#⟨⟨ thank god that i don’t look like what i been through — 「 musing. 」 ⟩⟩

[ducktoo]

Cheeky

IVE’s An Yujin x M!Reader

Note: Thank u @mintwithchoco for the prompt! It was fun to write this! (I might have post it a bit early but It's a bit too fluff to rot in the jail-

Hope yall got enough dose of lethal Yujin. Here’s a cutie Yujin for yall

(Can this woman not make me blush every single time-)

You have heard many opinions about An Yujin through her online exposure. Gorgeous yet strict, a natural professional and one of the most popular idols in the business.

So when you got hired as a personal bodyguard to IVE, you knew you had to be in your best behaviour. You were expecting a professional introduction. Maybe a polite handshake, a simple exchange of names, and a respectful nod—just like how it had been with every other client before.

But no. Instead, the first thing you got was laughter.

Loud, unabashed laughter.

You had barely stepped into the practice room, clad in your sharp black suit with an earpiece securely in place, when Yujin spun around mid-dance routine, caught sight of you, and nearly collapsed from laughing too hard.

"Oh my god, you look so serious!" She practically wheezed, hands on her knees.

You blinked, your professional composure wavering just slightly. That’s not the usual reaction.

"...Excuse me?"

She straightened up, still giggling, and gave you a once-over. "You're my new bodyguard, right? Wow, we’re the same age, but you look like you’re about to arrest me or something."

Yujin wiped at the corner of her eyes and grinned as she strolled up to you, radiating the kind of unbothered energy that made your brow twitch. Well this is…going to be a pain.

"Well at least I do look the part, no?" you asked, straightening your vest as you clear your throat . "I’m literally here to keep you safe."

"Oh, I’m very grateful." Yujin smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in her eye. "But I was kinda hoping for someone... I don���t know, scarier? You look way too nice."

You stared at her, unimpressed. "I can be scary."

"Yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

You sighed and took a step forward, dropping your voice into a low, stern tone. "If you don't follow security protocol, I will personally make sure you regret it."

For a moment, Yujin's eyes widened, and you thought—just for a second—that she would actually take you seriously.

Then she grinned even wider.

“Ohhh,” she mused, stepping even closer, her face just inches from yours. “I like you already.”

You had a very bad feeling about this.

-

If you had known what was coming, you would’ve quit on the spot.

An Yujin, despite her public image of being a charming, responsible leader, was actually a menace.

If she wasn’t sneaking off to buy snacks at the nearby convenience stores without telling anyone, she was hiding behind doors just to jump-scare you. And the worst part? The other IVE members had joined in on it…but mostly Yujin.

"Come on, just one smile," Yujin teased one afternoon, poking your cheek while you stood guard by the van. "You've been with us for months, and I still haven't seen you laugh."

You exhaled through your nose. "My job is to protect you, not to entertain you."

"That’s so boring. How do you survive without fun?"

"By keeping a certain someone out of trouble." You shot her a pointed look.

Yujin gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Wow. Is that how you see me? Just a walking headache?"

You opened your mouth—because yes she was a giant headache to you—but she cut you off, suddenly leaning in way too close.

"What if I am your problem, huh?" she whispered, eyes glinting with playful challenge.

You held your ground, staring her down. "...Then I'll have to handle you accordingly, I suppose."

Instead of backing off, Yujin grinned wider. "I’d like to see you try."

Oh, she was insufferable. And unfortunately, you were stuck with her.

-

"You know," Yujin drawled, stretching across the couch in the waiting room like a cat in the sun. One arm hung off the side lazily, while the other rested behind her head, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you like me more than you let on."

You sighed, already used to her antics. "What makes you think that?"

Her lips curled upward, slow and knowing, like she had already won whatever game she was playing. "Because I'm fun. And charming. And incredibly good-looking." She struck an exaggerated pose, tilting her chin up dramatically like some kind of historical monarch.

Across the room, Wonyoung groaned, rubbing her temples. "Unnie, please. Have some dignity."

"You don’t want me to tell the truth?" Yujin gasped, clutching her chest in mock devastation, her mouth slightly parted as if she had just been personally attacked.

"I don't want you to embarrass us in front of our bodyguard," Wonyoung corrected, glancing at you apologetically.

You just shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. "I'm used to it."

Yujin’s eyes flickered with amusement, but instead of making another joke, her expression softened just slightly—like she had caught something in your tone that intrigued her. Then, just as quickly, the mischief returned. "See? That's basically an admission that you enjoy my company."

You gave her a deadpan look. "That is not what I said."

"Too late, I'm taking it as fact." She stretched her arms over her head, looking far too pleased with herself.

You exhaled through your nose, choosing to ignore her. If there was one thing you'd learned about An Yujin, it was that engaging with her nonsense only fuelled her further.

But despite all her teasing and the way she constantly pushed your buttons, there were moments when she reminded you why she was the leader of IVE.

Like now.

Liz sat in the corner of the room, staring down at her phone with her lips pressed into a tight line. She was fidgeting, her hands twisting together in her lap—a stark contrast to the usual easygoing energy she carried.

Yujin noticed instantly. Her playful expression melted away, replaced by something steadier. More grounded. She pushed herself off the couch, crossing the room in a few quick strides before crouching beside Liz.

"Jiwonie," she called softly, nudging her knee against Liz’s. "What’s up?"

Liz hesitated before sighing. "I feel like I keep messing up my parts in the choreography."

Yujin tilted her head, studying her with an unreadable expression. Then, instead of immediately reassuring her, she took a moment. Just a beat of silence—enough to let Liz’s words settle before responding.

"You don’t," Yujin said firmly. "We practiced together, remember? You’re doing fine."

"But—"

"No buts." Yujin stood up, walked over, and slung an arm around Liz’s shoulders, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "You know what I told you? The best performers aren’t the ones who get everything perfect all the time. They’re the ones who keep going no matter what."

Liz still looked uncertain, but a small smile tugged at her lips. "You really think so?"

"I know so." Yujin grinned. "Besides, if you mess up, I’ll just mess up too. That way, we’re both in trouble."

"That’s a terrible encouragement," you muttered.

Yujin turned her head slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, and the glint in her eyes was back. The glint. The one that usually meant trouble.

"It’s called leadership," Yujin shot back. "Ever heard of it?"

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, but you didn’t argue. Liz was smiling now, and that was proof enough that whatever Yujin was doing was working. She had a way of lifting her members’ spirits that was genuinely impressive.

Liz laughed, looking much more relaxed. "Thanks, unnie."

"Anytime," Yujin replied, patting her head before making her way back to her spot on the couch. As she passed you, she glanced up, smirking.

"See? I'm not just a pain in your ass."

"I never said that," you replied, but she only winked before plopping back onto the couch like she hadn’t just effortlessly reassured one of her members.

You sighed. Protecting An Yujin was exhausting… but you didn’t mind as much as you pretended to.

-

Your day off. A rare and precious thing.

You had been looking forward to it—no earpiece, no schedule to follow, no six-foot radius of hyper-vigilance around an overgrown puppy disguised as an idol. Just a quiet, peaceful day to yourself.

Or so you thought.

The realization hit you like a cruel joke when you spotted her.

An Yujin. Hoodie up, mask on, but you’d recognize her anywhere. The way she walked, slightly loose-limbed and confident, like the world was hers to navigate. The way she hummed under her breath as she glanced at store signs, completely unaware of how reckless she was being.

You groaned under your breath. Of course.

But before you could even question why she was out alone, without security, without backup, you saw him. A man. Mid-thirties. Dark hoodie. His posture was too stiff, his steps too calculated. He lingered a few feet behind Yujin, never overtaking her, never slowing down. His gaze flickered to her every few seconds, fingers twitching slightly as if waiting for something.

Your instincts kicked in immediately.

You followed her into a convenience store, keeping to the shelves as she strolled past the snack aisle. She had no idea. Her biggest concern at the moment was probably whether to get banana milk or iced coffee—completely oblivious to the shadow tailing her.

He lingered near the entrance, pretending to look at snacks but never actually picking anything up. His eyes were locked on Yujin, and his fingers twitched like he was waiting for the right moment.

Sasaeng. Your stomach turned cold.

You moved fast.

The moment Yujin left the store, you followed right behind. And just as the man reached out—

You grabbed his wrist. Tight.

A sharp intake of breath. The man's head snapped toward you, eyes widening in shock and irritation.

"The hell—?" he hissed, jerking back, but you didn’t let go.

Yujin spun around, startled. "Huh?—"

"Good afternoon, mister." You pulled her behind you instinctively, keeping your grip on the man. "I don’t know what you think you’re doing," you said, voice low and firm, "but walk away. Now."

The man scowled, trying to yank his arm free. "Who the hell are you?"

"Her bodyguard," you answered coldly. "And if you don’t leave in the next five seconds, you won’t like what happens next."

A flicker of hesitation. His eyes darted between you and Yujin, who was standing rigid behind you now, her usual carefree energy drained into something tense and alert.

Then, finally, the man sneered and yanked his arm free. "Tch. Not worth it," he muttered before disappearing into the crowd.

You stood there for a moment, making sure he was really gone, before exhaling.

And then you remembered the girl behind you.

"So…what the hell?" you snapped, turning to her. "Why are you alone?"

She blinked up at you, wide-eyed, still processing what just happened. "Uh…"

"You know how dangerous this is, right?" Your voice was sharper than usual, the adrenaline still running through you. "No staff, no backup, no security. What were you thinking?"

Yujin finally seemed to snap out of it, rubbing the back of her neck. "...I just wanted to go out for a bit. I didn’t want to bother anyone."

Your fists clenched, the lingering adrenaline making your chest feel too tight. "You call this not bothering anyone? You're lucky I decided to go out right now you dunce."

She hesitated, shifting on her feet. Then, in a small voice, she admitted, "I didn’t even realize he was following me."

You exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Yujin," you muttered, softer this time, "this is exactly why you can’t go out alone. It’s not about you wanting freedom, it’s about your safety. There are people out there who—" You stopped, shaking your head. "Just... don’t do this again."

Silence stretched between you for a few seconds before Yujin suddenly smiled.

It wasn’t her usual teasing grin. It was softer. Almost... grateful.

"You really do care about me, huh?"

You groaned. "That’s what you’re taking from this?"

Her lips twitched, and just like that, the mischievous glint in her eyes was back. She nudged your arm playfully. "Admit it. You’d miss me if I got kidnapped."

"Don't make me use profanity you—"

"Fine, fine!" She laughed, hands up in surrender. But then she let out a breath, gaze flickering down for a second before meeting yours again, more earnest this time.

"Seriously, though," she murmured. "Thanks. I mean it."

You watched her for a moment, noting the way her usual carefree mask had cracked just a little. The way her eyes, despite the teasing, held something like genuine gratitude. She nudged you playfully. "Guess I owe you one, huh?"

"More like you owe me about a hundred at this point," you muttered, finally relaxing.

Yujin grinned. "Then I’ll start by buying you lunch. C’mon, bodyguard. Let’s eat."

And despite everything, despite the fact that this was supposed to be your day off, you found yourself walking beside her, watching her laugh like nothing had happened.

-

You should’ve known saving An Yujin would have consequences.

Not in the form of a promotion or a bonus (though you wouldn’t say no to either), but in the absolute menace she had become ever since that day.

At first, you thought you were imagining things—the longer stares, the way her lips curled mischievously whenever she caught your eye, the subtle brushes of her fingers against your arm whenever she passed by.

Then, the touches became more deliberate. The teasing got more frequent. The closeness is more unbearable.

It was like a switch had flipped. Suddenly, your personal space was no longer yours. And the worst part? She did it so naturally, like she had always been this clingy with you.

Just like this one morning at the company building—

"Mr. Bodyguaaard~" Yujin sang as she threw an arm over your shoulders, completely ignoring the amused stares of the staff around you. "Walk me to the practice room!"

You exhaled. "Yujin, You know I’m going there anyway."

"But this way is more fun." She tightened her grip, practically hanging off you.

You gave her a look. "...Do you have to be this close?"

"Yes," she said simply, grinning.

It only got worse after a long schedule. You were expecting Yujin to slump in exhaustion like she usually did. Instead, the moment she climbed into the van, she scooted over without hesitation, settling in way too close before dropping her head onto your shoulder with a satisfied sigh.

Your entire body stiffened.

"What are you doing?" you asked, voice flat, not daring to move.

"Getting comfortable," she mumbled, shifting slightly as if trying to mold herself against you.

Your brow twitched. "You have an entire seat to yourself."

"But I don’t want to sit alone," she said simply, eyes fluttering shut. "You’re warm."

Across from you, Wonyoung and Liz exchanged knowing looks.

"Oh no," Gaeul muttered, covering her mouth to hide a laugh.

"I don’t get it," Wonyoung whispered, glancing between you and Yujin. "Since when were they this close?"

Liz smirked. "Since someone got rescued and suddenly realized how cool their bodyguard is."

You sighed. "I heard that, Jiwon."

"I'm glad you did," Liz cheekily shot back.

Meanwhile, Yujin hummed in contentment, completely ignoring the stares and the muffled giggles of her members. As if your shoulder was the perfect place to rest, she nestled in further, her soft breath fanning against your neck.

You felt heat creep up your collar.

"...Heavy," you muttered, shifting slightly.

"Comfy," she countered with a teasing lilt, her lips curling into a lazy grin.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Gaeul shaking her head. "This is getting dangerous."

Liz, meanwhile, giggled behind her hand. "We should start selling tickets to this slow-burn romance."

You groaned. Yujin? She just smirked.

Her clingy antics doesn't stop in the comfort of their dorm, unfortunately. Before their music show performance, you were standing near the dressing room door, waiting for the members to finish.

And then the door swung open.

Yujin strolled out like she was making a grand entrance, her hair freshly styled, her makeup flawless—looking every bit the idol she was.

And then, in one smooth motion, she reached out, grabbed your hand, and laced her fingers with yours.

Your brain lagged.

"Let’s go, mister!" she announced.

You blinked. "Why are you holding my hand—?"

"You saved me, so now I’m keeping you close!" she said cheerfully. "You're my lucky charm!"

Behind her, Leeseo’s jaw dropped. Liz and Rei had to turn away to hide their laughter.

"Yujin," you hissed under your breath, trying to pull away.

She only tightened her grip.

"Nope," she said. "Mine now."

You could physically feel Wonyoung’s migraine forming. "You cannot just say that out loud," Wonyoung groaned, covering her face.

"I just did." Yujin smirked, swinging your intertwined hands slightly, watching your reaction with delight.

Liz and Rei lost it, muffling their laughter behind their hands.

At that moment, a staff member walked by, did a double-take at your very obvious hand-holding situation, and nearly tripped.

You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

-

You really should have been more prepared for this.

It happened at the airport, in front of dozens of fans, reporters, and flashing cameras.

You were walking beside Yujin, scanning the crowd for any potential threats, keeping a careful distance—when suddenly—

"Honey~!"

You froze. The world stopped.

Gasps. Shrieks. Camera flashes directly in your face.

Even the security personnel ahead of you paused.

Your entire being short-circuited. "What did you just call me?"

Yujin, completely unbothered, turned to you with an innocent smile. "Honey~" she repeated, her voice sweet as sugar.

Wonyoung, Gaeul, and Rei screamed.

 Leeseo was flabbergasted, with Liz quickly covering the youngest's ear from behind.

Even the fans were losing their minds.

"OH MY GOD—"

"WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY—"

"HUH?!?!?"

"YUJIN CALLED HER BODYGUARD HONEY?!?!"

"What. The. Hell. Yujin?!" Your ears burned with embarrassment. "Are you trying to make me headline Dispatch?"

"You take care of me," Yujin said smoothly, not missing a beat. "You protect me, you make sure I eat, you saved my life—so obviously, you're my honey."

"You cannot just say that out loud in public," you hissed, absolutely mortified.

"But I just did," she replied with a grin, eyes twinkling with mischief.

You quickly cover her mouth, frantically trying to damage control. "STOP!!!!"

At this point, Wonyoung had buried her face in her hands, physically unable to process what was happening. Gaeul was bent over, wheezing. Rei looked like she was watching the most dramatic plot twist unfold in real life.

A fan nearby whispered to their friend, "Do you think they’re dating?"

You nearly collapsed.

And Yujin?

She just tugged on your sleeve, eyes filled with amusement, and smiled. "Come on, honey. Let’s go."

And as you caught the knowing grins of her members, the delighted chaos among the fans, and the sheer horror on your own face reflected in the airport glass, you realized something.

You didn’t just save An Yujin.

You unleashed a monster.

[milfsloverblog]

HIIII OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM! I JUST HAD LIKE THIS POP INTO MY BRAIN AND I THOUGHT YOU MAY LIKE IT!

MAYBE! brienne x femreader. READEERRRRR is super forward and blunt and sweet with brienne at first assumed a knight would want to be courted that way and that she couldn’t be shy with brienne!

And brienne isn’t used to it and sort of grows distant and nervous (a touch of angst FOR FUNZIES IF YOU WANT) ! (Can’t blame our shy queen!)

BUT THENNNN

Reader goes all shy and dejected and avoids brienne out of guilt THENNNN assumes brienne doesn’t like women OR just her THEN BRIENNE ENDS UP TOTALLY MAKING READER SWOON INTENTIONALLY TO MAKE READER SHY THEN HAPPY ENDING YAY

ANY GAPS IN MY PLOT YOU FILL WITH YOUR GENIUSSSSS ❤️ I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

Unarmored

Brienne of Tarth x fem!reader

A/N: Thanks for the request, I really enjoyed writing this!! Hope you’ll like it!

Brienne of Tarth had been in countless battles, faced men twice her size, and sworn oaths that bound her very being. She had fought, bled, and endured scorn from the day she first picked up a sword.

And yet, nothing in her life had prepared her for you.

The king’s daughter was relentless.

From the moment you first set your sights on her, you had pursued her with the same unwavering determination she had only ever seen on the battlefield. You were utterly fearless in the way you chased after what you wanted.

And, gods help her, what you wanted was her.

Brienne had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

The first time you truly caught her off guard, she had been training in the courtyard. The morning air was crisp, and the clash of steel rang loud against stone walls as she moved through her drills. The weight of her sword was familiar in her hands, the rhythm of combat grounding.

And then you arrived.

"Ser Brienne," you called, your voice smooth as honey, “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Brienne, mid-swing, nearly fumbled her grip. She turned to face you, cheeks already heating. “I— I would never avoid my lady,” she said stiffly, standing at attention.

You hummed, stepping closer, your skirts swaying with the movement. “Good. Because I’d be terribly heartbroken if you did.”

Brienne clenched her jaw, gripping the hilt of her sword tighter. She had no idea how to handle this.

You tilted your head, watching her carefully. "A knight as noble as you surely knows the pain of heartbreak, don’t you?"

Brienne swallowed. "I— I suppose," she muttered.

You sighed dramatically, placing a hand over your heart. "Then you wouldn't dare be the cause of mine."

