with one hand, and the other held high like he was swearing an oath.

Your closed mouth drops into frown, eyes wide, and your eyebrows skew upwards. A very undignified, but small, squeak coming from the back of your throat. You swore you heard someone groan in disappointment from far away too.

You know full well that the look of shock that you were sporting was by no means attractive, but the flagrant revelation, though not at all out of character, was shocking to have directed towards you. You’ve been trying to romance the elven vampire with your character, only to end up nowhere. Therefore you are completely unsure if the dialogue he was spewing was completely a figment of your imagination, or is, indeed, canon.

The elf in question has seen this expression of yours before. Quite often, too. And while he doesn’t think it a, “pleasant sight,” it is rather… charming to him.

Whether it be on purpose or not, people have the tendency to be on guard around him, preserving any twitch and sound that could give them away to themselves. Not that much had ever evaded him before with his naturally cunning behavior. But this clearly unscripted response, with the blatant confusion swimming in your eyes, is a rather refreshing sight to see.

“I see–” you clear your throat to lower your voice back to its normal octave. “Well, I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to uh, bring those thoughts into fruition! Uh–,” You slide the rest of the cut fruits off of your cutting board and into the stew.

“Is there anything else you wanted to tell me? Something I should know?” You turn to face him. He laughs at first, but then his brows furrow in question, as if he did have something to say and forgot about it or thinks it is no longer an appropriate time to ask. He shakes his head and says something along the lines of, “letting you do all the hard work” and returns to his tent.

But you are not left alone for long as another member of your little ragtag team joins you to ask about dinner. To which you ask them for which meat would be better to toss into it.

—————————

After dinner, your little rapport concerning the plan and new findings with everyone is adjourned. Some thanked you before they left, and others simply walked away. From what you have learned from them, the Archdruid that was taken prisoner by the goblins was named, “Halsin.” He was a topic of interest as they said he might be able to aid you in your search for moonrise and understanding the Mindflayer worms.

Wyll had also approached you alone after dinner and offhandedly mentioned a dead boar being on the road. He had planned to return to camp with it if it could have been useful, but he had claimed that the animal had been unnervingly light. As if half of its weight was no longer there despite seemingly just keeling over for no reason.

You take note of that in one of your many journals, including additional information about the Archdruid and their kind in general. The book appearing more and more like the game’s quest booklet, with the exception of a few crossouts and colored ink to emphasize each quest’s urgency and relevance to finding a cure. When you successfully rescue the druid of the grove, it seems you will have to move out quite soon after, so you fixed up your pack just a bit to make it easier later on.

You look around, everyone seems to be in their respective areas. Doing whatever it is they usually do with the exception of Astarion. Though he has been known to either sneak off or hide away from time to time in his tent, so you think nothing of it.

You return to the communal chest, tallying up the remaining supplies and inspecting the wares. You sort the tradeable objects in one rucksack and appraise its worth. The chest also has pieces of gold, some that others have placed, and others you picked up and added. You prefer to let the others keep what they think is valuable to them, and only place what they want to share in the vessel.

If the party’s gold ever runs out, you think that the rucksack is worth a few nights of food when you travel out again. Assured by this knowledge, you placed your writing materials back in, closed the chest, and turned in for the night.

Maybe this time, you’ll wake up. But you also don’t really want to. Not just yet.

—————————————

As you slept, you wondered about the longevity of your knowledge of the media. You hadn’t finished the game, and although you’ve accomplished a fair bit of it, you worry about how you will face the events to come. One of the only reasons why you haven’t flinched so much at the terrors that occurred was because you had anticipated them. Braced yourself for the dangers ahead.

You fear what might happen when you no longer have that power at your disposal.

Perhaps it's the worry, perhaps it's the stiff, compact ground that you have yet to be accustomed to sleep on despite the bedroll, or perhaps it's the presence of something suddenly cool that stirs you awake.

But what you did not expect was Astarion’s face hovering over yours to be the reason. Fangs bared, and ready to bite. Your eyes go wide and you let out a small gasp, hands moving up in a gesture akin to clawing at yourself.

The elf realizes that you’re awake now and he curses. Moving away as you scramble upright just like you did all those nights ago. The look of genuine fear at the prospect of being bitten is apparent on your face, and he feels almost guilty to be greeted with it.

“Please, I wasn’t going to hurt you— I just needed, well, blood.” He says it in a panic. Worried that you might run off, losing his only sure chance, and possibly enraging the rest of the camp.

In this moment, you realized the error in your ways. Astarion had been hunting nearly every other night in the same area. And if you were progressing through the events like how the game did, he couldn’t have had the time nor energy to venture too far after feeding from most of the creatures in the vicinity.

‘The exsanguinated boar…’ You remember.

“You’ve been feeding on animals for the past few nights, haven’t you?”

“It seems like word got around then.” Although unknowingly, he’s referencing what Wyll delivered to you earlier in the night.

“I’m not some monster, I feed on boars, deer, kobolds– whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. And with the damned excursion,” He stops himself, complaining is only doing worse for his condition.

“It’s not enough. I feel so…weak. If I just had a little blood, I could think clearer. Fight better.” You’re conflicted. You had no problem offering yourself as your character for him to feed on, but even witnessing that through a disconnected screen was enough to make you feel uncomfortable imagining it. You care about him, want to give him what he deserves, but this…

What’s more is that you know what he’s saying is necessary, not at all overstating how dire his need to satiate his hunger is, making it all the more difficult.

He needs to convince you, if he wants to continue on, that is. Without the presence of the illithid, he resorts to more practical means of doing so. Similar to what he did to many.

Noticing the slight tremor of your hands, he takes the chance to slowly kneel down on your bedroll. Closing the distance between you. He takes your hand, now rougher from the work you do, and meets your shaken gaze with his dark eyes.

“Please. I only need a taste, I swear.” He had meant to tell you before dinner, had he not felt the eyes of the others on the two of you. This discovery is not lost on you. He needs you specifically. And you realize it's out of convenience because you’re an expendable resource. If you pass, the group can venture on, but he also still needs you alive for whatever reason. He can’t have the others finding out, not until they trust him.

He needs you to trust him. And this is the only way you can help him in this moment.

With that, you strengthen your resolve.

“I…I trust you, Astarion. But no more than what you need.” A dangerous bet, but you hope it would be worth it.

“Really? I–”

“Can I trust you on that?” The shock on his face fades, and he agrees.

“Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?” You lay down, preparing yourself to faint during the process and allowing your blood to flow throughout your body. He observes the rapid movement of your eyes as he drapes himself above you. Your sight flitting from anywhere but him and then returning all the same. No doubt that you fear being at his mercy.

He feels almost sorry that you have to do this for him.

So he graces you with what mercy he can give.

The bite is quick. You would have felt the flesh of your neck parting for him, had he not done so. You feel tears prick at your eyes and start to feel the area from your neck and upwards go cold.

A momentary, sharp pain, that lulls to a chilling numbness in what seems like a matter of seconds.

You feel his body start to grow warmer at your expense and you feel satisfied knowing that you could help him.

When he doesn't stop, you start to worry.

Your breath catches in staccato beats, pulse quickening in tandem. You try to stop him, hands coming up to push or tug, but the heavy sensation that washes over you only permits them to find purchase on his form.

You try to speak, but it seems as if the common tongue does not reach him.

Your mind goes into overdrive, all of a sudden it doesn’t feel like a dream anymore and genuine fear courses through your veins.

You need him to stop, and you try to think of more efficient ways of doing so.

But your mind starts slowing as well. The pain has certainly faded, but the presence of the vampire at your throat reminds you in case you’ve forgotten.

As a last ditch effort, you try to use whatever might appeal to him, to break him out of the trance that he was in from finally replenishing himself.

“Isalhal–” One of the few Elvish words you recalled.

The effort thankfully makes him pull back in shock, stopping him. Your eyes finally close, thankful for the reprieve you're finally granted. You hear a distant, “thank you,” and a more distant “shit” before rest takes over.

You worry about waking up tomorrow.

But for now, you’re thankful that Astarion will be able to fight well.

For himself and for everyone else’s sake.

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Thank you to @rey26, @shyminnie07, @lynnloveshobi, @iggee-rose, @automnepoet, @tiannamortis, @aoirohi, @sarkara211, @jane-3043, @h3110-dar1in9, @h3ll0k1ttyl0ver333, @mimziethealien, @squichymochi, @sharabay, @furblrwurblr, @dork-of-the-universe, @thedevilssinner, @fuckalrighty, @queenofthespacesquids, @perseny, @goldenplutus, @h4nluv, @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer, and @auszimbo for asking to be tagged!!

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion ancunin x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader #aware!astarion #bg3 x reader isekai(?)#bg3 x reader

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sundrop-writes · 9 months

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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson Two

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals

(aka the one where Spencer learns how to finger you)

Summary:

After his first 'lesson', Spencer is even more eager to learn from you.

And while both of you are ignoring your growing yearning for something more, you teach him the next logical thing: how to pleasure you in return.

Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

Word Count: 26,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: General themes for a CM episode - murder/killing/mentions of gun violence/mentions of women being murdered and sexually assaulted/mentions of strangling; once again, there is a mention of a case that isn’t in the canon (one that I have made up) and this fic is not case-centric; the reader is held in a choke-hold by the killer and uses dark humour to get out of it; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mentions of the reader wearing a dress/very girly outfit; the reader is heavily implied to be plus-sized;mentions of the reader being older than Spencer, but there is no specific mention of how much the age difference is/number of years (tbh the way I am playing it, it could be months, a year, or years of difference because they make jokes about it) (because this takes place in early S2, Spencer would be 24/25, so if you’re younger than that, just imagine? lmao); the team being very nosy about Spencer and the reader’s sex life and the reader lying about it in order to spare Spencer because he’s shy (not because she’s embarrassed of him); heavily implications of Morcia as a background couple; mentions of drinking/drunkenness (does not take place in this fic, it’s just mentioned in passing); mentions of Spencer being bullied as a child.

General sexual themes; ongoing dom/sub relationship - Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; a safeword is in place but it’s not used; Spencer is generally inexperienced and the reader is 'teaching’ him things about sex, including slang, kinks, sexual technique, and the emotional consequences of sex, generally helping him explore his sexual side; mentions of using sex toys (a fleshlight, passing mentions of dildos, including a tentacle dildo that is not used); mentions of Spencer masturbating independently from scenes/playtime with the reader (these scenes are not detailed); descriptions of subspace; descriptions of Spencer having a subdrop/bad subspace experience because he masturbates without the reader there (this is a very brief part of the fic and all other moments of subspace are described pleasantly); the word 'MILF’ is used to describe the reader - as a joke, and because Spencer doesn’t fully understand the context.

The actual smutty meat of the fic (aka girl dinner) consists of: panty kink - Spencer wears a pair of lacy panties under his clothes while in public because it turns the reader on; praise kink - Spencer loves being praised; public/semi-public 'sex’ (they don’t have full-blown sex, it’s just groping through clothing, and they are in a secluded area of a public place when it happens); risk of getting caught; strength kink - the reader exerts her strength over Spencer and he likes it; heated making out; hair pulling (Spencer receiving); groping through clothes (reader and Spencer receiving); Spencer cums in his pants while being groped; clothes sharing - Spencer wears the reader’s clothes; the reader calls Spencer honey, sweetie, baby, pretty boy, good boy; Spencer calls the reader Miss; this fic does feature Mommy kink - Spencer starts calling the reader Mommy partway through; mentions of the reader wearing traditionally feminine lingerie; hand kink - the reader likes Spencer’s hands; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Spencer’s fingers); vaginal fingering/clitoral stimulation - the reader teaches Spencer how to finger her; Spencer edges the reader unintentionally; guided masturbation - Spencer masturbates for the reader; Spencer cums on the reader (by accident?); the reader licks some of Spencer’s cum; mentions of pregnancy (Spencer likes the idea of getting the reader pregnant, but she is on birth control so it won’t happen in this fic lmao); some mentions of aftercare (not as in depth as the previous fic); and I believe that’s it.

A/N: I do intend for each part of this to possibly be read as a oneshot, so you don’t have to read Lesson One in order for this to make sense narratively. But if you want more sub!Spencer stuff, then you should go back and read Lesson One just for your enjoyment. This makes reference to things that have happened in the first part, but you won’t be utterly confused if you jump into reading this without reading the other one first. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy it, if you're reading this for the first time or re-reading it.

...

When you woke up the next morning, you had almost forgotten about what had happened.

You were drowsy, your body almost entirely sunken into the soft bed. If not for the ripe scent of coffee drifting through the air and undertone of something uniquely masculine stuck to the pillow - Spencer’s aftershave - then you likely would have thought that you were comfortable in your own apartment and simply turned over to go back to sleep.

But then it all came flooding back to you.

The Chinese take-out date, gifting Spencer the fleshlight - tying him to the chair in order to ‘help’ him use it. His moans, the sweet way he had looked up at you with those big eyes. The way he had called you ‘Miss’ with such utterly beautiful desperation, how perfect he had looked covered in his own cum.

You sighed with delight as you remembered it all, a gentle tingle coming over your body as you thought about it.

It was then that you realized what the pungent smell of coffee meant: Spencer must have been brewing a pot. You had no clue what time it was or when you had to be ready for work - but coffee sounded fucking amazing after the eventful night the two of you had.

You were surprised that Spencer wasn’t still in bed, cuddled up to you.

He had spent the whole night clinging to your back like a koala in the most endearing way. You had no clue how a man so large could make himself seem so small at times, but he definitely accomplished that by hooking his leg around your hip and whining whenever you tried to pull away from him even a slight bit.

(You hated that it was something that would have been intensely annoying from any other partner or one night stand, but when he did it, you found it adorable. You knew that you were letting him get away with too much already, but you couldn’t help yourself.)

What you didn’t realize: yes, Spencer would have loved to be cuddled up with you in bed all morning. But he had woken up before you - and he would deny the amount of time he had taken to stare at you while you were sleeping, ogling your beautiful, peaceful face. After he had gotten out of bed, he had taken the initiative to attempt to prepare breakfast.

He rarely cooked for himself. When he did cook, it was usually simple, plain, unimpressive dishes that were more meant to kill hunger than to actually taste nice. And he was even further screwed by the fact that his fridge wasn’t even well stocked because the team had been so busy on cases that he hadn’t even thought to go grocery shopping in a while.

Of course, he had coffee (and cream, and sugar - because he wasn’t a monster, he made himself a cup every morning). And he had some basics like eggs, so he was trying his best to make something nice for you.

When you walked into the kitchen, still dressed in nothing but your camisole and your panties, the chill of the morning air was biting and Spencer looked invitingly warm.

He was standing at the stove, concentrating on some sizzling pan, and you couldn’t resist the urge to walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He had gotten dressed since getting out of bed, so he was wearing a bright blue cotton tee shirt (that you didn’t yet see had the Superman logo on the front) and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. It was an entirely adorable sight: Spencer in loungewear. You indulged in pressing your face lightly between his shoulders, loving the feeling of the soft cotton against your cheek.

You noticed that the radio was on in the background - a low hum compared to the pan sizzling on the stove. But from what you could tell, the news was playing. He was such an old man in some ways.

“Please tell me that’s coffee I’m smelling.” You moaned quietly, feeling snuggled by his soft embrace.

“A teaspoon of sugar and just a little bit of cream,” He said, taking his hand off the handle of the frying pan to reach over to the side, grabbing a coffee cup and hoisting it in your direction - which was slightly awkward with you behind him.

You met him halfway, taking the coffee thankfully. Then you moved to lean against the counter to actually drink your coffee. He was rueful that the hug didn’t last longer, but he didn’t say anything about it.

“You remembered,” You grinned at him, referring to the fact that he had made your coffee exactly how you liked it.

When you took the first sip, it tasted amazing, and began to wake up your senses from the drowsy lull that you had been feeling.

“It’s quite literally impossible for me to forget.” He replied, giving you a grin.

“Hmm,” You hummed thoughtfully, clutching the warm coffee cup with both hands. “I’d like to test that theory one of these days.”

If you could make Spencer so incoherent with an orgasm, even just begging for one, you were willing to bet that you could feed him information that he wouldn’t be able to repeat back to you when he was so fucked out. It would be one of the ultimate victories - proving the genius’s perfect eidetic memory wrong.

Spencer saw that look in your eyes - the same one you had given him last night before you had gifted him the fleshlight. (Which was still propped up in the drying rack, a sight that had startled him when he had first gotten into the kitchen that morning). He had a feeling that, based on that look alone, he knew what you meant. He shied away then, looking back down to the pan of eggs as your brain moved on to another subject.

“I still can’t believe that you listen to the radio in the morning,” You commented, nodding toward the device that was propped up on the half-wall that partitioned off the kitchen from the living room. “You’re such an old man.”

“I’m younger than you!” He chuckled.

“No, no.” You easily corrected him, your voice taking on a very typical joking tone. “Being an old man is a way of life. It’s not about your age. It’s why you and Gideon get along so well.”

Spencer snorted with laughter at this. He turned off the stove, deciding the eggs were done, and began to scrape them onto a plate, hoping that it wasn’t too measly or unimpressive.

“Well then… you had sex with an old man last night.” Spencer chuckled, trying to sound confident in this ‘joke’.

You couldn’t help but to laugh at his nervousness.

“You need to work on your comebacks, too.” You told him with a grin. “I should get you one of those ‘yo mama’ joke books that seventh graders pass around.”

“Oh, that explains why I suck at comebacks. I skipped seventh grade.” He shrugged casually.

You laughed even harder at this. For him, it was a simple statement of fact, but to you, it sounded like he was purely bragging, and that turned out to be a better joke than the one he actually intended as humor.

