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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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F1 GRID | the daughter of a rival team principal

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : the daughter of a team prinicipal finds love in another team ୨ৎ : requested : yes

୨ৎ : genre : romance ୨ৎ : tws : father-daughter arguing ୨ৎ : word count : 4799 (~685 words each)

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was so fun to write i love it (charles was a personal favorite >.<)

ʚ・max verstappen

you’ve always known what was expected of you. as the daughter of mercedes f1’s team principal, your life has been one of luxury, pressure, and constant public scrutiny. your father’s legacy has always loomed large over you, and you’ve been trained your whole life to uphold it. but tonight, at a charity event during the off-season, something shifts.

you never expected to meet him. max verstappen—red bull’s star driver, known for his dry humor and sharp wit—has always been in the rival camp. you’ve heard about him, but when you finally talk to him, it’s different. his banter is sharp, but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your heart race. it’s not the usual flirtation you’ve experienced with other drivers; it’s deeper, more genuine.

a conversation turns into a quiet moment away from the crowd, and before you know it, you’re both caught in an unspoken connection. you try to convince yourself it’s just the heat of the moment, but the chemistry between you two is undeniable. as the night ends, the weight of your family’s rivalry presses on you. you can’t be with him. not him. not a red bull driver.

but the connection is too strong. as the weeks go by, you find yourself texting max in secret, sneaking around after races, and spending stolen hours together. you’re falling for him, and it terrifies you. you’re not just risking your own heart; you’re risking your family, your reputation, and the wrath of the media. but when max looks at you with those eyes—full of intensity and something more—you can’t stop yourself.

the pressure builds with every passing day. your family expects you to uphold mercedes’ honor, and you know your father would never approve. meanwhile, max—who’s used to constant scrutiny—becomes frustrated. he’s tired of hiding, tired of sneaking around, and you start to feel the weight of it all. the secrecy is suffocating, but you’re scared of what will happen if the world finds out.

then, during a crucial race weekend, everything explodes. mercedes and red bull are neck-and-neck, both fighting for the title. after the race, max wins, and mercedes is left picking up the pieces. that night, you and max decide it’s enough. you’re done hiding.

you sit across from your father and max’s team principal, the air thick with tension. your father’s face is a mixture of shock and fury as he demands to know why you would choose max. “he’s from red bull,” he says, as if that’s enough of a reason for you to walk away. max’s principal isn’t much better, questioning how this relationship could possibly work.

but max speaks up. “i’m not just a driver,” he says, his voice calm but unwavering. “i’m with her because i love her. i’m not hiding anymore.”

the room falls into a heavy silence. your father’s eyes narrow, a flicker of frustration crossing his features, but as he looks at you—really looks at you—he sees something he can’t ignore. the sincerity in your eyes, the depth of your feelings for max, is undeniable. this isn’t a passing phase or a rebellious act. it’s real.

“you really love my daughter?” your father’s voice is no longer harsh, but laced with something else—caution, perhaps even a hint of understanding.

max doesn’t hesitate. “i do. i love your daughter.”

your father exhales sharply, the weight of his words lingering in the air. “if you ever break her heart, i swear to god, i’ll make sure your engine never sees the finish line again.”

max, looking both relieved and earnest, nods. “i would never, sir. i’d never hurt her.”

over time, both families begin to soften. the media circus doesn’t go away, but the tension between your families does. slowly, the world starts to accept what you already knew: love doesn’t care about the rivalry between teams. it doesn’t care about the rules.

max wins another race. this time, you’re there, not hiding, not pretending. the cameras flash around you, and you stand by his side, proud. he looks at you with that same intensity, but now, it’s not a secret. your love is out in the open, stronger than ever.

and as you walk off the podium together, hand in hand, you realize that no matter what the future holds, you’ve already won. together.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

you’ve always been part of the f1 world, living in the shadow of your father, the red bull team principal. but one night, everything changes when you're forced to attend a press conference with him. you’re trying to stay out of the spotlight, your eyes gliding over the room, until they land on him: lewis hamilton. despite the rivalry between red bull and mercedes, something shifts when your gazes meet—an undeniable connection, one that neither of you can ignore.

after the press conference ends, lewis, ever the charmer, approaches you with that trademark grin. “so, you're the red bull princess, huh?” he says, his voice playful, though there's something deeper in his eyes. you nod, taken aback by the intensity of the moment.

"you don’t look like the type to be stuck behind a desk," he adds with a smirk, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.

you laugh, trying to hide how your heart skips a beat. "guess i’m not."

the next few weeks are a blur of stolen glances and quiet exchanges. with every conversation, every private moment, you both feel the connection deepening, though the tension between your families grows. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and the last thing you need is for the media to catch wind of anything. but as the whispers start, you can’t fight the pull between you and lewis any longer.

the secrecy wears on you both. the constant sneaking around, meeting in hidden corners, avoiding the constant press. it’s like living a double life, and eventually, it becomes too much. you feel suffocated by the pressure of hiding your love, and lewis, frustrated and restless, isn’t happy either.

then comes a pivotal race. both red bull and mercedes are facing setbacks, and the competition is fierce. the tension is at an all-time high. after the race, the world is still buzzing with the results, but you can't think about anything else. you need to see him.

as the race concludes, you rush through the paddock, your heart racing. cameras flash all around you, but you don’t care. you spot him—lewis, standing in the pit, grinning like he just won the world. without thinking, you run straight to him. the noise of the world fades as you leap into his arms, and he catches you effortlessly, spinning you around in a burst of joy. it’s a moment of pure freedom—a declaration that you’re done hiding.

the cameras capture everything: your arms around him, your laughter echoing through the chaos. the media goes wild. your father, watching the broadcast from his office, doesn’t know whether to laugh or shout. he stares at the screen, eyes widening in disbelief as you and lewis embrace on live tv.

"what the hell…?" he mutters under his breath. his fists clench, watching his daughter—his little girl—defy everything he’s worked for, the legacy of red bull and its rivalry with mercedes. for a moment, he’s stunned, unsure of what to think.

later, when you sit down with him, you brace for the confrontation. but instead of anger, he looks at you with a quiet understanding in his eyes. “you’re my little girl,” he starts, voice softer than you expect. “i’ve spent my life trying to protect you, to keep you away from this madness. but if this is who you love… then i’ll support you. even if it’s from a rival team.”

you feel the weight of his words settle in your chest. the rivalry still exists, but in that moment, you realize that family comes first. your father’s approval means more than anything, and his acceptance gives you the freedom to live your truth.

ʚ・george russell

it’s a late afternoon at the track, the sun casting long shadows over the paddock as the roar of engines fills the air. you’re standing near your father, the principal of red bull racing, watching the teams prepare for another race. it’s business as usual—except, today, something feels different.

as you glance around, your eyes land on him: george russell. mercedes’ promising young driver, always composed and focused. but today, it’s not the usual competitive edge you notice. instead, you spot a technical issue on his car, a minor glitch in the system that could cost him on track. without thinking, you stride forward, your pulse quickening with a mix of adrenaline and nerves.

“george,” you call, your voice cutting through the air.

he looks up, surprised to see you, but a flicker of recognition crosses his face. “y/n,” he says with a slight grin. “what’s going on?”

you point to his car. “there’s an issue with the engine cooling system. you need to recalibrate the sensors, or it’s going to overheat during the race.”

george raises an eyebrow. “and what would you know about that?”

you shrug, a playful smile on your lips. “i come with my dad to work almost everyday, i'd like to think i’ve picked up a few things.”

he laughs softly, shaking his head. “i guess i’ll trust you then. but i’m not sure if i should be worried about red bull’s tech advice.”

“don’t worry,” you reply, “i won’t sabotage you… too much.”

the banter flows easily between you, and there’s an undeniable chemistry that neither of you can ignore. but as you walk away, your mind starts to race. you’re intrigued by him—his dry wit, his easy smile—but you know better than to get too close. your father’s rivalry with mercedes runs deep, and you’ve been raised to see them as the enemy, not a potential partner.

over the next few weeks, you and george find yourselves crossing paths more often. each meeting is brief, a stolen moment outside the paddock or in the midst of chaos during a race weekend. you talk about cars, racing strategies, and even your shared interests beyond the track. there’s an easy connection, a bond that grows deeper with every conversation.

the secrecy of your meetings becomes a burden. you’re both constantly looking over your shoulders, afraid of getting caught. the fear of your families finding out and the potential consequences of your secret relationship weigh on you. yet, with every stolen kiss and quiet exchange, your feelings for george only grow stronger. the risk of it all feels worth it when he’s around.

however, the stress of hiding the relationship begins to strain you both. george’s success on the track only adds pressure. every victory for him is a reminder of the ever-present distance between you two. your father’s disapproval weighs heavily on your conscience, and it’s starting to affect your work.

during a pivotal race, both teams face challenges—red bull’s strategy falters, and mercedes struggles with tire issues. you and george exchange secret messages, working together to help each other’s teams without crossing the line.

as both teams fight to salvage their positions, your collaboration becomes more than technical support—it’s a defiant stand against the rivalry. the race ends with both teams barely staying afloat, but you and george share a quiet triumph, knowing you made a difference.

the media catches on, and the truth comes to light. both families are shocked, but as they see the depth of your love, your father’s anger softens. slowly, the walls between red bull and mercedes begin to crumble.

you and george publicly announce your relationship, standing together before the media, no longer hiding. the rivalry may still exist, but your love has bridged the gap, and together, you step into a new chapter where love, not competition, drives you forward.

later, your father calls you and george into his office, a wry smile on his face. after a moment of silence, he looks at you both, then shrugs. “i suppose if you’re really in love, i can’t stop you. just know… i can’t promise i won’t use my daughter to sabotage mercedes from time to time.”

you and george laugh, and your father chuckles, his eyes softening. "but seriously," he adds, "i trust you both. just don’t make me regret it."

with that, the tension breaks, and for the first time, the future of both families feels a little brighter.

ʚ・carlos sainz

the press room was buzzing with the usual chatter—drivers answering questions, team principals looking sharp, and the sound of cameras clicking at every moment. you were there as part of your father’s entourage, the daughter of mclaren’s team principal. you’d been to countless media events, but today, something felt different.

the crowd parted as a familiar face made his way through: carlos sainz, ferrari’s star driver. his warm smile met yours from across the room. you’d seen him race plenty of times, but there was something about his presence that stood out today—something that made your heart beat a little faster.

you’d heard stories of how intense the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari was. it was ingrained in you from a young age, something your father had hammered into your head. he was fierce about his loyalty to mclaren, and he expected nothing less from you. but despite that, the moment your eyes met carlos’s, you felt an undeniable pull.

he smiled at you, as if recognizing that spark too, and before long, the two of you found yourselves chatting during a brief lull in the press event. he was charming, his wit sharp, and his dry humor caught you off guard. you laughed more easily than you expected, feeling the weight of your father’s expectations and the animosity between your teams fade away in the warmth of his presence.

“you know,” carlos said with a grin, “i’ve always thought mclaren had some of the best engineers. too bad we’re always on opposite sides of the fight.”

you smirked. “guess it’s more fun that way, isn’t it? keeps things interesting.”

the chemistry between you was immediate, and in that brief conversation, you realized you wanted more. but you couldn’t—could you? your father would never approve. ferrari and mclaren had been bitter rivals for as long as anyone could remember. still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something real between you and carlos.

over the next few races, you both found ways to keep in touch, meeting up in secret whenever possible. the stolen moments became your escape, a brief reprieve from the weight of being the daughter of mclaren’s team principal and the strain of hiding your growing feelings for a ferrari driver. every touch, every glance was like a silent promise, and with each passing day, it became harder to keep things a secret.

but the pressure was mounting. the media was getting more curious about the subtle tension between you and carlos. you had to be careful. every word, every action had to be carefully measured.

then came the race that changed everything. the tension between mclaren and ferrari reached its peak. your team was struggling—strategy issues, tire troubles, nothing was going according to plan. and then there was carlos, pulling off a brilliant move and clinching the victory for ferrari. the crowd roared, but for you, the noise faded into the background. all you could focus on was the moment he crossed the finish line, knowing you couldn’t stay hidden anymore.

you rushed through the chaos, your heart pounding in your chest. the cameras were everywhere, but you didn’t care. you didn’t think. you just ran. when you reached him, you didn’t hesitate. you jumped into his arms, and in one swift motion, he spun you around, laughing in joy.

the world saw it all. it was a moment of defiance—no longer hiding your love for him, despite everything you’d been taught about team loyalty and rivalry. the media exploded, cameras flashing as they captured the intimate moment. the tension between mclaren and ferrari had never felt more real, and yet, in that moment, it didn’t matter. you were with carlos, and that was all that mattered.

back at the paddock, you could feel your father’s eyes on you from the distance. he hadn’t yet approached, but you knew the storm was coming. when he finally did, his expression was unreadable, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“what the hell is this?” he demanded, his voice low but sharp.

you took a deep breath, walking toward him. “dad, i… i’m in love with him.”

for a moment, the silence stretched between you. then, your father’s gaze softened, just a little. he let out a long sigh, glancing back at carlos, who was now waiting a few feet away, watching the exchange with uncertainty.

“you really love him?” your father asked, his voice unsteady for the first time.

you nodded, meeting his eyes. “i do. it’s not a fling, dad. i promise you.”

he stood there for a long moment, his gaze flicking back and forth between you and carlos. then, in a move that surprised you, he chuckled—a little bitterly, but still, a chuckle.