Brienne had faced warlords, assassins, and even a bear once. And yet, she could not stop the heat rising in her cheeks.

You grinned, clearly enjoying the effect you had on her. "I'll take your silence as agreement, then."

And with that, you turned on your heel, leaving her standing there—stunned, breathless, and entirely unprepared for what was to come.

It didn’t stop there.

The next day, you found her in the stables, brushing down her horse. She had hoped for a quiet moment to collect herself, but you had other plans.

“I imagine being a knight means you’ve never been properly courted,” you mused, watching her work.

Brienne stilled, fingers freezing over the mare’s mane. “I… suppose not.”

You tsked. “What a crime. A woman as strong and beautiful as you deserves to be showered with affection.”

Brienne’s breath caught. She turned sharply, searching your face for any sign of jest. But there was none. You were just… looking at her, like you meant every word.

“My lady,” she stammered, “you shouldn’t say such things.”

“Why not?” You tilted your head. “It’s the truth.”

She swallowed, heart hammering against her ribs. She had trained all her life to handle a sword, to stand against the most fearsome of warriors, and yet here she was, bested by nothing more than your words.

And it only got worse from there.

You truly were relentless, slipping into her presence whenever possible, showering her with compliments and teasing remarks that left her utterly undone. It was dangerous—your attention, your easy confidence.

One evening, as she escorted you through the castle halls, you sighed dramatically. “You know, Brienne, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a strong pair of arms hold me at night.”

Brienne nearly choked on air. “M-My lady?”

You glanced up at her, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Surely you wouldn’t leave a poor princess cold and alone?”

Brienne’s entire body tensed. “I— I—”

You smiled at her, all softness and warmth. “I’m only teasing, Brienne.” Then, after a pause: “Unless, of course, you’d like to keep me warm.”

That was the moment Brienne decided she might actually perish.

She needed to get away.

At first, she thought distance would fix it.

She kept her interactions with you short, avoided your gaze when you spoke, and responded only with curt nods or rushed words. She told herself it was for the best, that you would tire of this game and move on.

But she hadn’t expected you to retreat entirely.

Gone were the teasing remarks, the lingering touches, the smiles meant just for her. You no longer sought her out in the halls, no longer appeared in the training yard or the stables.

And Brienne hated it.

She missed the way your eyes lit up when you saw her, the way you leaned in too close when you spoke, the way your words made her feel—wanted.

She missed you. Desperately.

It was unbearable.

Her mind raced with doubts. Did you tire of her? Had she made a fool of herself? She knew how she had been acting—shaky, uncertain, too vulnerable—but she had never been trained for this. It wasn’t battle, wasn’t anything she could fight off with her sword.

It was you.

So, when she found you alone in the gardens one evening, staring up at the sky with a distant expression, she did something reckless.

“My lady,” she called out, voice softer than she intended.

You turned, blinking in surprise. “Brienne.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, hesitantly, Brienne stepped closer. “I— I owe you an apology.”

Your brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For… avoiding you.” She exhaled sharply, gaze dropping to the ground. “It wasn’t because I didn’t— I mean, I wasn’t—” She shut her eyes briefly before forcing herself to look at you. “You make me nervous.”

You blinked. Then, to her utter horror, you grinned.

“I knew it,” you declared, stepping forward. “You are shy.”

Brienne groaned, covering her face with her hand. “Gods, you are impossible.”

You laughed, then reached out, taking her hand in yours. Brienne’s breath hitched, but she didn’t pull away.

“Brienne,” you said softly, voice losing its usual teasing edge. “If I overstepped, if I made you uncomfortable, you can tell me. But if it’s something else—” Your fingers squeezed hers. “I’d rather you be the one to tell me what you want.”

Brienne swallowed hard. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she lifted your hand to her lips and pressed a reverent kiss to your knuckles.

“I want you,” she murmured against your skin.

Your breath hitched.

And then, for the first time since this whole mess had begun, you were the one left speechless.

Brienne smirked.

Yes. She could definitely get used to this.

The next morning, Brienne walked into the great hall with a newfound sense of confidence.

She found you sitting at the long table, speaking with a handmaiden.

Brienne didn’t hesitate.

“My lady,” she said smoothly, bowing her head. “You look breathtaking this morning.”

You nearly knocked over your goblet.

Brienne bit back a smile.

“Oh,” you said, blinking at her. “Thank you, Brienne, I—”

Brienne leaned in slightly, lowering her voice just enough for only you to hear. “Would it fluster you if I told you I dreamt of you last night?”

Your lips parted, your breath caught.

Brienne smirked.

Victory.

————————————————————————

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[esote-rika]

derision as prelude to desire | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Waldorf!Reader

Category: smut 18+ MDNI, fluff if you squint

Summary: Spencer Reid’s new coworker is mean but one night doing overtime together leads to the two of them bonding.

Content: glasses!Spencer, workplace rivals if you squint, Spencer Reid vs technology, reader is kind of mean and based on Blair Waldorf (in background, looks, and personality), Spencer is petty, his mind is in the GUTTER, use of eye drops, making out, sub!Spencer, fingering, oral (male receiving), whining and begging glasses!Spencer. Let’s pretend the BAU doesn’t have any CCTV cameras for this one m’kay thanks

Word count: 3.6k

A/N: This is an ITCH in my brain, like I’ve been thinking about a Spencer Reid x Blair Waldorf crackship since August last year it’s actually concerning. One of my favorite ship dynamics is loser boy x popular girl, so it makes sense. Still in second person to make it immersive. This isn’t a crossover, so there will be no spoilers for Gossip Girl. The reader's personality, looks and background are just based on Blair. Let me know if you want to read more of this dynamic because I have so many ideas for it oh my god. I hope you enjoy it!

Spencer Reid often muses on the series of events that had brought you from the streets of the Upper East Side to work in Quantico, Virginia. It would be easy to ask, of course, or even have Penelope do a quick background check on you, but he’s made a game of it instead, piecing together what he knows of your history, filling in the blanks of what would have gone wrong, what decisions you would have taken, in order to leave the privileged life you led and enter public service.

As far as he had been concerned, you don’t belong anywhere near the FBI, let alone the BAU. Spoiled, rich, with a mean streak he is all too familiar with from his time in school.  

He had been so sure you wouldn’t fit in when you first joined the team. You had been, and continue to be, perfectly made, every single hair shiny and curled just so, heels always so shiny and matching whatever designer bag you have slung over your shoulder. Everything about you screams high maintenance, and his profiler instincts point to several things: uncooperative, wants everything handed to you, ditzy.

But then you had shown your cards, had proved his assessment so wrong and he could never forgive you for the sting of that defeat.

It doesn’t help that you seem to enjoy riling him up as well. Every case is an opportunity to one up him, an attempt to claim his spot and it’s unfair. You already have everything, yet you still refuse to yield the title of team genius to him, the one thing he can cling to, the thing he knows is his. 

He is still glowering today, four months into your employment, passive aggressively hitting the keys on his keyboard. He’s a slow typist, and he’d agreed to write Morgan’s reports for him this week, a favor between friends he’s now beginning to regret. You are the only one keeping him company. The rest of the team has already left hours ago, but you’re typing away at your desk, fingers flying through the keyboard without even a glance. His own skills seem laughable in comparison, going at the keys one by one, with the speed of an old grandparent squinting over a typewriter instead of a man in his twenties. 

“Take a picture, Reid, it’ll last longer.”

He blinks, forcing his eyes back to the monitor. “You’re so original.” he mutters, pushing his glasses up to nestle on top of his head. He rubs his eyes, already despising the glare of the screen.

“Aw, what, the genius can’t handle a little blue light?”

He doesn’t bother with a response, blinking at the screen instead. The sooner he can get this done, the sooner he can leave. Sounds of tapping keys fill the air again, but he stops after a few moments again, rubbing at his eyes. He hears a sigh, and then your voice again, haughty but somehow concerned.

“You’re not supposed to rub your eyes, it makes it worse.” 

“I know,” he grumbles, “I don’t need you lecturing me about the importance of eye health.”

“It seems like you do, since you’re still doing it.” you reply derisively. He’d be rolling his eyes if he isn’t too busy rubbing them.

“Here,” you say, “Catch.”

Confused, he lifts his head, only to flinch as something hurls right at him. “What-” it hits his desk, then bounces off.

“Oh, look what you’ve done, genius.”

“You threw it at me.” his lips are pulled into a tight line of disapproval, “A head’s up would have been nice.”

“I did, genius, I said catch. You just have the reflexes of an eighty year old.” your voice is tinged with annoyance.

To his surprise, you’re up and walking to his desk, heels echoing in the empty bullpen. He watches as you gingerly kneel on the ground, bending down, and his eyes grow wide. The image of you bent down like this is surprisingly enticing, your skirt straining against the soft curve of your hips, hair falling down your shoulders like a curtain of the night sky. You’ve gotten close enough that he can smell your perfume, something citrusy and clean, and he subconsciously leans closer.

Mouth dry, he manages to croak out, “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find the damn eye drops.” you snap, an arm extending towards him and for a moment he holds his breath, waiting for contact. Instead, you grab something from the ground, “There it is.” 

He watches as you straighten, lifting your torso upright, but still kneeling in front of him. An image flashes through his mind, your face between his thighs, those large eyes staring up at him, but he banishes it quickly lest his thoughts begin to stir his body. 

“Here, these should help.” You say, finally standing back up and placing the tiny bottle on his desk. A filthy part of him wishes you’d get back on your knees. He catches the tilt of your head, the confusion in your eyes, “Reid. Are you still with me? Has your brain finally short circuited from all those statistics?”

Oh his brain is short circuiting, all right, just from a different cause.

“I’m - yeah.” he replies, and then he rattles off the first thought his frazzled mind could come up with, “Did you know some people have used eye drops as a method for murder? Not these ones, but there are specific brands that contain—”

“Tetrahydrozoline,” you finish for him, “Yeah, I know.”

He blinks. There you go again, proving your intellect, your value, somehow matching his even though he’s pretty sure you are no genius, not in the same way he is. Still, perhaps it’s the late night, or your offer of relief, but the sting of being bested doesn’t resonate tonight. A softer feeling unfurls in his chest, something warm and addictive, something like understanding. He smiles, “That’s right.”

You nod, curls spilling over your shoulders again, “Mhm. Well… These are for your eyes, I’m not trying to poison you.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

A scoff, “Please, I’m not dumb enough to attempt murder in the office.”

His brows lift and he finds himself grinning, “So you’ve thought about it?”

“I will neither deny nor confirm.” you’re smiling now too, and he lets his eyes roam over the pretty lines of your face, memorizing how lovely you look in this moment, guards lowered and smiling at him with ease. He thinks he sees something flash in those pretty eyes of yours but he’s not sure. Reading people has never been his strong suit, regardless of his profession.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” you gesture at his glasses, and he immediately obeys, pushing it back up to nestle on his hair. He holds his breath as you come closer, bites his lips when your hand comes to his chin. It’s soft, unbelievably gentle, and you tilt his head back. From this angle, he can see the way your lashes curl, the soft hint of shimmer swept across your lids. Eyeshadow, he remembers from what Penelope and JJ have told him, and it highlights the shape of your eyes, making them appear brighter.  

He blinks as coolness hits his eye, and then you’re tilting his head to the other side, and he’s trying not to panic, trying not to be a creep, but in reality, he hasn’t been this close, this intimate to a woman in so long that it’s messing up his ability to inhale, to think, to function. Your hair flutters gently around his face, and the scent of citrus is stronger now, heady, and he feels so light headed he’s afraid he’ll faint.

The same coolness hits the other eye, and before you can pull away, before he can think it through, he’s curling his own hand over your wrist. He lifts it up, pressing a kiss to the inside of your palm, admonishing any thoughts of germs and bacteria, and instead relishing at the tender flesh beneath his lips. He kisses your palm again, lips gently tracing the lines, before moving down to the inside of your wrist, before pausing.

He dares to peer up, waiting for a reprimand, a cutting sentence that would have him lashing back at you, but there’s none. There it is again, the flicker in your eyes, and now he finally knows the word to attach to it: desire.

He kisses the inside of your wrist again, and feels you pulse fluttering beneath his lips. Fast, to his surprise, almost matching the quick succession of thudding in his chest. 

“Reid,” you whisper, and he waits again, allows you time to pull away. You don’t, but he’s apprehensive now, afraid he’s crossed a boundary. He definitely has, but he would do it again if you express the desire to do so, to tumble into whatever this is with him. He just needs confirmation, one verbal acknowledgement that you want this too, because he doesn’t trust his ability to read you yet, not when he’s spent so much time despising you.

But you’re just looking at him, and the embarrassment is almost painful. His cheeks heat up, and he drops your hand.

“I’m sorry.” he murmurs, sinking back on his seat. He’s about to turn to his monitor, intent to forget about this, forget everything even though his memory would make that impossible, but he finds his face being tilted up again, cradled between impossibly soft hands, and then there’s lips against his own, your lips, oh god you are kissing him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, following the movement of your mouth to the best of his limited ability. Your teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lets out an involuntary whimper, his body jerking at the sting. He feels you smiling against his mouth, cocky even in the midst of a kiss, in the midst of the most heated kiss he’s had since - since - he can’t even remember her, the brief dalliance he had with an actress once upon a time, because all he can think of is your mouth, and your hands, nails scratching at his scalp, and every single thought is expelled from his mind when you climb on his lap.

“God,” he moans in between kisses, his breaths ragged, but he would gladly drown in you before stopping.

“Not god,” you correct him and nip at his lower lip with more force this time.

“Mhm.” he whines, and kisses you again, shifting so you’re more comfortable on his lap. He wonders if the chair is creaking from your combined weight, but then you’re grinding directly on his cock and he’s lost in a haze of white hot pleasure. 

Apparently, Spencer Reid cannot multitask, because his lips fall slack as you grind against his hardening cock. Your laughter tinkles in his ear, before your mouth latches on his jaw, down his neck, open and wet and sticky. He knows you said you aren’t god, and he’s never been religious, but he swears this must be heaven. Fitting too, in the same way he’s never thought he’d reach some place he doesn’t even believe in, he’s also never thought he would have you—beautiful, infuriating, untouchable you—grinding on his lap with a desperation that borders frenzy.

Recognizing that your need burns you just as his is making him reckless, he manages to whisper, “Tell me— tell me what to do. How do I make you feel good?”

You giggle, taking one of his hands away from your waist and leading it under your skirt. The fabric has bunched up over your thighs, and he grips the smooth flesh greedily. But you have other ideas, and he’s eager to learn, so he lets you move his hand higher, until the tips of his fingers brush against moist fabric.

His mouth goes dry. You’ve soaked through your panties. 

“Like this?” he dips his fingers past the lace, his mouth falling open at the slick that’s gathered at your core. You have your face buried at his neck, lips and tongue still assaulting the tender skin there, but he feels you nod, feels the shudder that runs through you, and he takes those as a good sign. His touch is exploratory, gentle, fueled by an intoxication over the fact that you’re here and you’re enjoying it, you’re making those sounds for him. 

He’s awestruck rather than cocky, and when he slides his fingers into your pussy, he’s immediately trying to figure out a rhythm that would draw out those pretty noises from your lips. When he finds it, he sticks to it, greedily drinking in your moans, no matter how muffled they are against his neck.

There’s a sense of degeneracy to this whole thing. Fingering his coworker in the office, right there on his desk, he could get fired should this get out, they both could. Still, he’s never truly had anyone want him so unabashedly and he simply cannot stop. You had been the one to kiss him, after all, the lines in the sand had been completely trampled by the time you had climbed on his lap. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper, and he feels you move, riding his hand shamelessly, and he has to bite your shoulder to keep himself from whining again. The sight alone nearly undoes him, and you’ve barely done anything. He’s been actively providing you with stimulation this whole time, fucking you with his fingers relentlessly, and somehow, he wouldn’t change a single thing. 

“Yeah?” he asks, pupils blown wide, wanting, needing the assurance that he’s doing good, he’s making you feel good.

“Yes, oh fuck, yes!” your voice grows sharper as he curls his fingers with every thrust. After a few moments of fumbling with your panties, his thumb presses against your clit and he’s rewarded by another groan from you. 

He draws figure eights against your slick core, finding a rhythm that has you tugging at his hair wildly, and he’s whispering into your ear, pleading, “That’s it, please come for me, please, let me see how good you feel, please, please—”

“Spencer!” you groan, and then you’re shuddering in his lap, and his fingers down to his knuckles are wet with your slick. 

He grins, helping you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to your hair, the FBI issued office chair creaking so much he’s afraid the two of you would break it if you don’t stop. The image is hilarious in its absurdity, making his grin widen, and you must have taken it for arrogance because he feels a slight smack on his shoulder.

“Don’t get cocky.” you mutter.

He takes you in, the flushed cheeks and hazy eyes, mascara now smudged along your lash lines, and he’s reverential instead of arrogant, grateful that he has brought someone so stunning and capable to the throes of pleasure, has taken you apart so much you’ve ruined your normally perfect facade. 

“You’re beautiful.” he tells you, his own eyes glistening with an unfocused daze. You roll your eyes and shake your head, and he’s seized with a desire to keep you hear and bury his fingers inside you over and over again until you believe him.

“Your turn.” You chuckle, hands unwinding from his neck and travelling down the length of his abdomen, coming to the buckle on his belt.

“Wait, I—uh,” he turns beet red once again, clearing his throat, “Are you on the pill? I don’t have—”

You tilt your head, as if the idea of a man walking around without a condom is foreign. Perhaps it is, but Spencer simply never assumed he would have any use for it. He turns away, teeth worrying his lower lip, but you pull his face to you again.

“I have hands.” you say as you resume undoing his pants. You shift, then slink away from him, and he whines at the loss of your warmth, but he sees you on your knees once again, and this time it’s not just his brain making up lewd, inappropriate thoughts, “And a mouth.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.”

“I know,” you grin, pretty as the devil and twice as tempting, and as your hands wrap around his engorged length, thumb circling at the tip, “But how can I not, when you’re this pretty?”

He blacks out, he swears he does, there’s no way this isn’t a perverted dream, no way that you’re actually stroking up and down his throbbing cock. Somehow he comes to, only to feel a warmth, a wetness, enveloping the swollen tip, and his hips buck up instinctively. He whines when your hands push at his thighs, holding him in place. 

“Please,” he gasps, babbles, really, “Please, oh god, that feels so good.” 

You take him further down and he throws his head back so violently the glasses slip past his ears and clatter onto the floor. He feels your laughter vibrating against his cock and it almost has him keening. He whines, wriggles against your hold with no real desire to break free. He finds that likes the force of your hands on him, nails leaving harsh indents on his flesh as he struggles. The pain is delicious, heightening his already frazzled senses.

You bob your head up and down, your hair swaying gently, and he manages to will his hands to move, gathering the soft tresses in his hand so they won’t impede your movement. Your eyes flicker up, meet his own, and he swears there’s a thank you in the glint of them. He cannot do anything else. 