Spencer bit his lip to hold back a grin.

Mornings with you - it was so much better than he had expected. He had expected things to be intensely awkward after what had taken place last night. He had expected that the entire tone of your relationship might change. And that was something he was fearful of. But you were still making jokes, still absolutely not afraid to insult him in that joking way that you did.

Spencer felt a yearning deep inside of him at the realization - like the string of a harp being plucked, setting off vibrations of bitter harmony through his entire being. He wanted his life to be like this every single morning. He wanted to make coffee for you every day - he wanted to be yours.

You picked up a fork and took a small bite of the eggs he had offered up, and Spencer felt his heart drop when your face immediately coiled into disgust.

“What’s wrong?” He asked quietly, fearing he had terribly disappointed you.

“Honey… how much salt did you put in this?” You asked, your words slightly muffled by the food cradled on your tongue.

You walked over to the sink and spit the eggs out, and Spencer rushed to pick up a fork for himself as he answered.

“Not much, I think.” He said, taking his own bite of the food. Then he immediately understood. “Oh my god. That’s so bad.” He said, feeling a gag curling in his throat at just how putridly salty it was.

He leaned over and spat his bite in the sink next to yours, and before the fear of disappointing you could fully set in, you burst out laughing brightly.

“Oh god.” You chuckled. “You don’t usually cook, do you?”

“Not really.” He said, giving you a timid smile. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You assured him, rubbing a hand gently across his back. “We can just get some breakfast on the way to work.”

He would learn to cook for you too. Most definitely.

The sweetness and peace was disrupted by a sharp digital chirping - a cellphone ringing. You didn’t think to question if it was your phone or Spencer’s before you put your coffee cup on the counter and rushed toward the sound, finding the small silver object buzzing in the middle of the coffee table (still off to the side of the room where you had pushed it the night before). You grabbed it up and flipped it open, and answered without hesitation.

“Hello?” You said politely.

Spencer stood in the doorway of the kitchen then, watching on with curiosity, wondering if the two of you were being called in for a case.

“Y/N?” JJ’s voice came from the other end of the line - but she sounded oddly confused.

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “What’s up?”

“What are you doing answering Spencer’s phone?” She asked, an eager curiosity coming through her voice.

Your work phones were practically identical, so it was a crapshoot.

You scrambled to make up an excuse, even though you knew her mind had likely already strayed to something in the realm of ‘adult sleepover’.

“He and I were hanging out last night and I fell asleep on the couch watching movies.” You said. “You know Reid, he went on that whole rant about how driving tired is like driving drunk, he insisted that I stay over-”

JJ let out a hardy laugh, cutting you off.

“Yeah, keep working on that.” She said. “I’m sure the others will definitely believe it.” You rolled your eyes at this, and JJ continued. “Did the two of you use a condom, or should we be expecting some genius babies coming our way nine months from now?”

You wanted to conjure up a crude (but truthful) joke about how Spencer had cum into a silicone pussy and you didn’t think babies could come from that. But for once, you managed to hold your tongue. You wanted to respect his privacy rather than flaunting your sexual exploits in front of other people and embarrassing him. You did have some sense of tact.

“Do we have a case or are you just calling around cause you’re lonely?” You fired back, trying to get her off this topic.

“Yes, we do.” She said. “And you just saved me a phone call. So you and your little boyfriend get in here as soon as possible, okay?”

You sighed. “Yeah, of course.”

You snapped the phone shut before she could make any more cute comments, and then you walked over and handed it to Spencer.

“There’s a case?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You told him. “Sweetie, would you mind running down to my car and grabbing my go-bag? I need a fresh change of clothes.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I can do that.”

His overall obedience toward you kicked in again, and he found himself nodded eagerly. He knew that if he were a dog, his tail would have been wagging relentlessly as he shoved on a pair of shoes and a sweater and you tossed him your keys from your purse in order to go and do the task.

You chugged down your coffee and headed toward the bathroom for a quick shower to freshen up. As Reid went down to the parking garage, he had to wonder about the things he had just heard you say on that call.

He knew that you had made up the excuse about you ‘falling asleep on the couch’ to JJ because you didn’t want to simply expose the fact that the two of you had played around the night before. It was a private thing that should be kept between the two of you. Even though you were relatively shameless about toting other private matters in public. You were never ashamed about announcing to the world when you were on your period or if certain foods had upset your stomach - in great detail.

So - if you weren’t so eager to announce being with Reid, did it mean that you were ashamed of him? Did it mean that you didn’t want to tell everyone that you had a sexual partner like him?

He tried not to stew in that thought as he brought your bag back upstairs. When he closed the door to the apartment and you heard him come in, you called him and told him to come toward the bathroom, and he heard the shower shutting off.

It was only then that it occurred to him that you were using his shower - you were naked in the shower. You were naked in his apartment.

He felt warmth in his pelvis at the thought, and he tried dampening it down (tried thinking of horror, sadness, dead bodies) - because he really didn’t have time to masturbate or ‘play’ more with you before work. He didn’t have time to take care of an erection right now. Would this be a recurring problem? Getting erections around you so easily now because you had awakened something in him? Because now he knew that you would actually touch him?

When Spencer came to the bathroom door, it was partially cracked open, and there was warm, hazy air pouring out - clearly steam from how hot you had the shower.

“Did you find the bag?” You asked, clearly having heard Spencer’s footsteps in the hallway.

“Y-yeah.” He answered.

“Okay, well, you can come in and bring it to me.” You chuckled, bright and confident as ever.

Spencer pushed the door open fully.

He felt like he was stepping into an early morning heaven when he stepped into that humid air and saw you standing in the middle of the bathmat, wrapping a towel around your naked, dripping body.

The way you held it kept your breasts and vagina fully covered, shielding all of the ‘important’ parts from Spencer’s view. But when you pulled it back to adjust the tightness of the towel around your chest, you clearly didn’t care about the skin that was revealed. The thickness of your hip and the plushness of the side of your stomach was bared to his eyes; his gaze devoured the large strip of skin all the way up the side of your body, just barely kissing the side of your breast where the towel covered you. It looked so scandalous even though it showed so little of you before you covered yourself back up and tucked the towel into itself, securing the fabric around your body.

“Thank you, Spencer.” You said, reaching out and grabbing the bag from him.

Spencer stood there for a moment longer, watching in utter awe as his eyes traced a droplet of water down your neck and into your cleavage. He wondered what it might be like to lean over and lick it up, wondering what your skin might taste like-

“Spence, shouldn’t you go get ready now?” You posed, looking up from rooting around your bag that you now had propped up on the closed toilet lid.

“Right.” Spencer said. “Right. Yeah.”

Spencer rushed off to his bedroom, doing just that.

He did have to masturbate before he could focus at all on getting dressed. He felt slightly shameful for it, but he picked up your discarded blouse from his bedroom floor, left there by you from the night before, holding it to his nose while he pumped his cock with his hand. And with it, he came faster than he ever had by his own touch. And then he rushed to clean up and get dressed and managed to meet you just as you were emerging from the bathroom, looking as beautiful as ever in another button up blouse and simple black pants.

You gave him a grin and didn’t at all seem to suspect that he had touched himself, and he felt so utterly victorious - like he had a secret, like he had gotten away with something.

��

You had to laugh as you watched Spencer struggle to clean the dried cum off his glasses in the car with a couple of wet wipes. It was something you had forgotten to do the night before, and you found it entirely amusing as he muttered and grunted to himself, trying to get the lenses fully clean while you drove.

By the time you got to the office, Spencer’s glasses were glimmering clean and you recklessly pulled into the first parking spot you saw in the garage, hoping that you weren’t terribly late. (Unfortunately you hadn’t had time for breakfast, and hunger was gnawing at you, but you would take care of that later.)

Spencer began voicing complaints about your parking job and the likelihood of your doors getting dented by someone else getting out of their car, but you simply dragged him forward with a hand on his wrist and told him that it would be your problem as you shoved him into the elevator.

Nobody else was lingering in the bullpen, which worried you, and surely enough - everybody else was already sitting at the roundtable as you and Spencer walked down the hall. Many prying eyes stared at the two of you from the doorway, clearly expectant of the two of you. When you got in, you noticed that the only absent face was Gideon. At least you and Spencer weren’t the only ones holding up the presentation of the case.

“You’re late.” Hotch grumbled as Spencer shut the door behind the two of you. “Again.”

“So sue me.” You shrugged, causing Hotch to roll his eyes, and causing a smirk from Morgan and Elle - who generally loved your snark.

“Don’t blame her, Hotch, she probably had a hard time finding her keys after Boy Genius rocked her world.” Elle said, making an obvious joke about the fact that you and Spencer had come in together.

That, and you wouldn’t put it above JJ not to tell everyone that you had spent the night at Spencer’s place (especially if she delivered that news under suspicion that the two of you had sex).

Reid - who had gone to the counter off to the side to get himself yet another cup of coffee - dropped a packet of sugar on the floor out of nervousness when he heard Elle’s comment. You found it entirely adorable when he scrambled to pick it up, clearly trying his hardest not to seem suspicious.

“So come on, how was it?” Morgan said, looking right at you as he hopped onto the joke. “Did he spread you open like a good library book?”

Hotch sighed, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose, knowing he could do nothing to stop the conversation. He looked to his phone, desperately trying to ignore this as it went on around him.

“Very funny.” You griped sarcastically. “If I look tired, it’s because this loser had me up all night rambling on about Star Wars - fun facts, behind the scenes trivia.” You said, motioning toward Spencer for emphasis when you said ‘this loser’. “I absolutely did not need to know the difference between a protocol droid and an astromech droid, but now I do.”

On any other occasion, you casually throwing around the word ‘loser’ in reference to Spencer would have hurt his feelings.

But during this moment, Spencer found himself suppressing a grin. Everyone in the room had basically invited you to openly mock him for his lack of sexual ability, to spill his secrets as office gossip. But instead, you had chosen to keep those secrets close to your chest, clearly as a way to protect him from future mockery. And on top of that, you had made a clever reference to a previous conversation that the two of you did have about Star Wars. He was proud that you remembered the term ‘astromech droid’ off the top of your head at all.

He felt proud, sharing a filthy secret with you. And he knew that he was definitely not a loser after what had happened last night.

“Star Wars?” JJ questioned, looking at you with an expression that said she definitely knew you were lying, but she obviously didn’t have any proof.

You had told her that you fell asleep on his couch by accident, and now you were telling the others that he had kept you up all night?

“Yeah, that sounds more like it.” Morgan chuckled, receiving a knowing nod from Elle.

Spencer passed by you, placing a coffee cup in front of your chair as you took your jacket off and sat down. He highly resisted the urge to give you a grin - knowing that it would give away your sweet little secret to the rest of the room. He simply walked around the table and took his own seat, and before any further discussion about the possible antics of your private lives could occur, Gideon walked in with a file in hand and JJ began presenting the case.

…

It was a case like any other. (Unfortunately.) Women strangled, sexually assaulted, left in areas of the woods that weren’t too difficult to find.

As you looked at the horrific crime scene photos, you couldn’t help but to think that perhaps part of the reason you loved to dominate subservient men was to take back your personal power. Because deep down, you knew that you were terrified of ending up like that, and you loved the small piece of the world that you could take back when you got your hand around a man’s neck and made him beg for mercy (consensually, of course).

But you couldn’t dwell on that for too long, because you had a job to do.

There was a fresh crime scene when the team arrived, and Hotch sent you and Morgan to investigate it while he and Gideon went to speak to the victim’s family. The others left to set up at the local police station, and you couldn’t help but to notice Spencer’s eyes lingering on you as you parted ways.

There were some drag marks in the dirt and a camera perched on a public bathroom that insisted the victim (and her attacker) could have been seen, so Morgan stepped away to call Garcia to see if she could pull anything from the camera’s feed. You did some more looking around, but couldn’t find anything of note.

When you walked back over to where Morgan was perched beside the SUV, grinning with his phone beside his ear, you couldn’t hold back a comment at his final words before he hung up.

“-oh, of course. Well you are beautiful and brilliant as always, my love. Thank you.”

“You didn’t tell me Reid was on the phone.” You commented snidely, giving a wide smirk as you walked around into Morgan’s view.

You thought you were being clever, making the joke that he would call Reid beautiful, or playfully call him ‘my love’. But of course, he turned this right back around on you.

“No, that was just Garcia. She said the camera’s a dud and she couldn’t get anything off it.” Before you could comment on this fact, he continued.

“But I took a message from Reid earlier. He said he left his panties at your place and he wants them back,” He smirked widely himself as he said this.

Likely the exact opposite of what he had intended, this caused a distinct image in your mind. One of Spencer wearing a pair of pink lacy panties - his long, hard cock straining to fit inside the skimpy material, and leaky wildly inside of it, making everything so wet.

You forced yourself to refocus, and purposefully put on a sour look, pretending that you were annoyed by his crude comment.

“Ha-ha.” You griped sarcastically. “You know Reid and I aren’t a thing. So you can stop with the jokes before you embarrass him.”

Truthfully, you did want the jokes to stop before it hurt Reid. You knew that he likely wanted to keep his sex life private. You didn’t want his shyness to come back tenfold before you could truly open him up and explore his filthy side.

Morgan snorted, clearly in disbelief.

“Oh, so you’re gonna act like that whole bit this morning wasn’t you and boy genius stumblin’ in late because of a late night booty call?” Morgan posed. “A real one. Not him fallin’ asleep on his phone.”

You shifted your attitude then. If he wasn’t going to drop it, then you were going to arm yourself.

“Okay, if you’re so invested in my sex life, you wanna talk about the size XXL purple leopard thong that I found in your back seat three weeks ago?” You posed sharply, a stone cold look on your face even though you were holding back the urge to laugh.

At the time, Morgan had offered to give you a ride home because your car battery had died. And when you tossed your bag into his back seat, you randomly spotted the streak of bright color - very out of place among the few gray sweatshirts he had in the back. And when you picked it up, wondering what it was, you held it in your hands and in a moment, based on the size, knew who it belonged to.

But he had been denying where it had come from (and the lustful tryst behind it) ever since. Clearly he wanted to keep his inter-office sex life private too.

“I-” Morgan began stuttering out an explanation, then swallowed it up. “We should get going.” He said, motioning toward the SUV.

“We should.” You easily agreed.

…

The whole time the team spent working the case, you found it difficult to interact with Spencer.

You really wanted to say that having sex with him wouldn’t change your working relationship, but it wasn’t like you had fucked just anybody. It was Spencer. If you had railed Elle or Derek or anybody else on the team, you probably could have gone to work the next day and pushed it to the back of your mind with grace.

But knowing that Spencer was inexperienced, knowing that you had likely been the first person to ever hear him moan like that, the first to ever see him covered in his own cum - it was definitely something that stuck in your head (to a painfully distracting extent).

Every time you so much as looked at him, saw that thoughtful expression with those glasses perched on his face, you immediately pictured him blissfully fucked out with large spots of his own cum covering the lenses.

So you tried your best to avoid him for the majority of the work. You volunteered to leave the station whenever possible, and left him with his maps, making a geographical profile, doing what he did best. You tried to keep yourself distracted and focused on a case.

This - somehow - had you and Gideon following a lead, following up with someone who had spoken to the first victim a few minutes before she was murdered. While the two of you searched the man’s property looking for him, he managed to sneak up behind you and put you in a chokehold, attempting to strangle you.

Because yeah - he was the killer. Great.

And apparently, once again, your sick sense of humor paid off. Because when your hand reached for your gun upon instinct and you realized that in your Spencer Reid sex-haze distractions, you had somehow forgotten it in the car, you cursed yourself, and then you began to physically struggle. And then you realized that this man was too strong, and there was no good way for you to escape the hold with physical methods.

With your vision becoming hazy, your instinct was to start moaning in a very exaggerated, pornographic way and tell him how much you liked the feeling of being strangled - which led him to loosen his grip out of shock. And that gave you more than enough room to elbow him in the face, knocking him loopy so you could call to Gideon for help.

The two of you had him in cuffs in minutes and when everyone else got there and asked you how you managed to escape, you told them that you were simply too fierce of a fighter for the man to hold you down. They didn’t need to know what actually happened or where your mind went when faced with danger.

Spencer looked at you with incredibly sad eyes when he saw the irritated strangle marks around your neck, but you pointed to the marks and told him you were fine with a chuckle. That it looked worse than it was. You were surprised and kind of hurt when he didn’t say anything to you in return.

Spencer didn’t sit next to you during the plane ride home (which you took slight offense to). But he did come up to you in the parking garage when you were getting ready to leave. You had been inspecting a large bump in one of your doors (cursing the fact that Spencer always had to be right), and you became distracted when you heard his footsteps echoing through the large space behind you.

You thought that maybe he needed a ride since you had been the one to drive him there after your heated night together. But he stood a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, so you took your hand off the key that was poised in your car door and made it clear that you were prepared to pay attention to him - clearly he had something to say.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked timidly.

“What? No.” You let out breathily, almost laughing. “Why would you think-?” You began to ask, and then cut yourself off, realizing the answer to your own question halfway through speaking it. “Because I’ve been avoiding you.” You spoke aloud.

Spencer nodded, seeming very solemn and downtrodden by this fact.

“You wouldn’t even look at me over the past few days.” He said. “I mean, I understand if I did something wrong.” He declared, his voice taking on the same broken wetness that his eyes had, as though he was on the verge of crying. “But I - I thought that what happened the other night, what we did, I thought it was special. I-”

“Spencer. Come here.” You summoned him closer, not wanting to talk loudly across the parking garage at him. You didn’t want your voices to echo when speaking about your sex life - just in case anybody did happen to come by.