“well, if you’re serious about this, i guess i can’t stop you,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing. “but don’t expect me to go easy on ferrari next season.”

you laughed, relief flooding through you. “deal.”

and just like that, the walls that had once seemed insurmountable between your world and carlos’s began to crumble. the rivalry between mclaren and ferrari wouldn’t disappear overnight, but maybe—just maybe—the future of racing didn’t have to be defined by the battles between teams.

as you stood there, hand in hand with carlos, you realized that love had bridged the gap. you weren’t just the daughter of mclaren’s team principal anymore. you were someone who had found something real, despite all the odds. and that was enough.

the road ahead would be challenging, but with carlos by your side, you were ready to face it all—together.

ʚ・charles leclerc

you’d spent your entire life draped in mclaren orange, fiercely loyal to your father’s team. everyone at the paddock knew you—not as just the team principal’s kid but as a sharp-tongued, quick-witted presence who had zero tolerance for nonsense. so, when charles leclerc, ferrari’s golden boy, casually strolled over during a media event and commented on your bold mclaren jacket, you didn’t miss a beat.

“bold choice for you to critique fashion,” you said, raising a brow. “didn’t you wear that same ferrari polo yesterday? or is it just your uniform now?”

charles blinked before breaking into a grin. “it’s called consistency, chérie. something mclaren might want to try with their cars.”

your jaw dropped, but his cheeky smirk made it impossible to stay annoyed. instead, you laughed. “touché, leclerc. but let’s see how consistent you are on track this weekend.”

it started with playful banter, but the more you ran into charles during race weekends, the more intrigued you became. beneath his smooth charm and the ferrari-red facade was a kind, passionate guy with dreams that matched yours. the chemistry was undeniable, and soon, stolen moments between press conferences turned into late-night conversations over text, and quiet dinners away from the spotlight.

every meeting felt like rebellion—not just against your father’s expectations but against the entire cutthroat nature of the sport. you’d grown up in this world of rivalries, but with charles, you started to see it differently. the sport didn’t have to divide people; it could bring them together.

still, you knew what you were risking. your father had built his career on the rivalry with ferrari, and your mother… well, she’d always been the level-headed one in the family.

the turning point came after a thrilling race in monaco. charles took p1 in a breathtaking finish, and as he climbed out of his car, the crowd roared. you stood at the edge of the podium celebrations, your heart racing—not for mclaren, but for him.

as he spotted you in the crowd, you didn’t care who was watching. you pushed past the cameras and ran up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him in front of everyone. the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in that moment.

later, when the footage made its inevitable rounds, your father called you into his office. his expression was thunderous, but before he could launch into a tirade, your mother interjected.

“oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “love is love. let her live her life.”

your father looked between you and your mother, his frustration melting into reluctant acceptance. “fine,” he said, sighing heavily. “but if this boy breaks your heart, i’ll have him banned from every paddock on earth. do you hear me?”

“loud and clear,” you said, grinning.

charles became more than just a rival driver; he became your partner. the road wasn’t easy—balancing the pressures of your families, the media, and the sport itself was a challenge—but together, you proved that love could transcend the boundaries of loyalty and rivalry.

in time, even your father warmed up to charles, admitting that maybe ferrari wasn’t entirely the enemy. your relationship became a symbol of change, inspiring others to see beyond the rivalries and focus on what truly mattered.

and as you stood with charles at the end of yet another race, hand in hand, you knew you’d crossed the finish line—not just for love but for a new chapter in both your lives.

ʚ・lando norris

you weren’t supposed to be here—not in the simulator room of a mclaren facility. as the daughter of ferrari’s team principal, you had absolutely no business wandering into enemy territory. but your father had dragged you to yet another pre-season media day, and curiosity (plus boredom) got the better of you.

what you didn’t expect was to find lando norris, slouched in the simulator seat, muttering under his breath as he reset for yet another lap.

“maybe if this sim wasn’t ancient, i wouldn’t be two-tenths off,” he grumbled, smacking the steering wheel in frustration.

you couldn’t help yourself. “ever thought about turning left for a change?”

lando’s head snapped up, startled, before his lips curved into a grin. “great. ferrari’s princess is here to give me driving tips. what’s next? you gonna show me how to do a pit stop?”

“someone has to,” you shot back, stepping into the room. “clearly, mclaren hasn’t figured it out yet.”

his laugh was genuine, softening the edges of his earlier frustration. “careful, or people will think you’re defecting.”

“oh, please,” you said with a smirk. “if i wanted to sabotage ferrari’s reputation, i’d just let you borrow one of our cars.”

what started as playful banter quickly spiraled into something more.

the teasing didn’t stop after that. you’d bump into him at races or media events, and without fail, lando always had something to say.

“so, which ferrari secret are you leaking today?” he’d whisper as you passed him in the paddock.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” you’d reply, raising an eyebrow.

but beneath the sarcasm, there was something else—an undeniable connection that neither of you could ignore. it wasn’t long before stolen moments turned into late-night chats, and teasing jabs softened into something deeper.

you started meeting in secret, far from the prying eyes of the paddock. sometimes it was at quiet restaurants in cities where races were held, other times it was just sitting on the tailgate of his rental car, talking about everything but racing.

“do you ever get tired of all the rivalry crap?” you asked one night, staring at the stars.

“all the time,” he admitted. “but i’ve got to say, it’s a lot more fun with you around. even if you’re technically the enemy.”

you rolled your eyes. “please. if i were the enemy, you wouldn’t still be here.”

the turning point came after a pivotal race. ferrari had a disastrous weekend—your father’s strategy calls backfired, and both cars finished far outside the points. meanwhile, lando claimed p1, his first win of the season.

you should’ve stayed in the ferrari garage, consoling your team and putting on a brave face. instead, your feet carried you to parc fermé, straight into lando’s arms.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” he teased, grinning as he pulled you into a hug.

“yeah, well, someone has to congratulate you properly,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest.

the cameras were everywhere, catching the moment as lando lifted you off the ground and spun you around. by the time your feet touched the ground, you knew there was no hiding anymore.

when your father saw the footage, his face turned a shade of red you didn’t think was physically possible. “you hugged him. on camera. at parc fermé,” he fumed, pacing the ferrari motorhome.

“yeah, dad, i did,” you said, arms crossed. “and i’m not sorry about it.”

your mother, sitting calmly in the corner, rolled her eyes. “oh, please, let them be. even if it’s… inconvenient.”

your father stopped pacing, glaring at her before turning to you. “fine. but if he breaks your heart, i swear i’ll sabotage his car myself.”

when you relayed the conversation to lando later, he laughed, pulling you close. “your dad’s terrifying, you know.”

“yeah, but he loves me,” you said with a grin. “and he’ll come around. eventually.”

lando kissed your forehead, his voice soft. “good, because i’m not going anywhere.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

the first time you met oscar piastri, it wasn’t under the most glamorous circumstances. as ferrari’s golden child, your father had sent you to oversee a joint project with mclaren, which was code for "keep an eye on the competition."

you were mid-yawn at the coffee machine in mclaren's hospitality area, waiting for the machine to finally churn out your much-needed cappuccino, when a voice interrupted you.

“some of us actually have work to do, you know.”

you turned, glaring at the culprit—none other than oscar piastri, standing there with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.

“well, some of us need caffeine to tolerate said work,” you shot back, not budging.

he smirked. “right, because ferrari's success clearly hinges on how long you hog the coffee machine.”

“it’s only fair since mclaren’s been stealing all the glory lately,” you retorted, crossing your arms.

his laugh was low and unexpected, and it caught you off guard. “touché. but seriously, i need my coffee.”

you rolled your eyes but stepped aside, gesturing dramatically. “be my guest, glory-stealer.”

what started as sharp-witted banter evolved into something… else. the project forced you into countless meetings, strategy sessions, and shared moments of quiet in the paddock.

late nights at the track turned into debates about racing philosophies—he’d argue for precision, and you’d counter with passion. more than once, you’d find yourself splitting snacks when the paddock catering failed you both.

“you’re really committed to this whole ‘traitor’ thing, aren’t you?” he teased one evening, munching on a shared bag of chips.

“it’s called strategic sabotage,” you deadpanned, stealing another chip. “someone has to keep mclaren humble.”

he grinned, leaning a little closer. “you’re terrible at hiding your motives, you know.”

“and you’re terrible at hiding how much you love this,” you said, gesturing between the two of you.

he didn’t deny it.

after a grueling race weekend, where mclaren edged out ferrari in the standings, you found yourself in the paddock sulking with a bottle of water.

oscar appeared out of nowhere, slipping a folded piece of paper into your hand.

“don’t open it now,” he murmured before walking off, his usual nonchalant demeanor intact.

curious, you waited until you were alone to unfold it.

"we make a good team."

the words were simple, scribbled in his messy handwriting, but they hit you harder than you expected.

your flushed face must’ve been a dead giveaway because your father cornered you that evening.

“do you want to explain why you look like a lovesick teenager?” he asked, arms crossed.

you froze, trying to come up with a convincing lie, but he sighed before you could. “it’s piastri, isn’t it? of all the drivers—him?”

“it’s not—” you stopped yourself. lying wouldn’t work. “okay, yes, it’s him. and he makes me happy, dad.”

your father stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. finally, he muttered, “fine. but if he so much as breathes in the wrong direction, i'll send a hit out for him.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding you.

when you saw oscar later that night, you couldn’t resist telling him about your father’s “conditions.”

oscar grinned as he wrapped an arm around you. “i think i can live with that.”

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spideyjimin · 9 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: IV | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 10,073

— warnings: sexual tension, some nervousness, strong language, mention of sex, mention of breakup, mention of pain, crying, teasing, pain, screaming, some panicking, and nudity

— author’s note: this is for now my absolute favorite chapter of this series. so many things happen & it’s a very vulnerable one. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter 🤗 let me know what you think and thanks from the bottom of my heart for the love shown to this series ❤️

Chapter IV: standing next to you

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook is patiently waiting for you at the fertility clinic’s entrance.

Today is a special day.

It’s the first day you’ll meet your little baby. However, it’s also a bit of a terrifying day because there’s a possibility that there’s something wrong with the baby.

The werewolf king hasn’t slept at all, too worried about today. Yesterday, you told him about this appointment, and he asked if he could come. How could you say ‘no’ to him? He desires so much to be involved, you can see it in his eyes.

Now that you’re both on the same page about the baby, it feels like you’re on cloud nine. You’re both going to have a child, except it’s definitely not going to be as planned. You were both planning on being alone, but you have each other now.

Jungkook senses you arriving in your car, his eyes completely drawn to you. Feeling your presence from far away is something very new to him; he never experienced it with anybody else. Not even with Yuna. He keeps wondering if it’s because you’re carrying his child, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense.

His entire being is always captivated by you. Whenever you’re around, you’re the only thing that truly matters. There’s something so different about you that he can’t quite explain. Being with you makes him feel good.

As you step out of your car, his eyes lock onto you, completely captivated by your beauty. You’re dressed in sleek black trousers and a white shirt that hints at your cleavage, an effortless yet striking combination. His gaze follows your every move as you open the passenger door to retrieve your long black coat and purse.

The man swallows with difficulty. He finds you extremely beautiful, he’d even say that he has never laid his eyes on someone this pretty. Yuna can’t even compare next to you. And what makes you even prettier is the little life you’re carrying inside you. You’re the mother to his child which is quite a big deal though.

When you notice him, a bright smile appears on your face. His beauty is quite striking, and you wonder how you’ll be able to live a life with such a handsome man. You hope that the baby will take his good looks, because damn, Jungkook is alluring.

His outfit is a bit more casual than yesterday’s, but it’s still more formal than when meeting him at the town square. He’s dressed in blue skinny jeans, a white shirt, and a checked suit jacket. It’s simple, but definitely a great look.

Once you’ve reached him, you actually don’t really know what to do. Do you simply stay in front of him? Or do you kiss on the cheek? Or do you shake his hand?

“A simple kiss on the cheek is enough.”

Jungkook didn’t move his lips at all although you’ve heard him loud and clear in your head.

“Did you say something?” you furrow your eyebrows.

“No,” Jungkook shakes his head.

That’s weird.

However, you decide to follow the voice in you heard—that probably was a hallucination. You get closer to him before pressing a gentle kiss on his squishy cheek. Both of your hearts start beating at the same rapid rhythm. For a moment, Jungkook notices how in synch your hearts are beating, but he doesn’t really give too much credit to it.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you say after the kiss.

“Hi, yn,” he takes a step back to look at you. “Ready?” he asks.

“Yes,” the brightest smile appears on your face.

The two of you head inside the clinic while casually talking about how you’re feeling about this appointment. By the looks of it, Jungkook is more nervous than you. You’re actually not really worried as you constantly hear your child’s heartbeat that grows stronger every day. The only concern there might be is if the baby has any malformation, but even like that, you feel that deep down, you know the baby is just fine.

The doctor—who gave you the extremely bad news of the sample mix-up a month ago—makes her way inside the room after you both got inside. She clearly doesn’t know how to act in front of you, but you decide to smile to put her at ease. On the other side, Jungkook seems closed off, he almost looks pissed.

“Hi Miss y/l/n and Mister Jeon,” she offers you both a smile while she invites you to take a seat.

The two of you sit down before she does the same. Jungkook clearly doesn’t look happy; he seems to still resent her for the mistake made.

“How have you been feeling?” she asks with concern.

“I’m actually doing great,” you inform her.

You look at your right to Jungkook, trying to check his reaction. His dark and intense eyes are fixed on the doctor, leaving you wondering if he’s planning on answering or if he’ll just keep looking at her like he’s about to kill her. By the way his jaw clenches, you assume he’ll ignore her. But, to your surprise, he breaks the tension with a sharp answer.