Slack jawed, he watches you hollow your cheeks, saliva dripping down the sides of your mouth as you give him the best head he’s ever experienced. Never mind that it’s his first one, and that he doesn’t have a point of comparison. He’s convinced this is the best, you are the best, and he’s never been more thankful for his eidetic memory until this night, knowing that he cannot, will never, ever forget the way you look as you knelt down and sucked his cock like you were being paid to do it. 

“God, you’re so pretty, oh my god, yes, just like that, please, please, yes.” he’s aware that he’s whining, and there’s an amused twinkle in your eye that tells him he would never hear the end of this after. 

He knows you well enough to know that you would dangle this over his head any chance you get, that you aren’t above playing dirty. Instead of dread, it makes his stomach roil with another gush of desire, and he knows that that is even more concerning than whatever you were going to do.

(It never occurs to him to do the same, that he could tease you back and point out that he has had you on your knees and sucking on his cock like you were made for it simply because his brain cannot fathom ever associating the sight of you kneeling before him as something to be ashamed of.)

He’s drawn from his thoughts as he feels your hands cupping his balls, stimulating an entirely new area that has him thrusting up. He feels his cock brush against the back of your throat, and he pulls back immediately, eyes wide with worry as you gag around his length.

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby you can stop if—”

But you do it again, soldiering past your gag reflex and taking him all the way, and he can hear someone saying oh fuck oh fuck I’m cumming agh, please, I’m cumming, and he thinks its his own voice but he’s unsure. His eyes are squeezed shut, colors exploding behind his lids as he feels your tongue swirling over and over his sensitive cock, before the cool air surrounds it, telling him you’ve stopped completely.

When he opens his eyes, you have your head on his thigh, cheek pressed against the fabric, a lazy smile on your ruined lips.

“God,” he whispers, reaching for you, wanting you close, “That was—wow, you—come here, please.”

He watches as a flicker of surprise flits over your face, before you mask it with a giggle, “Good?” you murmur, tucking his soft cock into his pants before climbing on his lap again.

“Incredible.” He holds you tight, your slick only half dry on his fingers, the taste of him still on your tongue, “You’re incredible.”

You’re quiet, contemplative, and he presses a kiss to your neck, wanting to bring you out of whatever funk you’ve gone into, “Hey, what is it?” He’s almost terrified of the answer, worried you would pull away and leave him cold.

“I just didn’t think you’d be a cuddler.” you reply, eventually sinking into his arms. Your voice is soft when you say, “Most men aren’t.”

The thought of her having experiences doesn’t bother him; it’s the fact that they callously left her after that makes him tighten his hold on her. “I’m sorry.”

“For the entirety of shitty men? You’d need more apologies than that,” you chuckle, fingers absently curling into his hair, “But thank you. This is— this is nice.”

“It is,” Spencer nods, leaning into your touch, eyes shut.

“You lost your glasses.”

“I did.”

Your laughter fills the air, “Hey, are you sleepy? You still have Morgan’s reports to finish.”

His eyes flutter open, a sheepish smile on his lips, “Why’d you have to remind me?”

“Because the sooner you finish it, the sooner we can do this again.”

Spencer laughs, kissing your shoulder as he relents, “All right, all right.” That’s more than enough incentive to brave staring at the monitor again.

[beomcoups]

fated strut- pt. i

̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader

̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?

̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au, r 18+

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤

Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic. 

You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully. 

“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?” 

He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him. 

“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.

You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”

Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance. 

“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.” 

“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you. 

“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”

Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”

He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds. 

“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”

He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.

“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?” 

He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”

Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it. 

You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?

A few weeks later...

You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.

You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.

That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.

“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”

The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears. 

“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”

On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.

You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.

Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. 

You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful. 

“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”

You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry. 

“He’s okay,” you clear your throat. 

“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive. 

“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”

You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.” 

“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”

She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”

The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear. 

“Well, that’s too bad.” 

Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire. 

The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.” 

You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind. 

“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.” 

You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god. 

You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side. 

“Are you ready to go, doll?”

You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared. 

“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”

“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly. 

You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.

“Welcome in.” 

The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.

“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”

“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”

“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.” 

His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”

You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris. 

You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before. 

In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you. 

“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”

Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”

Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.

“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?” 

“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell. 

“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”

You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history. 

 Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that. 

You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up. 

“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”

He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful. 

You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover. 

“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.” 

You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?

“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”

Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway. 

“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.” 

“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”

“Are you?” 

“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”

You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?

“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”

Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself. 

“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”

“How?”

“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”

You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right. 

“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”

You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”

Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.

“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”

His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples. 

“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers. 

“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I just know what I like, that’s all.” 

Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless. 

His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently. 

“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter. 

“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.” 

“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”

“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after. 

“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”

“Say it, baby.” 

“Fuck, just make me cum, please.” 

Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.” 

Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of. 

“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”

Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.

“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.” 

“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”

“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.” 

His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last.  He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good. 

“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.” 

“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth. 

“Can I?”

You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you. 

Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down. 

“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” 

Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time. 

“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”

You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack. 

“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.” 

He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm. 

“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”

You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge. 

Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you. 

He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath. 

“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”

Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means. 

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.” 

His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him. 

Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie. 

He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles. 

“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”

He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”

He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.

“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”

You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts. 

Thank you for reading ^_^ if you would like to join my taglist, sign up here.

[the-californicationist]

Through a Glass, Darkly

A new priest is assigned to your remote abbey, but when you go to him for confession, you realize you are kneeling before the Devil himself.

Anonymous asked: Hiya Cali, crazy thought but happy october 🎃 brain worm, think about mirror sex with vampire!Price / 141 and the absolute flith that would pour from his mouth as he watches you stretch around seemingly nothing…

———

TW: vampirism, blood play, priest abuse of power, heavy religious imagery, fem!reader, rape/noncon, virginity loss, corruption, mind breaking, historical fantasy au, father/my child/sister religious titles, fully adult characters

You’ve been warned, and I don’t wanna hear it. Your click, your fault.

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. — 1 Corinthians 13:12

—x—x—x—

When Mr. Hawthorne arrived that morning with fresh milk, eggs, and a cart full of potatoes and turnips, you thought you would forget yourself and fling your hands around his fat neck. It had been weeks since supplies had been delivered, and although you lived in what was probably the smallest abbey in the world, you were just thankful that you had not been completely forgotten.

“Oh, thank you, Mister Hawthorne! We are so grateful for your service. The Lord rewards the generous,” you praised him.

The plump man’s face flushed red and he took off his sweaty cap, holding it limply in his hands,

“Tha’s alright, Sister. I had a good yield this season. You send a letter over to us if you need anything more. Hopefully that new priest will be arriving soon. Margie said she spotted him at the inn yesterday afternoon.”

“New priest?” You asked, wholly unaware of your abbey receiving an actual man of the cloth.

“Yes, Sister. He looks a little rugged for a holy man, but she said he was wearin’ the collar, clear as day.”

“Oh,” you mused, unsure of what to say.

“I’ll take my leave of you, Sister. Hope he’s a good one. It’ll be nice to have services back in the old church.”

“Yes, it will. Take care, and safe travels, sir. May God bless your next harvest.”

You watched as his rickety cart, pulled by an equally rotund mule, delivered the farmer away from you and your tiny sanctuary. As soon as he was out of sight, you rushed back through the wooden doors of the abbey to find Sister Ruth and Sister Sarah to tell them of the news.

They were both as shocked as you were. You had all three been convinced that the good Pope had completely forgotten about your little sect, and no letters had come for months. But, a new priest in this parish would bring much needed governance to the provincial people of your small village, and you needed to prepare.

You and your fellow nuns cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more. By nightfall, the abbey gleamed anew.

As you were preparing for bed, you heard the whinny of a horse outside of the abbey doors. You looked out into the corridor, and Sister Ruth was peeking out as well. Arming yourselves with long, steel fire pokers, you made your way to the entrance. Ruth nudged you with her elbow, encouraging you to call out. So, you said,

“It is past hours. Please come back tomorrow!”

“I’m Father John Price, and unless I’m mistaken, this is my abbey,” a deep, gravelly voice called out to you, seeming to flow and roll through the door with a convincing ease.

You cracked the wooden portal and looked out.

There, holding onto a frothy, exhausted steed was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He wore an all-black capello romano on his head, towering above you by at least a full cubit. His face was pale, protected from labors under the sun, but his hands looked like they had certainly known the true meaning of work. His body was well-muscled and immense. Even in the midst of his flowing black robes, you could see the bulging form of his shoulders stretching the fine fabric. Around his thick neck, his white clergy collar sat dutifully under a jutting Adam’s apple and a proud chin, shaven although the rest of his beard was trimmed to full length.

But it was his eyes that unnerved you. For all of his brutish form, the look in his gaze made your blood run cold. There was something hypnotizing about the pale blue irises. It made him seem almost inhuman.

That deep, purring voice returned, and he stepped closer to you, threatening your threshold with white, sharp teeth pulled in a tight smile,

“Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

“Forgive me, Father. Please, come in. Sister Ruth will take your horse to the stables. Allow me to take your bags and show you to your chamber.”

He followed behind you at a close distance, studying the abbey’s courtyard and walls, judging its worthiness. You were proud of the work you had done to keep it in good working order, but you knew it was in desperate need of repairs.

As you walked, you tried to make small talk to ease the tension,

“I have been in prayer thanking God for your arrival, Father. It has been many years since we have been blessed to house a priest within our abbey walls. Our parishioners will be filled with joy to return to their pews.”

“Mm.” His hum was polite but noncommittal, so you gave up on the niceties.

Finally, you reached his cell, you pried open the door and allowed him to enter before you. He studied the spartan room with the expected amount of enthusiasm, and watched you lay his bag down on the small chair at his desk. You straightened out the Bible that lay on the table, making sure the corner matched up with the edge of the table, placing it just so.

“Will you take supper, Father Price?”

“No, I am not hungry. You will find that I eat very little, in fact,” he said, taking off his cloak and laying it on the freshly-made bed. He hung his hat on its hook and tried to straighten his hair.

“Should I have a mirror brought in for your cell?” You asked, thinking that he may need to look presentable. As a nun, you never used a mirror as a rule, but you were willing to accommodate your new steward as best you could.

“Do you use a mirror, my child?” Price’s voice deepened and smoldered like a bundle of kindling, threatening to burn. He stepped toward you, using his size to impose himself upon you in the small space.

“N-n-no,” you stammered, “Of course not, Father. But I am not in a position to be perceived such as yourself.”

“Recite Proverbs 31:30, my child,” he commanded, stepping closer to you, slowly creeping into your personal space, close enough that you could smell the scent of the sun and the grass on his robes, mixing with the sweat of his skin.

You swallowed, clearing your throat, and obeyed,

“Yes, Father. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

“Good,” Price smiled, using his finger to lift your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes, “We must not succumb to vanity, my child. A dutiful disciple is one who serves others, yes?”

“Yes, Father,” you said, stepping backwards, away from his touch, hanging your head in reverence.

“In fact,” he purred, “It is James 1:23 which reminds us that those who look into the glass will be blinded by their own desires, only seeing themselves, incapable of suffering God’s divinity. It is the good works done that are worthy of praise, my child, although…”

He stepped forward again, grabbing your chin in his huge hand roughly, clutching the very bone of your jaw, making you gasp,

“Our Lord has taken special care to display his almighty talent in your face, has he not? Such delicate features. Like an angel.”

His mouth was so close to yours that you could smell the heady scent of iron and musk on his breath. His piercing eyes never left yours, pinning you in place.

Then, he released you, and you left the room without being dismissed, closing the cell door behind you and rushing back to your own cloister. You rushed into your room, locking the door fast, and knelt at your altar to pray for forgiveness.

Except… you were not asking to be forgiven for suggesting vanity to your new priest. No. You were asking to be forgiven for the warm, wet lust that was smearing across the crease of your thighs. Father Price had awakened strong feelings in you not of enlightenment, but of lurid desire, and you begged to be cleansed.

The next morning, Father Price called the abbey together. Yourself, Sister Ruth, and Sister Sarah reported to the small courtyard, along with two young pilgrims who had lived there since the past summer, Timothy and David. You and the nuns had suspected them as runaways, but they pledged themselves to the cloth and took care of the manual labor around the premises since you lacked any monks to speak of. They were well into their young adulthood now, and they would become apprentices to Father Price, if he saw fit.

You tried to put what had transpired between you and the good Father out of your mind, but seeing him in the cold light of day did nothing to quell the sinful desire you felt towards him. The way he had grabbed you…

“Good morrow, everyone. I ask that you will join me in our Biblical studies every morning. I find that the word of God helps me put the rest of my day right. I want to begin at the beginning, yes?”

He looked around at all of your faces, as if anyone would protest against his power, and then he continued,

“What does Genesis 4:7 tell us, Sister Ruth?”

“Speaking to Cain, the Lord said: If thou doest well, shalt thou not be accepted? and if thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door. And unto thee shall be his desire, and thou shalt rule over him.”

“Sin lieth at the door,” Father Price mused, then, as if shaking himself from his thought, he said, “Please continue, Sister.”

“And Cain talked with Abel, his brother: and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel, his brother, and slew him. And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?”

“You are,” the priest’s voice rose in his chest, startling Sister Ruth and silencing her words. He began to pace back and forth, slowly stalking through your small ranks, “You are your brother’s keeper. You are more than that. You are keepers of this entire parish, are you not?”

“Yes, Father,” you all said in unison.

“There will be a reckoning in this parish,” Price snarled, “I will not lead a flock of demons disguised as sheep. If any of you hear witness or see evidence of sin, deliver it to me at once. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Father,” you repeated.

“I will now take your confessions. I understand that it has been a number of years since you were cleansed, so be prepared to repent lest you allow the Devil into your soul.”

“Yes, Father.”

The day dragged on through the gray clouds, and Father Price had taken his time with the confessions of the members of your abbey. Sister Sarah had gone into his cell after the boys, and she had emerged with red eyes full of tears. You had comforted her in hushed whispers in the corner of her cloister, asking her what he had done, thinking it was something even more awful that how he had accosted you last night.

“He…” Sarah sobbed, “He made me kneel on sharp stones while I recited my prayers. It hurts so much, Sister.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Although sharp stones were not a gentle punishment, they were at least devoid of physical contact. He had not taken a hand to her. But, Sister Sarah was young. She had avoided some of the harsher training practices of the more traditional members of the church. You knew that there were a bevvy of punishments that would make kneeling in discomfort feel like a blessing.

Sister Ruth also came out sniffling, reporting that she had fifty lashes across her palms for the sin of plucking figs off of a nearby tree owned by the neighboring farm.

Again, you sighed and thanked God that he had a little mercy within him.

His cell door opened, and Father Price locked eyes with you and demanded,

“Come, my child. It is time for your confession.”

“Yes, Father Price,” you complied, taking your leave of the other nuns and following him into his cell.

Inside of his room, a shaft of sunlight cut across his face, illuminating his eyes and stunning you, keeping you from moving forward.

“Shut the door, my child,” his timbre was ominous, and you tried to hold yourself together.

“So far,” he rose from his seat and walked over to you, “I have cleansed the souls of a nun who is a thief, another who is a sloth, a young man who is a liar, and another who is filled with pride. It seems, Sister, that you have allowed the Devil through the door, indeed.”

“Forgive me, Father. I knew not of their wicked ways, nor have I your wisdom to correct them.” You stared at the stone floor. It was easier than looking at him.

“I do not believe that the wickedness was borne within them,” Father Price mused, tapping his finger on his lips as if deep in thought, “Because I discovered this beneath your mattress, and so I know the evil is inside of you.”

In his hands, Father Price held up a square, familiar, looking glass. You trembled, watching as your own reflection met you back. You could see the fear spread across your face, and you were disgusted by it.

“Tell me, my child. How did you use this mirror?” He asked sweetly, but as he watched you think about how best to answer the question, his voice became hot with fury and he snarled into your ear, “And don’t you dare lie to me. I will know your deceit.”

Your heart was banging in your chest, and so, beyond your better judgment, you told him the truth.

“I used it to… examine myself, Father.”

“Show me,” he commanded.

It was as if his whole cell bent and bowed under the weight of his authority. Your body began to move against your own will, relenting to his instead. Without thinking, you pulled back your habit and let your hair fall down your back. Then, you began to peel away your robes. Underneath, you untied your shift, and you allowed the fabric to pool on the floor at your feet, staring at yourself naked in the glass.

He watched you in silent awe, his pupils darkening, his mouth parted at his full lips, his chest heaving as he watched you make yourself bare before him.

“Go on,” he said, knowing that you were not finished with your demonstration.

You felt yourself obeying him helplessly, and you performed the same inspection that you did in private in front of him.

“I wanted to see how God hath made me, Father. So, I looked.”

“Where did you look, my child?”

“Here,” you raised your hands to squeeze the supple flesh of your breasts, showing him how your nipples were bouncy and puffy until they turned stiff and tight.

“And here,” you allowed your hand to fit itself between your thighs, spreading your labia, covered in dense hair, until your pliant lips revealed a shining, smooth center, wet and ready for pleasure.

“Now that you have examined the Lord’s fine works, what did you do with this knowledge?” Price asked.

“I would touch this part of me, Father, and I would let it bring me to Heaven.”

“I would like to know Heaven, my child. Turn around.”

You tried to stop yourself, but he was using his power to bind you. You were nothing more than a toy, helpless to his every whim. You turned, your back facing him, and he set the mirror on his desk so that you could see yourself within it. Then, he moved in front of you and his body blocked your view, reaching down to grab your chin like he had the first night he arrived, raising your mouth up to his.

You thought he would kiss you. His lips were just within reach, but he commanded you darkly,

“Confess.”

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” you recited dumbly, “It has been three years since my last confession. In that time, I have…”

His mouth covered yours, kissing you deeply, feeding you his long tongue and eating up your words before you could say them. Then, you felt his hands on your breasts, squeezing them cruelly, pinching your nipples to make them ache and sting. You couldn’t help the lewd sounds that escaped your throat, but he didn’t seem to care to stop you. Finally, he pulled away, and when you looked into his eyes again, the bright blue had been replaced with a Hellish red.

You gasped, and he grabbed you tighter, pulling you towards him by the soft meat of your breasts, making you cry out in agony. That noise seemed to please him because he smiled down at you, and you could see that his teeth had grown into long, wolf-like fangs. He chuckled,

“My pretty little sinner.”

“D-d-demon!” You cried breathlessly, shaking from fear as he held you to his body.

Price bared his fangs at your assessment, hissing from the title,

“Yes, and you have invited me in, so eager to be corrupted.”

Releasing you from his grip, he held you around your waist with one arm, and he used his free hand to dip between your legs, discovering your wetness there and sighing from it.

“Mmm… Let me taste your sweet, little Heaven, Sister.”

He knelt on the floor in front of you and held onto your wide ass cheeks in each hand, forcing your hips to tilt toward his face. You looked down and watched as his impossibly long tongue flicked against your swollen bud. His wide tongue parted your lips to drag wetly between them. You tried to hold back your cries, but you’d never known such pleasure, so you could barely keep it in. You prayed for forgiveness as you came apart against this demon’s mouth, succumbing to his vileness.