You found it achingly adorable that he called what had happened ‘special’. Like he was a young woman talking about ‘making love’. It was tooth-rotting sweet. Especially considering that he wasn’t referring to some night where the two of you had laid in bed together with candles and Barry Mantilow playing. But rather, a time where you had tied him to a kitchen chair and fucked him senseless with a fake pussy.

Spencer easily followed your order, finding nothing but natural order in listening to you. He came to stand just a few inches from your body where you were leaning up against the door of your car, and then you began to speak quietly.

“What we did was special.” You assured him with a smile. The sadness on his features broke up slightly at this. “In fact, it was so special that I couldn’t get it out of my head. Every time I looked at you, I just imagined you moaning for me, covered in your own cum. I kept hearing your pretty voice in my ears saying ‘please’ in that gorgeous way you do.”

Of course, you did angle your words more into dirty talk, and you leaned into him slightly when you said these things, whispering in a low, seductive voice. You loved how his Adam’s apple bobbed heavily as he swallowed thickly, and a slight flush moved across his cheeks at your words.

When he didn’t say anything, clearly stunned into silence by your words, you continued.

“I didn’t want to be turned on, or distracted when we have an important job to do.” You had to leave out the fact that you had been so distracted that you had almost made a fatal mistake. But nobody needed to know about that. “So… I just tried to focus on something other than you for a while. I do apologize if it seems like I was avoiding you out of anger, but that is definitely not the case.” You told him, easily capping off your explanation.

“I understand.” Spencer nodded. “That’s… kind of how I feel every day. But I guess I’m just used to it by now. So I’m better at not being distracted.”

You felt intensely flattered, and slightly turned on as he unintentionally fluffed your ego.

“Because you’re a good boy.” You told him, knowing that praise was one of his weak spots.

You swore you saw his knees shake when the words hit him, and he cleared his throat loudly before he spoke again.

“Is - is it always going to be like this?” He asked.

He would have mourned your friendship if that were the case. He didn’t want to trade off your jokes and your everyday interactions for the sex, as amazing as the sex was. Selfishly, he wanted both.

“No.” You easily assured him. “I just need a bit of time to get my head on straight. I need some time to get used to it. Like you said, I need to get better at not being distracted.”

Spencer nodded at this.

He was very tempted to ask if you wanted to come over to his place that night. If you wanted to ‘sleep-over’ again. Not only had he enjoyed the spectacular orgasm, learning from you, but he had genuinely enjoyed the kind of domesticity that came from waking up with you there. He loved having someone in his kitchen in the morning. He knew he would miss that sorely if he woke up tomorrow morning and you weren’t there. (Perhaps you had spoiled him too much already.)

However, before he could work up the courage to ask, you leaned up on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, muttering ‘goodnight, Spence’. And in return, he muttered something about paperwork before he walked back toward the elevator.

…

That night, Spencer went home and grabbed the fleshlight off the dishrack as soon as he spotted it. He knew that you had bought it for him with the intention of him using it independently, but as he grabbed the bottle of lube off the living room coffee table, he just felt… lonely without you there.

But he supposed that he had to learn how to do it on his own, because you wouldn’t be there all the time to help him. It was only a fantasy - the two of you getting a place together, so he could serve you in every possible way, doing so gleefully, and in return, you would play with him whenever he wanted.

He stripped naked and slicked up his cock and the toy just like you had shown him. He couldn’t help but to miss the feeling of your hand on his cock as he did it. When he got the tight softness of the fake pussy around him, he screwed his eyes closed tight - and all he could think about was you.

He missed you like a tree missing sunlight, and he felt his head spinning - felt like he had no greater sense of control without your voice telling him what to do. It made him anxious and on edge the whole time he had that fake pussy wrapped around his cock, rather than the beautifully, buttery warmth he had felt before.

By the time he came, he was practically sobbing. A deep ache for you in his chest as he missed your touch over him - missed the feeling of your fingers running through his hair, missed your voice calling him ‘good boy’ as that tingling ran through his gut.

After he rinsed out the toy with hot water and put it back in the dish rack to dry (wondering if he was cleaning it right) and jumped in the shower, he wondered if he would ever be content to masturbate alone again. He wondered if you had ruined him, if he would ever truly feel satiated without your touch.

…

The next few days passed without much of note happening.

You and Spencer stayed away from each other in the office and everyone began to whisper, theorizing that you were in some kind of fight. But of course, they didn’t notice the glances the two of you exchanged over the partition of your close desks - a deeply knowing stare that only the other person could decipher.

Also, unknowingly, Derek had given you a fantastic idea.

One day during your lunch break, you visited a lingerie store that you loved, and picked up a pair of lacy pink panties that would definitely be too small for you - but that you hoped would fit a certain genius’ slim hips just right.

…

At the end of the week, you were intensely thankful to have a day off.

You were tempted to turn your phone off completely, not wanting to be cursed with being called in on your day off. You could say that you lived with the hope that nobody out there was needing the BAU’s help, but truly, you were just annoyed and wanted some time to relax.

You woke up naturally around mid morning, and you were feeling hungry so you hesitantly rolled out of bed. You washed your face and did a light, lazy morning routine. On your way to the kitchen in your modest, cozy, but very well decorated apartment, you heard a knock on the door.

You felt all of your muscles tense up unconsciously. You really hoped that it wasn’t someone from the team, needing something. (You also hoped that it wasn’t one of your exes, showing up unannounced to beg for you back because the sex had been too good and had ruined them for anyone else - which had happened before. Multiple times unfortunately.)

You hesitantly walked over to the door (so tempted to pretend that you weren’t home and simply be left unbothered). When you looked through the peephole, you were delightfully surprised to see that it was Spencer. He was standing there, dressed like he usually did for work, holding a tray with two takeout coffee cups in one hand and a large brown paper bag in the other.

He had brought breakfast.

A sweetheart with a big dick and a pretty face who begged so pretty and brought food? Fuck, you might just have to marry him.

You eagerly opened the door and grinned widely at him.

“Spence!” You greeted him with excitement. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Um, hi.” He gave you a smile himself, and nodded at you rather than waving because his hands were full. “Can I come in? I brought breakfast.” He motioned toward the items in his hands, and you nodded, moving aside to let him in. “I wanted to make up for those… abysmal eggs that I made you the other morning.”

“They weren’t abysmal.” You told him with a chuckle as you shut the door. “And I do admire you for trying.”

Spencer naturally navigated his way to your small kitchen, to the small round table that you had in there to set the items down. This was only his third time in your apartment.

Two of the other times he had been there, it had been to hang out and play board games with you, JJ, Elle, and Penelope. Something that had started out as a joke - Derek telling him that he might have fun ‘tagging along on girls’ night’. So he had. And he did have fun.

And one of the times it had been because he had gotten quite drunk and you had brought him here to take care of him. Because he had been so drunk that he couldn’t tell you where his house keys were. Waking up on your couch that morning to the smell of pancakes had been delightfully confusing.

Either way, he found your apartment wonderfully homey. Decorated in jewel tones with girly touches. And there was always a nice smell lingering in the air from some kind of scented candle or nice perfume you were wearing.

“Yeah, well, food is definitely not one of my areas of expertise.” Spencer admitted, carrying on the conversation as he took your coffee out of the tray and handed it to you.

You noticed the distinct motion of his eyes going up and down your body, lingering around your thighs and your breasts, distracting him from picking up his own coffee for a few moments.

It was only then that you became hyper-aware of the fact that you were still wearing your pajamas.

It was a matching set made of a thin cotton fabric with a floral pattern on it - the top was a tank top with thin little spaghetti straps (and of course, you had just gotten out of bed, so you weren’t wearing a bra). The shorts were intensely short, revealing most of your wide thighs. It didn’t leave much to the imagination, so you realized why it caused Spencer’s eyes to wander. You loved his keen gaze, though. And you pretended not to notice as the conversation continued.

“The genius finally admits that there’s something he doesn’t know!” You chuckled.

“There are still plenty of things I don’t know.” Spencer said quietly - the glint in his eye told you that he was definitely referring to the pivotal conversation that the two of you had the other night. The conversation where he had lovingly begged you to teach him about sex. “Plenty of things I still need to learn.”

There was a pause where the air was filled with intense sexual tension, but Spencer broke it by grabbing the paper bag with the food in it and opening it up.

“I got you a breakfast sandwich.” He said. “Bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel.”

“Sounds perfect.” You nodded. “Plates are in the cupboard above the sink. I’m gonna go down to my mailbox and see if my newspaper has been delivered.” You told him, walking over to the door to shove on your slippers.

“Getting your news from the paper? What an old lady you are,” Spencer said, clearly recycling your own words from the other morning back at you.

“That just means you like old ladies.” You chuckled, recycling his comment from the other day. “You must be into MILFs,”

“‘MILFs?’” Spencer questioned, that adorably confused look coming across his features again.

You became filled to the brim with glee at the realization that you would get to explain this to him.

“It means ‘Mother I’d Like To Fuck’ or ‘Mommy I’d Like To Fuck’.” You told him. “Usually it’s used to describe a sex fantasy where someone wants to fuck - well, a mother. Someone who’s had children, because they’re attracted to the concept of motherhood. Or it can be describing a porn category, usually anything with a curvy older woman and a younger man… some people say that a MILF doesn’t necessarily have to be a woman who’s had kids, just a woman who’s older than you and hot.”

Spencer’s lips gaped with lustful shock, and a flush came over him. He wanted to confirm that you were definitely a MILF - because you were a woman who was technically older than him, curvy, and very hot. And he definitely wanted to fuck you. All the time. But that would mean using the word ‘Mommy’ to describe you, and as much as that brought a tingle through him - that was not a can of worms that he was ready to open. Yet.

You left him standing there, gaping with shock and you couldn’t help but to laugh at this as you walked out the door to go to the mailbox.

When you came back, you and Spencer sat on the couch and ate with the TV playing quietly in the background. A random network was playing Pretty Woman and you left it on because Spencer remarked that he had never seen it before, and you found it adorable how closely he paid attention to the film as it progressed.

When you finished your food, you opened your newspaper and began reading. At some point, you had stretched out, and your feet had wandered into Spencer’s lap. Before you could wonder if he found it annoying, he began to lightly massage them.

It was a delicate kind of peace, and you couldn’t help but to enjoy the silent, easy company as he watched the film and you read an article about a new baby penguin being given to two male penguin parents at the local zoo.

You didn’t know that Spencer’s skin was crawling, eagerness building up inside of him as he sat in silence. Seeing you just sitting there, your face gently concentrated as you read. You putting your feet so carelessly in his lap, using him like he was just a lovely piece of furniture, just a footrest for you. All if it seemed to be checkmarks on some unknown list of things that only made him more lustful.

And for the past ten minutes, he had been slowly losing focus on the plot of the film and found himself staring more and more at your thighs or sneaking glances at you over top of the newspaper.

He had the urge to simply nudge your legs apart and crawl between them. To start touching you until he found out what was pleasurable for you. Until you called him ‘good boy’ in that way that made him melt again. But he wasn’t nearly confident enough to just do that. So he was just sitting there quietly. Slowly going insane as he thought about all the things that he wanted you to be doing to him now that the two of you were alone with free time.

Of course, you noticed him becoming more antsy. You felt him moving more in his seat, you felt him becoming tense under your feet. So you decided to ask and see what he would say. You wondered if he would come right out and admit that he was feeling lustful, or if you would have to pull it out of him.

“What’s up, Spence?” You asked, glancing over the newspaper at him.

Then, Spencer said something incredibly stupid.

“They’re hosting some of Van Gogh’s original sketches at the Smithsonian Art Museum this month.” Spencer said, motioning toward the back page of the newspaper that you had extended in one hand. It was all advertisements, but one of them did say something about a Van Gogh exhibit including some of his original art.

He had been feeling dangerously nervous and wanted to deflect from himself.

“Hmm.” You said after you read it. “Maybe we should go check it out.”

Spencer’s face fell to disappointment at this suggestion, and you held back laughter.

“What? Did you have some other grand plans for the day?” You posed, knowing this would get the right reaction out of him.

“I…” Spencer let out a breath, clearly hesitating. “I was kind of hoping we could… play.”

You couldn’t hold back your grin. You loved that he was using the language you had taught him, feeling confident in putting the vocabulary to good use.

“How about this?” You posed, knowing that you were fully in charge, and it was up to you to make the plan. “We go and check out the art exhibit, and if you behave yourself on this little outing, then you can have whatever you want as a reward when we come back home.”

Spencer’s eyes lit up at this. He seemed highly motivated at the idea of having a ‘reward’.

“What would ‘behaving myself’ entail?” He asked, ever eager to have a set of rules to follow.

“Don’t touch me without permission.” You told him. “Keep your hands to yourself. Don’t nag me or keep asking when we’ll come home and play. And… well, there is one more thing. Something special that you could do for me.”

Spencer’s face knit with confusion at this.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Hold on.” You told him.

Then you got up off the couch and abandoned your newspaper on the coffee table, leaving Spencer nervously fidgeting as he waited for your return. He was surprised when you came back with a bright pink shopping bag - something fairly small and girly. The shop logo on the side wasn’t one that he recognized, so he had no idea what could be inside the bag.

He waited patiently as you stood on the opposite side of the table and put the bag in the middle of it, and peeled back the pink tissue paper to take out the object inside the bag. He was slightly confused when you pulled out a small, delicate pair of lacy pink panties.

When you unfolded them and held them up to display them to him, he easily saw that they would be too small for you, and the confusion racked him even harder. If you hadn’t bought the underwear for yourself then-?

“I wanted you to wear these for me.” You told him, your voice steady. “Under your clothes all day. So just you and I know.”

Instantly, a wave of anxiety swept over Spencer.

You hated the look that came across his face and you tossed the underwear down as he spoke.

“Would - why?” He stuttered out. “Do you think it’s funny or something?”

Spencer hated it, but he was immediately brought back to a time in his childhood. A time when, as a child prodigy in a public high school, he had been forced to take a gym class with a bunch of older teenagers, and forced to change in the same locker room as everyone else, because the coach refused to ‘treat him special’ just because he was ‘a smartass’.

And at the time, he had thought nothing of his Ninja Turtles underpants until the other boys started pointing and laughing at them. They had thought his underwear was so funny, in fact, that they took his clothes, forcing him to walk out into the hallway in nothing but his underwear, fighting to get his clothes back.

Back then, he didn’t understand why someone’s underwear would be funny. But it had changed him and left him guarded and feeling small - even now.

“No, no, no, baby. Of course not.” You rushed to assure him otherwise, sitting down on the coffee table in front of him and putting a tender hand on his knee.

“I would never want to laugh at you. Or humiliate you.” You told him very sincerely.

You distinctly held back the urge to say ‘unless you want me to’. You didn’t think he was ready to know that some people role played humiliation on purpose. That would be for another day.

“Baby, I only wanted to do this because it’s a turn-on for me.” You continued. “But you don’t have to do it if you’re uncomfortable. I don’t want to make you upset or uncomfortable.”

“It - it turns you on?” Spencer’s face knit with intense confusion, contemplating your words carefully.

This was a brand new aspect that - now that it was presented to him, definitely had him processing the concept with fresh eyes.

He knew that films or comedic shows presented the idea of men wearing women’s clothing as a form of public humiliation. Even though during Shakespearan times it was artistic, a beautiful form of theater. In modern times, men were publicly mocked and shamed for parading around in clothing that wasn’t ‘meant’ for them.

Of course, growing up in Las Vegas, he was well aware of the existence of Drag Queens - people who fell somewhere between that Shakespearan theater and the Saturday Night Live style of comedy that was usually straight men wearing dresses. But drag performers dressed up in women’s clothing for money. They did it as a type of paid performance.

No part of Spencer’s mental catalog had any idea that people dressed in clothing that didn’t align with their gender as, well… a fetish.

Spencer imagined himself wearing the underwear - especially knowing that you would be looking at him with a lustful gaze while he wore it, and he felt a distinct tingle in his gut. He felt his mood shifting from anxiety to something warmer, but he was still on edge.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, baby.” You pleaded gently, rubbing your hand on Spencer’s knee. “I know that look. So come on, tell me what’s going on inside that big brain of yours.”

Spencer hadn’t realized that he had been sitting there for a prolonged moment, perhaps more than a few, a look of deep thought cast over his features as he considered all of this.

“I… I don’t hate the idea.” Spencer said tentatively.

He was still timid about his own desires, and he was unsure what it meant that he himself was becoming turned on by the idea of wearing women’s underwear. It was supposed to be a show for you, right? Was he supposed to enjoy it?

“You’re not just saying that because you’re trying to please me?” You replied.

You wanted to be sure that he was comfortable. You wanted to ensure that he knew he could say ‘no’ if he needed to.

Spencer shook his head.

“I - I think I could like it.” He said quietly, clearly shy about his own words. “I think I do. Just… can you tell me more about… why you like it?”

You gave a small grin, always happy to explain these kinds of things to him.

“Well, I think you would look good in them.” You said, being entirely honest. “To me, there’s something profoundly beautiful about the sight of a cock trapped in pretty lace. It’s unconventional and just so… pretty.” You explained, choosing your words carefully.

Spencer felt a unique twist in his gut when you used that word - ‘pretty’.

People had used that word to describe him before, but it always felt like it was teasing, or ironic. But when you said it, it sounded so genuine. It made Spencer want more. It made him want to hear it more because he wanted to feel pretty, especially in your eyes. It was something he had never wanted in his life before. It exponentially boosted his desire to wear those panties for you - if that would make him pretty to you, then he would certainly do it.

But he held back on voicing that for now, and simply let you continue.

“Plus, I do enjoy the idea of the two of us having a secret.” You told him. “The fact that you would be wearing those pretty panties under your clothes and we would be the only two people who know.”