“Could be better,” he coldly says.

The sharpness in his tone makes you blink. “You could be nicer to her,” those are the words you’d definitely like to say to him, but you resist the urge to call him out. Jungkook turns to you abruptly, his expression unreadable, as always.

“What?” Jungkook asks, his brows furrowing. Your eyes widen as you realize what just happened. He heard you.

“This woman gave me a hundred heart attacks,” he continues. “No way, I’ll be nice to her.”

You stare at each other in silence, your hearts beating rapidly. None of you has moved your lips, but you’ve been mentally talking. This is too wild for you. Jungkook doesn’t understand how on earth that is possible, and you believe that it’s one of those werewolf abilities you’re still discovering.

“Again, I’d like to apologize again for this mistake,” she clears her throat, pulling both of you back into the room. “The costs have been fully refunded to you this week. In principle, you should have already received the reimbursement by now.”

You nod as you remember seeing your bank account increase a lot after receiving the money. It’s honestly so weird to have so much right now, but you’ll transfer most of it to your investment and spare accounts. There’s no way you’ll leave your money to lose value.

While the refund doesn’t erase the mistake, it’s a reminder of how messy this whole situation has been.

“Before we proceed with the ultrasound,” the doctor continues. “I’d like to confirm with you if you’ve made a decision about the pregnancy,” she says.

Jungkook’s unreadable and mysterious face sends shivers down your spine. The energy he radiates is heavier and darker, and you feel the storm growing inside him. He seems to have become a totally different person since entering the room. You know he’s furious at the clinic for their huge mistake, and you understand why. But now, you’ve both decided to keep the baby so in the end, it’s all good.

But still, you need him here, not lost in his anger.

“Yes,” you gently say, offering a small smile before your gaze moves back to the man sitting next to you. “We’ve decided to proceed with the pregnancy.”

“Okay, perfect then!” she seems to relax now.

You can see that he’s holding back, you can sense his anger, but you don’t want to see him like this. You’re about to meet your baby. You place your hand on top of his to gently squeeze it, your thumb tracing soothing circles over his skin.

You instantly see his stiff shoulder relax slightly, and you can sense the heat of his anger vanishing, replaced by something softer, something more vulnerable. You hold onto his hand, willing him to stay calm. He remains quiet, though you can feel him shimmering under the surface. The doctor stands up and gestures toward the next room.

“We can go then do the ultrasound,” she stands up. “How would you like to proceed?”

You’re both confused about her question, not really understanding what she means.

“What do you mean?” you ask, glancing between her and Jungkook.

“This is a pelvic ultrasound,” she explains. “The baby is very small, so we can’t use the standard method.”

“Oh,” you both respond at the same time, the realization dawning on you.

“I’ll leave you then alone,” Jungkook instantly retorts while he shifts in his seat.

“No,” you grab his arm before he can move, your eyes meeting his with determination. “This is your child too. You should be here for the first ultrasound.”

“If you’d prefer,” the doctor starts suggesting. “Mister Jeon can wait outside while you get settled. I’ll ensure your privacy is protected and call him to be next to you once you’re ready.”

You consider her words, appreciating the balance of practicality and respect. This approach seems reasonable, and it might ease Jungkook’s discomfort. You glance at him, silently asking for his agreement. After a moment, he nods.

“Fine,” his voice softens.

The doctor leads you to the room, and Jungkook’s hand lingers on yours for a moment longer before letting you go. Even though he’s not right next to you, you feel his steady presence, grounding you as you prepare to see your baby for this very first time.

Once you’re in the other room, you remove your bottoms. The doctor gestures for you to lie down on the gynecological examination table and place your leg on the stirrups. This is such a vulnerable position, but you’ve been doing this a lot since you started this journey.

This is a room you’ve seen quite a lot, and it almost feels like a second house. The white sterile walls could make you feel uncomfortable, but the soft and calming lighting makes it feel like a warm room. It’s appeasing when you go through this entire process to procreate.

On your right, there is the ultrasound machine and a screen together with the material needed for the ultrasound like the gel. There is also the slim and long transvaginal ultrasound probe. It can look very scary, but it actually doesn’t hurt at all.

“Perfect,” the doctor says once you’re perfectly situated. “I’ll put a little blanket on top to cover you,” she indicates.

You nod with a bit of nervousness. Knowing that Jungkook will see you in this open posture makes you feel a bit anxious. You’ve never come to any gynecologist appointment with any men, not even your exes. It would have felt weird, especially since you were more of a fuck girl. It’s weird to admit it but you’ve always been more comfortable in having sex with somebody than committing to them.

Obviously, you engaged in certain relationships, but it was mostly to try to fill the deep void inside you. There was one man, Elliott with whom you stayed for three years. He’s been the only man who felt right to fall in love with. He treated you right, loved you right, and made you feel right. However, your fear of losing someone special got the best of your relationship.

This breakup knocked you down. You lost someone you deeply loved, just like you lost your parents. Since then, you haven’t engaged in anything with anybody. No dating and no sex. It’s been about focusing on yourself and understanding yourself better. And it’s been two years.

With this entire process of being a mother on your own, it didn’t feel like two years went by.

The doctor leaves for a couple of seconds before reappearing with Jungkook. When your eyes meet, you can tell that this is a first time for him. His facial expression almost indicates some shock to see you in this position. It’s not really glamorous, but for now, that’s how you get to meet your little baby.

Jungkook stands at your left, his eyes going between you and the gynecologist material. A smile grows on your face while you watch him; he looks adorable.

The doctor takes the probe, covers it with a kind of long condom, and puts the gel on it. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he sees it, causing your smile to grow bigger. “Is it going to hurt?” he communicates through his thoughts.

“No, don’t worry,” you answer back before grabbing his hand to squeeze it.

It leaves you wondering how things would have gone if he had done this through surrogacy. Would he be present for the first ultrasound? It would be logical if he was because it is his child, but it would feel weird though. Well, this is probably he will never know since it isn’t about surrogacy anymore.

“Can I?” the doctor asks with the long probe in her hands.

You simply nod, and she proceeds to insert it inside you.

“Just relax,” she tells you.

Jungkook avoids watching down by respect to you, but this is all surprising to him.

The coldness of the device catches you a bit off guard although you should have expected it to be this cool. By reflex, you squeeze Jungkook’s hand, and he obviously starts worrying. However, he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. Just like the doctor, he wants you to relax.

For a moment, you turn to glance at him. His soft expression calms you down, and right now, you wouldn’t want anyone else to be next to you. It’s weird to think that you like his presence around you when you embarked on this journey by yourself. He wasn’t supposed to be here with you. If the samples hadn’t been mixed up, you’d be here alone.

Suddenly, you can see the image on the monitor move. The doctor is looking for the tiny little piece of life inside you. Then, suddenly, a blurry figure appears, and the baby’s heartbeat breaks the silence of the room.

Even though you’ve been hearing their heartbeat since the first day, hearing it loud and clear makes it emotional. The baby is really alive. His tiny moving heart is clearly visible on the monitor. A little tear of joy streams down your face.

The second the heartbeat can be heard, Jungkook squeezes your hand. His baby—or should he say your baby—is thriving inside your belly. This makes it real; he’s about to become a father. A little Jeon is about to join the family, and that fills his heart with a pride he can’t explain.

The circumstances that created this tiny human—and wolf—aren’t the greatest. But this baby has been more than desired by his two parents. The two of you are exceptionally happy to finally see the baby.

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. It’s unique. It’s incredible. And it’s heartwarming.

The doctor is speaking in the background, but none of you seems to pay attention to her words. You’re solemnly focused on the tiny blurry figure on the screen. None of you speak; you simply embrace every emotion you feel, and your hands intertwined together. As you see the baby, you feel excited for the upcoming ultrasounds to see them slowly growing.

“All seems to be fine with the baby,” those words push you out of your reverie.

This is all that matters. If the baby is doing great, you don’t care about the rest. Life has been so chaotic lately, and this is the best news you ever got in the past few weeks.

“So, this was our last appointment together,” she explains while removing the probe. “From now on, you’ll have to be followed by your obstetrician. We will contact you throughout the pregnancy and after the birth to check up on you.”

Jungkook is relieved that he won’t have to come back to this place. His eyes look down at your fingers entwined; you’re still holding onto each other. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it out loud, since the first second he saw you, he knows what you truly represent to him.

Since he met you, he’s been experiencing things he never did with anyone else. He’s been having such a strong connection with you. And now, you can even communicate through thoughts. That is a unique bond. A bond you only create with one person only. Your soulmate.

But that’s something Jungkook doesn’t want to admit or believe right now. There has been so much going on right now, and for sure, when everything will slow down, it will probably hit him in the face.

The father of your child leaves the room so you can get dressed. Once ready, you join him in the doctor’s office. He’s patiently waiting for you, and it truly warms your heart to see him here. You take a seat next to him while the doctor proceeds to explain certain things about what’s next with the pregnancy. She gives a bunch of advice which honestly seems to be helpful.

After fifteen minutes, you leave her office with Jungkook. It’s a weird feeling to know you’re never coming back here again. For a couple of months, you’d come quite often, but your project is finally taking place. You’re about to become a mother. A werewolf mother.

The two of you walk in complete silence until your car. You’re both still processing what you just saw and experienced. When you reach your car, you finally look up at him. He’s biting his lower lip, clearly lost in his thoughts.

“You’re okay?” you ask.

His eyes finally meet yours. There’s something in his gaze you’ve never quite seen before. You’re seeing a storm of emotions in them.

You see worry, the weight of responsibility already pressing heavily on his shoulders. You see vulnerability, something he rarely shows, he’s always composed under any circumstances. But beyond all that, there is something else. There’s awe, as though the ultrasound was a moment that truly humbled him. It’s as if he’s beginning to grasp the enormity of what’s happening, of the life growing inside you, and of the connection forming between the three of you.

“Yeah,” he mumbles. “It’s just something special to see the little life forming inside you,” he admits.

“It is,” you offer him a little smile.

Jungkook looks so endearing right now, and you just want to hug him tight in your embrace.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon,” he then completely changes the conversation’s topic. “If you’re still okay with it, I’d like you to be at my place.”

This approaching full moon is making you nervous. It’s the first one you’ll experience as a pregnant lady, but it’s also probably going to be your first one where you’ll shift into a wolf shape. And that sounds pretty scary, especially since you’ve known about your werewolf heritage for like three days.

Jungkook takes a step closer, his hand delicately placing a strand of hair behind your ear. This simple gesture sends shivers down your spine, and your heart suddenly beats faster. Your eyes get lost in his, and the world seems to fade away around you as his thumb lightly brushes against your cheek.

Since he has appeared in your life, you’ve been going through lots of ups and downs. He has unveiled the werewolf world to you together with a part of yourself you never knew. It hasn’t been easy, but his presence feels grounding and reassuring. Deep down, you kind of feel that he’s never going to leave you. It’s an unspoken truth that you can’t explain, but somehow, you know.

His face moves dangerously closer to yours until you feel his hot breath on your skin. Your heart hammers faster and faster in your chest, and for a brief moment, nothing else matters. There is no doubt that he’s about to kiss you, and truthfully, there’s nothing else you want more. But a small voice in the back of your mind whispers caution.

Today, you’ve experienced a lot of emotion, especially since you got to see your baby for the first time. You don’t want this kiss to happen because of the intensity of the moment. You want this first kiss to happen because it’s right, because you both want it with absolute clarity, not as a reaction to the whirlwind of feelings you’re navigating.

His nose brushes against yours, his warmth pulling you in, and your lips are a breath away from meeting when you step back. Jungkook blinks, surprised. His eyes search yours, and you can see confusion and even a touch of disappointment in his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he’s definitely too surprised.

“I’ll be at your place tomorrow,” you say, your voice soft but steady. “Just send me the details.”

Before he can say anything, you jump in your car and slip away, your pulse still racing. As you’re driving, you try to steady your thoughts, pushing aside what almost happened. You’re not ready. Not just yet.

Following Jungkook’s address, your car slows down as you approach an imposing set of gates. Massive iron bars stand tall against the backdrop of the dense woods surrounding the estate, their presence as commanding as the man you’re here to meet.

You stop and glance around from your windshield before you leave the car. Beyond the gates, the large trees hide the driveway and the house. Your imagination starts to fill in the blanks. He’s the king, after all. His home must be grand, maybe even overwhelming.

On the wall beside the gate, a modern intercom system catches your eye. A silver button gleams in the sunlight, its simple design contrasting with the timeless feel of the gates. Your hand hovers near the button as you still look around you. You feel so small, standing here at the threshold of Jungkook’s world; one you’re not entirely sure to belong yet.

Taking a deep breath, you press the button. Barely seconds later, a voice is heard through the intercom.

“Hello,” you don’t recognize the voice. “How can I help you?”

Well, as the king, it wouldn’t surprise you that he has people working for him. He couldn’t possibly take care of his house by himself.

“Hello, I’m yn,” you say. “I was invited by Jung… Mister Jeon,” you answer.

“Hello, miss y/l/n, we were waiting for you,” the voice says. “Please follow the road to the mansion.”

The impressive gates move to let you enter Jungkook’s estate. You instantly jump back into your car before starting the engine. Very carefully and slowly, you drive through the road, your eyes wandering around you. This is definitely a very impressive state, and there’s absolutely no doubt that the father of your child is wealthy.

After a little while, a sprawling, stone-clad mansion with dark and earthy tones comes into view. The architecture is both ancient and timeless, with arches windows, and carved details that hint at its long history. You can’t believe this is where Jungkook lives, and it also leaves you wondering if this is where your child is going to grow up. Well, most probably yes.