Then, you glanced into the mirror, and you noticed that you couldn’t see his head. Only the collar and robes were visible in the glass. All you could see is how your lips were being spread apart, seemingly on their own.

He had no reflection.

“You… you’re…” You couldn’t say the words, but Price knew what you meant to call him.

He looked over his shoulder, using his thumbs to spread your lips wide apart, gazing at them in the glass and smiling even though he didn’t have a reflection to smile at. Then, he looked back up at you, a sick grin spread across his lips,

“Cain, yes. The immortal wanderer, cursed from the earth which hath opened her mouth to receive my brother’s blood. And I have not tasted food, for it becomes ash in my mouth, just like He promised. But, blood… I can taste blood just fine.”

He planted the softest kisses between your shivering thighs, sucking on the thin skin, and then, after slaking his thirst with your sticky center once more, he sank his fangs right in the inside of your thigh, making you howl with pain.

His eyes were locked on yours, watching you writhe in agony, your nerves sensing his venom coursing through you as he sucked the life from your veins. You watched yourself in the mirror, seeing the puncture wounds, watching as blood spilled out across your skin, smearing and being licked away by his greedy tongue. Finally, he released you, and the poison of his mouth took effect. You became deeply fatigued, and you could barely stand on your own. He had to hold you in his arms to keep you in position.

He stood, smiling down at you, his mouth caked with your dark blood, his teeth stained red,

“What a blessing you are, my child. Such perfect innocence tastes so fine, so… pure. I almost hate to sour your ripe little fruit, but that will be sweet in its own way, yes?”

You watched as your demonic priest yanked at his collar, popping it from his neck. Then, he pulled off his robes, tearing away at his layers until he was as bare as you, both of you fully naked and pressed together, joined in a crash of skin and heat, his mouth painting your body with your own blood as he kissed and licked your breasts and belly, teasing you with his tongue as he explored you.

Then, he stepped around to your back, and you caught sight of his heavy cock as it swung between his legs like that of a rutting beast. You tried to fight the black spell you were under, but it was no use. You were trapped in his thrall.

“Watch yourself in the mirror, my child,” Father Price commanded you, grinning as you immediately obeyed, “Come and behold the marvelous works of God.”

You couldn’t turn your eyes away. You were alone in the mirror, and yet, your breasts were being crushed by invisible fists, your nipples tormented between unseen fingers. Then, you felt Price fit his phallus against the entrance of your sex and press it into you, stretching you wide across his prodding cockhead. You saw how your body was being invaded by him, pulling itself apart to allow him inside. The dark hole of your quim opened like a toothless maw, drooling and starving, hungry to take him deep within you, welcoming him up to your womb.

You sobbed at the strain, and then you felt something give way sharply inside you, and he had a much easier time of filling you with his engorged length. As he fucked himself up into you, he was grunting like an animal, praising you in your ear, telling you his own confession,

“Forgive me, my child, for I am sinning. Right now… I am sinning with you, and it is so sweet. God has made you for me. What a gift you are. See?”

He used his hand to swipe at your gaping hole, bringing his hand in front of your face so you could see the bright blood that coated his fingertips,

“You have broken so easily for me. The Lord knew you needed me to come and serve you. He brought me to you, my child. You welcomed me inside, didn’t you? Spread these lips for me, invited me in… Didn’t you? Say it.”

“Y-y-yes, F-father…” You whimpered, tears dripping down your chin and onto your bare chest.

The loud slapping of skin against skin filled the cell, and you watched as your hole spread wider and wider, taking more of him with each punishing thrust.

“Louder, my child,” he hissed in your ear.

“Yes, Father!”

His hand was playing in your slippery folds, massaging your hidden bud and forcing you to clench hard around him from the pleasure. In the glass, you could see your hole trying in vain to twist itself shut, pumping him in a steady beat.

“Didn’t you pray to God for a prick like mine when you touched your filthy quim in your mirror?”

“Yes, Father!”

It was true. You had touched yourself, hoping that you might one day know the pleasure of being taken by a man. You had watched the mating of cattle in the field next to the abbey many a summer past, hanging clothes and sheets on the line, and yet all the while looking into the grassy glade, staring at the bull who would mount his cow and thrust his turgid rod into her to breed her deeply. And she would croon for him, and when he left her, the spent seed would hang in long, thick strings from the head of his phallus, making him wet and ready to sink his sword through its next sheath.

“And the Lord answered your prayers, did he not? Begging him for someone to breed you like this, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Father!”

Price was the bull, and you would be bred by him, and you would be cast out of God’s mercy forever. Ruined. Steeped in sin and tainted by lust.

“You smell like a ripe plum, my sweet child, and you’re just as soft in my mouth,” Price began to lick your neck from your sloping shoulder all the way to your earlobe, over and over, letting his spit cover your flesh. Then, he sank his fangs into your vein and began to drink from you in long, slurping sucks, swallowing your blood into his throat in audible gulps, moaning with each mouthful of your essence.

The venom of his demonic bite made your head cloudy and your will compliant.

“Touch yourself, my child,” he mumbled, quickly returning to his feast on your flesh.

You had no choice but to obey. You felt him increase his pace, his long cock bottoming out inside of you with each thrust, flinging his weight into you like a hammer. You began touching your breasts, pinching yourself gently as you watched your ruination unfold in the looking glass, helpless to stop it.

Then, you began to touch your rigid nub, taking over for him as he continued to drink from you. You made achingly slow circles around your most sensitive spot, and because you were so wet, you were able to go faster without any discomfort. You made yourself come quickly, jerking your hips against him as he fucked you, listening to him groan from the feeling of your tight hole trying to squeeze the come out of his body.

“Beg me for my seed, Sister. Beg me to spill it in you,” Price murmured, licking your neck in the spot where he had bitten to rub the taste of your blood across his tongue.

“Father, please… Please come in me. Spill in me… oh!”

You felt him jerk inside of you, and then you heard his growling orgasm rip through his body, his cock pulsing wildly, shooting ropes of creamy seed all over your walls, bursting through your tight, virginal core.

“So perfect for me, so perfect…”

Price caught his breath while he was still inside of you, panting and smiling against your neck before he pulled out of you, watching his invisible shaft slip through your cunt in the mirror, the gaping hole slowly shrinking before your eyes. As he retreated, you saw large strings of come drip out of you, white and endless, flowing out of you and onto the floor of the cell.

Father Price dressed himself in front of you, leaving you standing where he had last commanded you to be, admiring your ruined body. Once he clipped his collar back under his shirt and cloak, he stepped in front of you to pinch lightly at the tips of your nipples again, making you whimper like a hungry mutt.

“For all your virtues, Sister, you are prone to sin. An innocent such as yourself must be trained to resist the Devil. Come to my cell for confession every morning and every night. I promise,” he stroked your cheek and then your neck, right where he’d bitten you, “I will put my goodness deep inside of you, my child. Right here.”

His other hand came to touch your bare belly, gently caressing the skin and flesh that protected your womb.

“Yes, Father,” you said, trying to avoid his furious gaze, shaking with pure, gut-wrenching terror, understanding that for you, there was no escape. You were under his vampiric command, and if he wanted you, your body was going to obey. You’d taken the Mark of Cain on your neck, and the only hope for you now was to beg for his mercy.

“Take this mirror with you, my child. I want you to kneel in prayer over it, spread those plump legs wide, and I want you to watch my seed drip out of you. With every drop, you will thank God for me and my prick. When the Lord answers our prayers, it is our duty to be grateful.”

“Yes, Father,” you said, pulling your robes back on and adjusting your habit.

He handed you the mirror, and you took it with a crushing amount of shame, feeling his come still seeping in a steady stream out of your well-used hole.

As you left his cell, he smiled down at you, carefully petting your cheek,

“Don’t worry, my child. Your next confession is in only a few hours. You will feel the warmth of the Lord’s forgiveness again very soon.”

—x—x—x—

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

AO3 Link

[suguru-getos]

୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 18﹕✦﹕┈・୧

-> Event Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader -> Overstimulation

Warnings: Overstimulation, cunnilingus, squirting, Bakugou being a soft yet commanding dom, nipple-play, fingering, breeding. Let me know if I missed anything please? Thank you!

Summary: The perfect way to unwind after work with Katsuki is to share the solace of a perfect dinner, followed by a perfect fuck fest. :3

The recent days in the Bakugou household had been weird, you were busy and so was your husband. You had recently decided to step out of being a Pro hero. It was a big decision and you were thankful that Katsuki was there, understanding your emotions, understanding what you’re going through and soothing you with it all the way.

With the judgemental hero society and the fact that you’d never be able to come home one of these days— your dream of having a family, taking care of a family & being a mother, a wife, a partner. It was all fleeting away, your determination and priorities shifting from protecting the people of Japan to now, protecting the house. Even so, you can’t help but pout when Katsuki comes home at odd hours, it’s been a week or so that you two got to spend some time together. Katsuki was yearning! So were you, for the matter.

Katsuki (2:17 pm): Hey princess

You: (3:00 pm): Oh hey there Suki

Katsuki (3:01 pm): Coming home early today, missing you too bad. Gonna prepare dinner & wait for you.

The text made you beam with joy, fuck! You missed Katsuki’s cooking & Katsuki spoiling you. All he’s done is been your sugar daddy, you wanted— needed some quality time with him.

You (3:02 pm): OH OFCCC!!!!

The rest of the day went by in a haze, Bakugou’s bulls eye was to reach home on time, to spoil his wife. “Kiri handle the patrol for me will ya?” He mumbled, finishing the paperwork & the approvals with the signatures needed for the recent Ad campaigns his PR team has bagged him for.

“Ah man, gonna spoil Y/N?” Kiri smirked, “How cute, it’s been a while since all of us hung out together you know?” Kiri emphasised, which made Katsuki irritated. He just wanted to leave his agency premises right now. “Yeh, patrol. Don’t forget.” With that, he left. Katsuki has changed being a 27 year old Pro hero who is seasoned with the elixir of how to behave and also the self awareness of how to talk. The frequent outbursts weren’t there, however— the fire in his personality still blazed threateningly.

When Bakugou reached home, he was all set to prepare things for his lady love. Stove blazing, his culinary skills all out with every intention of showing off. He ordered your favorite flowers, loads of them— enough to magically decorate the house, your favorite scented candles & by the time you reached home. (Around 8), you were greeted with a different sight altogether.

“Oh my god!” You whined, while Bakugou opened the door and kissed your forehead. “Welcome home Princess, don’t want y’ to forget how amazing I am.” He winked, laced with his sassy, adoring signature grin as he guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Go freshen up f’ me sweetheart. I’ve kept the dress I wan’ y’ to wear & want to see you in it kay?” You nodded blindingly, too enamoured by the preparations & the efforts Katsuki has done for you.

When you returned, the dinner was set properly, there were foods intermingled from Wasabi dipped sushi, Katsudon, some sweet mochi. Everything that you liked— or might like. The dinner was sweet, Bakugou let you unwind with some expensive roseé, listening to your babbling about what happened at work intently.

Before you knew it, you were being carried princess-style to the bedroom. Both you and Katsuki a little tipsy & you absolutely drowning in the warmth of his scent, in the comfort of his arms. “Let me unwrap my little present, yeah?” Bakugou hums, smiling tenderly and softly at you as he removes your dress off, leaving you in black lacey underwear.

“God damn, Princess.” he mused, licking his lip. “You look so fuckin’ gorgeous I feel like I’d lose my fuckin’ mind.” He smirks, leaning in and taking your panties off, gawking at your soaked pussy & your throbbing clit.

“Were thinking about being loved as much as me thinking about lovin’ you?” Katsuki hummed, not waiting for an answer and leaning in against your inviting folds, a soft groan escaping his parted lips, the moment he wrapped his lips around your needy clit. Thighs spread apart, and your legs falling over his shoulders. “You sound so cute moanin’ for me like that.” Katsuki smirks, gnawing at your clit and licking it over to soothe the irritation.

You were deliciously close to the edge, mouth agape, hands pulling at his hair closer & pussy clamping all up and all for him.

“Shit- mmgh- Katsuki, gonna—”

“Cum for me Princess, let me fuckin’ taste that sloppy cunt.” Your man daunted, the reverberations in his voice pushing you off the edge immediately. “Shit- hng.” Your body spasmed around his tongue, creaming all over him, meanwhile— Katsuki didn’t want to stop. It’s been a while since he’s away from his girl, he wants you, bad.

Your pleasure laced moans turned into gasps and whines, when your overstimulated clit found itself against Katsuki’s relentless thumb, “Give me another, yeah?” he croons, however it makes you feel that you don’t have any option but to— which is exactly what Katsuki wanted.

Leaning in and licking up your juices one last time, his thick, and long fingers found their way to your pussy. “Gonna make you squirt this time.” Katsuki smirked, leaning in and kissing your pelvis as two of his fingers nestled against your folds, curling upwards & against your G-spot.

A lewd moan escapes you when your body registers the pleasure on your clit and your G-spot at the same time.

“Oh my god—” You croak, clamping once again after Katsuki found the perfect rhythm to play with your sloppy pussy. He loved watching you whine and whimper when he goes on at your cunt until you cry.

“Gonna cum again sweetheart?” Katsuki cooed, watching your face contort with pleasure & smirking along. “Yes she will, yes she will.” he hums when he finds you speechless, drowning in pleasure with no escape.

Another, harsh and unforgiving orgasm rakes through you, and as promised, your body ended up complying to Katsuki, you ended up squirting your essence all over, screaming at the shattering waves of pleasure.

“Yeah, yeah baby, just like that.” Katsuki rode out your orgasm, not stopping when he finally unzipped himself, thrusting his cock balls deep in your twitching cunt. “Argh- fuck, so snug & tight.” He lewdly comments, not giving you any time to adjust and railing onto your sweet pussy. “Going to cum for me again, mhm?” He smirked, watching you try to push him away when his thumb finds it’s way back to your clit.

“Awh, don’t be a bad girl Princess.” He chided you gently, leaning in and swallowing your nipple, suckling on it and thrusting deep inside you. Tears glossed into your eyes at the threatening pleasure intermingled deliciously with the pain of overstimulation. The pain of feeling your senses on fire.

“Shit- I- I feel like- m’ close.” You gritted your teeth when Katsuki pulled the hood of your nerves, rubbing onto your now exposed bundle & watching you whine & squirm away to no avail.

“Go on, let your pussy massage daddy’s cock until he cums.” Katsuki leaned in, kissing you passionately and eating away all your moans when you finally, tipped off the edge again. Your overworked pussy spasming around him, clamping around him until ropes of his warm seed fill you up.

“Fuck- good- fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki groaned, stilling inside you, eyes softening when his senses complain to him about how far you’re gone. “Let it go Princess, gonna take care of you now. Leave it to me, yeah? Leave it to your Katsuki.”

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi! I've recently found your blog and first of all, let me say that you are brilliant! I read your fic about singer!reader x Hotch and I was wondering if you'd be open to write another fic/drabble about them? Like imagine it's Valkyrie's opening night of her tour for her new album, the entire team is there, and reader keeps looking/pointing at Hotch during the songs (like Taylor Swift is doing whenever Travis Kelce is there?) I just think Hotch would be so flustered it would be so cute *-*

No worries if you don't feel like writing this btw! Hope you have a great day!!

Opening night | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem singer!reader | WC: 1.1k | CW: nothing

A/N: Thank you so much! I’m glad you found my blog and hope you'll enjoy this one too! 💕

The venue buzzed with anticipation, the low hum of conversation and excited cheers weaving into a symphony of pre-show excitement from your fans. Your opener had just left the stage, almost jumping with excitement as she relayed how great the crowd had been. You loved seeing how energetic she was coming off the stage, knowing that you'd made the right choice in bringing a newer artist on tour with you, rather than the more established one your label had recommended during the planning meetings.

The stage was dark and wrapped in mystique as your crew moved around in the shadows, changing a few instruments out and moving some positions of others as they prepared the stage for you and your band.

The BAU team occupied a cluster of prime seats up on the balcony, their enthusiasm apparent in their attire and energy as they waited for you to come out.

Despite their excitement, no one matched Garcia's energy. She sat at the edge of her seat, ready to jump out of her seat, her bejeweled glasses catching the dim light. “I still can’t believe it,” she whispered for the fifth time that evening, shaking her head as if to reset her reality. “Hotch — our Hotch — is dating Valkyrie. THE Valkyrie. My favorite artist of all time. How does that even happen? What alternate dimension are we living in?” Hotch smiled quietly to himself as he listened to Garcia

“This is wild,” Morgan said, leaning back in his seat with a grin as he looked out over the stadium. “I still can’t believe we know Valkyrie. Like, know her know her.”

“She’s amazing,” JJ agreed. “This new album? Masterpiece.”

Rossi chuckled, sipping his whiskey. “I think we’re all in agreement. What about you, Aaron? Nervous to be the muse tonight?”

Hotch, seated at the edge of their group, straightened his tie and gave Rossi a glance. “I’m just here to support her,” he said simply, his tone calm, the usual stoic Hotchner tone that showed no emotion. But the slight tug at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement, a crack in his normal demeanor that didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the team.  

Garcia gasped dramatically, clutching her phone like it was a lifeline. “Oh my GOD, you’re blushing already!” she exclaimed, her fingers moving quickly to snap a picture. “This is going in the vault.”

Hotch sighed, but his smirk lingered. “Garcia put the phone away.”

“Absolutely not,” she replied, grinning as she angled for another shot. “This is for posterity, boss man. You’ll thank me later.”

Morgan leaned back in his seat, shaking his head with a laugh. “Posterity, huh? I think she just wants proof she knows someone famous by association.”

“Don’t we all?” JJ added with a grin, nudging Garcia.  

Before Hotch could muster a reply, the rest of the lights in the arena shut off, and the venue was plunged into darkness. A wave of energy rippled through the crowd, the excited murmur rising into a roar of cheers that shook the room. The stage lights remained off, the suspense growing as the audience clapped and whistled.  

Then it started — a chant, low at first but growing louder with each passing second as more and more of your fans caught onto it.  

“Valkyrie! Valkyrie! Valkyrie!”

Garcia clutched Morgan’s arm, her excitement bubbling over. “Do you hear that? That’s for her!”

Hotch leaned back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on the stage. The chant grew louder.  

The first note of the opening song rang out, clear and strong, echoing through the venue like a call to arms. The stage erupted in light, beams of gold and white cutting through the darkness as the music built to its first crescendo. Suddenly, a platform at the center of the stage began to rise, smoke swirling around its edges.

And there you were, emerging from the floor, your silhouette framed by the blinding spotlights behind you, creating a halo-like effect that made you look angelic. The crowd’s cheers exploded into an uproar, the sheer volume rattling the balcony where the BAU team sat.

You stepped forward with effortless grace, your breathtaking costume catching every flicker of light. It shimmered with each movement, the intricate detailing making you look like a constellation. The energy you radiated was magnetic — electric — and it pulled every eye in the room to you.