Spencer definitely understood that. He liked sharing secrets with you.

It was how he felt all week - entirely filthy and victorious as he wielded his secret from everyone else. Having the knowledge that he had sex with you and the two of you were going about your days without anybody else knowing it. Sure, part of him wanted to brag to Morgan about it for some kind of social standing. But the bigger part of him much preferred the satisfaction of that secret. Having that secret side of you all to himself.

“But like I said, you don’t have to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. You don’t have to do it just to please me.” You reiterated the point, entirely open with him.

“You really think I’m pretty?” Spencer asked quietly.

You found it adorable that he had become fixated on this word, clearly slightly distracted from the overall point.

“Yes.” You assured him. “You’re very pretty. You’re one of the most attractive people I’ve ever met, Spence.” You reached up and brushed your knuckles gently across his cheek, and he shivered lightly at the touch in combination with the brutally honest praise.

“Thank you.” He said, giving you a small smile. Then, he had a thought. “Can - can I try them on, and then… see how I feel? Before wearing them for the rest of the day?” He asked, nodding toward where you had set down the pink lacy panties.

It was such a brilliant idea - you weren’t sure how you hadn’t thought of it yourself first.

“Of course, baby. That’s a really good idea.” You nodded. “Do you want to go in the other room and put them on, or do you want me to help you?”

He found a warmth curling in his stomach at the idea of you helping him get dressed, and he absolutely couldn’t deny that offer.

“Can you help me?” He asked, looking at you with the sweetest doe eyes. You resisted the urge to simply climb on top of him, kiss the life out of him and make him cum again.

No. Today was going to be about making him wait. Making him needy - making him truly want.

“Okay, baby, stand up for me.”

Of course, he thrived on you giving him orders, so he did just as you told him without any hesitation.

He stood up in front of you and you guided him around the coffee table to have more room. He was wearing such a perfectly Spencer outfit - a navy blue knitted sweater vest with a button up shirt underneath, a pair of gray slacks with a brown belt, and his usual mismatched socks (one red with navy stripes and the other dark gray). He also had a gray blazer that he had ditched on the back of one of your kitchen chairs shortly after coming in.

It was interesting to know that even on his days off, Spencer still wore such ‘business’ clothing. But you supposed that it was all his wardrobe was made up of, because he likely didn’t consider it appropriate to leave the house in his loungewear.

In a lot of ways, much like everything else that he did - it was intensely adorable.

You put your hands on his belt and undid it, and unzipped his pants - when you slid them down over his thighs, you weren’t surprised to see that he was wearing the most Spencer kind of underwear: a pair of plain white briefs. He was half-hard, making a prominent shape in the cotton that caused you to hold back a wicked grin.

“I’m sorry, my underwear isn’t… sexy.” He said, his arms hovering awkwardly around his front as he clearly considered covering himself but hesitated in doing so.

“Don’t apologize, baby.” You said, getting down on your knees to take his pants the rest of the way down and untangle them from his ankles. Naturally, he put a hand on your shoulder and stepped out of them, a flush coming over him at how intimate the entire thing felt.

“That’s why I got these special just for you,” You told him, reaching over and grabbing the panties, holding them up for emphasis.

“You did?” He questioned.

You had taken the tags off shortly before presenting the underwear to him, and even though you had brought them out in a shopping bag, it wasn’t something he had considered. You had bought something like this with him in mind. This was the second time you had gone shopping and gotten him a special present and he couldn’t help but to feel so lovingly spoiled by you.

“I did.” You confirmed with a smile, looking up at him in a way that made him melt.

“Thank you, Miss.” He couldn’t help the title from spilling from his lips, and it immediately made your pussy throb with need.

Once again, you forced yourself to focus.

“I’m gonna take these off now, okay?” You said, reaching up and thumbing along the waistband of his underwear.

Spencer nodded.

“Use your words, please.” You reminded him sharply.

“Yes, Miss.” He said, nodding more frantically.

You took down his briefs and his cock swayed in the air - clearly on the way to being fully hard, smooth and beautiful. You found it adorable that his pubes were still entirely untamed. You loved that even after you had started showing sexual interest in him, he hadn’t felt the need to rush to groom himself. You preferred him like this, especially because the imagery of that bush entirely slick with his own cum would always be stuck in your mind, and you definitely wanted to recreate it again.

You were tempted to get a hand on his cock, to tease him. To get him to full hardness, making him leaking and whining and then force him to go out for a full day of activities. But he was still new to this and you weren’t that mean.

That, and you had a feeling that because it was Spencer, if he started begging you to cum, if he said ‘please’ in that pretty voice again, then you would most likely just give in to him and your whole plan would be ruined. Rather than going to the museum, you would simply spend the day with him tied to the bed and incoherent.

But you wanted to see how far you could truly push him if he was needy. If he was absolutely desperate. And a few hours of your attention directed away from him when he wanted it most (focusing on paintings rather than on pleasing him) along with rough lace scrubbing up against his cock should do very nicely.

You pulled the underwear down fully and just the same as you had with his pants, unhooked them from his ankles, leaving him fully dressed from the waist up, still wearing his socks. Then you picked up the panties again - you had chosen something that was aesthetically pleasing, and hopefully not too uncomfortable for him. It wasn’t anywhere near a thong in the back, but you knew that it would be snug on his cock - just what you were hoping for.

The moment that Spencer felt the lace brush against his skin, he was greeted by a brand new experience. He always chose his clothing based on the comfort of the fabrics - and he had certainly never worn anything with this kind of underlying roughness to it.

When you pulled it fully up over his hips and gently tucked his cock inside the waistband, he did find it thrilling. The fabric created a slightly irritated pain across his highly sensitive cock, and a tightness around his balls, but he found that in a way, he liked it. It was truly all brand new, and though he knew that the feeling was going to become an annoyance after a while, he was curious about the sexual aspects of it. He found that he wanted more.

Especially when he saw the look on your face.

Spencer looked utterly stunning like this. Infinitely better than you could have imagined. Seeing his half-hard cock trapped behind the pink lace as it was stretched over his slim hips almost had you drooling. You knew that the lust was clearly written across your face, and you couldn’t help but to reach up and gently stroke his cock through the fabric, getting a low moan from him.

“How does it feel, baby?” You asked, looking up at him from where you were still positioned on your knees.

With your warm hand on him through the fabric, with you looking at him like he was the most perfect thing in the world, there was only one possible answer.

“Good.” He easily replied. “Really good.”

You smiled at him. “Do you wanna keep them on for the day?”

“Yes, Miss.” He nodded eagerly. Truthfully, he was excited to see where the day would take the two of you.

You helped him put the rest of his clothes back on, then you sat him on the couch to wait for you so that you could go get dressed for the day. You found it entirely adorable when he wiggled around on the spot, clearly adjusting to the new feeling of wearing such tight, lacy panties.

Spencer felt even more intense lustful warmth wash over him when you returned in a flowy red dress with small white polka dots on it. It was a dress with a deep V neck and a tie around the waist, one that looked like it wrapped around your whole body. It accentuated your curves so well, making you look like a gorgeous Hollywood starlet.

You had on a pair of red heels and had a red purse with a long strap on your shoulder. You were truly a vision of beauty. He felt like he shouldn’t be allowed to go out in public with you, especially because people would see the two of you and assume that you were on a date.

(Was it a date? How the hell was he allowed to date someone as perfect as you?)

“And remember, baby. If you’re a good boy all day, then you can have a reward.” You told him, putting your foot up on the coffee table to adjust the strap of your shoe, not-so-subtly flashing him your underwear with how open and flowy the skirt of your dress was.

Spencer was brain dead by the sight for a moment, but then thought to ask:

“What kind of reward?”

“Well… whatever you want. You can pick.” You told him. “As long as you follow the rules.”

Oh, it was going to be a good day.

…

It seemed that your plan worked far better than you originally expected.

When the two of you first got into the museum, Spencer’s hands kept hovering around his waist, clearly resisting the urge to grab at his pants, to try and adjust the panties through his clothing. You combated this by grabbing one of his hands, and kept him busy by prompting him with questions about the paintings as you toured the non-Van Gogh sections of the museum for a while.

At times, Spencer became a bit too fixated on whatever he was saying, and you felt an eagerness to distract him from the art. As much as you enjoyed listening to him ramble on and always learned something from the sound of his sweet, soothing voice, you did have another goal in mind.

When he became a bit too immersed in his thoughts and recollection about whatever art history books he had read, you would provide him with some kind of physical touch that sent his mind absolutely rocketing off the rails, and sent his mouth sputtering as he tried to remember what he had been saying.

You would reach over and wrap your arms around his waist, possibly brushing your hand over his cock on the way. You might wrap an arm around his lower back and lean into his body, purposefully pressing your weight up against his side, letting him feel every single curve that you had to offer. You began to feel more bold as you wanted to get more of a reaction out of him, and you even reached up and planted stray kisses on the side of his neck, behind his ear.

As time progressed, his insights about the paintings became much more shallow, and he began to fidget more. You knew that he was growing intensely needy, and you loved it.

By the time the two of you got to the exhibit with Van Gogh’s original sketches that had drawn you to the museum in the first place, Spencer was oddly pensive and quiet. You let the silence linger as you carefully planned your next move.

Spencer interrupted the peaceful silence with his gentle, prodding voice.

“Be clearly aware of the stars and infinity on high. Then life seems almost enchanted after all.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, turning to look at him.

“It was something Vincent Van Gogh said.” He noted, turning to look at you, mirroring your body language. “It means - well, I think it means that… that life can be full of trauma and darkness, but if you take the time to observe the beauties of your life, and realize how there are simplistic wonders all around us, then… the darkness doesn’t seem so big. The everyday parts of life can seem enchanting.”

You reached up and gently brushed Spencer’s hair back from his forehead, eagerly listening to his sweet voice as he spoke.

You knew - consciously or unconsciously - he was also speaking about the way that you made each other’s lives enchanting. Your job was full of darkness and horror, and it would be easy to fall to it. But you lifted each other up, and became that everyday enchantment that the other person needed.

Spencer’s eyes pointedly flickered down to your lips and then back up to your eyes before he continued.

“Van Gogh was famous for painting pictures of everyday sights. Flower vases, scenes from his village. The Starry Night was painted because he imagined that the stars above his village were a sure sign that God himself came down every single night to kiss the sky there. He didn’t see the mundane as simply… mundane. He saw it as beautiful and worth celebrating.” Spencer explained.

“You’re beautiful.” You easily fired back, and Spencer crumbled under the direct compliment.

In a moment, his cheeks dusted with pink and his posture shrunk. Where he was confident and tall when speaking about art history, he became small as he was trapped under your gaze, absolutely unsure how to take the compliment - especially as it was directed toward his looks. Especially as it made him feel oddly pretty.

When his eyes jumped back up from looking at the floor, his gaze was locked on your mouth once again. He tugged on the bottom of his blazer, and you could tell that he was becoming fidgety and anxious.

His anticipation was easily growing into need.

And so was yours.

Without telling him what was on your mind, you scanned the room. You thought you had seen something of note when you first walked into this section of the museum - and surely enough, in one of the corners, there was a thick black curtain covering a doorway. A curtain that had an ‘Employees Only’ sign pinned to it. Perhaps it led to some kind of storage closet, perhaps it led to another winding hallway.

Whatever was behind there, you were about to find out.

“Come here.” You told him, giving a gentle tug on his elbow that you were holding.

Naturally, entranced by your every movement and having nothing but the ability to follow you - Spencer walked on easy feet, guided by you as you marched across the room with purpose. He thought perhaps you had seen a painting that particularly caught your interest across the room, or that you were finally ready to leave and it was time to go home and get his reward.

But what happened next, he certainly did not expect.

You pulled him toward a dark curtain that was labeled with a sign - Employees Only.

Last time he checked, you hadn’t gotten a job at a museum.

He found himself slightly filled with anxiety at this fact, but you seemed entirely unfazed.

You simply pulled back the curtain and used Spencer’s anxious confusion to your advantage. You shoved him in first before he could question you, and then you climbed in yourself and carefully adjusted the fabric so it would seem completely undisturbed.

The area behind the curtain seemed to be nothing more than a long hallway with a few doors. It was clearly a lesser traveled area of the museum - a few of the lightbulbs overhead blown out and not replaced, the floor dingy and dusty. Perhaps those doors led to storage rooms or the place’s security facilities - but either way, the two of you weren’t supposed to be here.

His insides filled with panic at the idea of getting caught.

“Y/N-!” He called out your name harshly, but you cut him off by putting a hand in the middle of his chest and shoving him back against the wall.

Hitting the wall easily knocked the wind out of him. It was a surprising amount of force - you were much stronger than you looked. Of course, he had seen you take down suspects before. He had witnessed you tackle grown men to the grown with ease and marveled in awe at your strength, but you had never used that kind of force on him. He had never imagined what it would be like.

He found that it turned him on more than he could have imagined. The presence of your hand fisting the front of his sweater vest spread a dizzying heat through his body. He stared at you with parted lips and a slacked jaw as the lust and shock overtook him.

“Are you gonna be good for me?” You asked.

You stood away from him for a moment, removing your hands from him completely and leaving a few inches of space between your two bodies in the dim, dingy space.

You were giving him a clear opportunity to use his safeword if he truly wasn’t comfortable with fooling around in such a public space.

“We - we’re gonna get caught!” He whispered urgently to you, his voice hushed but still strained at the very thought of it.

You found it entirely adorable - how scandalized he was by this. You had done far worse and you hoped that you could get him to sink to your level over time.

“You let me worry about that, pretty boy.” You told him firmly. “Now - are you gonna be good for me?”

You asked one more time, your voice demanding and hopefully fully relaying the meaning of your words.

Spencer had a choice.

And with you standing there, staring him down with heat in your eyes, looking like such a vision of lustful beauty, when he had been waiting so long for your touch, for your attention… it wasn’t much of a choice at all.

He only wanted you.

“Yes.” He squeaked out quietly, swallowing thickly around his own doubt. “Yes, I’ll be a good boy.”

You grinned a wide Cheshire grin at his words, and in a moment, you were on him.

You possessively gripped at both sides of his blazer, easily bending him to your will. You surged forward and met him as you forced his body to bend downward, capturing his mouth in a demanding, heated kiss.

It was a tiny murmur in the back of your mind, reminding you that this was actually your first kiss with Spencer. You had already seen him naked and made him cum, and you were just now getting to taste his sweet lips. It was a funny thought.

In that moment, any worry about potentially getting caught easily flew from Spencer’s mind - any logic quickly dripped out of his ears.

He moaned beautifully into your mouth, and as you echoed a sound back, you had to wonder why you hadn’t kissed him sooner. He seemed to be a natural at it - or, this was the one thing that he had some real practice at. Which you were entirely thankful for. His lips were smooth against your own, heated and desperate, surging forward with intense gyrating motions - almost as if he was trying to consume you with his intense hunger.

Though in a moment, he easily fell under your control.

You reached a hand up to the back of his hair and took a tight grip there, holding him like he was a beautiful object that you owned, just a toy for you to play with. He let out a sharp whine from the back of his throat, and his jaw fell slack for a moment, allowing you to bite down on his bottom lip - hard, assuring him who was in charge.

The shock of pain from the bite had his hips bucking forward, and surely enough, you felt him fully hard, brushing against your hip through both of your clothing. He whined even sharper as he felt the roughness of the lace pressing against his cock, brushing against him with more force as he humped himself against you. It stung roughly and sent beautiful shocks of pleasure pulsing through him.

“What do you want, pretty boy?” You breathed against his lips.

Still desperate, needy for contact, he left a sloppy kiss on your chin before he spoke to answer the question.

“C-Can I touch you?” He whimpered out quietly. “Please.”

Your lips formed a wicked grin against him at this.

“Anything over my clothes.” You told him. When his hands still hung limply at his sides, you threw in some encouragement. “Come on, baby, touch me.”

You did have to wonder if he would have been bold enough to reach under the hemline of your dress - even if you hadn’t given him explicit permission. You wondered what he would have done if his fingers had gotten as far as your underwear. But with your instructions, he had full access to your ass and breasts and you were curious to see what he would do within the rules.

You dove in for another kiss, boldly possessing his mouth with a commanding strength once again. He whimpered against your lips and - feeling as needy as he was, he eagerly followed your instructions and began feeling you up over your clothing. His hands started out humbly on your hips as your experienced, certain lips battled against his needy, rapid ones. But soon enough, he became anxious and impatient with simply grabbing on your love handles through the cotton of your dress, and he needed more.

You yanked on his hair again and took advantage of his gasp-parted lips to shove your tongue into his mouth, your body pressed firmly against his with him leaning against the wall for support. His hands began to eagerly wander, consuming your flesh for the first time and truly getting a taste of what it was like to not just be commanded by you, but what it was like to be with you.

He began grabbing the roundness of your ass in needy handfuls, his touch truly exploratory - he didn’t touch you with any skill, didn’t touch you like he was trying to get you heated and turned on. He touched you because he wanted to touch your body, badly. He was simply displaying his own hungry need for you without even considering shame in doing so.

And that was something that caused you to moan into his mouth as you raked your tongue along his teeth. He even reached a hand up and shoved it between your two bodies, groping at your breast with absolutely no grace. He was digging his fingers into the flesh like he was trying to rip it off your body and possess it entirely. It was something so filled with need that it made you so damn hot, made your cunt ache between your thighs.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to end the day without cumming - whether it be with his help or simply having him watch and beg to touch you.

You had so many plans for him. And you couldn’t wait to see them all play out before your eyes.

You felt his erection against your leg, throbbing with just as much need, and you felt that devilish urge rise up inside of you again.