An impressive courtyard suddenly appears, and it’s surrounded by well-manicured gardens that lead into the untamed wilderness of the forest. It’s simply incredible.

You don’t really know where to stop your car, but a man dressed in black clothing runs in your direction. In order to not make him run more, you halt and roll down the window. He’s out of breath when he reaches you.

“Miss y/l/n,” he manages to say, and you offer him a little smile. “Please follow me with your car to the parking spot.”

The man starts walking again, and this time you follow his direction. Everything about this seems unreal. A month ago, you totally ignored werewolves existed; you were planning everything to welcome a baby. And today, you’re here. You’re about to enter the mansion of the Werewolf King, and the father of your baby.

Seconds later, the man indicates where you can park. Once you stop the engine, the man opens the door for you. Wow, this is a first time, but you deeply appreciate it even though it wasn’t necessary.

“Thanks,” you say as you step out.

“You’re welcome,” he bows. “Would you have any luggage with you?” he asks.

For a moment, you take a look at the man. This is definitely a footman, Jungkook’s personal footman. Honestly, this feels like being in one of those Christmas movies where a random girl meets a prince or king and they fall in love. However, in this case, you don’t fall in love and you share a kid.

“Yes,” you answer. “But don’t worry, I’ll take it.”

The man shakes his head. “I got personal orders from Mister Jeon to take care of it,” he says. “And I would also never leave a pregnant woman carry her luggage.”

Seems like you don’t have much to say here. He’s following his boss’ orders, and based on what you see, Jungkook won’t allow any rule to be unfollowed. And you’ll also feel guilty if anything happens to this man because of you.

“Okay,” you admit in defeat. “Then, let me just open the trunk.”

The man follows you and instantly grabs your small luggage when the trunk is opened. It’s honestly super weird, and if everything will be like this tonight, you’re not sure you’ll get used to it. For sure, Jungkook undoubtedly grew up in the middle of all this, but this is new to you.

“Please follow me,” he repeats.

Now that you’re closer to the mansion, you get to see every detail. The front features a massive, double-door entrance made of dark and polished wood, with ornate iron handles. There are also some stone statues around the façade, giving an air of mystery and foreboding.

Jungkook is standing in front of the door, with a little smile on his face. Honestly, you weren’t expecting to see him right here. You thought that his footman would guide you to a living room, or a study where his boss would be sitting and waiting for you.

“Thanks, Jinwoo,” Jungkook says to his footman.

The man bows before entering the mansion with your luggage in your hand. As you stand before Jungkook, you realize now that he’s a king. It feels instinctual to bow. Kings are meant to be respected and acknowledged for their status. Your knees slightly bend, and your head dips forward, but before you fully bow, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“No need,” he murmurs in your mind. “You don’t have to do it with me.”

His voice holds a quiet authority, but there’s also something else. Something unspoken, almost tender. For a moment, you hesitate. Bowing feels like the respectful, appropriate thing to do, but his response leaves you questioning the boundaries of his role in your life.

“Are you sure?”

His piercing and dark eyes meet yours, unwavering and resolute. “I am,” he answers, his tone leaving no room for argument even if he’s speaking through your mind.

The intensity of his gaze makes your breath hitch as if he’s reaching past your thoughts and speaking directly to the very core of you. And then, something changes in the air between you. It’s not just his words that stop you. It’s the way he’s looking at you. His expression is almost wounded.

Now, you wonder if you offended him, and the guilt begins to creep in. You’ve never met someone who held so much power yet dismissed the formalities that come with it.

For Jungkook, the title of king isn’t just about wearing a crown. It’s a mantle he bears with pride and responsibility. But when it comes to you, it’s as if he wants to strip away the formalities, the hierarchies, the distance. He doesn’t want you to see him as a king. He wants you to see him for who he truly is.

With you, everything is simply different. When you met him, you totally ignored that he was a king. Every time you met, you would treat him as anybody else, and honestly, it felt great. He wasn’t a king. He simply was Jungkook.

“You’re different,” his voice softly brushes your mind again.

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and the tension in your body slowly fades away. You try to let go of the urge to bow even though it feels weird. His strong presence almost commands reverence, but he made it clear: he doesn’t want that from you.

Jungkook gets closer, his hand brushing against your cheek to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Briefly, you close your eyes to savor the sweet contact of his skin against yours. This brings you back to yesterday when you were about to kiss. You regret how you walk away, especially since you desperately wanted to kiss him, but it’s better like this.

“Thank you,” you say as you open your eyes.

This sense of equality he’s extending to you warms your heart. Jungkook nods, his eyes softening before he takes a step back. This man is such a mystery, but it’s evident that he’s carrying so much on his shoulder. So much history, duty, and perhaps even loneliness that he tries to hide.

“Hi, yn,” he then says out loud as if you’re speaking for the first time.

“Hello, Jungkook,” you reply with a little smile growing on your face.

“How was the road?” he gestures for you to come inside.

As the gentleman he has proven to be, he lets you walk inside his house first. You’re welcomed with a grand double staircase made of white marble, a marble that matches the floor beneath your feet. Along the walls of the stairs, there are hanging paintings of people. Probably Jungkook’s ancestors.

In the middle, a massive chandelier made of iron is hanging. The walls are impressively high, giving this space a grandiose aspect. This is for sure the kind of place you never thought of seeing in your life. Everything about this room screams ancient and power.

“The trip was fine,” you answer while your eyes get lost. “Although I thought at some point that I got lost,” you explain, your eyes now looking at the man behind you. “This is kind of in the middle of nowhere.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “As a werewolf king, it would be weird if I wasn’t surrounded by a forest.”

“It makes sense,” you admit. “But still, I was really about to call you with despair.”

Somehow, you can see in his eyes that he would have loved that. Saving the damsel in distress, but that’s not for you. There’s no need to save you, you can manage by yourself.

“You were about to call me?” he smirks with evident amusement in his voice. “I wouldn’t have minded. It’s not every day that I get to play the hero.”

You hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

“Don’t get used to the idea. I can handle myself just fine,” you answer while crossing your arms with a small smile appearing on your face.

Jungkook tilts his head slightly while his smirk deepens. “Oh, I know,” his voice is softer now and his eyes are shining with admiration. “That’s one of the things I like about you.”

At his words, you can feel the heat beneath your cheeks. You weren’t expecting him to compliment you while insinuating that he has a way too big estate, but you take the compliment.

Your child’s father proceeds then to make a little home tour. For sure, he doesn’t show you all the rooms as it is not needed. The first thing he shows you is the bedroom you’ll be staying in tonight. It’s located on the second floor, and the decoration is very simple. It’s a king-size bed with two nightstands and some furniture. Your luggage is already placed on a fancy bench.

A bit further on the second floor, there is the dining room. You’ll be eating here tonight before it gets dark. Apparently, it’s important to eat well and enough before taking a wolf shape. It helps to calm down the hunger, and it lowers the risk to kill someone or an animal.

On the third floor, there is his magnificent bedroom. It’s extremely big, you’d say your entire apartment fits in the room. It’s also very well decorated; there are many pictures and paintings, and the room breaths ‘Jungkook’. However, the most impressive part is the large walk-in wardrobe. He has a remarkable quantity of clothes.

Then, he guides you outside to an outbuilding. It’s a very rustic, ancient, and a big one, but it looks cute even though it’s a bit far from the main house. However, what stands out more is the strong smell. It’s not unpleasant, but it’s something that definitely draws you.

“So, this place was built for the full moons,” he begins to explain. “This is where we shift, and it avoids destroying the prestigious house my ancestors built. It’s also closer to the woods.”

As you get closer, the scent grows stronger.

“My ancestors also placed something in the walls to attract us. When we shift the scent is even stronger than now, and it was made in case we get out of control. That way, we won’t be going to the main house. It was made to protect the humans living in our house,” you nod at his explanation.

Jungkook opens the door, letting you in first. There’s absolutely nothing in this room, except for a fridge.

“I don’t really use this room anymore,” he explains.

“Do you completely control your transformation?” you ask.

“Yep, that’s the perk of being an Alpha and a King,” he explains. “I’m not influenced by the moon’s phases anymore, but I’ll be with you tonight.”

“And for normal werewolves, at what moment of the full moon do they start changing?” you ask with curiosity.

You need to mentally prepare yourself for what’s coming, there are so many unknowns. For sure, Jungkook will guide you every step of the way tonight, but you still want to know what is going to happen.

“As soon as the sun is down,” he says.

“Okay,” you reply.

For a moment, you just look at this empty room, your heart beating crazily in your chest. Seeing this makes you realize that maybe tonight, you’ll shift into a wolf. It’s a reminder of the heritage your parents hid from you all these years. Not only is this extremely scary, but it’s even more because you’ll have to do it without your parents; the people you loved the most.

“I’m scared, Jungkook,” you turn around to look at him. “So so scared,” you admit.

Jungkook comes closer, his right hand grabbing your left one. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you as much as possible.

“I understand,” his voice is soft. “This is all new to you, and you’re pushed right through the possibility of shifting into a wolf. I’m sorry this is all happening to you, and I wish things were different.”

He pauses for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours. “No matter what happens, I’ll be right here, standing next to you.”

You squeeze his hand while you whisper, “Thank you.” His support undeniably means a lot to you, you’re not sure you’d be able to go through this without him.

“If I could, I’d take your place in a heartbeat,” he continues. “I’d take all the pain and carry this burden if it meant you didn’t have to suffer. I wouldn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”

Without any hesitation, you throw yourself into his arms to hug him. Pressing a cheek against his chest, you close your eyes. His warmth seems to melt away all the tension in your body. Jungkook has been giving you the comfort of knowing that you don’t have to face everything alone. He’s taken a bit aback, but he wraps his strong arms around you, holding you tight against him.

His lips press a gentle kiss on your head while you remain in this position for a little while. His heartbeat appeases your soul, and it’s the only sound that you hear. In the midst of all this chaos, you’re grateful you found Jungkook.

After dinner, with Jungkook, you go to the outbuilding. But before doing so, he hands you a ‘special’ outfit. It looks like a sporty outfit; it’s made of a black top with black leggings. However, it’s made of a very stretchy fabric.

Jungkook explained that his family developed an outfit capable of resisting the transformation some years ago. Instead of getting ripped off, the fabric detaches when you shift. Once you get back to your human form, you can easily put it back. Apparently, there are magnets inside.

It’s honestly impressive, but, at the same time, not surprising. It’s the royal family that we’re talking about. They have the means to create something like that.

Jungkook’s a big fan of this fabric; all his clothes are made of it. Since he’s not influenced by the moon, he needs adaptive clothes for whenever he wants or needs to turn into a wolf. He also mentioned that it’s very comfortable, which definitely is the case.

“This is impressive,” you say as you’re walking.

The man walking next to you is wearing a long-sleeved white shirt with baggy grey pants. He looks incredibly fine, but you try to avoid looking at him. You don’t want to seem like you’re obsessed with him when you’ve known him for like a month.

“Yep, it is,” he smiles at you.

Jungkook is unable to look away, you look like a damn walking meal. He’s very much aware that he’s attracted to you, otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried to kiss you the other day. But the damn full moon always intensifies any physical attraction. His eyes even still glance at your fine ass. Thankfully, you don’t notice anything.

Once you reach the outbuilding, you put down all the things you brought with you. There are some snacks, two blankets, and extra clothing in case something happens. Jungkook doesn’t fully close the door behind you because if he does so, you’ll be stuck here and might destroy everything.

Since the sun hasn’t fully set yet, you sit down on the floor with Jungkook.

“How was your first transformation?” you ask with curiosity.

“It wasn’t great,” he admits. “It was the day after I turned ten, and I didn’t want to shift. And believe me, resisting it is painful as hell,” he confesses. “On top of that, I was really angry so when I became a wolf, I was out of control. My father didn’t manage to catch me up when I was out in the woods, but he found me when I turned back to human. I was crying like a baby, and I couldn’t remember a damn thing. My father later found out that I had attacked somebody, but thankfully, nothing too bad.”

This doesn’t really reassure you. If Jungkook didn’t have a great first experience, how would be yours? Will you kill someone? Will you also lose control? Also, you’re pregnant so it might be even worse.

“Being a wolf is something I didn’t embrace for a long time, especially since I knew I would eventually become a king,” he confesses. “So for a solid two years, every full moon was extremely painful. Once I accepted it, everything became easier, but I was very young.”

“So our child will also have their first transformation at ten?” you ask, and he nods.

By then, you might probably be able to help your child as you would have gone through ten years of full moons. But that doesn’t change the fact that, right now, it seems scary.

“With my blood, our child will live this wolf experience very differently than any other werewolf. They will be a king or queen so they must be stronger and better prepared than anybody else.”

This kid seems to have gotten the golden ticket to be ‘special’. Merely a month ago, you thought this child would be a totally normal kid, but then, Jungkook proved you wrong.

“The fact that I’m from a different pack won’t have any impact?” you ask.

“Nope,” he shakes his head. “The royal blood is stronger than any other.”

“So I’m basically just carrying your child,” you jokingly say. “It’s like I don’t contribute at all.”

He rolls his eyes, but he’s in the mood to tease you back.

“Carrying our child,” he corrects with a smirk, leaning in slightly. “And trust me, your contribution is very… memorable,” he whispers in your ear.

Shivers run down your spine, and the playful and cheerful mood has been replaced by something more heavy. By something hotter. And man, you crave so damn much to kiss this man. How will you survive this night with him by your side?