Hotch’s gaze never left you, although he could sense several men in the pit staring at you with hungry looks — he couldn't lie, it made him a little jealous and perhaps even a little overprotective, wanting to jump in a hide you away.

He’d seen you perform countless times, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the crowd or the grandeur of the venue; it was the unmistakable pride that welled in his chest watching you command the stage as you did.  

As you launched into the second song, your voice soaring effortlessly through the lyrics, you began scanning the crowd. Your smile widened when your eyes found him. You paused for the briefest moment, microphone in hand, before pointing directly at him.  

The reaction from the audience was deafening, a mix of cheers and laughter as people tried to decipher who the gesture was for. Hotch, however, stiffened in his seat, his normally composed self giving way to a look of wide-eyed surprise.  

“Oh no, she didn’t!” Morgan barked out, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against Rossi. “Hotch! You’ve been claimed!”

“She’s bold,” JJ whispered, grinning as she nudged Garcia.  

Garcia fanned herself dramatically. “Forget Hotch — I’m in love.”

Hotch shook his head, a small, embarrassed smile playing at his lips. He tugged at his tie, adjusting it more out of habit than necessity, and kept his focus on you.  

And you didn’t stop.  

As you moved through your set, you stole moments to lock eyes with him, a sly smile or a quick glance that sent the team into fits of laughter every time. During a particularly sultry number, you sauntered across the stage, letting the lyrics drip with honey as you zeroed in on him. The crowd saw a confident performer captivating her audience — although you were sure a few fans had caught on by now, and that you'd find edits and clips from tonight on social media in the following days — Hotch only saw you teasing him mercilessly.  

By the time you reached the final song, Hotch’s usual exterior had cracked. His tie was loose, his cheeks faintly pink, and his lips tugged into an almost constant smile.  

“She’s singing to you again,” Garcia teased, leaning over to snap another picture.  

Reid tilted his head. “Well actually, she’s pointed at him approximately seven times now in this song alone. That seems statistically significant.”

“Statistically significant” Morgan repeated in a mocking tone, laughing. “Reid, it means they're whipped for each other.”

Hotch leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving you, and shook his head. “You’re all ridiculous.”

But when you sent one last wink his way before stepping off stage before returning for the encore, even he couldn’t deny the truth.  

[totallynotashieldagent]

His Sweet Treat

Pairing: Beast World Jason Todd/Reader

Summary: Reader and Jason were together before he turned into a Beast. They're still together even now.

Author's Note: Everyone say thank you to @peachyyydrawz for making this Jason in this muzzle that inspired this monster smut for the new year.

hopefully this monster cock will bring prosperity and good fortune for us all in 2025.

“Don’t you dare whine now.” You huffed as you tied the muzzle around Jason’s snout and clipped it snuggly behind his head. 

The big burly beast tried to give you his best green puppy eyes and whined again. Pawing at the muzzle once more, nuzzling against your knee, begging to be let loose. 

“Nuh-uh!” You shook your head again. “This is staying on .” You glared and his ears flattened out. “We wouldn’t be needing this if someone didn’t lose control last night and tried biting at me while we fucked.” 

Jason immediately deflated at your crass words. 

That trait was still extremely human about him. How he got so shy whenever you talked about sex or anything sexual. 

“What?” You mused, “Don’t wanna talk about it now, huh?” You giggled softly, pulling at his muzzle, bringing his face close to yours, “You were very vocal yesterday.” 

He growled, pawing you away, trying to hide his face or himself entirely. Neither was possible. He was still too big, and you were still too confrontational. 

Jason finally managed to get away from your hands. Both his front paws hid his face as he crouched down to kneel at your feet. His muzzle scratched at your legs in protest. He was still very unhappy about it and deeply embarrassed of how crude you were now being. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.” You petted him like a dog. 

God, he hated how good it felt. How much he loved it. 

If he was still human, he would’ve told you to stop treating him like a pet but right now? Right now he felt like the world could burn and he wouldn’t care since your hands were touching him like that. God - His tail thumped against the ground. 

It didn’t matter that he was a seven-foot giant beast. For you? He was a docile little puppy. Eager to please, eager to be good . 

“Muzzle stays on, okay?” You cooed at him, “And I’ll let you do that thing again that you did last night…” 

Incentive? Jason’s ears perked up, his tail swishing side to side in anticipation. He nudged your knee and nodded quickly. He still hated this stupid muzzle. He couldn’t nip at you, lick you, and more importantly, he couldn’t leave any bite marks on you; which were very important to him because he liked marking you so much. But he knew he’d also do anything to be rewarded for being good. 

The whole day, he followed you around like a puppy. Helping however he could with whatever needed to be fixed in the safe house. 

After dinner, he laid flat on the floor, looking up at you. All four paws tucked underneath him. 

“You’re making a mess, Jay.” You laughed softly, a little salvia dripping from his muzzle. “Drooling like a puppy …” You said sultrily, just to egg him on.

A soft growl escaped him. He was already apologetic about misbehaving and being put in the stupid muzzle and now he felt like you were mocking him on top of it. He leaned up on his front hinds, his bright green eyes showing clear intention of Take off this muzzle and I’ll show you a mess.  

“No, baby. You lost control last night, remember?” You petted him gently. “I like the tiny bites here and there but you tore through the pillows. The couch is completely unusable now.” You pouted, scolding him and trying to keep yourself calm in the process too. As if him being a feral beast didn’t turn you on even more. 

In reality, you’d cum hard when he’d lost control. But in hindsight, currently, you were trying to make sure everything stayed safe if you two continued to … well, stay a couple.

Jason had always been bigger. Even as a human. But now? As a beast? He was huge. But you weren’t deterred by that. He was still him and he was still yours . 

He whimpered again, leaning up more, carefully treading further and further. Looking up at you, hoping you’d just give in if he gave you his puppy-eyes long enough. It usually worked. He knew it worked. You never stayed mad at him long, it was easy to sway you. You were so weak for him. 

The muzzle pressed against your thigh as he put his big face on your lap. He wanted to ignore the way you smelled but being this close, all he wanted to do was bury his snout in between your legs. Devour you whole but this godforsaken muzzle was in the fucking way. 

Jason growled again. This was more aggressive. Not the pleading, whining one from a few minutes ago. This was a warning for you to remove it or he’d make you sorry. 

You swallowed, looking down at him, his bright eyes looking up. Challenging you. A part of you wanted to take it off but the stronger part of you, wanted to say no. Wanted to push him, to make him get angry and rough. To lose control again. 

“Muzzle stays on.” You said again, your voice lacking conviction this time around, however. 

Jason purred at your shaky voice, pulling back and standing to his full height. You gulped audibly, looking up at him. The sheer size of him shooting straight to your core. He took in a deep breath, hunching over, his muzzle almost touching your face. 

He couldn’t speak anymore, but some words. Some choppy, growly, barely understandable ones would leave him if he forced it enough. 

“ Off .” He snarled and you shook your head. 

Your fists clenched at the edges of your dress. He gave you a once over. You were so fearless otherwise. But times like? In this safehouse, when he towered over you. You looked so small, so edible . He felt like the big bad wolf, and you? Fuck- You were his little red riding hood. 

One arm wrapped around your waist, hoisting you up against his furry chest. You squeaked at the sudden movement but didn’t protest or try to get away. Why would you, anyway? Your hands pressed against his chest, disappearing into the thick coat. 

Jason nudged at your face and like a docile prey, you craned your neck back for him. He inhaled deeply. You still smelled like him but the scent was fading quickly. 

He growled again, his teeth scraping against his muzzle, drool dripping down. How badly he wanted to bite at the column of your throat, leave his mark, mate you even though it had already been done countless times over. But you made him feel a certain type of way and he used to be able to control it better when he was human. But now? Now, it was near fucking impossible .

One whiff of you was enough to send him into a spiral and bring out all his animalistic instincts to the surface. 

You whimpered his name softly. The same way you’d last night when you’d arched under him and his claws had ripped into the sofa so deeply that it was a mess of cotton and wood right now. 

Jason’s other paw clawed his the back of the muzzle. “ Off .” He growled darkly again and this time you were sure that your underwear soaked through.

“You’ll behave?” You shivered against him, your hands reaching out and resting at the buckle lock, not undoing it but giving him the opportunity to be good for you. His tail swished rapidly and he nodded. “It’ll go back on if you lose control again.” 

That was a bald-faced lie. The muzzle wouldn’t go on unless he was actually close to causing damage or you wanted to rile him up to fuck you into oblivion. 

His intense eyes were laser-focused on you. Like a dog waiting for his treat, his body was practically vibrating for you to take the offending muzzle off. As soon as the buckle lock clicked open, he snarled and moved with such quickness that you didn’t even have the time to react. 

His warm wet tongue licked a stripe across your neck, tasting you and relishing in the saltiness of your skin. 

“ Mate. ” Jason grumbled the single syllable and moved through the safe house swiftly. 

The couch was destroyed. He didn’t want to take a chance and ruin the bed. It would be too hard to replace it given how difficult the world had become. 

“Uhh- Jay?” You looked at him, he was holding you up and looking around for something. “Is everything fine?” You asked gently.

Jason nodded one and set you down on your feet, padding around the place. Using most of the destroyed parts of the couch and the cushions, he created a small den. When he was satisfied with the comfort of the surface, he came back to you, nudging at the small of your back, begging you to lay down for him. 

“Okay, okay-” You laugh a little, “No pushing… yet .” You smiled at him, pulling off your clothes and moving to get comfortable on the pile of pillows, cushions and blankets. 

Watching you, his tail was swishing so quickly from side to side in excitement. His was chest heaving with heavy breaths as his keen eyes followed every move you made. 

Kneeling in the middle of it, you patted infront of you. Jason followed down immediately. His ears twitched with anticipation. His snout pressed at your knees and he inhaled deeply. Fuck- Your smell made his spine shiver and his chest puff up. 

His tongue lapped at your knees, up your thighs, begging for you to open your legs for him. You bit your lip and leaned back onto your hands, your legs opening a little more for him. He growled softly, your scent getting stronger by the second for him. His snout pushed further up, his large body hunching over you until you laid under him. Submitting to the beast. 

“ Mate .” He purred again, his paws wrapping around your waist and pulling you up at an angle that made you gasp. 

Your back was in the air and as soon as his tongue dragged across your pussy, his blood ran hot with liquid fire. 

His jaw closed around your pelvis and his tongue delved deep into your needy cunt. The sudden intrusion made your eyes roll back. You whimpered his name, your hands fisting at his fur, pulling and whining shamelessly.

Every pur, every growl he made, shivered up your spine and made you moan louder. And it only egged him on further. He was careful to not bite down too hard but the pretty noises you were making- they were making it very hard to keep it under control. He wanted so desperately to swallow you whole. 

His tongue circled at your clit and just as you’d buck against his mouth, he’d move it down and move it fuck you in the most torturously slow pace. His thick warmth was delving deep into you and you were so close to becoming a babbling mess. And you hadn’t even been knotted yet. 

You could feel his drool and your pussy juices dripping down your ass and up your back due to the angle he was holding you up at. You whined and moaned, but he wouldn’t let you cum. 

This was definitely payback for keeping the muzzle on him all day. 

Jason felt himself grow and harden as he devoured you, rutting against the floor to ease his ache. 

You held his fur by the fistfuls, arching, trying to move , to grind, to cum but he wouldn’t let up. His warm thick tongue pistoned in and out of your pussy at a relentless pace. And every time he’d feel your body almost reaching to the tip, he’d slow down again. You hurled curses at him, pulling his fur almost painfully but he didn’t care. 

You were finally under him and he was going to make you work for it. 

“Please-” You begged shamelessly, “I can’t take it anymore-” You were able to grab at an ear and pull harshly. 

Jason whined and pulled back, your body falling against the pillows with a soft plop . Your chest heaved as you caught your breath but he looked downright feral and annoyed at being made to pull off. He wiped his mouth, grinning and exposing his sharp teeth that had left dents into your skin. 

Looming over you, hunching and covering your entire frame, your eyes darted down to his cock. It was unsheathed and looked far redder than usual. One paw held you down by your hips, licking you so completely that you felt drenched . He purred at the taste of you and your body erupted in goosebumps when the air touched the wet skin. His tongue swirled at your nipples, nipping and sucking them so fully that his entire jaw was open against your chest. 

He pulled back just enough to admire your glistening skin. You smelled like him now. That’s exactly how he wanted you to be all the time . Wet, out of breath and his . 

Jason hummed in satisfaction and then his mouth descended onto yours. 

His tongue pushed into your mouth aggressively and his cock rubbed at your dripping cunt. He swallowed every needy sound you made and it only spurred him on more. With a sudden motion, he flipped you over and raised your hips into the air. You were putty in his hands and your desperate noises were a testament to that. 

Your pussy clenched at nothing, desperate for anything at all. His eyes zeroed in on it and growled with satisfaction. The vibrations of which rumbled through his chest and across your back. You arched more, pushing back, needing something- anything at all. 

The tapered tip of his cock pushed slightly into you, making you moan. 

No matter how many times you’d had him, every time, it felt new and different. The tip alone was so exciting. The tip being pointed and slowly easing into you, then the thickness increasing as he’d keep pushing. 

Jason was by no means small as a human- But as a beast? This felt so deep into you that you always felt the taste of his cum in the back of your throat. 

One arm was curled around your waist to keep you up against him as he bottomed out into you and the other, the claws were clenched tightly into the pillows and cushions under you as he tried his best to not push too quickly and too hard. 

He knew he could fuck you dumb one you were opened up enough for him but right now he had to be careful. He couldn’t break you. Not yet , at least. 

His chest rumbled again, the vibrations shivering through your spine as he buried himself to the hilt in you. He waited, letting you adjust, lapping at your neck and back in broad strokes. You gasped for air, your insides fluttering around his throbbing length. 

“ Please -” You whimpered, craving more- needing him to move. 

Jason slowly pulled out and just as the tapered tip was only in your pussy, he slammed back in. His balls slapping harshly against your clit. You cried out loudly, pain and pleasure swirling together so deliciously. It felt like he was splitting you into two but gods above , it felt heavenly to feel this much all at once.

The sounds that were escaping his mouth were becoming more and more animalistic by the second as he rutted into you mercilessly. You were a fleshlight at this point for him because if he hadn’t been holding you up, you would’ve been a mess on the floor already. 

With each thrust, he hit your cervix but it only sent a shivering sensation up your spine because the tip was soft and pointed. You moaned like a bitch in heat, matching his bestial pace. He leaned over, licking at your neck, craning your face back and lapping up the drool that was dripping from your mouth as you gasped every time he pistoned into you. 

You creamed his unsheathed red cock so perfectly- The smell of which was intoxicating to Jason. He grunted as he felt the base of his dick swell. 

You were so fucked dumb at this point, you weren’t even sure if you’d cum or not- or if you were simply so extremely overstimulated that every time he moved, your back arched and you mewled as if you were just as animal as him. 

Jason purred the same choppy word in growls again and again. Mate. Mate. Mate . 

His cock throbbed painfully as he continued his brutal assault into your cunt, your breath getting knocked out with every thrust. You gasped for air, your eyes rolling back, you weren’t sure if you were cumming or if you were about to pass out from absolute bliss. 

“ Mine- ” He growled against your ear and his spark teeth closed around your shoulder. 

You cried out at the harsh pain- His teeth didn’t break skin but it was still enough to make you dizzy. You felt yourself get stretched more again at his knot started to form.

Jason sat back on his hind legs and twisted you around to face him. You were a ragdoll in his hands as he held your smaller body in his massive paws and fucked you onto his cock like no tomorrow. 

His bright green eyes were locked onto yours. He couldn’t knot you unless you agreed. He held himself back- trying his best to not let go if you weren’t all here with him. You gave the tiniest of nods possible and that was all he needed. 

His tongue invaded your mouth, shoving deep into your throat as he moved your sloppy cunt up and down his red cock. With a final pull, he settled you down onto his knot and came. 

You felt like your insides were melting as he shot hot ropes of cum deep into you. Your head falling back and you crying out in painful pleasure. The stretch and the warmth mixing together so filthily. You could feel him dripping down your thighs but you were locked on and there was no going anywhere. 

Gently, Jason licked at your skin, nudging your face with his snout, making sure you were alright. You gave a barely audible hum and he relaxed slightly. He moved backwards and laid back into the den he’d made for you, letting you lay on top of him as his knot slowly subsided. 

He knew he’d help clean you up and help you sleep against his warm fur. But that was for later. 

For now, this was all he needed. You on top, locked onto him. 

. . . Fic Master List.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Kiss me stupid, silly

Request made by @beautifullyalone23 : pleaseeeeee. Not sure how requests work but, what about a slow burn with Noah? Mutual friends, she's a bad ass with a heart of gold? Lots of sass ect. Idk im rambling. Anyways thank you for the much needed escape. It's keeping me going 💚

a/n Was a pleasure writing it. Hope you will enjoy it.🤍

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If God was a woman it had to be you. Cheesy and so fucking stupid but Noah was sure of it. He felt like a schoolboy all over again once the slight crush had started. He was awkward and so fucking shy but you would just slowly blink at him. Like a cat. A slow, unwavering, kind look. Not a hint of teasing. Not a hint of judgment. Even when his lisp got the best of him since he was nervous as fuck. You would just nod along, not even once pointing it out.

“Can I ask you something?”, Noah breathed out as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Shoot, star boy”, you mused, leaning against his car as you looked over the seashore. Noah was on the break. Quite literally. In all ways imaginable. On a breaking point. On the break from the only thing that had him going. “Why…”, he frowned slightly as if assessing his next words.

“Remember we have a rule of no questions that start with why”, you pointed out, turning to him slightly. It was a silly rule, one that was made during one of many 2 am conversations. “You stayed”, Noah states making you shake your head slightly, “What do you mean?”. You never really understood why he was so surprised that you kept in touch with him. He was an awesome guy to be around, a rare gem and you had told him that but he had never truly believed you it seemed. “With me at the beginning”, he adds turning to you but his eyes fall onto the sea once more, “Don’t look at me like that”, he grunts.

“Like what?”, you shrug, tugging the selves of his hoodie down your palms. “Like you’re both pissed and feeling sorry for me”, Noah huffs, brushing his hand over his face. It always killed you how little he believed in himself at times. “Noah, I admire you and you know that”, you reasoned with a shake of your head.

“But…”, he starts only to be met with you turning away from him and rounding your way to the other side of his car. “What are you doing?”, a slight panic shoots through him at the thought of you finally being fed up with him. “Nope, not having this, come on”, you urge him, slipping into his car.

“What are you doing, Y/n”, he asks once more, wanting to hear you say it. “It’s freezing Noah, you will catch a cold, come sit in the car”, you point for him to do the same, needing shelter from a late night wind that had set in.