You pulled away from his lips with a wet smack, the realization hitting you once again that - yes, technically, you were in a public setting. The thought sent a thrill through you, but you had to be at least somewhat careful, lest you get caught.

“You like touching me, baby?” You cooed against his cheek.

“Yes, Miss.” He breathed out.

When you opened your eyes partially, you had to contain a gasp.

His glasses were fogged up.

Just like something out of your fantasies, his glasses were clouded with steam from the heated exchange. But he didn’t seem to notice or care. From what you could see through the layer of dew, his eyes were screwed shut and he was far too focused on his lust. He was concentrating more on groping your breast with one hand and your ass with the other, giving small, aborted humps against your hip, clearly trying not to cum in his pants.

Oh god. You wanted to see him cum in his pants. Badly.

And it was rare that you didn’t get what you wanted.

“You want me to touch you?” You asked, nosing along his long, beautiful neck.

“Should - should we go home first?” He asked quietly.

Clearly, he was still afraid of getting caught.

“Hey, shh.” You breathed against his skin, causing him to shudder. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. You let me do all the thinking, baby. Just answer the question,”

“Yes.” He moaned quietly. “I want-”

You didn’t let him finish, and cut him off with another heated kiss.

You distracted him with this, and he whimpered sharply against your lips the moment your hand was on him.

You groped his cock harshly through his pants, your hand skilled in a direct contrast to the way his touch was clumsy and only fueled by need. You knew exactly what you were doing, knew exactly how to drive him where he needed to go.

Your demanding touch closed the pink lace of the panties roughly around the sensitive skin of his cock. The feeling of it - being reminded of his little filthy secret, the thing that the two of you shared. That, on top of the fact that he had already been so close from the thrill of getting to touch you and grope you freely for the first time - that set him off so damn easily.

He didn’t have a moment to warn you that he was cumming or ask for permission. The only warning you got was a pathetic choked off moan that came from the back of his throat before his hips jolted into your hand, and the stuttering movement of his legs was a sure sign to you that he had cum inside his pants.

You pulled away from his lips to admire your work.

His face was nicely flushed, continuing to add to the fog clouding up the lenses of his glasses. His hair was entirely messy and tousled, giving an absolutely sex crazed look to him even though he still had all his clothes on - clothes that were wrinkled and messy, adding even more to the look. His pants with a slight damp spot forming on the crotch as his load soaked through the thin fabric of the panties and began to soak into his pants as well. You couldn’t help but to give his sensitive cock an extra little squeeze through his pants, causing him to whimper harshly and shake at the touch.

You loved seeing him so fucked out and pathetic.

“I - I’m sorry!” He immediately began to apologize, reaching to pull down his vest in an effort to cover his crotch, as though wanting to hide the evidence of his orgasm that was rapidly soaking into his clothes. “I’m sorry, Miss!”

Of course, he thought he had made some grievous misstep but breaking the rule - by not asking permission before he had cum. When it was something you had been gunning for, wanting him to cum for you.

“Hey, shh, shh, it’s okay baby.” You murmured against his skin. “It’s okay.”

Before he could think too hard about it or get too swept up in his emotions (and frankly, before the two of you could get caught in such a state) - you grabbed one of his hands and then dragged him out of the museum completely. You barely slowed from a brisk walk until the two of you got back to the car. Even with Spencer holding his vest down over his crotch out of embarrassment, if anyone took a second look at his wrecked hair, dewey glasses and kiss-swollen lips, they absolutely would have known what had happened to him, and you loved the thought of it.

…

You spent the entire ride home assuring him that he had done nothing wrong.

It took a lot of soothing from your voice and a few well placed gropes to his crotch over the car’s console with your other hand on the wheel. This got him hard again, made him distracted from beating himself up for not being able to follow the rules explicitly. Instead, now he was focused on the way his throbbing cock felt swimming around in his own cum-soaked underwear.

He didn’t need to feel guilty for not following the rules. You didn’t intend to punish him for breaking that rule, because he had just been too pretty while breaking it. Besides - you couldn’t imagine spanking someone so soft and new.

You couldn’t imagine saying no to him.

In all honesty, you kind of hated yourself for going soft. This would be the first time since you had become a dom that you hadn’t punished a sub for breaking a rule. But this wasn’t just any sub, this was Spencer. You couldn’t explain why, but he was just allowed to get away with things. He deserved to be spoiled.

By the time you did get home, Spencer was breathless and filled to the brim with need once again. If his tears had been from self punishment and guilt at first, they were now from sheer need. He was desperately wringing his hands in his lap to keep from pawing at you because he felt that he had not been given permission to do so during the car ride.

When you pulled into your parking spot, he looked over at you through his now clearer glasses lenses with big, wanting eyes.

“You’re sure that you’re not mad, Miss?” He asked quietly, giving an adorably dramatic sniffle.

“I am absolutely not mad, baby.” You told him. “It’s difficult to ever be mad at you when you’re so damn pretty.” You ‘booped’ his nose at this, and the smile he gave was so genuine that it made your insides glow with pride. “Now, what do you say we get you out of those soiled clothes and into something more comfortable?”

“I - I didn’t bring a bag.” He said, looking over to his car across the lot longingly.

“You didn’t bring a bag to the sleepover?” You cooed. “How silly, baby.” Spencer looked entirely downtrodden, as though all of his plans for the day were ruined. “I’m sure that I can find something for you to wear.”

This conjured up a delightful image in your mind of him wearing more lingerie. But no, you needed to find him something comfortable instead. He had been good, and he deserved to be rewarded for it. You were sure that despite the size difference, he would be able to fit into some of your pajama pants with the waist tie knotted up a few times. Hopefully the waistband wouldn’t absolutely fall off him.

He seemed more upbeat at this, and the two of you got out of the car and went up to your apartment, Spencer easily following your lead, as always. He carried your purse loyally, something you found to be a covert turn-on. You liked seeing the subtle ways he could serve you.

When you got up to your apartment, you tossed your keys into the bowl where you normally kept them, and Spencer made a point of hanging the long strap of your bag on the coat rack - something you found so entirely cute.

You then took Spencer to the kitchen to get him a glass of water to help him calm down. The entire time he drank it, you gently stroked his hair and told him what a good boy he was. This seemed to relax him entirely, which satisfied you on a deep level.

Then, you grabbed his hand and steered him in the direction of the bathroom to help him clean up. With his shoes already ditched near the front door, you peeled off his blazer and threw it over the back of the couch along the way, not giving him a moment to speak about hanging it up ‘properly’ or whatever else was gonna come out of his mouth before you bustled him along to the next room.

In your quaint apartment, the bathroom was at the end of the hallway, and he caught a small glimpse into your bedroom before you continued shoving him down the hall. He saw twinkling lights and pink silken sheets and felt his stomach tingle - it was nothing like he had imagined it, but he kind of loved that.

Your bathroom was just as entracing.

The tiles were pearlescent blue - obviously vintage, along with a clawfoot tub to match, and you had decorated everything with quite a beautiful sense of style to match. A floral blue shower curtain, a fuzzy blue bath mat, and a small golden cart in the corner holding all of your different products. Spencer had the urge to pick up the bottles and start smelling them, wondering if he could get more of your amazing scent right from the source, or if it was the unique, distinct combination of those products along with your natural skin oils that made you so intoxicating.

You shut the door gently behind the two of you when you got him into the small room. He found himself pressed right up against the counter of the small bathroom vanity, his back to the ornate mirror and your back to the door. This left only a few inches of space between your two bodies as you looked up at him with a gentle, sweet expression.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” You told him.

Spencer smiled at you.

“And then, after you’re all nice and clean, I think you can have your reward.” You told him, your voice low and dripping with decadent promise. “You were a very good boy today.”

“I was?” He said eagerly.

Then, after a moment, he realized that he shouldn’t be questioning it. Because it was against the rules to question your judgment, and because you had just told him that he was deserving of a reward.

“I mean - yeah, I was.” He quickly corrected himself, trying to sound confident in this statement.

You let out a soft chuckle at this. Then, you gently grabbed his chin and pulled him into a soft, sweet kiss.

“You were, baby.” You told him confidently. “You were a very good boy today.”

You absolutely adored the look on his face as you said this. His features became so soft and hazy, almost as if he was drunk. Clearly he was so high on the praise, loving knowing that he had behaved well for you, that you were giving him your stamp of approval and that he was about to be well rewarded for it.

“Do you know what you want as your reward?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside of you.

Spencer’s eyes filled with equal parts glee and contemplation. This was such a mighty question.

As the question hung in the air, you reached up and gently took off his glasses, placing them on the counter beside the sink. As good as he looked in them, you didn’t want to accidentally knock them off his face and break them while you were stripping him out of his clothes. You then reached for the bottom of his sweater vest, still reeking with curiosity as to how he would answer the question.

He imagined all kinds of things - one of the obvious ones was of course, sex. Full blown intercourse. But something deep inside of him told him that he wasn’t sure if he was quite ready for that. Part of him feared ‘messing up’ and still felt self conscious - like he should perform well and impress you, even though you quite clearly took the lead and hadn’t been unimpressed with anything from him so far.

Deep down, he did know that his first time would be comfortable, safe, and beautiful if it was with you. And truthfully, he didn’t want it to be with anyone else. He couldn’t picture his first time having intercourse if it wasn’t with you in his ear, cooing about what a good boy he was.

But still, he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

You got the vest off over his head, humming a calming tune quietly under your breath - a sign showing him that you were okay with the quiet, giving him time to contemplate his answer. As much time as he needed. You got to work on the buttons of his shirt, slowly and delicately undressing him as though he were a precious doll. It was something that caused goosebumps to form across his skin.

He thought more about it.

So - he didn’t want to ask for intercourse.

He definitely wanted to touch you more. He liked touching you - he loved touching you. He definitely wanted permission to touch you under your clothes, to explore your naked body. He thought it might be silly to simply ask for his reward to be ‘touch naked breasts please’. You might find that silly.

No, he could do better than that.

When you began to peel the sleeves of the shirt off his shoulders and it caused a quiet shiver through him, that’s when it struck him.

“I know.” He said quietly. “I know now.”

“You know what you want your reward to be, baby?” You prodded gently, gathering the fabric of the shirt in your hands and tossing it into the laundry basket behind you.

Perhaps you would get up early the next morning and do a load of laundry to wash his clothes so he could have something to wear home. You were struck with the vision of him wearing a pair of your sweatpants and one of your big comfortable tee-shirts walking back to his apartment from your car. You wondered - if the two of you were going to continue having these ‘sleepovers’ if you should clear a drawer for him to keep some clothes at your place and vice versa. That seemed far too domestic in your mind, but it just made good sense, didn’t it?

You were snapped out those thoughts when Spencer finally gave you his answer.

“I want to give you pleasure.” He breathed out quietly. “You’ve given me pleasure. I want to pleasure you.”

His choice of words was somehow utterly adorable and spine-tingling at the same time. He sounded like a dreamy paperback smut novel come to life. But as you reached for the buckle of his belt to continue undressing him, you had to ask for clarification, just to be sure.

“What do you mean by that, Spence?” You asked, punctuating the sentence with the click of the belt buckle.

“I -”

He let out a hot breath as you pulled his belt completely from the loops and let it fall to the bathroom floor with a quiet ‘clunk’. His next words were paired with the sound of the zipper teeth on his trousers coming down.

“I want to give you an orgasm.” He let out a quiet whimper when your hand grazed his dick as you worked the fly of the pants apart. “I want you to teach me.” He said quietly, his voice a lot weaker as he became dizzy with pleasure once again.

“You want me to teach you, huh?” You purred.

You became temporarily distracted from this thought when you peeled his pants down further and the most delicious sight was revealed to you. His cock, half hard and still trapped inside the pink lace - which was now stuck to his shaft completely with his own cum. Just as you had imagined in your fantasies, it was absolutely wet. Slick like a pretty pink floral second skin as it sat below his waistline, making his sticky pubes and his sensitive cock look even more sinful while he sat marinating in his own load.

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached forward and greedily groped his cock through the lace. You went so far as to trap the sensitive pink cockhead between your fingers and wring the roughness of the fabric around it, knowing that it would get a reaction out of him. Spencer sobbed with overwhelming pleasure and bucked his hips forward, such a beautifully broken sound. When you continued the motion, he surged a hand up to grab your wrist as he twisted his body slightly away from you - clearly overstimulated.

You stopped the roughness in exchange for a gentle petting of your fingertips, and you leaned in to nose across the skin of his neck once again.

You surprised yourself when your next words flew out of your mouth, almost without restraint.

“Hey, shh. It’s okay, Mommy’s just looking.” You told him in a hushed tone.

The moment that the word escaped your lips - Mommy - your gut dropped with crippling fear. You thought that he would hate it or become disgusted by it. But he let out another whimper, and when you looked into his eyes, you were met with nothing but a sharp burning and a reckoning that he had absolutely no clue he would have liked to call you that up until then.

You left the air blank for a moment, giving him time to adjust - time to back down from it if he wanted to. Or time to rise to it if he wanted it just as badly as you did.

“M-?” He squeaked out, and you gave him patience. “Mommy?” He said quietly, testing the waters.

He found that a warmth washed over him, and he liked it far more than he thought he would have.

Your breath caught in your throat and you held back a moan. Your muscles shook slightly as you resisted the urge to jump him - to make him say it again, with more desperation, with more lust. There would be plenty of time for that, you told yourself.

“Yes, baby?” You answered quietly.

“Can I take them off now?” He asked, referring to the panties feeling damp and cold and uncomfortable on his skin at this point. “You said you had some pajamas for me?”

You smiled at him. “I’ll take these off and clean you up a bit and then I’ll get you some pjs. Okay, baby?”

He nodded.

“Yes, M-Mommy.” He stuttered slightly, still wearing in the nickname - but he loved it.

He loved how it was warm and comfortable and familiar, and much less formal than calling you ‘Miss’.

‘Miss’ was a nice teacher, someone good at making rules, but ‘Mommy’ was someone he could make a home out of. At least he hoped that’s what the two of you were doing. ‘Mommy’ didn’t seem too strict about the rules, and honestly, Spencer liked that.

You helped him peel out of his slightly wet pants and completely ruined, soaked underwear. (You would definitely be washing those for a future use.) You tossed both items into the hamper, and then peeled off his cute (once again mismatched) socks and tossed those aside too before you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it with warm water to clean him off with.

The entire time you wiped down his cock, he let out sweet whimpers and gently bumped into your touch. By the end, it was almost difficult to keep him clean, because his cock was fully hard and leaking precum slightly as you smoothed the warm cloth over his lower tummy and made sure to gently clean off his balls. It was oddly adorable, him making a mess faster than you could clean it up.

When you were satisfied with this, you tossed the cloth into the sink and gave him a kiss on the cheek, telling him that you would be back shortly with a change of clothes for him.

It was only when he was standing alone in the bathroom that he felt exposed - only then realizing how truly well… naked he actually was. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to be embarrassed by it as he awaited your return.

After what felt like far too many minutes for his taste, you returned with something pink and soft looking in your hands.

The panties had been surprising, and while itchy, had made him feel… oddly pretty. He would be hesitant to admit it aloud, but you were already making him grow to like the color pink and how it made him feel.

You unfolded the piece of clothing and held it up for him to look at. It was a pair of long pajama pants that obviously belonged to you. (Spencer worried that the waistband would be too large for him, even with the tie that was available). They were made of a silken, soft material that seemed like it would be very light and comfortable to wear. They were a rosy pink color, very girly and feminine. Very pretty. He also noticed that you hadn’t brought a shirt for him, but he supposed that he didn’t have to worry too much about that. You had already seen him naked. Twice now.

“Good?” You posed.

Spencer nodded. “Thank you.” He said, giving you a small smile.

He felt that warmth coming over him once again when you helped him step into the pants and even pulled the fabric up over his body, going so far as to secure the tie around his waist, making sure the loose fabric wouldn’t fall off his hips. The thin, very unforgiving fabric easily showed every single detail of his cock through it - his hardness now perfectly outlined in pink, which only made the heat growing under your skin swell to a dangerous level.

Lastly, you grabbed his glasses off the counter and put them back on his face, making sure that he would be able to see fully and pay attention during his next ‘lesson’.

“There.” You said, giving him another sweet kiss on the lips. “Mommy’s good boy is all clean.” Spencer preened at these words. “And pretty as a picture.”

You delighted in the obvious blush that this last comment drew from him. You couldn’t help it - you loved praising him so sweetly, especially if it drew those kinds of reactions from him.

“Now, baby, I want you to go sit on the couch and wait for me.” You told him gently. “I have to go and put on something a little more comfortable for myself.”

You held back a devilish smirk. Of course, he had to think that this would mean you were going to put on some casual cotton pajamas - something genuinely comfortable and not at all a fulfillment to the male fantasy. And sure, you felt comfortable in lingerie. It made you feel beautiful.

That was part of the reason you were going to do it.

That, and you felt the need to make everything special for Spencer. This was going to be the first time he saw you in such a state of undress. Of course, you could argue that him seeing you in your panties and camisole a few nights ago had been pretty much the same, and he had looked upon you like you were a goddess then. But it had been practically dark then and you wanted this to be well lit and truly a fantasy come to life for him.

“Yes, Mommy.” He said, giving a small nod.

He left and walked out to the living room, going to sit on the couch as you had instructed, and you felt a delightful mischievous streak as you went into your bedroom and picked out what you would wear.

As you got dressed, you thought more about what he had said.

He wanted to give you an orgasm.

It would be very nice to have him inside of you. He had one of the nicest cocks you had ever seen - he was so long and beautiful, and seeing him inside of the fleshlight had caused you to imagine what he would feel like inside of you.