His face is way too close to yours, his eyes now locked on yours. His hot breath caresses your face, and his gaze is filled with lust. The two of you look at each other’s lips with so much desire. The attraction you feel towards him seems to grow bigger and bigger every day. You’re sure you’ll end up giving in, but you haven’t changed your mind. This kiss needs to happen because you’re both sure about it.

You clear your throat before straightening up. Jungkook instantly retreats, sitting the way he was before getting too close.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s okay,” you say.

In the blink of an eye, the sun goes down, and the moon lights up through the darkness of the night. At first, you don’t really feel anything, you’re even convinced you’ll easily navigate through this night. But very slowly, the pain intensifies as your bones and muscles realign into a form they never took before. Everything inside you is moving. Everything inside you is being torn apart. It feels like someone is pulling you in two different directions. You’ve never experienced this kind of pain.

“Jungkook,” you almost scream as the bones of your right arm move. “Help me.”

Tears run down your face, and Jungkook cups your face in his hands. His thumbs clean the tears on your cheeks. He’s on his knees just like you so he can be at your level. It’s impossible for you to be standing or sitting because of all the things changing in your body right now.

His eyes are full of fear and pain as he obviously can’t do anything but watch you go through this. Obviously, he can understand the intensity of the pain you feel, but he can’t take the pain away. He has healing powers, but they don’t work for this kind of scenario.

“I’m so scared.”

“I know,” he answers. “Don’t fight it, just embrace the pain. Scream at every moving bone. Scream when your muscles tear. But don’t hold anything back.”

You nod, your eyes don’t leave his as they seem to anchor you in some kind of way.

“You can do this,” he encourages you. “You’re so fucking strong.”

The next couple of minutes that feel like hours, you spend them screaming with pain. You understand now why the first full moon is painful. It’s the first time that your body adapts to your wolf shape. A wolf and a human are very much different.

“You’re doing so great, yn,” his thumbs caress your cheeks. “You’re doing so well,” he repeats.

Suddenly, Jungkook sees your eyes becoming blue, and he mimics you, his eyes now turning red. The man in front of you decides to turn at the same pace so you don’t feel alone in this. For sure, it’s not quite the same, but at least, by the time, you’re fully a wolf, he’ll be as well.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Then, out of the blue, you feel the baby moving, and your hand instantly goes to your stomach. Your ears try to find the sound of his heartbeat, but you don’t find it.

“Something’s wrong?” Jungkook is looking at you with worry.

“The baby,” you simply answer, and Jungkook frowns. “I don’t hear the heartbeat.”

“Don’t worry, yn,” he says. “I hear it.”

“But I don’t,” you start crying.

Jungkook begins imitating the baby’s heartbeat to help you find it. Following his voice, you try to find the heartbeat, but you can’t. You never stop trying because right now, that’s what you need. You need to ensure your baby’s safety. This is already very painful and if on top of that, you lose your baby, it’ll be the end of you.

Swiftly, the heartbeat echoes in your ears which appeases your soul instantly. Right there, you notice the claws appearing in your hands. It’s impressive to see it coming from your body. It feels unreal. Your body is changing, transforming into something you don’t know. At the same time, you can sense his hands changing against your cheeks. It doesn’t hurt, but his skin texture is different.

After that, your teeth and ears change as well. Jungkook’s hands leave your face to give you room while you go through this transformation. And for a while, you remain like that, stuck in between your human and wolf shapes. However, the pain doesn’t fade away. It’s still there, but nothing has changed. Jungkook starts to pick up the despair in your eyes. You’re panicking.

“Yn,” he lifts your chin to make you look at him.

His red wolfy eyes meet your blue ones.

“I’m a failure, Jungkook,” you whisper.

Your cheeks are ravaged by the tears that have been running down your face since the beginning. It’s such a heartbreaking vision.

“I can’t even fully turn into a wolf.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he halts you before you add anything else. “Don’t say that. You’re far from being a failure.”

His fingers brush your chin with tenderness which soothes you.

“You’re fucking brave, yn,” he continues. “You tragically lost your parents, you’ve recently found out about you and this heritage, and since you’re ten, you’ve been navigating life in the most heartbreaking way,” he reassures you. “You’re doing way better than a lot of us, and we had at least ten years to prepare.”

His red eyes don’t ever look away from you. Even though they have a wolf aspect, you can see how soft his expression is.

“It’s okay to be scared, but I’m here. You’re not alone in this.”

You nod with tears still running down your face.

“Just let this happen, don’t fight it,” his voice is calm. “Take a deep breath and don’t focus on the pain.”

You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and you try to focus on something other than the pain. Jungkook’s calm heartbeat invades your senses, and you decide to use it as an anchor. You decide to focus on it to forget about the pain.

Slowly, you feel your body complete the shift. Fur spreads over your skin, your hands become paws, and the clothes covering your body are now on the floor. The world around you now feels vivid and alive.

Your vision is totally different, and your senses are heightened. Everything seems to stimulate you, but somehow, you still manage to not react to everything.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook asks.

“The pain is completely gone,” you telepathically say.

Even if you deeply desire to speak, in this shape, you can’t say much except growl. However, you can still have a conversation with him through your thoughts. It’s honestly quite a useful.

“And everything feels different, but it’s fine so far,” you add.

He tilts his head, slightly confused.

“Okay, this is new,” he says. “Usually, people leave their human side when they turn,” he informs you. “But it’s good if you still have your human side while being a wolf.”

Jungkook shifts into his wolf form, and you’re blown away. A large wolf has now replaced the man standing in front of you. He’s even more impressive as a wolf than as a human. His stature is intimidating yet majestic, exuding both dominance and grace.

His fur is a blend of silvery grey and white, making his red eyes stand out a lot. His eye color adds an intense energy to his appearance, signifying his role as the king and the immense power he holds.

“Like what you see?” his voice echoes in your mind.

Even though you don’t have a human aspect anymore, you still feel your face get hot. You look away with shyness.

“You’re so majestic,” you admit.

“I’m supposed to be the king,” he answers while his muzzle appears in front of you. “I know I have a more imposing stature as a wolf.”

This is all so crazy. Never in a billion years would have you thought this was going to happen. You’ve turned into a wolf with a guy that is a werewolf king. On top of that, you’re calmly speaking with a wolf as if it’s the most normal thing.

“What color is my fur?” you ask with curiosity.

“It’s a deep dark brown,” he says while his eyes glance at you. “Very pretty color.”

Is this man going to make you blush all night long?

“Thanks,” your eyes don’t look away this time.

Jungkook now shows you how to walk, move, and adjust to your new body. Every step feels foreign, it feels like you’re learning how to walk again. As you’re walking towards the door, you have this feeling that you’re walking like an injured dog. But it’s your first time, you can’t be harsh with yourself.

The two of you head towards the door that opens to the woods. At first, you stumble slightly because your legs feel strange. But slowly, you realize that you’re walking. Really walking. The ground under your paws feels solid, reassuring. The more you move, the more natural it becomes.

As you walk towards the forest, you start to gain confidence, and it makes you feel powerful and free. It’s not easy to describe, a mix of awe and exhilaration that courses through your veins. Never in your life have you felt this way. It’s like this new form isn’t just a part of you—it’s always been waiting for you to claim it.

Your heart beats faster, not with fear, but with an exciting sense of possibility. You glance at Jungkook, whose red eyes shine under the moonlight. He senses your transformation is more than just physical. He gives you an encouraging look before he runs, his sleek sliver-and-white fur shining under the moon.

Jungkook keeps looking back at you to make sure you’re following him. However, you take your time because you want to adjust to this new reality. Slowly, you begin to move, your steps becoming steadier with each passing second.

As you enter the depths of the forest, you realize how deeper everything feels around you. It’s like you’re discovering for the first time what it feels like to be walking in the woods. The earthy scent of the moss and leaves fills your nostrils like never before. You feel every blade of grass under your paws, and the night wind brushes through your fur, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Over your head, the full moon glows in the dark, and its energy courses through you and heightens every sensation. It’s overwhelming but in the best possible way.

You push forward, your paws digging into the earth as you pick up speed. Jungkook slows down, waiting for you to catch up. His glowing red eyes are filled with pride and encouragement, and he swears he has never seen something as beautiful. Watching you discover everything he has taken for granted is heartwarming.

When you finally reach him, you stand next to him for a moment before you run past him. He’s definitely surprised, and soon, he’s running beside you. For the first time, you don’t struggle to keep up. You’re racing with him, your movements fluid and sure. The two of you snake through the trees, your bodies moving as though they’re part of the forest. You’ve never felt so alive, so connected to the world around you.

Jungkook keeps a steady pace beside you, and his presence grounds you in this surreal moment. You really can’t describe the feeling of having the wind rushing through your fur as you run. Eventually, you end up slowing to a stop in a clearing bathed in moonlight. Your breathing is heavy, but your heart has never felt this light before.

Jungkook steps closer, his voice echoing in your mind: “You did it.”

You look at the father of your child and realize this is so much more than just a transformation. It’s a bond, a shared experience you’ll for sure never forget. As overwhelming as it’s all been, you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You wouldn’t trade this moment for anything in the world.

This is your new reality, and it surprisingly feels like home.

“I did it,” you think to yourself, but Jungkook hears it.

The wolf next to you has never felt so much pride over someone turning into a wolf. He was present when his younger siblings made their first steps as wolves, and even though he was very proud of them, with you, it’s completely different. And he wonders if he will feel even more pride once your baby shifts for the first time.

For the rest of the night, you just walk through the woods, flirting with the city’s limits. Jungkook’s own forest seems to know no end, but it definitely gives you all the space you need to freely run. Surprisingly, you don’t meet any other wolf, but you don’t mind. You’re just too thrilled to discover this new body.

“It’s time to go back,” Jungkook informs you as he notices the darkness of the night leaving room for the sun’s light.

The father of your child guides you back to his outbuilding. Since you have no clue where you are, you simply follow him. Very quickly, you reach the large space. This time around, Jungkook closes the door once you’re both inside.

“So,” he stands in front of you. “To shift back to your human form is easier, but it’s more emotionally draining,” he explains. “It’s not painful, but it’ll take a lot of energy from you.”

You nod, it’s logical that it also contains its fair share of difficulty. Now, you just need to know how to go back to your human form.

“What do I need to do?” you ask.

“You need to set free the wolf inside you,” he tells you. “And visualize yourself as human.”

Well, seems easier said than done. How do you even set the wolf free? You’re definitely not very very sure how you should approach this, but you’ll try.

You close your eyes, but all you can think of is how you felt tonight. This has been by far one of the best experiences of your life. It was painful—you won’t hide it, but the aftermath made it worth it. You’d go through that pain again just to be able to walk so freely.

For a moment, it’s all you can think about, and it doesn’t help to shift you back into your ‘normal’ self. Then, you open your eyes and watch Jungkook.

“I don’t know how to do that,” you say.

The impressive wolf standing in front of you seems to think. He doesn’t really know what to tell you, he’s been able to shift so easily for over fifteen years. It’s easy to guide someone through the pain, but when there isn’t any, he simply doesn’t know what to say.

“Maybe try to think of someone you cherish, or a good memory, or at least, something that makes you happy.”

For the second time, you close your eyes. Your mind runs through all the positive events you lived, and one stands out from all of them. It’s a memory with your dad.

When you were little, you’d love to go to the shopping street downtown. There were always tons of people—something deeply annoying—, but you’d love to run through every store window to look inside. Your father would go to some of them to buy ‘grown-up’ things. You don’t remember what it was exactly because you didn’t really care back then. All you wanted was to see everything the store had.

At the end, there would be a pretty big café. If you’d behave well, you had the right to eat a pastry with orange juice. Obviously, you’d always make sure to wear your best behavior because the reward was worth it. For the pastry, you’d always go for a croissant with chocolate in it. Every time, you’d hope that the café would have this croissant. If not, you’d take whatever there was.

Your father would always take an espresso with a cheese toast. The smell of his coffee would always comfort you. Even right now, you can still smell it, and it has the same comforting effect. Those are the most precious souvenirs you have with your father.

After his passing, you never went back to that café. Felix tried to bring you there, but you’d refuse. You didn’t want to replace the souvenirs with your father. This café was your dad’s and yours, nobody else's. A little tear runs down your face as you remember that you’ll never be able to create new memories with him in that special place.

Without realizing it, you slowly shift back into your human form. When you realize it, you slowly open your eyes while standing up. Jungkook is still a wolf, but in a matter of seconds, he’s back to being a human.

Your eyes widen when you’re graced with a naked Jungkook, and you instinctively put your hands in front of your eyes. You weren’t really expecting this, and especially, to see this man naked any time soon. He chuckles, but then, it hits you— you’re naked as well.

“Shit,” you mumble.

Then, his warm hands wrap a blanket around you. You uncover your eyes to look back again at the werewolf king. He’s still very much bare, and you try to avoid staring below his chest. It feels totally inappropriate.

“Thanks,” you offer him a little smile.

To your surprise, his right arm is fully covered in tattoos. Honestly, you would have never imagined him with body art. He doesn’t give the type; perhaps it’s because he’s a king. Actually, you’ve never pictured any king adorned with such markings. And it truly makes him look a million times hotter.

Let’s not even talk about his toned figure…

Your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his body. His squared and broad shoulders look like they were carved from stone, and his muscular torso is just as well mesmerizing. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath is hypnotic, and for a moment, you can almost feel the raw power lying beneath his skin.

Your eyes linger longer than they should, and you suddenly find it hard to meet his eyes again. You can’t deny it—his presence is utterly magnetic, and it stirs something deep within you.