He sits there for a moment. The silence suddenly suffocates. He could never explain why he loved your company so much. Now he could but he was chicken shit as Nick had graciously called him. Too afraid to admit that he hadn’t escaped the inevitable. He had feelings for you. “How’s your new project?”, Noah asks, choosing to change the topic. You were a part-time model the shoot you had signed up for had blown the internet. Noah had bought the magazine. Two. One was still in the wrapper. Not to mention that you agreeing to be a part of their new album prom shoots had been the biggest highlight for him.

“Don’t care about it”, you shrugged, making Noah instantly turn to you, “Wait I thought it was your dream to land that”, he asked, surprise written all over his face. “Don’t care about it 'cause I'm here with you now”, you muttered, leaning your head on the side of the car seat.

Noah quickly mirrored your actions. Letting his eyes fall over you. Just watching you watch him for a moment. “Jolly said that you were sent by Lord almighty to me”, he sighed, fingers absentmindedly reaching for your hand. Something he had tried to stop. But given up after you haven’t pulled away. After you had only gone and intertwined your fingers with his instead. “Hmm..”, you hummed, “I always liked Jolly, he’s a good egg”. And he was. Both a good person and a big part of what you and Noah had going on. You weren’t sure if Jolly had said the same to Noah but he had found you in one of the house parties. Sat you down before handing you a drink and pretty straightforwardly pointing out that you had a crush on his friend and Noah had a crush on you. “It’s like leading two blind mice”, he grunted. The memory making you chuckle slightly.

“What?”, Noah asks intently, trying to scramble for every piece of your mind. “I had this…”, you shake your head, letting another laugh slip and past your lips, “I had this insane crush on you when we first met, and gods Jolly called me out bad”.

You watch all emotions possible swim all over Noah’s face. From shock. To clear denial. To joy. To confusion. “No you didn’t”, he shakes his head firmly. “Oh, I did, down bad, boy”, you nod instead. “You don’t go for guys like me though”, Noah frowns. “Who said that?”, you roll your eyes. “Well your ex…”, he starts only for you to hit his shoulder slightly, “Is ex for a reason”, you tap at your temple.

He watched you, as if calculating your words, “Wait…”, he tilts his head to the side, “Past tense though, had a crush”. You can’t help but smile slightly. Leave it to Noah to catch something like this and cling to it.

“Yeah…”, you nod, watching his face fall, “It grew into something deeper”, you add with a shrug. He blinks. Blinks again before taking a deep breath in. “Yn”, Noah shakes his head, “Are you taking a piss out of me or are you for real cause…”, but you don’t let him finish. Both hands reach out to take first fulls of his black Bad Omens hoodie as you pull him in. Crashing your lips onto his. His hand finds the back of your head immediately. As if he too had been waiting for this. As if he too had been anticipating it. It feels as if you see colors as his lips move against yours. All the emotions finally have an outlet.

“Oh fuck…”, he breathes out as you both pull apart. “Wow”, you add, feeling dazed as you watch him. “Yeah”, Noah chuckles, “wow indeed, come here”, he brushes his thumb over your lips before leaning back in to brush his lips over yours. If only you could kick your feet like a schoolgirl, you would. “All this time I wanted to kiss you”, he sighs, cupping your cheek. “Make room”, you grunt, moving to climb over to the driver’s seat. “What are you…”, Noah starts, his hands instantly move to your hips to steady you. “Don’t you want to make out in the car?”, you ask, halting, just in case you read the room wrong. “Do you want to? Cause I… there’s no rush”, he’s quick to reassure you, you shoot him a look before squeezing on top of him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Kiss me stupid, silly”, you mutter against his lips. “Your wish is my command”, he muses, his inked hand brushing over your neck before he grips your face ever so slightly, bringing you closer to him.

[theemporium]

hi, can I order a 22, smut-berry daiquiri with quinn hughes please?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

22. “If I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

.

“Stop it.” 

You bit back your smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Quinn’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, taking a deep breath as he felt your fingers tracing along his thigh. He cast a glance towards you, seeing your eyes focused on your phone screen as though you were totally unaware of his dwindling patience. 

You had been testing him all night. 

From the stunts you were pulling before the two of you even left the apartment, risking the two of you being late as you tried to straddle him on the couch with your dress hiking up your legs to the looks you kept giving him throughout the night, something sinful in your eyes as you’d watch him with your lips wrapped around the straw of your drink. 

He was angry because it was working. 

His cock had been half-hard in his dress pants since the drive over to the event, twitching and straining against the tight fabric at every one of your little tricks. He had spent most of the conversations zoning out, half the mind to drag you off to some supply closet and fuck you like you had been begging him to do all night. He had spent the rest of the night pinching himself, reminding himself to stay focused on the countless conversations with important people he barely remembered the name of. 

And now, on the drive home where he was clutching onto the last of his control with both hands, you had decided to push him over the edge a little more. 

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” he gritted out through clenched teeth as you palm cupped his bulge and squeezed softly. “Stop it or I swear to god—”

“You swear what?” You questioned in a sickly sweet voice. “Tell me exactly what you would do, Cap.”

Fuck.

“I’ll stop this car,” Quinn told you, his voice a little gruff as he spoke. “And I swear if I have to pull over, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

Your phone was long abandoned now, your elbows resting on the console as you leaned over until you were stroking him over the fabric of his pants with your lips by his ear. You were leaving soft kisses along his neck, listening to the way his breath hitched and his body relaxed as you nibbled on his ear. 

“Gonna punish me, Cap?” You mused, listening to the boy groan as you began to pull the zipper of his pants down. “Gonna teach me a lesson?” 

Quinn swore as he flicked the indicator, pulling into the side of the mostly abandoned road before shutting the car off and sinking his fingers into your hair to drag your lips against his. You moaned into the kiss, letting him devour you as you grew pliant under his touch. 

“I’m gonna gonna do exactly what I said I would and fuck you until you can’t even utter another snarky comment, baby,” he grumbled against your lips, his words making your legs clench together. “You wanna act like a slut, then I’ll fuck you like a needy slut.”

A quiet whimper left your lips. 

His smirk widened a little. “Gonna be good for your captain now, baby?”

.

[msschemmenti]

country living

request: there needs to be more love for jemily x reader tho!! so im thinking like jj taking her partners back to pennsylvania to show them what it’s all about

jemily x reader

summary: jj’s high school reunion is happening and she convinces both her girlfriends to come to her small rural town in pennsylvania.

a/n: hey hottie!! thanks for the request— country girls shake it for me jj edit stans rise!! idk how rural east allegheny is but im making it very small town rural 🤠 hope you enjoy <3 if anyone wants the actual reunion part of this just let me know 🫡

“good evening lovers!” y/n smiled over her shoulder at the sound of her front door opening.

“lovers? that’s new.” emily mumbled as she rounded the kitchen island to the younger woman.

“you got a problem being one of my lovers?” y/n asked teasingly as she turned the heat down on the stove.

“not at all, just curious.” emily replied holding her hands up in surrender before placing a kiss on y/n’s cheek.

“i kinda like it.” jj mused slipping out of her shoes.

“you like anything that alludes to bedroom activities.” y/n rolled her eyes at the blonde.

“guilty!” jj sing-songed, coming to pinch y/n’s side affectionately. the younger woman turned the stove off completely and turned to face her girlfriends.

“dinner will be done in a little bit if you want any. oh and before i forget, i picked up your mail, it’s in the mail holder in the entryway.”

“thanks baby.” jj smiled, stepping back in the entryway to retrieve their mail. she shuffled the envelopes, scanning the senders as she walked back into the kitchen. she plopped down on a stool and passed emily a few bills before pausing at an invitation addressed to her. she slid her finger through the sealed envelope and pulled the invite out curiously.

“god, has it really been 25 years since i graduated high school?” jj mumbled as she flipped the card over.

“25 years?” y/n echoed. “i’m not even going to say what i was going to say.”

“oh god, don’t do that thing you do when you say how old you were during that year. it always makes me feel old.” emily grumbled.

“hey! i stopped myself. i can’t help it, it’s the only way i can track time.” y/n whined as she started plating dinner. “anyways, is there a reunion or something?”

“yeah, it’s in pennsylvania next month.”

“oo, are you gonna go?”

“maybe. i haven’t been home in a pretty long time. i’m sure my mother would enjoy that.” jj mused.

“if we don’t have a case, i think you should go.” emily added.

“i second that. you gotta show everybody how hot you still are.” y/n nodded, as they all settled around her small dinner table.

“well if i go, you two have to go too. what better way to show everyone how hot i am, than to bring my super sexy lovers.” jj pointed with a cheeky wink.

“to pennsylvania?” emily grimaced.

“yes? don’t look so happy about it.” jj rolled her eyes.

“i don’t know, didn’t you grow up on a farm or something?” emily continued.

“not on the farm, near yes. you’re acting like im gonna make you milk a cow and churn your own butter.”

“didn’t reid say you were corn fed once? is that not what that means?” emily questioned.

“can i wear cowgirl boots? i don’t have any but i wanna buy some.” y/n asked turning to jj.

“obviously neither of you have ever been to pennsylvania.” jj shook her head.

“right, but cowgirl boots. yay or nay?”

“i vote yes. i think you’d look hot.” emily voted.

jj sighed with a smile and shook her head, “god, i hope we get to go to this reunion.”

-

luck was surprisingly on jj’s side and she and her girlfriends were pulling up to her childhood home in East Allegheny early thursday morning.

jj put the car in park and slid out first and sighed as she gazed over her childhood home. y/n hopped out of the backseat, feet covered by the red leather cowgirl boots she just bought. emily slid out last, sunglasses blocking the sun and a soft flush from the morning heat.

“welcome to east allegheny.” jj smiled turning to face both women.

“how exciting! pennsylvania.” emily teasingly cheered, causing jj to roll her eyes.

“it is giving corn fed.” y/n spoke quietly as emily leaned into her side.

“oh shut up! you two are the worst.” jj pouted.

“we’re kidding we’re kidding!” y/n protested moving to wrap her arms around jj’s neck and pull her close. “we’re so excited to learn more about country living babe.” y/n grinned before puckering her lips in a silent request.

“mmhmm, you’re definitely dressed for country living.” jj teased, meeting y/n’s lips sweetly.

“just be glad, em wouldn’t let me wear my hat. i think it looked adorable.”

“adorable yes. i agree. but i think it was a little too on the nose.maybe save that for texas or something.”

“hater.” y/n rolled her eyes before hissing as emily pinched her bum in retaliation.

“alright you two, behave. my mom’s waiting inside and i’ve got a whole day of east allegheny things i wanna show you.” jj scolded.

“yes ma’am.” emily and y/n said in unison with giggles on their tongue. emily grabbed their weekend bags and followed behind jj and y/n as they headed for the house. as soon as the first stair creaked— the door flew open and revealed sandy jareau.

“hey mom.” jj smiled softly at her mother through the screen door. their relationship had definitely been strained in the past but sandy seemed to finally be accepting her daughter for who she was and who she loved.

“morning jenny. come on in girls. i just finished breakfast.” sandy corralled leaning to kiss jj’s cheek as she pasted through the door. both y/n and emily followed suit and smiled politely at their host. jj leads the way through the hall of her childhood, breezing past the soccer pictures and family portraits on the wall. but unfortunately for her— her girlfriends were not breezing past anything.

“oh my god, is that jj?” y/n asked on an excited gasp. jj groaned and turned to see where the younger woman had stopped in the hall. she shook her head solemnly when she realized she had stopped at the top of the hallway.

“oh yeah, little jenny.” sandy smiled over the younger woman’s shoulder. “i’ve got the pictures situated chronologically as you go further up the hallway. she’d just lost her first tooth.”

“oh i just wanna pinch those cheeks!” y/n grinned pulling her phone out to snap a picture to keep.

“i’ll have to get the album out before y’all head back.” sandy smiled heading toward the kitchen.

“oh god, don’t enable her. there’s no telling what she’ll do with those pictures.” jj whined.

“no no, don’t listen to her. mrs. jareau, i need to see every baby picture of jj you have in this house.” y/n called as she stuck her tongue out at jj teasingly.

emily hid her laughter behind her hand and placed her hands on y/n’s waist to guide her toward the kitchen of the small home. jj followed behind rolling her eyes at the giddy look on all the women’s faces.

-

“are we taking the truck? please say we’re taking the truck.” y/n bounced at the bottom of the steps looking up at jj. they’d all cleaned their plates and thanked sandy and now jj had a day of ‘country living’ planned for her two girlfriends.

“i kinda wanna see you drive a truck as well. is there a hat you’ll wear as well?” emily joined y/n at the bottom of the stares.

“oh it’d be so hot.” y/n mused bringing her hands up to pull on jj’s arm impatiently.

jj’s eyes moved from emily’s teasing smirk and y/n’s pleading pout and couldn’t help but grin under their attention. allowing the younger woman to pull her into her side, she placed a chaste kiss on her pouting lips. “fine fine, we’ll take the truck. since it’s in such popular demand.”

y/n cheered happily and made a beeline for the old red truck parked under the tree leaving emily and jj to watch her go. emily slung her arm over jj’s shoulder with a laugh, “she’s loving this way more than i thought she would.”

“wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got a thing for cowgirls.” jj said bumping her hip against emily’s.

“oh for sure.” emily agreed with a laugh. they watched as y/n climbed into the bed of the truck and turned to face them.

“can i ride in the back? i wanna feel the country wind in my hair.”

“no.” both emily and jj vetoed in unison.

“aww you guys are no fun.” y/n pouted but knew they weren’t changing their minds.

-

“emily!” jj called with her hands held out in warning.

“what?!” emily paused in her step.

“your foot is hovering over a huge pile of shit. and i know how many you’re going to be if you step in that.” jj pointed.

“oh yeah that’d be so gross. we’d make you ride in the bed of the truck.” y/n nodded turning to look at the poop in question. “oh my god— what kinda animal did that?”

jj laughed with a shake of a head and turned y/n back toward the way they were walking. “the horses.”

“have i been that obvious about my cowgirl thing?” y/n asked eyeing both emily and jj.

“we assumed but the look in your eyes confirmed everything we were thinking.” emily shrugged with a knowing smirk.

y/n nodded in acceptance before turning to face jj, “in that case, i need to see you up on that steed, now.”

“i can’t believe you just said steed.” emily deadpanned.

-

after spending the day on her grandfathers farm, jj pulled the truck into the only small parking lot lit up. it was about 9pm and east allegheny had fully transitioned into night life mode. which in a small town means going to ‘the hidey hole’ for darts, beers, line dancing, and fried onion blossoms.

jj slid out of the truck first and emily followed from the passenger door. after refusing to let y/n ride in the bed of the truck, she insisted on being squished between them in the front. with both women out of the truck, she scooted her way to the edge of the driver’s side and hopped into jj’s waiting arms.

“i think we should get a truck.” she smiled dreamily as jj placed her on the ground.

“you’re only saying that because you’ve been wedged between us all day.” jj shook her head in amusement.

“well yes, but think of the easy access a truck allows.” y/n grinned mischievously.

emily blew a huff through her nose as she rounded the truck and stepped behind jj, caging the blonde between them. “now she makes a very good point. i think we should hear her out.”

jj’s cheeks reddened and her eyes rolled, “you two are trouble. i’m starting to regret bringing you both here.” y/n and emily laughed joyously before both kissing one of jj’s cheeks affectionately and releasing her.

they all filed into the bar and nabbed a tall table in the corner. with both y/n and emily seated, jj nodded her head toward the bar. “i’m gonna go get us some drinks and an onion blossom.”

“an onion what?” emily asked as jj walked away.

“i have no idea. i can’t lie though, i’m kinda excited.” y/n clapped happily. jj returned shortly with three beers wedged between her fingers and a plate of fried deliciousness.

“oh it’s definitely giving corn fed.” y/n grinned, pulling the onion blossom toward her side of the table eagerly.

-

“baby, why’s your face on the wall?” y/n asked as she and jj set up for a darts game.

“oh no reason—“ jj started to deflect but was quickly interrupted by a bumbling gruff guy leaning against the wall near them. “she’s the only person who’s ever gotten a single treble 20 in this town.”

y/n looked between the man and jj incredulously, “so you’re basically famous?”

jj shook her head with a smitten grin and the guy nodded his head in agreement. “she’s hidey hole royalty.”

“oh my god, em! jj’s royalty! come take my picture with her picture.” y/n called across the bar— much to jj’s dismay. she was positive those beers were finally hitting her girlfriend and she couldn’t help but to laugh as she watched her pose with the framed photo on the wall.

-

full of cheap beer and love, jj stopped the rusty truck in the backyard of her house. with the car in park she turned to her girlfriends with a smile. “wait here, i’ll be right back.” she darted up the back porch and quietly opened the screen door to enter. y/n and emily watched her go, but stayed put as they’d been told. when jj reemerged she was carrying piles of pillows and dragging blankets behind her. she threw them into the bed of the truck and pulled herself over the edge to situate everything comfortably. once the blankets were placed to her liking, she knocked on the back window and motioned for both women to join her.

“i can’t believe i ate something called an onion blossom.” emily groaned as she shuffled closer to y/n’s side.

“i can’t believe you wouldn’t line dance with us. that was a once in a lifetime experience.” y/n grumbled.

“you get so much more dramatic when you drink.” emily spoke into the younger woman’s hairline.

“you got a problem with that?” y/n asked feigning aggression.

“quiet you two, or i’ll ground you both.” jj reprimanded teasingly, eyes trained on the star filled sky. they all dissolved into giggles, feeling so light and so full of love that they couldn’t contain it. when they quieted down jj spoke softly. “when i was younger my grandfather would set up the truck like this for ros and i every weekend. it was my favorite part of the week.” y/n pulled jj closer as they quietly listened to her story. “it’s probably one of the things i miss the most about her. it was like our special time together. we didn’t argue, she wasn’t completely annoyed by my presence and it was our sister time.”

emily reached across y/n to twine her and jj’s fingers in support. “you know that reminds me of my summers in paris with my grandfather in his isolated cabin. we’d spend the day hiking and fishing. and end the night in a hammock identifying constellations.” emily recalled.

“i know you’ve both been together for so long, but i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of getting to know you both.” y/n smiled up at the stars squeezing both emily and jj affectionately. they hummed happily and enjoyed the clear night sky. a true perk of country living.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

“So what exactly is this…” The villain grabbed the hero’s wrist before they could touch the electronic gadget.

“If you want to, you can play with it outside. Not in here, please,” the villain said, their voice low, controlled. Their expression serious.

The hero rolled their eyes.

“Ugh, I’m not a dog that plays outside,” the hero hissed. They freed themselves from the villain’s grip rather harshly and stared at their nemesis who merely raised their brows.

“You’re not?”

“Ugh, you—”

“Then don’t touch my toys, love.”

“I should be confiscating your ‘toys.’ They’re a hazard for national security.”

“Are suspended heroes allowed to do that?” the villain mused. Their lazy smile spread all over their face and the hero clenched their jaw hard enough to make it hurt. Because, technically, the villain was right.

The hero had been suspended. For reckless behaviour. For now.