But you knew that if you let him fuck you, he would be clumsy. He didn’t have the technique or experience. Or the stamina. That was definitely something you wanted to work on first. And with how he had reacted from cumming in his pants earlier that day - something you had wanted, he likely would have a crash and be terribly anxious if he came while fucking you and you didn’t get to cum first.

Making you cum seemed to be his primary goal.

That brought you to the thought of putting him on his back - riding him, essentially using him like a human dildo. It would be intensely hot - having him below you, completely at your mercy. Getting to listen to his moans and whines and getting to see him completely fucked out underneath you while his perfect cock throbbed deep inside of your pussy. It would be perfect.

But - he wouldn’t learn anything that way. If he wanted to learn how to make you cum, it certainly wouldn’t happen like that. He would be fucked stupid and you would cum, and you would certainly enjoy yourself. But he would be brain dead and cum drunk. He certainly wouldn’t learn or retain anything from the experience.

No - if he wanted to learn how to make you cum, and if he wanted to put his genius to good use, then there was one certain way to do it.

You were fully satisfied with your plan. You took one last look in the mirror, and you were fully satisfied with your look, too.

You had put on a push-up bra with a black and red lace pattern, something that displayed your breasts well. With the padding and the ‘push-up’ effect, it definitely gave the cartoonish, fantasy effect that you were going for. You had on the matching garter belt, which had a few lacy roses adoring it. You didn’t have it attached to anything, though you had considered wearing stockings, you didn’t think Spencer would like the texture of them. You thought he would much prefer to feel your naked skin against him. You simply liked the look of the garter belt hanging around your waist, accenting the plushness of your stomach.

You also put on a pair of the matching lacy black and red floral panties - they were fairly cheeky, letting half of your ass hang out, and fairly sheer so that your trimmed pubic hair could be seen through the fabric in the front. And lastly, you had thrown on a sheer, long black robe over the whole thing, giving a very ‘Moulin Rouge’ look to the whole thing. Along with a pair of six black heels - the kind that hurt your feet and you would only use to, well - go to bed and keep your legs above your head while wearing.

You looked like a sex dream, if you did say so yourself.

Rather than walking into the other room to get Spencer, you went over to your bed and propped yourself up on some pillows in the middle of it, making sure the fabric of your robe was billowing and appealing around you before you called out to him.

“Spencer, honey, I’m ready!” You called out. “You can come in now!”

You heard him coming down the hallway and you swelled with eagerness, almost too excited to see what his reaction would be.

When he pushed the door open, he immediately froze when his eyes were met with the sight of you.

Standing in the doorway put him right at the foot of your bed, and he thought for sure - at some point between here and the museum, he must have died and gone to heaven. Framed by the twinkling lights that were wrapped around the head of your bed, propped up on a variety of fluffy pillows - you were an image of perfection.

Your breasts were pushed up to your chin, especially with the angle you were laying at, so perfectly framed by the floral lace of your bra. There was so much for his eye to greedily consume, and he didn’t think he should be allowed to consume it all so shamelessly. The curved planes of your body, the beautiful, soft zig-zags of your stretch marks, like guides laid out for his tongue. The fabric showing just enough skin, showing off every curve of your womanly body, so thick and ready to dominate him at a moment’s notice.

There was a gentle power in the way you were lounging back, framed by the black, soft fabric of your billowing robe - your whole body relaxed as you waited for him. It made him want to press his forehead to the floor in a bow to you, made him want to beg just for the precious permission to touch you.

“Is - that-? Your-? Paja-mas-?” He squeaked out, every single word becoming a pitch higher, making his shock all the more apparent.

“Kind of.” You told him with a giggle. “This is what I wanted to wear for my good boy.”

“You - you wore this for me?” He swallowed thickly around these words, clearly in disbelief.

If you weren’t mistaken, you saw his cock twitch inside those silken pink pants. You loved how even though the fabric covered him, the outline of his cock was so entirely visible. The band of the pants being loose had caused them to slip so low on his hips, even causing the top bit of his pubic hair to be visible as he stood there, entirely uncaring (and likely unaware) of it.

“Yes, baby.” You told him. “Now, come sit on the bed.”

Spencer rushed to follow your instruction, almost tripping over your bedroom rug in the process. That caused you to bite your lip, holding back a grin - you wouldn’t want him to think you were laughing at him, after all.

Spencer gently sat on the edge of the bed with his feet still on the floor, his bum just barely grazing against your thigh. You found it adorable that he was still being so timid about making contact.

You spread your legs wide, and gestured between them.

“Come sit here.” You told him.

“Oh.” He said quietly.

He stood up then and looked at the space between your legs. His expression was very comparable to a man afraid of heights looking like he was about to take a dive off a cliff into deep water.

“It’s okay, Spencer.” You assured him. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, remember?”

“I know.” He said quietly. “It’s just - it’s all so new.” He whispered. “I - I want to be good.”

You wondered if the last part was about his ability to behave and follow the rules, or… if it was about something else.

“Spencer, baby, are you worried about impressing me?” You wondered aloud.

The expression on his face at this was very telling - a flicker of embarrassment, his hands twitching as he ached to play with his fingers, wanting to distract himself from the conversation.

“Look, I know you’re new to all this. I’m not expecting you to be some sex expert, or a porn star or something.” You assured him. “That’s why I’m here to teach you, baby.”

“What if I do it wrong?” He asked, his voice still so timid, so small.

“Then I’ll show you how to do it right.” You told him. “That’s why I’m here. I’m not gonna laugh at you, or yell at you. I’m just gonna show you what I like and how to do it right.”

It should have been obvious. Someone of his talent, his caliber, someone who had everything come so naturally to him his entire life, someone who had accomplished so much at such a young age - he was terrified of tackling something unknown, something he was afraid to mess up. He was afraid of being a bad student.

He had just enough time in the living room to sit and stew in those insecurities, and now you had to lovingly battle them.

“Come sit with me, baby.” You urged, leaning forward to pat the space on the bed between your thighs.

You scrunched up the fabric of your robe so he wouldn’t sit on it, and finally, he moved to crawl between your legs - kneeling on the bed with his feet tucked underneath his bum and his hands fidgeting in his lap. His knees were slightly brushing against your inner thighs, but he wasn’t sitting terribly close to you. That was something you left alone for now.

You sat up slightly, leveling your body with his, and ran your hand along his arm, trying to soothe him.

“So, you said you wanted to learn how to give me an orgasm, right?” You posed.

Spencer nodded.

“Come on, use your words.” You told him.

“Yes, Mommy.” He said quietly, clearly still feeling insecure and hesitant. “I want that.”

He could only imagine how beautiful it would be so see you writhing in pleasure - to hear you calling out his name as you orgasmed, breathless. To see your body arching up off the bed as he brought you to climax. He could only imagine the headrush it would cause him to know that he had caused it for you.

“Well, I think the best way for you to do that is by using your hands.” You explained. “Stimulating me with your fingers.”

“My hands?” He questioned, looking from you down to his hands in his lap.

Honestly, it was never something he had thought about. Yes - he used his hands to make himself orgasm, but that was only because he was alone. The act of masturbation was more like a mind-clearing chore for him than anything. (Before you came into his life and turned all of his ideas about sex upside-down.)

He did have to consider that you used your hands to stimulate yourself, to masturbate - but he had no clue how.

But he guessed that would be part of the learning process.

“Yes, baby.” You smiled eagerly. “And I know you’re gonna be good with your hands. You’re very skilled because you do all that sleight of hand and close up magic.”

Spencer felt a rush of confidence at the praise, and couldn’t stop the grin that formed over his face at your words.

“Well, you see, sleight of hand doesn’t actually require that much dexterity or skill, like playing a sport does, because it’s more so about practicing the same movement over and over again until it becomes ingrained muscle memory.” He explained, easily sounding in his element.

You couldn’t believe how easily he had set you up for your next words. It was almost like he had walked into a trap.

“Well, what I’m going to teach you is also about repetitive movements.” You explained. “And it will definitely become muscle memory for you over time.”

Spencer smiled fondly hearing this. He was now more confident that he would be good at what you were going to teach him.

“So… where do we start?” He asked, becoming that eager student once again.

“Here, let me look at your hands.” You told him.

He was slightly confused by this, but didn’t have time to question it because you snaked your hands under his palms where they were sitting in his lap. His dick had wilted slightly from the anxiety, so he was only half hard in his pants. But he let out a small whimper when you accidentally crazed against it as you took his hands in yours and lifted them up to get a good look at them.

“It’s important that your nails are trimmed.” You told him, lifting his hands up close to your face to get a good look. “You don’t want your nails to be too long, or you might accidentally hurt me. And that’s just a general rule whenever you’re putting your fingers inside someone.”

He became slightly intimidated at the idea of putting his fingers inside you, but he tried not to let it show.

“I trimmed my nails last night.” He said, proud that he had done something good. “It’s a good grooming habit.”

He didn’t want to bring up the fact that - per his germophobia, he always kept his nails trimmed because he was afraid of too much build up getting under his nails and making him sick (even though he washed his hands multiple times a day). But he was just glad he could do something to please you.

You couldn’t stop staring at his hands. It was something you had noticed before in passing - but they were gorgeous. He had such strong, prominent muscles here. Long, thick fingers - he was going to do very well at this. Once he was well trained up, you knew you weren’t going to be able to go for very long without having those fingers inside of you.

“Very good, baby.” You said, finally snapping out of your lustful revere.

You raised one of his hands up and kissed the back of it. And then, continued on, kissing a path along his hand to his knuckles until you reached the tip of his middle finger. As natural as ever, you gently sucked his middle and ring finger into your mouth. Of course, you were just playing around, admiring. His hands were so nice that you couldn’t help but to have one in your mouth.

“Oh,” Spencer moaned quietly.

When you looked over at him, he was staring you down with lustful eyes. His lips slightly parted as his gaze locked onto the place where your lips drew his fingers in, taking him down to the second knuckle. You gently swirled your tongue around the digits as you enjoyed the thickness in your mouth. You could lightly taste floral soap on his skin and knew that he had washed his hands in the kitchen sink when you had sent him out to wait for you.

After a moment of this, you pulled back, your lips separating from his skin with a wet ‘smack’. (Though you wanted it to be longer - you loved those fingers, you could have easily held them in your mouth for a long time).

“Yeah, these are good fingers.” You assured him, giving him a deliberate wink. “You’re gonna be good at this, Spence.”

Spencer shuddered with pleasure at this.

You leaned back onto your pillows, making yourself comfortable while he watched in awe.

“I’m gonna take off my underwear now. Is that okay?” You asked gently.

“Yes.” He said, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Mommy.”

You lifted your hips to wiggle out of them. When the fabric was at your knees, he naturally met you halfway, taking the panties down your calves and very delicately untangling them from around your high heels. He concentrated on the task in a way that told you he wasn’t even trying to take a premature glimpse at your naked cunt. It was entirely endearing.

Once he had the fabric completely untangled from your shoes, you naturally moved your legs to bracket them around his body once again. This completely exposed your wet pussy to the cool air, and he stared at the underwear in his hands, clearly perplexed about what to do with it now.

“Just toss it on the floor, baby.” You told him.

He did so, and then, with nowhere else to look, his eyes locked onto your naked pussy for the first time.

Paintings and pictures had shown him the scientific side or even the objective beauty of the female anatomy. But seeing you laid bare before him, adorned in lacy accoutrements - this was truly sexy.

His blood ran hot, and his cock throbbed to full hardness in a dizzying record time as he laid eyes on the glistening lips of your pussy. Seeing how real you were - the way your skin tone faded from the shade that matched the rest of your body to the more raw, wet skin of your inner folds, clearly swollen with need. Your pubic hair, slightly trimmed and glossy with your wetness - everything about you was so real and it made Spencer’s cock ache.

“Scoot a bit closer, baby.” You told him, hitch your knees apart further, spreading yourself open for him. “Can you see okay?”

Your pussy made a wet sound as it spread open for him, and he let out a quiet gasp in awe as more of you was bared to his eyes. You were so beautiful, so raw, so perfect, so hot - he almost couldn’t handle it.

You knew he was likely becoming too entranced to answer the question. With the way his eyes were so tightly locked onto your cunt, you guessed that - yes, he could see just fine. Just seeing the utterly entranced expression on his face caused a throbbing heat through you, you were sure that if he paid enough attention, he would be able to see the wetness actively dripping out of you.

“Spencer, look at me.” You ordered sharply. “Look at Mommy.”

Spencer forced his eyes up to your face, and you smiled at him when he managed to follow the order.

“How much do you know about the female anatomy?” You asked him.

“I - I’ve read books.” He answered quietly.

“Good.” You told him, trying to be encouraging. “Do you know where the clitoris is?”

“I - um-” Spencer looked down at your pussy and found himself suddenly nervous again, not knowing if he should touch you, or if he should point, or-

“You can put your hands on me.” You told him. “I’m here to teach you, baby. Let me be your… in-person diagram.”

Spencer nodded.

Then, as naturally as he possibly could, he reached down and put a gentle hand on the top of your mound. He was so feather-light that you had to forcefully hold back a laugh, feeling ticklish at the touch. With his palm mostly spread out mostly over your pelvis, he used a thumb to pull your pussy lips back.

Then, he saw that very obvious swollen button staring at him. With the pointer finger on his other hand, he sought it out like a guided missile, entirely confident in his answer. Before he could truly think about it - he poked your clit with that singular finger, pointing to it as his answer.

“There.” He mumbled quietly.

“Oh-!” You breathed out sharply, your hips surging toward his touch.

His touch had been so abrupt (especially after so much anticipation on your part) that it sent an unexpected shockwave through your body.

Spencer immediately recoiled, believing that he had hurt you.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly apologized. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?”

He drew back both his hands instantly, curling them up to his chest as if he had done something terribly wrong.

“No, no you didn’t hurt me!” You quickly assured him, putting your hands up in a surrendering motion to drive the point home. “Everything is fine, baby.”

“Then what-?” He asked, his voice very meek and small. “What was that?”

“I’m sensitive, baby. My body is sensitive. And I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” You chuckled.

Spencer gave a small frown, clearly believing he had done something wrong.

“The clitoris has a lot of nerve endings.” You explained, giving a chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “That’s kind of the point. That makes things more pleasurable.”

“Oh.” He said.

After a moment, his body began to relax as he chugged with thought, his eyebrows knitting tight like they always did when he was pondering something.

“Oh… so that was… that was a good stimulation?” He posed.

“Yes.” You told him. “I want you to touch my clitoris because it feels good. It’s one of the easiest ways to make a woman feel good.”

He nodded, and then he moved his hands to touch you again. But you had a thought first. You caught his hands halfway, and held them in your own as you spoke.

“Listen first.” You told him.

He looked at your face obediently as you explained it to him.

“Typically, for women, there are two types of orgasms,” You put on your ‘teacher’ voice once again, and he relaxed and put his hands back in his lap, clearly eager and ready to listen, wanting to absorb the information to the fullest. “A clitoral orgasm or a vaginal orgasm. Can you guess what that means?”

Spencer thought about it for a moment.

“An orgasm achieved by clitoral stimulation versus an orgasm achieved by vaginal stimulation?” He posed.

You grinned. “Very good. Good boy.”

He grinned back, easily soaking up the praise.

“So, it depends on the person you’re with, but generally, most women achieve orgasm through a combination of both clitorial and vaginal stimulation. And a good rule of thumb is to always ask someone what they enjoy,” You told him. He nodded at this. “And also, looking at someone’s facial expressions and body language can tell you if you’re doing well at stimulating them. It’s like profiling.”

“Well… what kind of facial expressions and body language should I be looking for?” He asked.

You found this oddly amusing. To you, it was obvious that a back arching and lots of moaning and an ‘O’ face meant good sex, but Spencer was truly just that fresh. He simply didn’t know.

“Well…” You took a moment to gather a mental list for him. “Typically, someone makes a lot of involuntary body movements if the stimulation is good. Good sex stimulates your nerve endings, so it makes your muscles twitch, and it can even make your limbs flail around or make your back arch off the bed.”

Spencer nodded, his face still very intense and thoughtful as he took this in.

“And when people are enjoying sex, they usually make a lot of sounds. Gasps, moans. They might swear or call out your name. And most people do just tell you that they’re enjoying it,” You giggled.

Spencer nodded again. Then he posed a thoughtful question.

“What about facial expressions?” He asked.

“I know it might sound strange… but, you’ll know an expression of someone lost in pleasure when you see it.” You told him.

These words made his whole body tingle. And naturally, made him wonder what your face would look like when you were lost in pleasure.

“What do you prefer?” He asked. “Do you prefer clitoral stimulation or vaginal stimulation?”

“I prefer a combination of both.” You told him. “That’s usually what makes me cum the hardest.”

“You mean ‘cum’ as in orgasming?” Spencer said, repeating back this vocabulary to you with pride.

“Yes, baby.” You told him with a nod.

He beamed at getting the answer correct.

“I thought we could start with clitoral stimulation and then move on to vaginal stimulation.” You explained. “Usually it’s easy to… warm up with clitorial stimulation. It makes the vaginal muscles more relaxed before penetration.”

You found it odd to be using such clinical terms - the words were so stiff in your mouth, but you supposed that it was the healthiest way to explain everything to him.

Spencer nodded eagerly at this.

“You should wet your fingers first. Maybe spit on them?” You posed - this was a selfish request, wanting the delight of seeing him suck on his own fingertips.

“That doesn’t sound the most sanitary…” He said quietly, cringing.

Hearing him say this presented a new goal in your mind - getting him so fucked out and pliant that mister ‘it’s actually more sanitary to kiss’ would let you spit directly into his mouth.