Suddenly, you’re violently hit by the fatigue. You didn’t see that coming, but after this amazing night, it’s normal.

Jungkook grabs the clothes on the floor, and you turn around so you don’t stare any longer at him—or should you say drool over him. He looks way too good for his own good. While looking at the wall facing you, you yawn and rub your eyes. You really need to sleep now.

“You’re tired?” Jungkook asks.

“Very,” you answer.

The man appears in front of you, fully dressed with a smile on his face. His cute face contrasts a lot with his very muscular body.

“Let me take you back home,” he says when he realizes just how tired you truly are. And before you even know it, you’re in his arms while he carries you to his mansion.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #bloodlines entwined: chapter 4 #spideyjimin

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yenqa · 11 months ago

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firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa.

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa.

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize.

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply.

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly.

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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bucks-babe · 10 months ago

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More to Love

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Bucky wants to take care of you in every sense of the term; so what if you gain a bit of extra fat because of it?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Slight angst, mentions of past relationships, kind of told in flashbacks, shitty ex boyfriend who forces reader to lose weight (not Bucky), Bucky is so in love it hurts, Bucky takes care of his woman, body insecurity, weight gain because of a healthy relationship, smut, CMNF (only for a little bit), looking in the mirror while on Bucky’s lap (yes, that needs a warning), crying during sex, daddy kink, soft!dom Bucky, so much fluff, no use of Y/N, Bucky calls reader love, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do that), implied creampie, Bucky loves his girl’s tummy, emotions.

A/N: This is NOT fetishizing weight gain, nor unhealthy habits. Bucky is not forcing the reader to gain weight to make her attractive to him; he loves his girl at any weight and just wants to take care of her. I made this fic because I want to feel like the parts of my body that I’m insecure about can still be desirable. Also this turned out way softer than the drabble, but there is still smut going on. Thank you to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however, any and all mistakes are my own.

Ever since you started dating Bucky, you have noticed how different he is compared to your previous partners. Not just because he is a 6 foot something brick house, but also in the way he treats you. You’ve never experienced such raw and untamed love directed solely at you, or the way his eyes seem to bore into your soul, memorizing every quirk and tick you possess. It’s almost overwhelming how much he loves you.

Never before have you felt so comfortable in a relationship. Previous boyfriends never really felt like boyfriends, rather personal trainers. Maybe you were bad at picking them out, but your last partner was a gym rat, constantly obsessing over what he was eating and how many hours he put into the gym that week. The obsession he had for the gym followed through into your relationship. If you wanted to spend time with him, it had to be at the gym.

He would construct fitness plans for you, saying that the softness of your stomach needed to go to make him happy, and you let him. You don’t know why you let him weasel his way into your head, but he did. Eventually, it went past the gym, and he would only allow you to go to a certain restaurant to eat because the others had way too many unhealthy options, side-eyeing you for ordering a side of fries instead of a salad. Cooking at home became a battle since you weren’t supposed to eat anything fatty or fried, nothing you did was ever good enough for him.

Over the course of that relationship you did end up losing the extra weight you had, but also weight that you didn’t need to lose, and soon you were “too skinny” and “didn’t have enough meat on your bones for him.” He left you soon after - over text. It was something along the lines of, “I wanted to see if I could make you attractive, but you don’t look good, fat or skinny.” It crushed you. The man that you thought you were in love with, and who loved you, broke your heart. You never gained the weight back, hoping against hope that he could come back and realize he was wrong about you. He never did.

It took you a long time to get over that piece of shit, but what he said about your body never left - you were still terrified to gain weight. But then you met Bucky, and for a while you forgot about that asshole. You had the sweetest, sexiest, kindest man that you were able to call yours, so why would you even think about your past? It started so slow you didn’t even notice until it was too late.

You groaned, stretching out in bed, arm reaching out for your boyfriend, only to find his side of the bed cold and empty. Squinting, you try to open your eyes, sunlight forcing them to close. After a few tries, you get them open and look at the time - 7:19. Bucky must be back from his morning run. Searching the floor for his henley, you walk into the kitchen to find Bucky cutting up your favorite fruit in a bowl, shirtless. The both of you know that he can hear you walk up to him, hell he probably heard you the moment you woke up, but he humors you when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his shoulder as he jumps in surprise.

“What’cha doing, honey,” you murmur into his back, peppering it with kisses.

“Makin’ something to eat after runnin’ with Steve all mornin’. Hope I didn’t wake ya up, Love.” You feel the shiver that shoots up his spine at your touch.

“No, I was just about to get up anyway, just so happens that I woke up to this sight.”

Bucky turns only his head to look down at you, a crooked smile adorning his scruffy face, “And you can wake up to it every day. Now how about you go sit your pretty little ass down on the couch and get our show ready? I’ll be there in a minute.”

You place a chaste kiss to his cheek before slapping his ass on the way out earning a glare from him. Bucky knows that you don’t eat in the morning but he has devised a plan because you not eating in the morning will follow to you only eating at dinner tonight.

You hear his heavy foot fall as you’re getting comfy on the couch only for him to pick you up and rest his back against the arm of the couch, setting you down in his lap, his chest to your back. He ignores your squeals and settles down.

While you are watching your show, Bucky is watching you, and before you know it, a piece of pineapple is passing your lips. Chewing happily, you don’t even notice that Bucky has you eating until the deep rumble of ‘good girl’ is whispered in your ear. A deep throb settles in your core as you continue to eat each piece he puts in your mouth, desperate to hear his praise again and again.

That was how it started, Bucky feeding you in the mornings. But it slowly progressed from that. He was always making sure that you’ve eaten your three meals a day, no if, ands or buts. You were an Avenger after all so of course you needed to eat to stay healthy with all the missions and training you go through. Bucky noticed the pudge on your belly coming back way before you did.

“Love, what is this movie even about? I’m so confused.” The smile in his voice was impossible to miss. With him against the headboard and your back resting against his chest, you couldn’t see his face. Whatever explanation you gave, Bucky didn’t hear a word of it. As you repositioned in his lap, you sat up, just a bit, but his hands on your stomach felt it, the small bit of fat soft and warm in his hands.

To this day you have no idea why Bucky stripped off both of your clothes and pounded you for hours, but he did, and that little bit of soft flesh made him go a little crazy.

During this time you didn’t even realize that you were gaining your weight back because for the first time since you met your last boyfriend, you had so much more energy. You didn’t need extra naps throughout the day, or feel dead tired after doing absolutely nothing. Now, your body had enough nutrients to function properly, the hump of your belly was there because you were healthy. You’ve had it all your life, nothing getting rid of it. To you it made you feel like you were fat, but to Bucky, oh, it showed him that you were a strong, healthy woman.

Everyday after training, you would boast to him about how much better you’ve been doing in training, claiming Natasha said so. Of course you have always been a very capable agent, but now that you had enough fuel to support the vigorous Avenger training, you’ve been doing better than ever, and Bucky couldn’t have been more proud; however, it all came to a head when you finally caught on to your weight gain.

Fresh out of the shower, you head over to your closet. It was no special occasion but Bucky being the perfect boyfriend that he is, wanted to take you out on a date, just because. After finding Bucky’s favorite pair of lingerie and putting them on, you huff. You don’t remember the bottoms feeling so tight. You passed it off however, thinking that maybe you did something to them in the wash.

But what you couldn’t ignore was how your favorite dress wasn’t fitting. It took way too much wiggling to get it past your hips and waist. What really set you off though, was that you couldn’t zip it. Already too tight on you before zipping, now you couldn’t get the damn thing to move more than an inch. Looking in the mirror you found the reason why the zipper refused to move. The small pocket of fat on your tummy that you thought you got rid of, was back, and larger than it ever was.

Turning to the side, you saw just how much it was coming out. You could’ve sworn you were a few months pregnant. How could you have missed this? It took a while, but you got the dress off so you could investigate the fat on your stomach. Gasping, you tried to suck in, in the hope that it would disappear. It didn’t.

Tears sprung in your eyes. How could Bucky find this attractive? Why hasn’t he said anything about this? How could you let yourself go like this? All these horrible thoughts raced through your head, before you heard Bucky’s sweet voice through the door asking if you were ready.

All of those little moments lead you to where you are now, standing in front of your mirror crying, while Bucky patiently waits on the other side of the door, thinking all is right with the world, as yours is falling apart right before your eyes. Before you can hide yourself, Bucky opens the door. Immediately, you move to cover yourself up, disgusted with the shape of your body hoping that he doesn’t look at what you can’t cover. Bucky, however, looks directly into your eyes first, seeing the pain and tears.

In two steps he reaches you and his strong arms envelop you, hands running up and down your back. “Love, what’s wrong?” You only bury your face in his chest further. He walks back to the bed, pulling you in his lap as he sits. Your naked body pressed up against his fully clothed one. Bucky’s right palm slides down your back and he tries to squeeze your waist when you jerk away from him.

“No! Don’t touch me there!” Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest at your repulsion, not understanding why you don’t want him to touch your waist. He doesn’t let you leave his lap however, keeping you in place.

“Why, Love? What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything. Look at my stomach, Buck!” You bite back another sob when he does, confusion written all over his face, not understanding what you’re trying to convey. “It’s FAT!” You all but scream, failing at trying to escape when his arms pull you down once again.

“Love…” He gets cut off by another sob falling from your lips. Instead of trying to talk you down, Bucky brings your lips to his and keeps your head in place. The only movement is the wobble of your lower lip as you try to contain your sobs.

A few minutes pass by before Bucky can’t stand it anymore, and he tilts your head and moves his lips. The kiss tastes of your tears but neither of you care. Clawing at his back, you try to get closer to him, wanting him to consume you.

When his hands trail down your sides, you pull away. Strong arms spin you around, naked back to clothed chest. The warm palm of his right hand forces you to look at yourself in the mirror.

“Buc..”

“No, Love. Look at how fucking sexy you are.” With his right hand still holding your chin, his left trails down your body, stopping over the swell of your tummy. “So goddamn pretty, you know that?” He whispers in your ear, kissing down your neck, cock twitching under your ass.

He spreads his legs, forcing yours to open as well and he groans deep and long at the sight of your pussy. “God, Love, don’t you see how pretty you are, so soft and strong and all mine.” You try to pull away, the feeling of looking at yourself too much, but Bucky’s strong hands don’t let you move an inch. “Feel what you do to me? Feel how hard my cock is?”

It’s too much, all of it. His praise, his touch, the sight of you. More tears well in your eyes and a pitiful whine leaves you. “Can’t, Bucky. I-I…” You have to close your eyes; you can't look at yourself any longer.

“Shhh, Love, you can, baby. Let Daddy take care of you. Let him show you how pretty you are. Open your eyes for Daddy.” At his request, you open your eyes, only to find his already on you. With tears still pouring from your eyes, Bucky wipes them away before laying you down on your back.

If there was anyone who knew your limits better than yourself, it was Bucky. He knows that having you look at yourself right now would only do more harm than good, but showing you how much he loves you is a whole different story. Before laying down with you, Bucky takes his clothes off, needing to feel you against his bare skin. “I love you so fucking much, you know that? Never met a stronger,” Bucky plants a kiss on your cheek, “more beautiful,” another kiss, “smarter, sweeter, perfect woman in all my life.”

With each kiss you can't tell if your erratic heart is slowing down or speeding up. This is such a foreign feeling for you, such unbridled love. Your head falls deeper into the pillows, Bucky’s scent enveloping all your senses, and you can’t think properly, your brain feeling fuzzy at the heedy stare Bucky is giving you.

“Daddy, I don’t, I can’t.” You don’t even know what you are trying to say, words no longer coming to you, but Bucky does, he always knows what you need.

“I know, Love. You just need Daddy to make you feel better, make you see how perfect you are for him.” Wrapping his arms around your back, he pulls you in closer to him, both of you gasping when his hard cock presses up against your naked core. Without thought, you grind your hips up, chasing the friction of his silky skin.

“All those tears, and all you wanted was Daddy’s cock, huh? Just want Daddy to fuck you dumb, turn that little brain off for you? Don’t worry, Love, Daddy’ll take care of you.” You wrap your arms and legs around him, pulling him closer, not leaving any space between the two of you, the hard planes of his abdomen pressed against the soft swell of yours.

Bucky doesn’t wait for you to beg, he can’t, not now, he needs to be inside of you, lining himself up, he pushes in, inch by perfect inch.”Shit, Love, you feel how perfect you are for me?”

Your lips part, letting a breathy whine out. Bucky doesn’t wait, slowly pulling out until only his plush tip is still inside, just to roll his hips back in. “Fuck. Look at Daddy, look at what you do to him.” It takes everything in your power to open your eyes and look at Bucky, the pleasure almost too much just after one thrust, but when you do, the sight that meets you is glorious. Face flushed, brows drawn together, lips parted, Bucky looked debauched.

“Good girl, see that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Without warning, Bucky rolls the both of you over, with you on his lap. “Since you listen to Daddy so well, why don’t you ride his cock, let him look at his pretty girl bounce?” This snaps you out of your stupor, there’s no way you’re going to let him see your stomach jiggle.

“Bucky, I can’t, not this way. What about the other way?” You try to turn around, but his left hand grabs your waist while his right lands a harsh slap to your ass causing you to clench around him.

“Ah, ah, ah, Daddy wants to see your face. You hear me?” Before you can complain again, Bucky thrusts his hips up, hard. You both moan, caught up in the sensation of his cock inside of you. Your hands fly to his chest, trying to balance yourself before you tumble off. Bucky doesn’t let up, thrust after thrust, pounding into your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! Daddy, right there, shit, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, just that you don’t want him to stop. The room is filled with the salacious sounds of your combined moans along with the clapclapclap of his thighs meeting your ass.