“Fuck off,” the hero whispered. They turned around to look at the other weapons and technical devices in the (what the villain called) weapon room. It was more the size of an entire apartment.

And quite impressive. They knew the villain was rich, but rich enough to possess technology not even the government knew of?

In their training, the hero had learnt quite a lot about weaponry, but this was beyond them. They barely recognised anything in here, let alone how to use this technology.

“Don’t you have like…a normal gun in here? Something I can actually use?” the hero asked. The villain took a small quadratic device from a table where hundreds of them were arranged properly.

“What makes you think I’d let you use any of this?”

“Ah, so you just want to show off.” The villain turned to look at the hero and merely shrugged.

“Perhaps.” The hero couldn’t even tell which was worse: being suspended or crawling to the villain, asking for help.

But the hero had no choice, this case was important and without the agency’s help, the villain was the only person they could turn to. So far, the villain played no part in this, so the hero could only hope they were interested in a neutral approach.

Together.

The hero’s jaw hurt.

“This is all we need for now,” the villain said. “It’s a tracking device. Location, voices, if it’s close enough to the person you’re trying to observe, it can even measure their heartbeat.”

They showed the hero the little device, not much bigger than a fingernail.

“Hm.” The hero scratched the back of their neck. The bugs from the agency were much bigger, much less capable. “And that’s gonna work?”

The villain simply laughed. “It’s adorable that you think it won’t.”

“I just…need this to work,” the hero said. The circumstances around this case were complicated, but the hero was willing to use every mean necessary to solve the murder of a colleague. It wasn’t easy, not even after an entire year.

Maybe that was the whole reason for why the agency had suspended them. Maybe they didn’t want them to work on the case at all.

“It will,” the villain said. “You don’t want to know how many times I slipped through your fingers thanks to one of these.”

“…delightful,” the hero said. They took a careful look at the villain. As always, dressed in fine clothes, as always serious, but still amused by pretty much anything. The hero always felt quite small next to them, even though they were sure they were older than them.

If the villain betrayed them, the hero was probably going to lose their shit.

They needed a Plan B, needed to be prepared for such an event.

“Don’t worry, love. This one is on me,” the villain said. They leaned over, their lips nearly touching the hero’s ear. “Unless you have a few million dollars on hand to pay for this.”

The hero blushed immediately and pushed the villain away.

“My god. You’re horrible.” They were regretting this already.

“Play nice. You know my kindness has its limits.”

Indeed. The villain wasn’t afraid of breaking the hero’s bones. Their forearm still hurt when they were lifting weights.

The hero sighed.

“You’re right.”

“Apologise then.”

“I’m sorry,” the hero said. Their ears were hot enough to hurt. They tried to look at everything except for the villain but that was nearly impossible. The villain’s pure presence demanded attention.

“No, properly. On your knees.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Quite serious, love,” the villain said. They smiled, more than a little amused. It wasn’t their soft smile and it wasn’t their evil smile either. They simply looked quite happy with themselves.

Despite their raging heart, the hero dropped to their knees. There was no negotiating with the villain. They knew that.

“Sorry.” Their voice was flat. Their face beet red. They bit the inside of their cheek. Thank god they were alone, they knew the villain liked to put on a show for an audience.

Which made this also quite intimate and embarrassed the hero even more.

They swallowed.

“Good enough for me. Get up.” The hero did so and once again, the villain leaned over, smiling. They put a hand on the hero’s shoulder and with the other, they gave them the little bug. “Not a dog, huh?”

[pamwritessometimes]

Tuesday’s Gone — Chapter 2

Russell Shaw x reader

Summary: When the police does little to no help to find your missing daughter, you are forced to contact Colter Shaw. What you don’t expect is how his investigation will reveal secrets about both your past and your daughter’s, in ways you never imagined.

Warnings: missing child trope, description of murder, very light smut.

Title’s based on Tuesday’s Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd.

Read Chapter 1 here

Tuesday’s Gone masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

The October wind chilled through Colter’s jacket as he made his way inside Mitchell’s. Meeting up in a diner–he certainly felt a sense of deja vu. Though, this time, they opted for one with roof. It was fall, for god’s sake.

Once he stepped inside, he scanned the area for the familiar chestnut-haired face he was looking for. It didnt take long to find it–in fact, it found him, waving at him with a nod. 

Russell looked pretty much the same as he last saw him a couple of months ago. Maybe his hair got slightly longer.

Colter approached the table and slid into the booth across from him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Didn’t leave me much of a choice” Russell chuckled as he munched on the burger in front of him. “You said it was important. What’s this about? Not that I’m complaining. Working together from time to time. Kind of like a family business” he mused.

Without addressing his last words, Colter reached into his jacket and pulled out a manila folder. He placed it on the table between them, pushing it toward Russell. “You need to see this.”

Russell eyed the file, a slight suspicion crossing his face as he put his burger down. He then flipped the folder open. As he started to skim through its contents, his brows furrowed. The file contained pictures, reports, details…everything about a missing girl.

“Who is she?”

“Her name’s Emma. She’s been missing since yesterday. Abducted from her house. No leads yet.” Colter said and then after a few moments of silence, he added. “I think the people responsible are connected to something you were involved in years ago.”

Russell froze mid-page turn. “What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t been involved in anything for a while. You know that.”

“I’m talking about The Horizon Group, Russell.”

At the mention of the name, Russell’s face hardened. “What does this have to do with them? I told you, I cut ties. I can’t give you intel or anything like that on them.”

“Look closer.” Colter said and nodded towards the file.

Russell frowned but flipped through the file again, but this time even more carefully. It was when he hit a particular page that he stopped cold. His eyes locked onto a name he hadn’t seen in years.

Y/N Y/L/N.

The file listed Emma’s mother as Y/N. Russell’s heartbeat quickened, his mind racing through memories that rushed back to him about the woman he’d left behind long ago. 

“What’s this about?” Russell asked, still trying to sound neutral. “Y/N. I, uh… Yeah, I knew her. A long time ago.” he admitted. “This— uh, this is her daughter?”

Colter nodded slowly, watching as the realization began to hit Russell. “Yeah. Emma’s her daughter.”

Russell’s hand shook slightly as he flipped through the file again, looking more closely at the girl’s picture this time. She was small. Had wide, innocent eyes and an undeniable resemblance to Y/N. Her eyes were shaped just like her mother’s, same with her lips… But her iris–pale green–and her nose… It wasn’t her. They seemed eerily familiar, though.

“She’s… four?” Russell asked, doing the math in his head, suspicion rising in his mind.

“Yeah” Colter confirmed. He could see the wheels turning in his brother’s head. 

Russell leaned back in his seat, his face paler than usual. “Colter, why the hell are you showing me this? Why does this have anything to do with me?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“Because I think you need to ask yourself if there’s a chance… that you’re Emma’s father.”

The words hit Russell like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling. His mind scrambled to piece together the timeline. 

The last time he’d seen Y/N. It wasn’t a peaceful break-up, not in the slightest.

“Are you saying—” Russell’s voice cracked, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Are you saying that I might be her father?”

“I don’t know” Colter said, but in fact, according to your own words, it was more than a possibility. “But the timing fits. And if you are, this isn’t just about a missing kid anymore, Russell. They didn’t just take any girl…they took your daughter.”

Russell stared at Colter, the weight of his heavy words sinking in. He had spent years running from his past, trying to bury it. But now, it was staring back at him right in the face in the form of a little girl he hadn’t even known existed.

His hands gripped the table, knuckles going white. “I… didn’t know” he said quietly. “I didn’t know she existed.”

“I believe you” Colter said. “But if Horizon took Emma, there’s a chance they’re using her to get to you.”

Russell’s heart almost skipped a beat. “They’re using her…because of me?”

Colter nodded. “It’s possible. It’s leverage. You were involved with them once, Russell. You know how they operate. They think they can use Emma to force your hand. And if they’ve gone this far….”

“...they’re not going to stop until they get what they want” Russell finished his sentence. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. It was too much, all at once. The realization that he had a daughter, that she had been taken because of his past…he had never felt so powerless. “I–I have a daughter” he whispered.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up again “I never wanted this” he added, his voice laced with emotion. “I left so Y/N could be safe.”

Colter reached across the table. “I know. But now we need to focus on finding Emma. This isn’t just about the past anymore. It’s about finding her.”

Russell lifted his head, his eyes as determined as ever. “What do I do?”

“We start by figuring out what Horizon wants” Colter said. “You need to think. Are there any old connections, anyone from that time who might have known you were still around? Anyone who could’ve tipped them off?”

Russell thought back, his mind racing through the faces and names of people he had cut ties with long ago. “I don’t know. I kept my distance. I thought I was careful.”

“Well, someone wasn’t” Colter said. “They found Y/N and Emma, and now they’re making their move. We need to be one step ahead of them.”

Russell nodded, the knot in his chest tightening. “We’ll find her. We have to.”

Colter stood, signaling to the waitress for the check. “We will. But it’s going to take everything we’ve got.”

As they left the diner together, Russell couldn’t shake the image of Emma’s face from his mind. He didn’t know her, didn’t even know if he had the right to call himself her father.

But one thing was clear: he was the reason she was in danger. 

And that meant he would do whatever it took to bring her home.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

“Fuck, Russ” you murmured against his shoulder while he relentlessly pounded into your deepest parts. His thick, veiny arms held you steady, his soft grunts and curses going from your ears straight to your core.

The bedroom was a mess, sheets tangled and clothes scattered around the floor. You were lost in the moment, completely. But then, the bliss was shattered.

A loud crash echoed through the house, making you both freeze. Your heart raced as the sound of shattering glass filled the air, and a surge of adrenaline shot through you.

“Russ!” you gasped almost in a whisper, pulling away to look at him. Panic flickered in his eyes, and in an instant, he was off the bed, putting on his pajamas in record time. You never saw him like this before, this…focused.

“Stay here” he commanded, his voice low and serious.Where did this tone come from? 

You nodded, but fear gripped you. You couldn’t just sit back and wait.

You slipped out of bed, instinctively grabbing one of his discarded shirts and pulling it on as quickly as your trembling hands allowed. You peered into the hallway, your heart pounding as you heard footsteps echoing through the house.

“Russ!” you called softly, straining to hear him over the rush of blood in your ears.

Then you heard it— a loud bang followed by a deafening silence. The next moment, you saw him move down the hallway, his expression set and focused, a stark contrast to the intimacy you’d just shared.

“Get back!” he shouted as he rushed toward the sound, and you felt a chill run over you. 

Something was terribly wrong.

You stepped into the hallway, heart racing as hell, when suddenly, you saw the flash of a figure moving quickly toward him. Instinct kicked in, and you were about to scream when Russell pivoted, drawing a weapon you never knew he had.

In a split second, he fired. The sound of the gunshot echoed like thunder in the small space, making you jump. 

The intruder stumbled, and then collapsed to the floor in a heap.

You stood frozen, eyes wide, as the realization of what just happened hit you. YOu just witnessed a murder. There’s a dead body. In your house. 

The body of the intruder lay motionless, and a knot of horror tightened in your stomach.

“Russ…” you breathed, struggling to process what you’d just witnessed. He turned to you, his face pale but his eyes dark, filled with an intensity that was absolutely foreign to you and terrifying.

“I’m sorry” he said, breathless. “I–” he stammered. “I didn’t want you to see that.”

“Who was he?” you asked, voice, hands, body, trembling. “W–Why did you shoot him? We could just... we should have just called the cops!”

Russell stepped toward you, his gun still in hand, his breath coming in quick bursts. He contemplated what to say. But the months of keeping you in the dark… it was enough. It was time to finally tell the truth. Even if it hurt like a son of a bitch.

“He… He was here to kill me. Kill us.”

Your heart sank, and the pieces began to fall into place. You had known Russell had a past, but this? You had never imagined he was mixed up in something this dangerous.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this. I wanted to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” you echoed. "From what?"

“From Horizon... From... all of this." he said motioned to the now blood-soaked carpet. "I didn’t choose this life” he sighed, frustration creeping into his voice. “I wanted to leave it behind. But they won’t let me. They never will.”

The gravity of the situation pressed down on you, and you felt your world tilt on its axis. You couldn’t comprehend the reality of what was unfolding before you.

The man you loved, the man who had shown you such tenderness, was also a part of something dark and deadly. The man you thought you knew— he killed a man. He shot a man right in front of your very eyes. And he did it precision. Without any hesitance. And it scared you. No, it terrified you.

And… what the hell was Horizon?

“We need to go” Russell said urgently, glancing at the still body on the floor. “They’ll come looking for him, and we can’t be here when they do.”

“What? Where?” you asked, feeling the panic rise in your chest.

“Anywhere but here” he said, taking your hand and leading you toward the back door. “Trust me, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe.”

“No” you said stopping in your tracks as you pulled your hand out of his hold. “Why would I trust you? I– I won't go anywhere with you.”

“What?” Russell stopped in his tracks to turn around and face you. “Y/N, we don’t have time to argue right now, I–”

“No, Russell. You fucking lied to me, kept secrets from me. I won’t go anywhere with you. I–” you trailed off. “Get the hell out of here.”

“Y/N”

“I said get the hell out of here!” you shouted.

“There’s a body in your house. I won't leave you here like this. At least– fuck, at least let me take care of it” he said frustratedly. Though her words stung, he knew he deserved it all. Still, he got her in this mess… the least he can do is to try to get her out of it. “Then… I’ll take you to your sister’s” he added reluctantly.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

You were in the middle of scrolling through social media on your couch. All of your friends, mutuals and family members had shared the news of Emma’s disappearance. It was desperate, you knew, but all means necessary to find your daughter. You were about to share the post in another Missing Persons Facebook group when the doorbell rang.

You opened the door, expecting only Colter standing there. But he wasn’t alone. It was the man behind him that made your heart skip a beat. 

Russell. 

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Next on Tuesday’s Gone (Sneak peek from Chapter 3):

“Why are you here?” You spat, your voice trembling with anger. “Are you actually worried about her… or are you just feeling guilty?”

“Because I didn’t know” Russell replied, his expression softening. “I didn’t know what I was missing until Colter called. He told me about Emma, about how scared you must be. And hell yes, I feel guilty. I— I wish I knew about her” he sighed. “Maybe I could have protected her from all of this.”

Just as you were about to answer him, to tell him another wave of fuck yous, Colter marched into the house. “I think you should see this.”

Both you and Russell turned to the younger Shaw, and you eyed him warily. “What?” you asked, still heated from the argument you and his brother had.

“There are new footprints on the front porch.” Colter said and motioned for you to follow him outside.

━━━━━━━━━━✦✧✦━━━━━━━━━━━

Aaand the plot thickens.

Thank you for reading Chapter 2 of Tuesday's Gone, I hope you liked it!

Read Chapter 3 here

Xx Pam

[vinylfoxbooks]

October 13 - Wave | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 963 Implied NSFW at the end

Regulus hates this. He hates the beach, Sirius knows that. And yet he still dragged his little brother along on his little vacation trip with his friends -- and it’s not like he had the courtesy to invite any of Regulus’ friends. 

The sun is too hot, there’s sand in places that Regulus would rather not talk about, the children that are everywhere are loud and running along the beach, and he’s so pale, that he has to hide in the shade otherwise he’ll end up cherry red and in pain -- Sirius doesn’t seem to care about it, despite being just as pale as his brother, though Remus is pushing to make sure Sirius walks out of this only slightly burnt. Regulus would like to read his book but all of the conditions are preventing him from doing just that. 

Specifically the one condition of James running around without a shirt on. 

Regulus is but a mere gay man, and James is built like a literal god. Who gave them the right to walk around without a shirt on when they’re built like that. All of their tattoos are on display -- mind you, Regulus didn’t previously know that James had any tattoos other than the ones visible on their arms -- and they’re laughing and messing around with Sirius in the water shoving each other into the waves, making their swim shorts stick to their thighs and water glisten on their skin. And, fuck, the reminder that they’re his when he sees the engagement ring sitting on his finger.

“You look like you might combust.” Remus muses from next to Regulus, bookmarking his own book, “Are you alright?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never been to the beach with James, have you?” Regulus shakes his head and the older laughs, “You poor thing. Just don’t let the jealousy get to you.” “What do you mean?” 

Remus hums and gestures to the beach around him, “I mean, we’re in a place full of half-clothed people, many are probably single or teens that think they might have a chance with him and I mean… you can admit how your fiance looks.”

Regulus feels his face heating just a bit at the mention of his relationship with James, “If people start flirting with them, we’re never going to the beach again.”

The older barks out a laugh, “You and I both know that they’re too oblivious to realise that people are flirting with them.”

“That makes it worse.” Regulus pouts. Remus laughs and is going to say more, but Sirius comes up to them and starts dripping water onto his boyfriend, taking a second to shake out his hair like a dog and spraying water all over them, which gets him yelled at by both. 

Not long after that, James comes up to them and takes a towel to run it through their hair -- like a civilised human being, unlike his brother -- before moving to settle down on the large towel Regulus has sat on, “Hi baby. Enjoying the beach?”

“Not really.” Regulus hums, “But you seem to be having a good time.” 

James smiles but doesn’t otherwise respond, leaning down to pull him into a quick kiss, “You can always head back to the house, you don’t need to hang out here if you don’t want to be here.”

“You say that like Sirius won’t force me to stay here.”

James hums, “I can get him to let you go, you’ve spent two hours here, that should be enough for him. Could you grab me the fruit?” Regulus nods and fishes around in the mini cooler that they brought, pulling out the plastic container of fruit that he and James cut up earlier, handing it to his fiance. James thanks him quickly and starts eating, feeding a couple blueberries to Regulus when requested.

The rest of the day goes alright. Regulus stays at the beach to monitor the people that approach his partner, only to be shocked when a woman around his age walks up to him and starts flirting with him, which Remus snorts at. And while Regulus is fully aware of what is happening, he isn’t quite sure how to respond because of all the people at the beach right now, why would someone want to flirt with him? The antisocial, ‘sickly victorian boy’ in Sirius’ words, that has been huddled in the shade the entire time with as much skin covered as possible -- in the back of his mind, he can hear Remus remarking that some people are into his look while gesturing to James. 

Just as he’s figuring out how to tell the girl that he’s very not into women, James comes storming up to them. They smile softly at Regulus and sit down next to him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, “Hey baby, who’s this?” And Regulus gets the delight of watching as realisation dawns on the girl. She stammers out an excuse to leave and walks away to where her friends are sitting, watching them and giggling. 

“Were you jealous?” Regulus asks as soon as she’s out of earshot. 

James hums, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You just looked uncomfortable.”

“Mhm,” Remus nods, “And you don’t want to go back to the house right now?” And James’ face lights up at the suggestion and they nod frantically. Regulus laughs and leans up to kiss them before pulling them to a stand. James goes easily. They say their temporary goodbyes to Remus -- who laughs, probably knowing what is going on -- and waves to them, telling them that they’ll explain to Sirius. Then James is practically pulling Regulus to the vacation house that the group rented. 

Regulus thinks he’s starting to like the beach, so long as he’s the one being flirted with.