You chuckled at his words, though.

“Okay, well… there’s lube in the drawer instead.” You said, motioning toward your nightstand. “Like I said last time, there’s no such thing as ‘too wet’.”

Spencer nodded eagerly and sat higher up on his knees to reach for the drawer. When he pulled it open, his eyes immediately grew wide at the array of… objects you had in there. Thick, veiny things, some round things he couldn’t even begin to propose the purpose of, something with small dots on it that looked like a cartoon tentacle-?

Knowing that he would become too distracted by these things and want to start asking questions, you reached over and grabbed the bottle of lube and snapped the drawer shut while his mind was still racing.

“Focus, baby.” You told him, putting a hand on his cheek and forcefully prodding his attention back in your direction.

He definitely had a lot of questions about those things. But he would ask you those questions later. (Because he certainly wasn’t going to forget about anything he had just seen.)

You handed the bottle of lube to Spencer. It was almost exactly the same as the one you had given to him and used with the fleshlight, except it was strawberry scented and the liquid was lighted tinted tinted pink as an association with the scent. It was your favorite to use with toys because the scent was absolutely delicious as a perfume in their air (and at this point, it was something you knew that you unconsciously associated with an orgasm).

You were naturally wet. You were throbbing and needy for him. But you knew that it would be nice to be extra slicked up to help him along.

After a moment of struggling (in which you pondered if you should interfere) he popped the cap, and then he looked from the opened bottle of lube to his hands.

“Right, so-” He mumbled quietly.

He poured a dollop on his extended fingertips that easily got carried away and dripped into his lap, and he gasped and began looking around for something to wipe it off his borrowed pants with.

“You can clean it up later, baby.” You told him. “Things are gonna get a little messy right now.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Right. Yeah-”

Then, he looked back to the bottle in his hand, and before putting it aside, he poured a dribble of the pink liquid (likely more than he had intended) onto the top of your mound, causing you to gasp quietly as the coolness dripped down over your hot, needy pussy.

“Is that good, Mommy?” He asked quietly, moving to put the bottle aside.

“That’s very good, baby.” You encouraged him gently.

“Okay - I - I’m going to - touch you now.” Spencer told you, announcing his movements in an entirely adorable way.

You nodded. “I’m ready for you, sweet boy.”

Spencer put his non-lubed hand gently on your inner thigh, and then angled two of his fingers back toward your clit again. This time when he made contact, he was much gentler, and you let out a sharp breath through your nose, warm tingles spreading through your pelvis at the feeling of him touching your swollen clit with such intention.

With his middle and pointer finger, he began a strange sort of spearing motion, rocking his hand into your pelvis. He touched your clit as though it were a literal button he was trying to push over and over again in order to make you cum. The movement didn’t do much for you - except draw a slight stinging from the area.

“Baby,” You caught his attention, drawing his eyes up from where he was intensely focused, staring hard at the place where he was touching your pussy.

“Spence, it’s - it’s more like this,”

You motioned with two of your fingers in the air, drawing small circles, demonstrating to him what he should be doing.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly.

“It’s okay, baby.” You assured him, reaching out and petting a hand through his hair. “It’s okay. You’re learning, right?”

He nodded. “I’m learning. I’m gonna do better.”

“I know you will, baby. You’re Mommy’s good boy.”

This bit of encouragement and praise seemed to fuel him, and he took this new instruction with vigor.

He went back to work using the motion you had just demonstrated and immediately, the difference affected you. His thick, cautious fingertips circling tentatively around your needy clit sent tingles up your spine, causing a warming glow to spread through your body that was slowly, but surely building up your orgasm. The beautiful artificial smell of the lube wafted through the air, and with the sight of Spencer in front of you, his forearm flexing slightly as he worked, it was all too perfect.

You let out a gentle moan, and Spencer smiled.

“That’s good?” He asked, looking from the spot where his fingers worked on your pussy up to your face.

“That’s good, baby.” You told him, the stimulation causing you to become slightly breathless already. “You’re doing so good for me.”

Spencer continued like this, running his other hand along your thigh, clearly feeling needy to touch and enjoy the softness of your skin now that it was freely available under his hands. His touch spread a warmth throughout your body that had you squirming under him, letting out more gentle moans under your breath.

Spencer watched you in awe, so entirely pleased with the results.

“You - you can go a bit faster, baby.” You told him, finding your throat slightly dry as your breathing sped up, more blood pooling in your needy cunt as his touch demanded it. “Speed up your fingers.”

“Yes, Mommy.” He easily obeyed.

Hearing those words in his sweet voice in addition to his touch, his fingers now moving in fast, delicate circles on your throbbing clit - it brought sparks through your body and caused slight tremors through your thighs.

It wasn’t going to be the most earth shattering orgasm you had ever experienced, but it was going to be a good one, mostly because it was Spencer. Because you had him in your bed, calling you Mommy, wearing a pair of your silky pink pajama pants that his hard cock was now leaking a stain into. All while he concentrated on learning how to please you like it was the most important book he had ever read in his life.

“Oh, Spencer!” You called out, arching your hips toward him. “Doing so good for me, baby! So good-”

Spencer stopped his movements suddenly, and your voice caught in your throat as you looked at him with tense confusion knit over your brows.

“What - what about the vaginal stimulation?” He asked. “You said you wanted me to do both, right?”

You couldn’t hold back the breathy chuckle in your throat.

If it had been anybody else, you would have immediately thought that they were edging you intentionally. But no - that wasn’t even a thought in Spencer’s head. He was simply eager to learn more, wanting to do the most to give you the best orgasm possible. He wasn’t content with mediocre. When he learned something, he wanted to be the best at it. And that thought caused any disappointment about your fading orgasm to be replaced by pride - you had somehow captured the best, sweetest boy, and you were going to use that to your full advantage.

“Right, baby.” You said, still catching your breath. You swallowed to gather some spit in your mouth to talk properly before you continued. “Okay, you’re going to continue what you were doing with this hand, but first,” You said this pointedly, motioning to the hand that was unmoving near your clit, not wanting him to continue and impair your ability to properly explain. “You’re going to work your fingers inside me.”

“What if I hurt you?” He asked, clearly timid at the idea that he might hurt you in any way.

“You won’t.” You told him. “You start with one finger, because that’s smaller, so you won’t hurt me. And then once my body has adjusted to that, you can add another. So it won’t hurt.” You assured him.

“So, I just need to use two fingers?” He asked. “Also, how do I know when to put the next finger?”

“You can add three fingers.” You told him. “And I’ll tell you when to add the next one. And you’ll know because you’ll feel the muscles relax around you.”

Spencer nodded.

“So… what’s the best… kind of… movement?” He asked, awkwardly gesturing with his free hand in a way that made you giggle.

He blushed with embarrassment at this, and you rushed to speak in the hopes that he wouldn’t feel awkward.

“You’re going to move your fingers in and out. Like simulating intercourse. The repeated penetration feels good.” You told him. “Be gentle at first, and I’ll tell you if you should go harder or faster.”

Spencer nodded.

He began slow, gentle circles on your clit again, and you let out a small moan at this. And then he moved his other hand down, skimming the fingertip of his pointer finger along your folds until he felt it - that pulsing entrance waiting for him, needy. He thought he imagined it, but it almost felt like your body was trying to suck him in.

“It’s okay, baby.” You told him, your voice gentle and encouraging, slightly hazy with pleasure. “You’re doing so good for Mommy.”

These words caused his cock to throb inside of the borrowed pants, and feeling a pulse of confidence because of it, he pushed the thickness of his finger forward and breached your entrance with his touch for the first time.

It was such a brand new feeling - having your wetness surrounding his digit, feeling your muscles clamping down on him. Feeling how hot your body was, especially compared to the lifeless coolness of a silicone fleshlight. It made him moan louder than the sound you easily trapped in your chest. You found yourself dizzied with a wave of pleasure at seeing his face so fucked out and hearing him moan like that because he was touching you.

“You like it, baby?” You asked breathlessly, angling your hips into his clumsy, unmoving hands.

Clearly he was so pleasure drunk and hazy that he had forgotten that he was supposed to be fingerfucking you. He was simply exploring, enjoying the feeling. You didn’t fault him for it, and you didn’t want to rush him, even with a filthy, needy ache growing deep inside of you.

“You’re so warm.” He replied, his quiet voice edging between awe and another moan of his own.

His eyes flickered between the place where he was touching your pussy and your breasts, heaving slightly with your labored breathing, and your face. Your lips dropped open slightly with pleasure, your eyes becoming glassy. He loved it so much. He loved you. He couldn’t get enough of this.

“Your body is so hot.”

You grinned widely at this.

Maybe a huge part of the endearment came from the fact that you knew he meant temperature, and not the typical slang meaning your appearance. It was something that clearly surprised him, feeling how hot your pussy was while being in direct contact with it.

“Thank you.” You told him. “Can you fuck me now, Doctor Reid?”

“I - Right.”

Spencer resisted the urge to apologize again, knowing you probably wouldn’t like it. And he tried to ignore how much it turned him on to hear you call him ‘Doctor Reid’ in this context. Instead - he set his attention on pleasing you.

He concentrated on picking up a good rhythm - moving his fingers on your clit in circles while he gently drew back the other hand and began moving it slowly in and out, trying to penetrate you in a pleasing way. He instantly became entranced by the natural wetness dripping out of your pussy, covering his finger, his knuckles, spreading to his palm the more he moved his finger. He was fascinated by the way your muscles did seem to give way to him, your body opening up as if you wanted more.

“Add another one, baby.” You moaned quietly. “Another finger.”

So his instincts served him right. At least somewhat. He hoped that he could remember this for next time, and please you better with less of your instructions, working more off of knowledge and instinct like this.

When he drew back his hand to do as you instructed, you added on some further advice.

“It also works better if your palm is facing up.” You told him. “The curve of your fingers is working with my body, not fighting against it.”

Spencer had been prodding into your entrance, poking his finger into you in a more exploratory way - but he definitely understood this.

“Yes, Mommy.” He said.

He flipped his hand so that his palm was facing the ceiling, immediately fascinated by how sticky his wet finger was. Then he gently prodded forward again, his middle finger joining the first. He continued to draw circles on your clit - a rhythm that became clumsy and unfocused at times, because he was easily distracted by the feeling of your tight pussy clamping down on his fingers, trying to figure out how hard he should go.

He was being incredibly tame, almost sloth-like in his movements, clearly afraid to hurt you. And he left you burning up, aching for release. The thickness of his fingers felt so amazing inside of you, better than you could have imagined - but he was so timid, and you hoped that you could draw more out of him.

“Spencer,” You moaned lightly. “Go faster. Come on, be a good boy for Mommy.”

You reached out and got a hand in his hair once again, gently cupping the back of his head and scratching your nails along his scalp.

“Yes,” He hissed out, leaning his head into your touch. “Yes, Mommy. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll be so good for you.”

He kept his eyes locked on you then, and, entirely fueled by the intense feeling pumping through his body, the pure need to serve you - he began pumping his fingers faster. Though it was clumsy at first, after a few moments, both of his hands fell into a natural rhythm with each other. His fingers circling your swollen clit became well timed with the thickness of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and in a few minutes - it became perfect.

You went from letting out a few solitary sounds to every other one of your breaths becoming a moan, your lips perfectly parted, showing him how well he was doing.

When he saw your heated eyes and your lips wrapped around those moans so perfectly, that was when he knew it - that was a face of desire. The one he would spend the rest of his days trying to recreate in you.

“So good, baby.” You moaned out, your words becoming less durable as he stole them away with pleasure. “Go harder.”

“Harder?” He warbled back.

His wrist was beginning to shake, not used to this kind of repeated effort. (Truthfully, he wasn’t used to any more effort than hefting around a thick book for a while.) But he would keep it up for as long as it took to make you cum. He would do it until his arm fell off if he got to see you fall apart beneath him.

“Yes, harder!” You confirmed, giving a firm tug on his hair to encourage him.

Spencer let out a sharp whimper at this, and angled his elbow further between your thighs, trying to put less strain on the muscles of his wrist so he could do as you instructed.

He began rubbing your clit with more urgency, and fucked his fingers into you even harder. He let out a moan as the sound then got to his ears - the wet slapping of his knuckles smacking up against the edges of your cunt, so rough and careless. He really was fucking you, he was taking over your body at your command, his touch was being used for your pleasure, and you were definitely being pleasured by him.

“Spencer!” You howled, a sound that would stick in his mind forevermore.

It was something that caught his entire body on fire in seconds and made his dick ache with red hot pin-pricks. He was surprised that he didn’t cum in his pants from that alone. But he was far too concentrated on keeping up the pace, fascinated by the way your pussy spasmed around his fingers, the way your thighs jolted and shook in a similar fashion that his legs had a few nights ago.

“Oh, Spence! Good boy! Good boy, oh-!”

You let out a sharp gasp and your head tilted back, and you seemed to gulp for air for a few moments while he continued to brutally fuck his fingers into you and rock his fingertips against your clit, angling your hips into the touches as though you were trying to get more from him.

Though it seemed impossible, his knuckles were flooded with an even further wetness. And though he almost couldn’t bear to look away from your face, he did chance a glance down to your beautifully raw, fluttering pussy and saw that there was a distinct puddle of wetness on the sheets below you. You were the most gorgeous fountain he had ever seen.

If he didn’t think it was out of place, he would have leaned down to lick you, curious about what your natural wetness tasted like.

“Oh, Spence!” You squealed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it almost seemed like you were trying to squirm away from his touch. “Oh - oh, baby! You can s-slow down now! You did - did s-so good!”

Spencer slowed down, as instructed. And then - when he put it together in his mind, he gently eased off touching you entirely, feeling your pussy spasming and throbbing harshly under his touch. It was fascinating really, the way your body responded to him. He badly wanted to explore it more - explore it for hours uninterrupted. But for now, he had a simple question.

“Was that the orgasm?” He wondered aloud.

The unadulterated curiosity bleeding through his voice when he said this had you clenching hard around his unmoving fingers, so entirely turned on by the fact that he was just as awed by you as he was fine art or any thousand page encyclopedia.

You couldn’t hold back the bright, breathless chuckle that escaped your lungs in response.

“Yes, baby, that was the orgasm.” You told him. “What did you think?”

“That was… spectacular.” Spencer told you, sounding almost as breathless himself.

“You can pull your fingers out of me now.” You instructed, feeling slightly sensitive, unconsciously clenching around the digits and accidentally overstimulating your raw pussy in the process.

“Oh. Right.” Spencer mumbled.

He moaned quietly as he did so - loving the purely wet sound it made, like pulling away from a good kiss. He found himself in awe of the string of wetness that followed his fingers from your opening, like a thick string of salvia. He began rubbing his fingers together, studying it with utter fascination as you watched him with that concentrated look on his face again. You wondered how you had stumbled upon such a treasure of a man.

Your eyes fell from his face to the prominent bulge of his cock still pressing into the front of those thin pink pants, the wet spot his precum made now even wider, and you immediately came up with a new idea.

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me, baby?” You posed. “Your hand is already so nice and wet.”

“Oh - I - I - should-?” Spencer stuttered out, looking from his glistening hands to the tent in his borrowed pants, a million thoughts flying through his very vast mind.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” You soothed him gently. “Just tell me if that’s something you want. Yes or no.”

“Yes.” He said, a desperate whisper on his lips. “Can - can you untie my pants for me?”

You hummed in agreement and reached over, untying the well secured knot on the pants and then pulling the loose waistband down over his thick, excited cock, letting it spring out to hit his pelvis. He moaned quietly at this.

“Make yourself cum for me, baby.” You encouraged him. “You were so good for me, you made me cum so good. Such a good boy. You deserve this.”

You began running your fingers through his hair again, something he seemed to heavily enjoy. Spencer - now wildly chasing his instincts, working on need alone and trying to push back all those doubts, reached out with those glistening fingers and gently dipped into your pussy again. The contact on your beating folds caused you to gasp, and Spencer shuddered slightly at this, mumbling out at an excuse.

“I wanted-” He muttered quietly. “I just… wanted it to be wetter.”

“Good boy.” You moaned out. You definitely didn’t want to discourage him from doing things like this.

You wanted to mention the fact that there was a bottle of lube sitting less than a foot away. But clearly he had developed a fascination for your wetness, and you didn’t want to stifle that fascination in him or embarrass him.

Spencer then took those slicked up fingers and stroked them across his cock. Just the knowledge that it was your wetness, the essence of your pussy touching his cock - that had dizzying waves fluttering through him that almost had him crumbling to fall on top of you.

It took all of his remaining composure to stay upright. He was so furiously turned on that his cock was leaking precum like a sputtering faucet. He easily took advantage of that, cupping his hand into a well-known grip around his shaft and spreading that natural lubrication down from the sensitive, leaking cockhead to the rest of his dick. This caused his neglected, needy cock to easily light up and unconsciously buck into his own hand.

“‘s too fast,” He whined out.

His face took on a desperate frown as he continued to pump his hand over his cock almost mildly, almost as if he were afraid to go harder.

He looked so beautifully wrecked - with his brows creased downward and his lip caught between his teeth, with that messy hand pumping his own leaking cock.

“Too fast?” You asked, unsure what he meant.

“It’s - it’s not-” He stuttered out, his brain becoming scattered and wordless to describe the feeling rushing through him.

“Hey, shh,” You scratched your nails against his scalp again, grounding him. “Use your words, baby. Come on, be a good boy.”

“Mommy!” He whined, his hips bucking forward desperately into his own hand, wetly smearing precum to the point where it became noisy. Your pussy throbbed at this and you resisted the urge to reach down and touch yourself, not wanting to distract him.