“So fucking good, Love, you know that? This pussy was made for me. Fucking perfect. Look at this little belly jiggling while I fuck you, shit, gonna make me blow my fucking load early. You’re. So. Fucking. Gorgeous.” Each word was punctuated by a vicious thrust. Ice pours down your spine, in the midst of pleasure you completely forgot why you didn’t want to do this position. He’s fucking staring right at your belly, hands gripping at your extra fat, just watching it ripple with each brutal thrust of his hips.

“Bucky stop, don’t look there, I don’t…” The rest of your sentence gets cut off when Bucky somehow fucks you even harder, effectively making your tummy move more. It’s too much: the feral look in his eyes, the perfect angle of his cock, and his beautiful moans. Despite your best efforts, you feel your orgasm building up. The little coil hidden under the small hump of your belly pulls tighter and tighter, and Bucky can feel it. He can feel your pussy pulsing around him so he moves his hands from your belly to your hips, grinding them against his coarse hairs with sharp thrust.

It pulls tighter and tighter until it snaps, dragging you under, blood roaring through your ears. You vaguely hear Bucky’s voice, “There you go, give it to Daddy. So good for me, soaking my cock. God, I fucking love you.” Bucky stops moving, giving you time to come down from your high. Still gasping for air, you fall down onto his sweaty chest, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You’re pulled out of your haze by Bucky. “Think you can give me one more? I think you can.”

He flips you over, back landing on the bed while he throws your legs over his shoulders, effectively causing your stomach to roll up, small pockets of fat pushing out. You whine, not wanting Bucky to see it, but he fucking loves this. Loves the bit of extra fat that has found its way under your chin, the soft flesh around your strong thighs, and the belly that fits perfectly in his hands. He loves it because it proves your healthy, that he’s feeding you well, well enough that you can train to your full potential, have the energy to do what you want to, not always be so tired you don’t want to do the things you love to do, that you aren’t afraid to eat what you want. That’s what he fucking loves, taking care of you and the way your body has changed has absolutely zero affect on his attraction to you. He will always think you are the most beautiful woman in the entire universe.

“Love, you don’t understand how fucking sexy you are, do you? Look at how well we fit together.” He cups the back of your head, making you look at your stomach as he enters you again, making your belly bulge more. “Do you see this, Love? See how pretty you are, and it's all for me, isn’t it?” The adoration in his eyes was almost too much, the swell in your chest threatening to burst as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling his love with every stroke. Bucky wasn’t fucking you anymore, he was making love to you, showing you how much you mean to him.

Bucky takes one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together, placing your hand on your tummy, feeling the bulge of his cock underneath your softness. “Daddy, feels so good. Fuck. Love you so much.” Bucky’s hips stutter when you say you love him, it has always been his weakness, the utter devotion and vulnerability that you allow him to experience is something he will never take for granted. Tears were streaming down your face, eyes probably red and puffy. Leaning forward, Bucky places his forehead on yours, eyes locked into yours.

“I know, Love. Can’t even begin to describe how much I love you.” Bucky can feel you getting closer again, pussy clenching around him, hands scrambling to grab onto something: his hair, back, hands, sheets, you can’t decide, the pleasure coursing through you too much. “Give it to me Love, make your Daddy proud and cum on his cock. Know you want to, just let go.” With two more thrusts, your eyes roll back, another orgasm rolling through you. This one shorter than the last, but no less intense. Bucky finds his release right after, burrowing his face into your neck, holding you to him, wanting to be as close as possible.

It takes a few minutes, but the both of you calm down, hearts returning back to normal. You’re the first to speak, breaking the comfortable silence. “You knew I was gaining weight, didn’t you?” With his softening cock still buried deep inside you, Bucky lifts his head up a small smirk adorning his face.

“Of course, but this little pudge,” he grabs your tummy and almost kneads it, “is because you’re healthy. You have so much more energy recently, and I fall deeper in love with you every single time I see how fucking happy you are now. You make me so proud to be able to call myself your boyfriend. You're so beautiful and I promise you that I will spend everyday for the rest of my life proving that to you.”

You don’t have any words to respond, so you just wrap your arms around him, breathing in his scent. And of course Bucky keeps true to his promise, and you believe him when he tells you that you are the most beautiful woman because he proves it to you everyday, in and outside of the bedroom.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader

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fandoms-x-reader · 5 months ago

Text

Sensitive! MC

Requested By: @fairwish

Summary: The brothers' reaction to an MC who is sensitive and gets upset about not having anyone who cares about them in the Devildom. The Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 3,064

This doesn't have Belphie because of the lesson it's based on! Sorry <3

Based on Lesson 6-15

You had been torn away from your life and taken to an unfamiliar place full of creatures that humans portrayed as scary and evil.

You didn’t know anyone in the Devildom. You didn’t have anyone who cared about you or that you could talk to about the trouble you were experiencing.

You were all alone, terrified, trying to figure out how exactly you ended up here.

And to top it all off, none of your new acquaintances seemed to care.

They all carried on without a worry in the world - as if it was the most normal thing in the world for a human to be in Devildom.

They didn’t do anything to try and soothe your pain of missing home or calm your fears of being surrounded by demons.

In fact, some one of them - Mammon - spurred them on by threatening to eat you if you didn’t listen to them or do as they asked.

You did your best to put on a brave face, to pretend as though their words and actions didn’t affect you as much as they did.

But it was hard to keep your composure when it was clear that not a single one of them cared about you.

You made your way to the Assembly Hall, your heartbeat still pounding in your chest.

You had just left the music room where you had a very intense one-on-one conversation with Lucifer after your near-death experience where you tried to save Beel and Luke.

“Hey, how about that Y/N, you’re alive!” Mammon stated as you entered the large room, a smile on his face that you weren’t sure was one-hundred percent genuine.

“Let’s see…yep, you’ve still got both arms and both legs. Your eyes are still in their sockets, and your ears are still attached. Guess you’re okay,” Beel added.

“I want to know what Lucifer did. You’ve got to give me the deets L-8-R, yo!” Levi said, a bit too excitedly.

“Whaaat, you’re still alive? Well, that’s boring,¨ Asmo replied, a small frown on his face, as if he was disappointed

You want to scoff at their reponses. How could they be so nonchalant with everything that just happened. How could they not care at all that you almost died trying to protect their brother.

“Of course. Unless he went crazy again like last night, Lucifer wouldn’t hurt Y/N,” Satan stated, the mention of your name bringing you out of your thoughts.

“And do you know why that is, Y/N?” Satan asked you, a small smirk resting on his lips as he asked the question.

You wished it was because Lucifer liked you. Or at the very least because you were a human. But you the knew the answer.

“Because I’m an exchange student,” you replied, softly, casting your gaze away from the demons standing in front of you.

That’s all you were to them - a business transaction. A pawn that was being used to ensure Lord Diavolo’s vision came to light.

“Exactly. I see you have a good grasp of what’s going on here,” Satan replied, and you felt tears begin to sting your eyes.

“If anything were to happen to one of our exchange students, it would make Lord Diavolo look bad,” Satan continued to explain and you took a deep breath in an attempt to steady your emotions.

“Lucifer would never do anything to harm Lord Diavolo’s reputation,” Satan added and you felt the ties that had been previously holding you back snap.

“You know, I actually forgot about that. For a moment, I was starting to think that Lucifer might actually care about me. Thanks for me reminding, Satan,” you replied sharply, your angry eyes locking with his surprised ones before you left the Assembly Hall.

Satan hadn’t expect such sarcasm to come out of you - such wrath. None of them did.

You had passed Lucifer and Lord Diavolo on your way out of the Assembly Hall and they could feel your irritation radiating off of you.

They didn't follow after you though, instead turning their attention to the five other demons inside the Assmebly Hall, silently demanding an explanation as to why you were so upset.

Lucifer thought that he had patched things over with you after your conversation in the music room.

He wasn’t the best at apologizing but he was sure that he had gotten his point across about how regretful he was over his actions.

He thought that you had accepted his apology and that things were okay, but after seeing you storm out of the Assembly Hall, we was no longer sure that was true.

After his brothers told Lucifer what happened before his arrival, he thought it would be best if he went and checked on you himself.

He found you in the courtyard, remnants of the tears you had previously shed streaking down your cheeks.

Lucifer wasn’t sure how to start the conversation. Mostly, because he wasn’t exactly sure why you were so upset.

It took a little bit of time, but when you finally opened up and told Lucifer about your troubles, he was surprised.

He was surprisingly sympathetic to what you were going through, but he didn’t exactly let that side of himself show.

He had already apologized to you for his part in causing you discomfort in the Devildom and he was the Avatar of Pride, after all, so getting a second apology was a tall order, and an unlikely one.

But, you did notice Lucifer doing small things around RAD and the House of Lamentation.

It could be simple things that provided more comfort for your life in the Devildom or moments of appreciation that Lucifer treated as trivial but ended up meaning more to you than you thought it would.

After that conversation with Lucifer, one thing was clear - he and his brothers weren’t treating you right and they needed to make amends for that and correct their course of action.

Mammon could arguably be the most sensitive among his brothers when it came to certain things.

He had his fair share of moments where he felt like he didn’t matter to his brothers and times where he felt like there wasn’t a single person in the Devildom that cared about him.

So, he knew just how devastating those thoughts could be.

When you first arrived to the Devildom, Mammon’s concern was making sure that he made himself out to be intimidating and indifferent towards you so that he could have the power in the friendship.

He wanted to dictate when and where the two of you would go and how things were done. After all, if he was going to be your babysitter, he wanted full control of the situation.

But that didn’t really work out for him, and it didn’t take long for him to not only have to bend his knee to your will - but he wanted to.

The truth was he had fun with you and you always found a way to make him smile. Though, he refused to say anything like that. Hell, he refused to even think anything like that when he was around others.

But, when you had your outburst in the Assmebly Hall, Mammon had seen the pained look on your face. The same pained look that he had seen on himself in the mirror.

He followed after you almost immediately, not letting you get too far before he caught up and pulled you into an empty classroom.

He stood in front of you, silence filling the air as you did your best but failed to hold back your tears.

Mammon dared himself to reach up and use his thumb to brush away the tears that were rolling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry, it’s just hard to keep it together when no one around you cares about you,” you stated, barely above a whisper as you kept your gaze on the ground.

Mammon felt his heart shatter as you spoke those words. He knew that he was at fault just as much as his brothers.

He wanted to tell you that he cared about you, but every time he opened his mouth to speak those words, they got lost.

So, instead he pulled you into his arms, hoping that his gesture would be enough to prove you wrong.

Hoping that you would see that even though he had a tendency to act aloof, on the inside he was screaming for you to show him attention and to care about him the same way he cared about you.

Levi isn’t the type of person who knows how to handle this kind of situation.

He wasn’t even planning on going in to school today. He was perfectly content with doing his studies from the comfort of his bedroom.

But, ever since he made a pact with you, he had to admit he felt some sort of desire - a very SECRET desire - to spend more time with you.

The idea that his brothers would be hanging out with you at school while he was sitting at the House of Lamentation, missing out, was enough to spark the sin that he tried so hard to control.

And now after seeing everything that had just happened, he was heavily regretting his decision to leave his room.

Because now he was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

On one hand, he wanted to disappear back to his otaku haven and pretend like he never saw your outburst

On the other hand…he couldn’t. He felt like he had to do something to help, and the feeling only grew when he didn’t see any of his other brothers moving to go talk to you.

His social anxiety was skyrocketing, but he couldn’t leave a fellow TSL fan in their time of need. That was the reason the told himself when questioning why he was doing this.

When he finally did find you, he once again froze in place as he tried to figure out his next move. He didn’t expect to find you crying.

He found some nearby tissues and slowly approached you with them, relaxing slightly when you gently took them from him and began wiping away your tears.

Levi managed to ask you why you were crying and when you explained it to him, everything made sense as to why you snapped at them.

Levi was almost always self-depracating. Sometimes it was easier to tell yourself that no one loved you then get your hopes up and get hurt.

But he didn’t want you to go down that rabbit hole - because it wasn’t true.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to do it, but he was going to find a way to show you how much you meant to him and his brothers.

He was going to prove how just in your small time there, you had already changed at least three of them for the better. And it wouldn't be long until the others followed suit.

Levi might not have the perfect words to say or the perfect way to cheer you up, but what he did have was a true friend.

And you may have to wait a while until he’s comfortable enough for him to tell you that. But, in the meantime, he’ll do what he could to show you that at least one person cared about you.

Satan had been the one you snapped at, so he was by far the most surprised.

For one, he wasn’t exactly sure what about his statements made you so angry.

He wasn’t trying to be rude or offensive, he was simply stating the facts about Lucifer.

For two, he didn’t think you had such rage inside.

In a somewhat twisted sense, he dared to admit seeing you portray his sin gave him a small sense of gratification.

But, that thought was at the back of his mind. At the front, was trying to talk to you about what happened.

He took some time to properly analyze the situation. He tried to come up with every possible reason that could have caused you to lash out.

He wanted to have a response to any situation so that when he did talk to you, he wasn’t floundering for words.

He found you in the library at the House of Lamentation a little while later and he was grateful you were in a quiet and private place that he just so happened to be comfortable in.

You looked up from your book for a moment to see who had entered before returning to your fictional world.

Satan came to sit down next to you and paused for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

It was a much more sincere apology than you would expect from the Avatar of Wrath and it was enough to pull your attention away from your book.