[atlabeth]

Girl for one get that glass of water! andddd this is a loose request but I LOVE knight Luke and we just gotta see them have that cinderella live action ball scene like romantic dancing maybe the secret garden as well but either way we gotta see these gals at a ball! Have a great day you're an amazing writer!

under the moonlight

fic about the ball

pairing: knight!luke castellan x princess!reader

a/n: thank you so much for this request it is so fucking cute lmao. i changed it a bit to make it work with my vision (bc they wouldn’t really be able to dance at a ball) but the core is that they're dancing together!!! and it is much more intimate and personal lol. here is the cinderella scene that the ask mentioned (and that i took inspo from because it's a beautiful scene lol)

wc: 2.5k

warning(s): basically all fluff

as usual, a mix of hcs and traditional fic!

ALRIGHT LAST TIME WE LEFT OFF princess was dancing with princes during the ball and luke was sulking at his first ever ball accompanying you as a knight 

and thankfully, that all goes okay. 

You don’t get murdered, Luke only goes slightly insane, and you don’t fall head over heels for any royals. 

All in all, a pretty alright night in retrospect. 

But post-ball is rough on both of you. 

You complain about how much your feet hurt from your heels and how uncomfortable your dress is and how your cheeks ache from smiling so much. 

To your surprise, as Luke follows you down the halls, he laughs. 

You stop in your tracks as you whirl around. “And what do you find so funny?”

“Nothing,” he says with a slight smile, almost private. “Just… good to be back with you, princess.”

A small smile of your own starts to creep on your lips. “It was only half the night, Luke.”

“And you have no idea how much I missed you,” he muses. 

You just shake your head and continue walking. “You’re funny.”

(he’s not joking. he’s just going through it now that he’s not training 24/7 and actually has time to feel emotions again) 

You finally get back to your room—thankfully, you got out of any post-ball events with any princes by citing exhaustion, and it’s very rude to demand more of an exhausted lady—and Luke shuts the door behind you as you sink into the edge of your bed. 

“God,” you groan as you immediately peel your heels off, letting out a sigh of relief. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those.”

“If it’s any help, you looked very regal out there,” Luke says.

“It is my duty,” you say as you smile inwardly. “You looked very knightly out there.”

“And that’s my duty,” he says in kind. He gets a chuckle out of you. 

You begin to take everything off—you undo your hair from whatever elaborate style it was in, you strip your wrists and fingers bare of bracelets, bangles, and rings (though you leave a certain necklace on), you undo parts of your dress. When you take your nightgown from your chest and go behind your folding screen, Luke clears his throat. 

“Princess,” Luke says, “do you want me to—?”

“You can stay,” you say. “I don’t mind.”

And Luke, idiot that he is, gets all in his head. 

(Does she not want me to leave because she doesn’t even see me as someone who could like her like that???) (We’ve been friends for so long, does she just see me as an older brother???) (Does this mean she trusts me or sees me as like. a painting on the wall.) (what the fuck) 

It’s not any of those, poor boy. it’s just that you feel more comfortable around him than anyone because you’ve been around each other for your entire life—he knows you better than anyone. What’s the harm in him being in the room when you’re separated by a folding screen anyway?

but Luke is dramatic and also so fucking insecure when it comes to your feelings for him lmao 

and he has a reason to be i guess?? because at this point while he knows that he has feelings for you (hasn’t fully realized he’s in love) you haven’t realized your own. you just think you have a lingering childhood crush on Luke and it’ll go away as you get older and start being courted 

(spoiler alert: it will not go away.) 

so he gets all weird and silent, giving one word responses as you talk with him, and when you come out in your nightgown you immediately stare him down. 

“Luke,” you said, “what’s wrong?” 

He blinked, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Nothing.” 

“Luke,” you repeated. “Come on.” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he repeated as well. 

You crossed your arms. “Don’t act like I don’t know every single thing about you.” 

“If you do, then you should know that nothing is wrong,” he countered. 

You stared at him for a moment more, then you held out your hand. “Dance with me, then.” 

That actually seemed to throw him off guard as he frowned. “What?” 

“Did you go deaf back there?” you joked. “I want you to dance with me.” 

He managed a smile, though it was slightly awkward. It only made your smile grow. “I don’t dance, princess.” 

“Which is why I’ll teach you,” you said with a nod. “I’ve had plenty of practice.” 

“And I have none.” Luke gestured at his armor. “I’m not exactly suited for it, either.” 

“You can take off your armor,” you said. “It’ll make it all much easier. And a lot quieter.” 

“My job is to protect you, princess.” Luke laid his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I can’t exactly defend you if all the armor’s gone.” 

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. He really did worry too much. “Nothing’s going to happen here, Luke—not now. I’ll even let you keep your sword with you if it matters that much.” 

He still didn’t seem sure. You inclined your head and took another step forward, still holding out your hand. 

“I’ll count you through it all,” you promised. “And if you like, I can hum one of those orchestra tunes they played earlier tonight. And I promise it’ll make you feel better.”

“...Fine,” Luke relented, and he started undoing his armor. “But you don’t tell anyone about this.” 

“Your secret is safe with me,” you remarked. 

It took a fair amount of time for Luke to get his armor off, but it took just as long for you to get every layer of your ball gown off earlier—and besides, you had endless patience reserved especially for him. The toned forearms revealed as he rolled his sleeves up certainly helped. 

“Are you ready?” you asked as you held out your hand again. 

Luke took it uncertainly. “I feel as if I’m the one meant to be asking you that.” 

“You can lead next time we train together,” you said with a smile. “For now, you’re in my domain.” 

You put Luke’s hand on your waist and reached for his other one, adjusting until it was right, then you looked up at him. “Does that feel alright?” 

His eyes were startlingly dark this close, surprisingly intense. He nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to teach you a few basic steps so you can get used to it.” 

Luke nodded again. You wondered why words seemed behind his grasp. 

yeah girlie I wonder why 

Luke is. not a great dancer 

You’re not surprised, and you don’t say a single word about it as you teach him the basics. he spent his childhood swinging a sword around, and you spent yours learning etiquette and ballroom dances lol 

He steps on your foot about ten times and apologizes like a freak every time, you just laugh and smile and tell him you’re fine. Sure, your slippers don’t provide much protection and Luke’s boots aren’t great against them but you honestly don’t even feel it. you’re too busy getting lost in his eyes lol 

And for someone who spent two years training like an insane person, he gets frustrated very easily when things don’t go his way. 

“How do you do this? It’s impossible.” 

“I learned this dance when I was twelve, Luke.” 

as much as you jest while you’re teaching him the basics you’re encouraging him the entire time because he’s your best friend above all else!!! and you honestly believe he can do anything lmao 

And he’s a quick learner! He didn’t become the youngest kingsguard in history by learning slowly. So soon enough, you’re actually dancing together. 

Luke’s hand on your back feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you can tell he’s actually starting to get a little into it. 

You didn’t have to count your steps off anymore, so you’d switched to humming one of your favorite symphonies from the musicians back in Aurelda. 

Luke is still focused on landing every move, but your lead and the music gives him confidence in this that he didn’t really know he had. He spins you, and you get an idea as you twirl your way to the balcony door. You open it and look back at him. 

“Princess—” Luke starts as he takes a few steps towards you, but you just shake your head with a grin and hold out your hand. 

“Trust me.” 

And he does, somehow. 

You didn’t know what part of himself Luke had to get to in order to actually go along with this, but he allowed you to fully take the lead. His eyes never left yours as you guided him through one of your favorite dances—sometimes you called out whatever move that was coming next, and he would do it perfectly. His instincts and reaction time, sharply honed by his training, actually came in handy. 

“And lift!” 

Luke braced his hands on your waist as he raised you into the air without missing a beat, and you found yourself actually laughing with pure glee as you landed. You grinned at Luke who had a smile smaller than yours, but that you knew meant the same. He glowed with exertion and the light of the full moon shone down on him. 

Angelic was the only word you could think of to describe him. 

“Princess,” he said, bringing you back to the real world, “are we done?” 

“I see no reason not to end while we’re ahead,” you said, slightly out of breath from his lift. “You’re a natural. Are you sure you’re not a prince?” 

Luke’s smile didn’t fully reach his eyes for the slightest moment—he covered it up before you could fully analyze it. “Thankfully, I’m not. Otherwise I would have had to do that all my life like you.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” you said offhandedly. “Especially when you’ve got such a great partner.” 

Luke suddenly lowered himself into a bow, his arm held in front of his chest as he bent over. You couldn’t stifle your laugh in time, but he was smiling when he rose. 

“The only proper way to truly end a dance, so I’ve seen,” he said. “I wouldn’t be such a great partner if I forgot that.” 

You grinned as you took the skirt of your nightgown in your hands and bobbed into a curtsy. “Thank you for the reminder, my lord.” 

A shiver ran through you and Luke’s eyebrows creased. “You should get back inside. You’re not dressed at all for this weather.” 

“It’s simply a night chill,” you said, and you walked over to the railing and rested your forearms on it. “And it’s too beautiful a night to ignore.” 

“It truly is.” 

You heard Luke walk up next to you, so you glanced over. His gaze was only set on you. 

You felt your cheeks flush and you bit back your smile as you stared back up at the stars. For a moment, you stood together in comfortable silence. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you finally said. 

You could hear his frown in his words. “What do you mean?” 

“Exactly what I said.” You leaned a bit closer to the railing, shifting your balance. “Your presence always… calms me. And I was a bit nervous for tonight.” 

When Luke finally responded, it was more restrained than usual. “Why?” 

“Well, I was nervous tonight because you put the idea in my head that I was going to get murdered,” you said wryly. “And your presence calms me because it always has.” 

“So… I made you nervous and calmed you down for what I made you nervous about?” Luke shook his head. “I’m sorry, princess.” 

“Why are you apologizing?” You finally turned to look at him, the smallest smile on your lips. “Anytime I got overwhelmed on the floor, or felt as if I was going to keel over from boredom, I just searched around until I found you.” You shrugged. “The sight of you alone was enough to get me through the rest of it.” 

“And of course,” you tipped a shoulder as your gaze drifted back to the stars, “you danced with me for no reason. That gives you all the good will you need from me.” 

“It wasn’t for no reason,” he said. “It made you happy. That’s reason enough for me.” 

The chill in the air was a blessing as you felt heat rise in your cheeks, and your smile grew just so. 

“Besides.” You could feel his eyes on you as he continued. “This was my first ball. Anytime I got overwhelmed, I would find you in the crowd, and your confidence got me through it.” 

You chuckled as your gaze fell to the marble railing. You didn’t know if you’ve ever felt less confident at a ball—but knowing that Luke was looking for you the same way you did him made butterflies arise in your stomach. 

Warmth spurned all through you, and the fingers on your forearms felt bumps rise on your skin. You didn’t exactly know what possessed you as you cleared your throat and started back towards your room. 

“It’s late,” you said, perhaps a bit too hasty. “We— we should turn in. It’s going to be a long ride back to Aurelda.” 

You paused at the door, waiting to hear Luke’s footsteps or his voice, and it took a few seconds for him to do anything. 

“...Yes,” he eventually said. “I apologize for keeping you so long.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself as you opened the door and walked back in. Always so noble—it was no question he had knight’s blood in his veins. 

“It’s not your fault, Luke,” you said. “You were just meant to drop me off—I got you to stay.” 

You sat on the side of your bed as Luke put his armor back on. There was no point in it, but he refused to let the implications of him leaving your room at this hour in his underclothes fester. 

“I chose to stay,” he said. “I know better.” 

“You can give it a rest for a night, Luke,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m your princess, aren’t I?” 

“Certainly.” 

“And you are my knight.” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I don’t see how anyone could have a problem with my knight spending time with me.” You smiled as you leaned forward, meeting his eyes. A smile twitched on his lips for just a moment before he continued to get dressed. 

Soon enough, he was ready to go. Luke paused at the door, fingers on the handle, and met your eyes. 

“Thank you again for tonight, princess,” he said. “I…” 

His breath caught for a moment. His eyes flickered down to your neck. A millisecond later, they were back at eye level, and you allowed a knowing smile. 

“I enjoyed it,” he murmured. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight, Luke,” you said softly. 

And you got one more smile out of him before he closed the door behind him. 

[poeticallyspiteful]

hiii! could you please write a regulus black x potter! reader? maybe something like reg and reader secretly going out and getting discovered by James?

thank you!! have an amazing day 💗💗

his muse (pt. one)

regulus black x reader

fluff / angst

cw: unedited as always 😌, a sex joke but it’s a titanic reference lol, marauders being overprotective, kissing, cuddling, someone may threaten to pull out someone’s teeth and put them on a necklace (it seemed like a very regulus threat), artist!regulus because 🥰

summary: you’re the honorary little sister of the infamous marauders; what happens when they catch you with a certain someone?

notes: hey love, thank you so much for the request!! just so you know, i don’t like to write readers to be related to another character, because i want my readers be able to relate to the ‘reader character’ without altering their preferred fancast for another one based on things like race or ethnicity. that is totally on me for not putting that in my request post and i will do that asap, but i hope you enjoy this anyway <33

more notes: i did get just a tad bit carried away and decided to divide this request into two parts, just to make it less overwhelming for me and y’all as well. anyways, enjoy <333

“oh reggie, paint me like one of your french girls,” you giggled, draping yourself dramatically across regulus’ pristine sheets.

he looked up from his sketchbook, brow furrowed in a way that made you want to kiss him until you both passed out from lack of oxygen.

god, you loved him.

“what?” he asked.

“nothing.”

evan and barty had both left the slytherin dorms, off to some place or another, giving you the perfect opportunity for some alone time with your lovely boyfriend. you’ve made sure to do this at least once a week since you started dating in your fourth year. now that you’ve reached sixth year, the tradition had only grown more cherished; precious were the moments spent with someone you’d been otherwise forbidden to see.

“he’s dangerous, (y/n),” sirius insisted, only just finished with his dramatic act of fake vomiting. you had made the grave mistake of assuming your friend would have a normal reaction upon hearing who had asked you to the yule ball.

“a slytherin, (y/n), how could you?” james moaned, collapsing onto the auto-man like he was faint in the heart. “you have been my little sister all my life—”

“you met me when you were twelve and we are not related,” you corrected.

james feigned offense. “how dare you question our bond? blood does not matter! we are family and that is that, young lady.”

“leave her alone, the both of you,” remus laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you to his chest. “our little girl had to grow up someday.”

sirius looked appalled. “not with my bastard, slimy, death eater of a brother—”

“he’s not a death eater, we’re fourteen!” you exclaimed, pouting dramatically at the older boy. “just one dance, i promise padfoot, if it’s that weird to you, i’ll never see him again.”

you lied.

sunlight peaked in through the curtains, the golden rays hitting regulus in such a way that made him look angelic. so focused on his sketchbook, glancing up every few moments to gaze at you like you were something to be revered.

you sat up in his bed, fiddling with the hem of his sweater that lay around your mid thighs; though you loved to, you rarely got the opportunity to wear reggie’s clothes, given sirius would recognize them in an instant. so, you took advantage of these moments whenever they came your way.

you loved wrapping yourself in the soft, strong, warm smell of him: minty cologne, sea salt, and pine trees. the scent was practically woven in the fabric, making everything feel so much softer, so much more him.

you did have a couple shirts and sweaters you’d stolen over the years, but they remained in your dorm at all times.

well, mostly.

it was a moment of stupidity. a dreary saturday morning, a hogsmeade trip, and you had slept in. naturally, you had to rush out of your dorm to get to breakfast in time; but, you didn’t need to change, did you?

why not wear the sweater you had slept in and save yourself a little time?

so, after changing into more appropriate pants, you made your way down the breakfast and sat in your regular spot; in between remus and james, and smack dab across from sirius.

he noticed his brothers favorite sweater the second you sat down.

“what’s that?”

you’d barely sat down by the time sirius spoke and continued making your morning coffee as the group grew silent around you. finally looking up, you glanced between your friends in confusion.

“what’s what?”

you lifted your sleeve to rub your nose, breathing in quickly through your stuffed up sinuses; stupid fall allergies.

you froze as the familiar sent cooled your insides, eyes darting over to the slytherin table across the great hall.

oh.

that’s ‘what’s what’.

“who’s jumper is that, (y/n)?” james asked, arm draping over your shoulders to tug the sleeve on the other side. “doesn’t look like one of mine—”

“or mine,” sirius chimed.

“or mine,” peter chirped, though you hardly stole borrowed his sweaters anyways (too scratchy).

“it’s mine!”

you were surprised to hear remus’ leap to your defense, as you knew damn well the sweater wrapped around you wasn’t his— still, you weren’t about to question it.

“mhm,” you hummed, taking a sip of your coffee, hoping the boys didn’t notice your shaking hands. “i don’t know what that third degree was about, but i stole this from moony a month ago.”

“what’re you thinking about, lovely?”

regulus was suddenly just inches away from you, sketchbook tossed to the side, instead opting to look at his muse more close up.

“nothing,” you mumbled, smiling as he dipped down to kiss your collarbone, working his way up to your lips with featherlight kisses that made you wish you could stay with him forever.

though at this point, everything he did made you wish you could stay with him forever.

“you’re beautiful,” he whispered, eyes scanning every curve and point of your face like a work of art; his work of art, his muse.

he’ll never get tired of that word.

you breathed in deeply, the smell of him practically making you glow like some sort of protection charm; you’d never felt safer than you did with regulus near. you felt untouchable with him, like nothing could ever hurt you.

“what are you doing here?”

lovely.

a grating voice to disrupt your terrible day.

“hey,” severus called. “i’m talking to you.”

you spun around, glaring at the greasy haired boy across from you with as much contempt at you could muster. “piss off, severus!” you shouted; you’d never bit back like this before, but the shocked look on his face was worth it. “really, cornering a younger student in an empty hallway? pretty cowardly, don’t you think?”

before you could debate the consequences of your actions, severus’ hand was gripping your cloaks and you were shoved up against the wall.

“you filthy little—”

just as quick as snapes hands were on you, they’d been torn off, and you scrunched to the ground. regulus shoved him up to the wall opposite you.

“defending your little mudblood, huh?”

“shut your filthy mouth about her or i swear on merlins grave, i will rip every single one of your teeth out and put them on a necklace like a string of fucking pearls,” regulus bit, baring his teeth, an emphasis to the threat. “you got that?”

that night, you ended up in a very similar position to where you were in now; wrapped up in your lovely boyfriends sweater, curled in his arms, and having sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

“y’know, i mean it when i say you are beautiful,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple as he spoke, breath fanning over your face. it tickled, but you didn’t care; you just wanted to hear his voice. “breathtakingly gorgeous, inside and out.”

“really?” you teased, nuzzling your nose further into his chest, arms wrapped around his torso.

“really,” he laughed. “i could stay like this forever.”

you pouted, pulling yourself half on top of him. “but my daft friends just have to get in the way, don’t they?”

you hear a gasp from the doorway.

“did you just call us daft?”