“Baby, come on. Tell Mommy.” You ordered firmly.

He sniffled loudly before he attempted more words.

“Gonna end too fast.” He whined sharply.

He sounded entirely petulant - as though he were truly upset that he was going to cum too soon and the night’s activities would be over. As though the two of you didn’t have plenty more nights to play.

“It’s okay, baby.” You told him, reaching a hand over to thumb across his cheek, wiping away some of the frustrated tears that had escaped. “You did so good for me. You’re so good.”

“I want more.” He whined out, clearly frustrated.

“Mommy will always give you more.” You assured him. “But right now, you’re gonna cum for me.”

He let out a wounded noise, some kind of protest, but his hips jolted as he continued to fuck his own hand. You had him right there.

“Cum for me.” You demanded, your voice dark and demanding.

It was a command he absolutely couldn’t ignore if he tried.

“Mommy! Oh! Oh!”

He let out a sharp cry as he came, and pumped himself through it.

Neither of you had considered where he was going to cum. On his knees in front of you like that, he ended up in the perfect position to spill his load right onto your exposed cunt. Just like the last time you had played, he exploded with a massive power. Though he didn’t seem to have any care for where he was angling his cock or what he was cumming on, simply continuing to chant ‘oh, oh, oh’ under his breath with his eyes beautifully screwed shut and his mouth wide open, delicately pumping his hand on his cock to ride his orgasm all the way through.

Thick, white waves of his cum landed on your pussy - startlingly warm, almost blazen hot compared to the cool air of the room. Something that easily made you moan, especially when paired with the beautiful sight of his orgasmic face in front of you and the way he so carelessly fucked himself, clearly only wanting to achieve his own pleasure and not caring if it was a good show or not - which was what made him so damn beautiful.

When Spencer had milked himself dry, his cock starting to go soft in his own hand and the pleasant tingles becoming more like harsh pin-pricks of overstimulation, he put a hand on the wideness of your thigh for support, his muscles shaking. And then he finally opened his eyes.

He felt even dizzier when he saw the sight before him - your gorgeously lingerie clad body and naked pussy now covered in the thick white of his spend. A small voice in the back of his head wondered if you could get pregnant from this, and another told him that - yes, it would be good if you did. You would look so good pregnant with his child. A child the two of you made together would be smart, beautiful, charismatic, brilliant and perfect in every aspect.

He hadn’t even fully acknowledged that he was in love with you yet, but that was the moment he knew for certain that he wanted you to be the mother of his children. There was no other woman in the world who would be comparable to you - no other woman as perfect for the task.

(He didn’t know that you were on oral birth control, so it didn’t matter if he had cum inside you - you weren’t going to get pregnant. Not without intending to.)

“Oh, did I-?” He motioned toward the mess, seeming worried.

Before he could apologize for it, you reached your fingers down and began lightly padding through it, and Spencer let out a wrecked moan at the sight.

“You did such a good job, baby.” You told him, still entirely certain.

Before he could comprehend it, you brought a finger up to your mouth - one covered in the combined essence of yourself and Spencer, and curled your tongue around it, moaning at the taste. Spencer could do nothing more than make unintelligible noises, and you giggled as you released the finger.

“Good boy.”

Spencer was dizzy and hazy from all the pleasure, and there was only one thing on his mind.

“Can I have a hug now?” He asked, his voice still sweet and soft.

“Yes, baby. Come here.” You spread your arms wide and Spencer practically launched himself at you.

He laid completely on top of you, and you wrapped your arms around him, stroking up and down his back lazily as you enjoyed the peaceful calm of his breathing.

After only a few moments, you felt him start to fall asleep like that. His muscles turned to jelly, and his breathing came out in long, soft puffs. He looked so adorable nuzzled into your breasts that you didn’t want to wake him up, even if the drying mess between your thighs was becoming uncomfortable, and you knew that he definitely wouldn’t want to sleep in it for too long.

You continued petting your fingers through his hair gently. You would wake him up in a little while and get cleaned up, you assured yourself.

You definitely weren’t falling for him, feeling things that extended far outside of sexual attraction.

Nope. Definitely not.

...

Note: This is a Capsule Series, so each fic can be read as an individual oneshot. There is no overarching story, and no specific ending.

I am not currently working on a continuation of this, and I don't know when I will be. If you enjoyed this and you want to see more from me, I highly encourage you to check out the rest of the works on my Criminal Minds Masterlist.

#sundrop writes #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic

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saerins · 10 months

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°୨୧ MORAL OF THE STORY

+ sae x f!reader | wc 2k | content: both of them are just kinda selfish in their own ways, angst, mentions of alcohol

notes: haha hi guys …. i’m totally not in love with sae . totallyyyyyy … ( kidding i need help sos ) (∘⁼̴⃙̀˘︷˘⁼̴⃙́∘)

summary: you and sae have been in love with each other since high school. during your special day, he throws you a curveball.

everything’s in full swing.

dinner is ongoing, the meat station being particularly popular, as you expected. all your old friends from different schools are mingling along so well, just like you imagined they would. everyone’s excited for the big day tomorrow, and so are you.

as you watch everything unfolding from the balcony, you can’t help but smile. one step closer to tomorrow, one step closer to forever.

unlike everyone else, you abstain from drinking yourself silly. they can afford to be hungover tomorrow, but not you. won’t be good to see the bride throw up all over her wedding dress.

“you look pretty like this.”

turning around at the man who has your full attention, you smirk. “just like this, itoshi sae?”

there’s a pink flush on his cheeks and you have a hard time gathering whether it’s from your words or the liquor. sae’s only a little tipsy—not enough to consider him drunk. but he chuckles though, and it has your heart beating faster; he still has the same hold over you like he did way back then.

nothing much has changed since you first knew him. he’d always been special to you, and you, to him.

“all the time,” he corrects himself, both elbows leaning on the railing, looking at the sea view before the two of you.

giggling, you mirror his position, bare arm brushing the sleeves of his expensive suit. “i’m sure you know i feel the same,” you tease him back.

sae laughs a little harder, and it’s refreshing to see his usual stoic expression turn soft. “of course i know,” he says before turning to look you in the eyes, those teal tones forever magic when they stare at you. “i’ve known since you started having that crush on me back in high school.”

you groan, covering your face. “see, i knew you’d bring that up!” you complain, embarrassed. it’s kind of humiliating whenever he brings that up—it’s his worst blackmail material. “shush—i don’t want anyone to know. no mentioning it in any toasts or anything, okay?” your cheeks are heating up by now, and you have to pout.

the man beside you only continues laughing, both of you enjoying just existing in the moment, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he won’t say shit about that. because he always listens to you.

everyone else is still inside, preoccupied by the games hosted by the emcee.

“hey, y/n?” sae speaks up as your laughter drowns out.

you turn to him, narrowing your gaze and smiling, wondering what to expect from him—as you always are, because sae’s good at surprising you and you love that. “yes, mr itoshi sae?”

there’s a small pause as he swallows the lump in his throat, his eyes still gazing at you, from your hair to your nose to your chin and back at your eyes. “i’m in love with you.”

at that moment, time stands still and there’s a ringing drowning your ears, a silence swallowing you whole. it has you doubting whether it’s really him in front of you, saying the words you’d always wanted to hear from him.

“what—”

“i love you, y/n.”

and by all means, it should’ve been a happy occasion. you’ve dreamt of this moment happening over and over and over again. back then, you envisioned something different.

you and sae, twenty-three, finding out where your life paths are going, converging together and deciding to fuck what everyone thinks and go for it anyway. you and sae, twenty-four and making it past the one-year mark and defying everyone else’s expectations (including your own). twenty-five and thinking why neither of you thought to try sooner. twenty-six and knowing you’re set for the rest of your life.

that’s how it was supposed to be.

but at eighteen, sae had left without a word after your confession, a selfish choice. at nineteen, your friendship was reduced to one-sided texts while sae was off trying to piece his future. at twenty, you’d given up and let sae turn his full attention to soccer, while you’d hold no grudges and finish your studies. by twenty-two, you’d met someone who always put you first, someone who always knew what to do to make you feel better. someone who’s good for you.

“what are you doing, sae?” you ask him, nostrils flared from all the emotions threatening to spill out of you. it was easy to convince yourself that you no longer felt anything for him when he wasn’t here to tempt you, wasn’t here to taunt you for giving up. but since he’s been back for the past year, it proves to be difficult to suppress all the old feelings you’d tucked away.

sae takes his time to answer, because he doesn’t know either. he doesn’t fucking know why he’s only telling you this now, when he’s felt this way since you were both sixteen. when you’re both ten years older and living very different lives. when you’re about to marry someone else that isn’t him and it’s driving him crazy.

“i don’t know,” he answers honestly, suddenly realising the gravity of what he did and looking away ashamed. “i just… i love you. ever since we were younger, i- i’ve always felt the same.”

he did, and he still loves you. he was stupid when he was younger. he left and made stupid decisions like not even trying to talk to you because he didn’t know what the fuck he should do and now no excuse would be good enough to convince you to choose him. there’s no reason for you to. you’re about to marry someone who’s so obviously in love with you. someone who shows you off everywhere, someone who treats you the way sae wish he did since all those years ago.

what is he even doing? he doesn’t even know.

whenever he thought about how you’d react if he ever told you those words, he didn’t think you’d be like this; silent, tears flowing out your eyes, the cold creeping up your cheeks and bare arms and making you shiver.

“i wish…” you pause, looking him in the eyes. “i wish you’d said that before it was too late.”

he’d seen that coming. of course there wouldn’t be anything different to this story, not even with his confession. except, maybe, the nostalgia of getting a chance to say everything he never did, to the girl who always deserved it the most.

despite every single part of him that is screaming at him that whatever he’s thinking about is wrong, that people shouldn’t do this to the bride the night before the wedding, that little volume of alcohol inside him provides all the rush he needs. a swift sweep of the surrounding scenery is all he needs to know nobody’s watching, and before either of you really know it, sae’s lips are on yours and you’re so conflicted it’s criminal.

of course, you’re the one who pulls away—but there’s never disdain in your eyes when you look at him. a mercy he shouldn’t be able to afford but he does, only because you’re a saint compared to him.

it’s selfish; he’d always loved you, always wanted you, always never knew what to do with himself but now he’s dragged you down this rabbit hole and the aftermath isn’t particularly sweet. you’re sweet, though, the taste of cake that lingered on your tongue.

“i’m sorry,” he settles for, and the perplexed expression behind your eyes just serve to make him hate himself for this. he should.

you clear your throat, sniffling down your emotions before straightening yourself up and offering him a smile—one laced with ten years of melancholy and a lifetime of sae’s regrets.

“i’m sorry too,” you tell him, and part of you doesn’t know what you’re apologising for. is it because he realised his feelings too late and doesn’t stand a chance right now? is it because you’re consoling him for his loss? or is it because you’re thinking that if he had done this even just a few weeks earlier, maybe you would’ve changed your mind? that’s something to be sorry to your fiancé at the time for, right?

there’s a dull ache in your heart that’ll be hard to extinguish. it’s a sorry state to be in especially when tomorrow should be one of the biggest days of your life, but you’ll manage, just like you always have. the little girl inside of you is happy, even if just a little, even if this situation is a little questionable. but the boy she’s loved her whole life finally has the guts to say that he feels the same way.

all too little too late; now he’s just the lingering feelings of what should’ve been that you need to say goodbye to no matter how much your selfishness never wants to let go.

taking a step back, you purse your lips into a thin smile and reach your hand out. sae shakes it, the sad deformation of your friendship turning into plain formalities. “thank you,” you say, trying your best not to let any more of the pain show, “for everything.”

for being the first person you ever really considered a friend. for being the first person who always protected you from the storms. for being the guy who became most of your firsts. for loving you too, this whole time. there’s a lot you want to thank itoshi sae for—but where you’re about to go, the phase of life that you’re going to enter, it’ll know no peace if you allow sae in it.

this might be one of the last few times you ever speak to the love of your life.

sae chuckles weakly, the strength in his grip fading. “i should be the one telling you that.” you were an integral part of his youth after all. you’re the only one for him, and that’s all that has to be said. only person outside of family he truly cares for. only person he’d ever give his heart to. only person that can demand anything of him and he’ll follow through. only person that can possibly ruin him.

only person that he wonders what it’d feel like if he ever heard you say it back.

but he knows he’ll never get it.

“maybe… in another life,” and a small smile is all you can offer before you have to pull away, the tenderness with which sae holds you rivaling that of your fiancée’s.

in another life, he’ll definitely find you. he’ll find you and keep you and make sure he isn’t as stupid as he was back then.

but as he lets your fingers slip through his hand, as he watches you retreat to your future husband—he knows that this life is what matters now, and this life is where he’ll never be happy. and as the groom slowly looks away from you, to sae, and nods like he now knows yet does nothing about it, sae hates him even more.

he’s perfect for you. with you. both of you seem like you’re cut from the same cloth. everything sae could probably never measure up to.

so he gets ready. gets ready to go back and have an early night. gets ready to watch you vow yourself away to another man right in front of his face. gets ready to sideline himself and say goodbye to the one person he ever loved.

on your wedding day, that’s when the two of you see the last of each other; the remnants of your friendship being kept in the form of a photo in your form—groom on one side, sae on the other. even years after the fact, even when your phone’s been changed twice, thrice, how many ever times—it’s still there, stagnant in your album, never discarded.

on another side of the world, the same happens with sae. it’s there, as though it’s engraved in the album, favourited and kept hidden. petty as it is, the version of the picture in sae’s phone has your husband cropped out.

through all these years, sae keeps staring at it whenever he thinks of you, wondering what could’ve been.

#blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae x you #sae x y/n #bllk angst #itoshi sae angst #blue lock angst #sae angst #itoshi sae imagines #blue lock imagines #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #૪ aeri’s fics !

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tenpintsofsundrop · 1 year

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Lessons For A Genius - Lesson Two

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

Lesson Two: Magic Metacarpals

(aka the one where Spencer learns how to finger you)

Summary:

After his first 'lesson', Spencer is even more eager to learn from you.

And while both of you are ignoring your growing yearning for something more, you teach him the next logical thing: how to pleasure you in return.

Sub!Spencer Reid x (BAU)Dom!Fem!Reader. (Pining) Friends with Benefits. Smut. Set during early Season 2.

Word Count: 26,300

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Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: General themes for a CM episode - murder/killing/mentions of gun violence/mentions of women being murdered and sexually assaulted/mentions of strangling; once again, there is a mention of a case that isn't in the canon (one that I have made up) and this fic is not case-centric; the reader is held in a choke-hold by the killer and uses dark humour to get out of it; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; mentions of the reader wearing a dress/very girly outfit; the reader is heavily implied to be plus-sized; mentions of the reader being older than Spencer, but there is no specific mention of how much the age difference is/number of years (tbh the way I am playing it, it could be months, a year, or years of difference because they make jokes about it) (because this takes place in early S2, Spencer would be 24/25, so if you're younger than that, just imagine? lmao); the team being very nosy about Spencer and the reader's sex life and the reader lying about it in order to spare Spencer because he's shy (not because she's embarrassed of him); heavily implications of Morcia as a background couple; mentions of drinking/drunkenness (does not take place in this fic, it's just mentioned in passing); mentions of Spencer being bullied as a child.

General sexual themes; ongoing dom/sub relationship - Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; a safeword is in place but it's not used; Spencer is generally inexperienced and the reader is 'teaching' him things about sex, including slang, kinks, sexual technique, and the emotional consequences of sex, generally helping him explore his sexual side; mentions of using sex toys (a fleshlight, passing mentions of dildos, including a tentacle dildo that is not used); mentions of Spencer masturbating independently from scenes/playtime with the reader (these scenes are not detailed); descriptions of subspace; descriptions of Spencer having a subdrop/bad subspace experience because he masturbates without the reader there (this is a very brief part of the fic and all other moments of subspace are described pleasantly); the word 'MILF' is used to describe the reader - as a joke, and because Spencer doesn't fully understand the context.

The actual smutty meat of the fic (aka girl dinner) consists of: panty kink - Spencer wears a pair of lacy panties under his clothes while in public because it turns the reader on; praise kink - Spencer loves being praised; public/semi-public 'sex' (they don't have full-blown sex, it's just groping through clothing, and they are in a secluded area of a public place when it happens); risk of getting caught; strength kink - the reader exerts her strength over Spencer and he likes it; heated making out; hair pulling (Spencer receiving); groping through clothes (reader and Spencer receiving); Spencer cums in his pants while being groped; clothes sharing - Spencer wears the reader's clothes; the reader calls Spencer honey, sweetie, baby, pretty boy, good boy; Spencer calls the reader Miss; this fic does feature Mommy kink - Spencer starts calling the reader Mommy partway through; mentions of the reader wearing traditionally feminine lingerie; hand kink - the reader likes Spencer's hands; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Spencer's fingers); vaginal fingering/clitoral stimulation - the reader teaches Spencer how to finger her; Spencer edges the reader unintentionally; guided masturbation - Spencer masturbates for the reader; Spencer cums on the reader (by accident?); the reader licks some of Spencer's cum; mentions of pregnancy (Spencer likes the idea of getting the reader pregnant, but she is on birth control so it won't happen in this fic lmao); some mentions of aftercare (not as in depth as the previous fic); and I believe that's it.

A/N: I do intend for each part of this to possibly be read as a oneshot, so you don't have to read Lesson One in order for this to make sense narratively. But if you want more sub!Spencer stuff, then you should go back and read Lesson One just for your enjoyment. This makes reference to things that have happened in the first part, but you won't be utterly confused if you jump into reading this without reading the other one first. Anyway, I do hope you enjoy it, especially those of you that have been waiting for this part to come out!