“It’s not what you said. It’s what it reminded me of,” you replied with a small sigh.

“What did it remind you of?” Satan questioned, his eyes holding no malice but a hint of curiosity

“That I’m alone down here. That I don’t have anyone to turn to or talk to. That I don’t have anyone who cares,” you replied softly, your eyes looking away from Satan’s intense ones.

Satan had thought about this being one of the reasons, but he was stuck in a mental debate.

He was so used to being apathetic but something about the way you opened up to him melted his heart and he suddenly felt an innate desire to protect you.

“The library is a great place to go if you’re feeling lonely,” Satan stated.

It was always his comfort place, so he saw no reason why it couldn’t be yours.

Not to mention the fact, that he was typically in the library and maybe a small part of him was hoping that he could also be something you sought out when you were feeling lonely.

Asmo didn’t really understand the weight that his words carried until you were angrily walking out of the Assembly Hall.

As soon as you disappeared from sight he began questioning himself. Did he really say it was boring that you weren’t dead?

He had meant it as a joke when he first said it. It was a joke that most demons would find funny and he was so good at trying to be a people pleaser.

He was used to making those kinds of jokes because it would boost the way he looked in front of other demons and we all know how important his reputation was to him.

But your outburst made him realize how it must have sounded to you - a human who had been torn from their world and thrown into one that was vastly different.

And a twinge of guilt poked at his heart, gradually growing in intensity until he felt like he could no longer stave off the need to apologize.

He found you in your bedroom and was thankful that the two of you would have a moment to be alone.

His apology would be so much more genuine if it was in privacy where he could drop the mask he constantly wore in public.

When you opened the door Asmo suppressed a gasp as he saw tears rolling down your cheek and the guilt only continued to eat away at him.

He had always thought that crying was such an ugly thing. But when you did it, it had a certain elegance.

You had a way of making anything you did beautiful. It was a trait that Asmo was actually quite envious of.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Asmo said, the words spilling from his lips before he had even fully registered what he said.

You were confused by his sudden confession and as you tried to find the right words to reply with, he continued.

“I'm glad you're okay. And I'm sorry I made you cry," he added.

Asmo grabbed a nearby tissue and gently brought it to your cheek, dabbing away your tears.

You knew that what he said was probably a joke, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

You opened up to Asmo and explained why it hurt so much to hear everyone say those things and it was like a lightbulb went off in Asmo's head.

He completely understood where you were coming from and he hated that none of them even thought about how hard it would be for a human to adjust to life in the Devildom.

In an attempt to show you he cared about you, Asmo will turn up his charm 100% on you.

More compliments, more hugs, really anything he could do.

And if that wasn't enough he would take you out with him and introduce you to some of his friends.

Being lonely was one of the worst feelings and Asmo never wanted you to feel that way.

Beel felt the most guilty after seeing you so upset.

He was the one you were protecting when Lucifer tried to attack you.

You had stepped in front of him and shielded him.

He had been so thankful that Diavolo managed to reach Lucifer in time and stop him from hurting you.

And he made sure to tell you as much when you were resting up in his bedroom after the attack.

Yet, when that conversation was happening in the Assembly Hall, he said and did nothing to help you.

He could see you growing more and more upset as his brothers talked, but he continued to just stand by and listen.

As soon as you left the Assembly Hall in tears though, Beel knew he had messed up.

He immediately followed after you, genuinely worried about you.

When he finally caught up to you, Beel immediately wrapped you into his arms, pulling you closely into him.

Panic was filling every inch of his body as he tried to come up with the right words.

In the end, he told you, “My brothers were just kidding.”

You let out a small chuckle, gently pulling away from Beel and wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I know that what they were saying wasn’t completely true, but Satan was right. I don’t have anyone down here that cares about me,” you replied, and Beel’s lip turned into a frown.

He looked so sad and lost at your words that you almost felt like you needed to comfort him.

“When I asked you why you protected me and Luke, you told me it was because we were your friends and we were important to you,” Beel began, and your eyes locked with his indigo ones.

“You’re my friend too, and you’re important to me,” Beel added with a small smile that portrayed how sincere he was being you.

His expression was enough to bring a small smile to your face and you allowed yourself to open up to Beel.

You knew that the whole experience brought the two of you closer, and you knew that Beel was someone who would always be there for you and someone you could always turn to.

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asapeveryday · 8 months ago

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FANTASY - K.TOBIO

Pairing: (time skip)Kageyama Tobio x Reader

Warnings: sexual fantasies :)

Summary: you’d had a crush on tobio through most of high school, he was your friend and he was cute, so it was only natural. When he sends you a ticket to his game on japan’s official team, that crush is reawakened in a far more mature way.

A/n: I’m gonna be spouting out sum haikyu stuff hopefully 🙏

RED IS A COLOUR you’re not quite accustomed to seeing him in.

It was only a year ago when he was adorned in the beloved navy and orange uniform, a bold number nine spread on his back where a new shiny number twenty now occupies.

Everyone changes in that first year after high school, but seeing Tobio again in person only makes it more apparent. His already broad shoulders have broadened, his arms as built as you remember if not more. His hair still short and sleek, a deep black that accentuates the blue abyss that is his eyes.

You can recall all the times you’d lost yourself, drowned in the sight of his face and his unwavering stare. Of course he never though much of it, dismissing your gaze as being zoned out. You were lucky he was so oblivious of his attractive appearance at that time, because you were nothing short of smitten.

You didn’t particularly care for volleyball unless he was playing. He has a way of engulfing everything in the game, you’ve never seen him so in tune with himself and his surroundings as you have on the court. You forgot how demanding his presence is, even on a team of amazing players he still drew attention.

The look on his face, eyes trained on the ball, hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, eyebrow’s slightly furrowed, red fabric hugging his athletic body just right. It sends an embarrassing shiver through your body that you haven’t experienced since graduating from Karasuno.

It’s his turn to serve and his expression is focused as ever, posture alert and fingers spinning the ball with ease. You can’t help but lock your eyes onto his hands, toying with the volleyball as his chest expands and deflates with every fleeting breath.

The ball is in the air, and his palm makes contact powerful as a spark of electricity.

BAM.

The noise is terrifying, echoing through the whole stadium. the way the ball hits the other side of the court within bounds as Japan’s side of the stands erupt with screams of triumph is cinematic. You find yourself joining the yells of joy, smiling at the sight of Tobio loosening up, a slight smirk gracing his face as he nods at his teammates.

‘God.’ You think. ‘I feel like I’m a kid again, watching him play.’

When he sends another earthshaking serve across the court you can’t help but press your legs together. ‘No,’ you think again. ‘This is different. I feel different.’

He’s ready to really start playing now, jaw in the air and teeth bared into a dangerous grin that you just barely saw during high school. The way his arms flex with every pass, the way his fingers nimbly send the ball to his teammates or over the net, the way his toned thighs tense with every crouch to receive the ball. It just might send you over the edge, sparking thoughts that almost never graced your mind during your friendship with him.

You can see it; his hands caging you in as he hovers above you, careful not to lean his weight onto your body. You can imagine the sensation of his knee in between your legs as he tenderly kisses your lips. Tobio never cared for girls in high school, but you can imagine that a year of playing pro has widened his experience in various ways. Still, you can’t see the boy being rough with you, not when he’d sneak you notes in class or apologize for even touching you in the slightest.

Unless in one of his bad moods, you can see Kageyama Tobio being sweet. Though his length may touch places you could only dream of reaching, pumping in and out of you with the power and stamina he’s worked so hard for these past years, you know he’d kiss you like you were his first love, like he depends on the air you exhale.

“Missed you s’much.” He’d utter under against your neck, painting your skin pink and purple and his hips buck into your heat fervently. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” He’d say, and you’d mewl in response, wanting to tell him about how you longed for his focus on you since you were a first year in high school but unable to form the words.

Still, you’d like to imagine he’d know, that you wouldn’t have to tell him about how much you looked forward to his games, to staying back late after school and throwing balls for him and Hinata, to sitting with him at lunch and attempting to tutor him before giving up and going for a walk with him instead. You relished your conversations with the blue eyed boy, he was straight forward and honest. He knew exactly what he wanted out of his life at the time, and you secretly hoped you were included in that.

You couldn’t think of him this way back then, it felt wrong seeing as he trusted you so innocently as a friend and nothing more. Everything was different now. You can see it clear as day from your spot on the stands.

This Tobio, the one currently staring down a player on the opposite side of the net. He wouldn’t mind how the sight of his face coats your underwear with arousal, he wouldn’t care if you pressed yourself against him.

The thought of him spreading you open in that intricate nature of his, deep blue eyes staring up at you as his tongue explores between your legs, nipping at the soft flesh of your inner thighs before delving and devoting himself to your core.

When Kageyama committed to something, he did so to the fullest of his ability. Should he decide you’re worthy of climaxing at his hands, you’re sure he’d make sure it’s the best climax of your life.

You can’t help but bite your lip and pinch your thigh at the idea. It’s shameful how you’re staring at him straight on while fantasizing about cumming in his mouth or all over his dick, but it also adds a rush of adrenaline.

You finally shake the thoughts off when the final point is earned, Japan winning their first game of the Olympic Season. The stands erupt in celebration, you scream and laugh with the strangers by you as if you’re old friends. When your eyes part from the people seated beside you and find the court, you almost freeze at the sight that meets you.

He’s found you in the crowd, presumably remembering the exact ticket he bought you. Despite this newer, more adult version of Tobio initially shocking you, with one look at his face you know one thing hasn’t changed.

He’s still your friend, and his still thinks about you.

Tobio smiles almost nervously when your eyes lock on his, and he subtlety nods towards you. It’s enough to make your heart melt, and enough to fuel fantasies for a lifetime.

#fanfiction #fanfic #haikyuu tobio #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #haikyu x reader #hq tobio #hq #hq x reader #hq smut #smut

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thef1diary · 25 days ago

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PLEASE mafia!danny fucking reader while holding a g*n to her head (he would never do it to harm her, just you know... spicing things up)

— holy fucking shit. this sparked the dark n twisted thoughts I like to keep to myself. wow. 18+ content below. it gets dark, be warned.

Daniel was dangerous in every sense of the word. The gunman for the mafia, known for his precision and ruthlessness. He had no business being in your bedroom, much less shirtless and tangled with you, the rival mafia boss’ daughter. Yet here you were, lips swollen from his bruising kisses, your nails dragging down his bare chest as his hand gripped your waist like he owned you.

You weren’t sure how it had started. Maybe it was the adrenaline, the reckless need to cross lines you had no business crossing. Maybe it was the way his dark, hooded eyes lingered on you, how his rough hands made you feel alive in ways you’ve never experienced. Whatever it was, it consumed you now.

He kissed you like a man starved, his tongue claiming yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You whimpered, your chest pressed against his, both of you half-naked, the heat between you palpable. His hands roamed your body with expert precision, sliding over your curves, his calloused palms igniting sparks everywhere they touched.

“Fuck,” he growled against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re such a dirty girl, letting me touch you like this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, fingers reaching for the waistband of his pants, ready to push things further. As soon as you freed his cock, the air shifted. A cold sharp click echoed in the room, and you froze.

The barrel of a gun pressed against your temple.

Your breath hitched, your body going rigid as you looked up at him. His expression was dark, predatory, a sharp contrast to the lazy smirk he wore moments ago. His hand was steady, the weapon an extension of himself, and for a moment, fear coursed through your veins.

“Daniel…” you whispered, your voice trembling, a mix of shock and arousal.

“Shh,” he murmured, guiding you towards the bed, gesturing with his gun. He had you pinned beneath him on your silk sheets, his weight grounding you, his gun cold and steady against your forehead. “Don’t act so surprised, princess. You knew who I was when you let me in.”

Your heart pounded, the tension thick as he loomed over you, the gun never wavering. You should have been terrified—this was the man your family despised, a man who killed without hesitation. But the heat pooling between your thighs betrayed you, your body responding to the danger in ways you couldn’t control.

“You’re crazy,” you said, your voice breathy, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“You’re crazier,” he shot back, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, “I bet you’re so fucking turned on right now.”

You hated that he was right. His free hand slid between your thighs, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties, and you gasped.

“See?” he said, his tone mocking. “You’re dripping for me, princess. All this fear, all this danger… it’s making you so wet.”

“Fuck you,” you spat, but your defiance only made him smirk.

“Oh, I plan to,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, the gun pressing just a bit harder. His other hand was on you instantly, tearing your panties off and spreading your legs wider. His cock pressed against your cunt, and he inched forward, sliding the tip across your folds.

A moan escaped your lips when he nudged your clit, your sweet sounds only urging him on.

“I shouldn’t even be fucking touching you,” he murmured, a brief chuckle echoing through the room. “But you…you just made it impossible to stay away.”

Your lips parted to respond, but his hips snapped forward, burying his length to the hilt, and the words died on your tongue. The air left your lungs in a sharp cry instead, your body arching into his as he started a slow, punishing rhythm.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his free hand gripping your thigh to keep you in place. “Rival mafia royalty, spread open for me like a fucking whore. Does daddy know how dirty his little girl is?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, but the heat in your voice betrayed your defiance.

His smirk was cruel as he adjusted his grip on the gun. “Not so tough now, are you? Not with me inside you, holding a gun to your head.”

You shuddered, heart racing when he trailed the gun over your cheek down to your chin. The cold metal settled under your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, filled with lust and control, so intense that you couldn’t look away.

“Eyes on me, princess,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “I want to see that pretty face when you moan for me.”

As if on command, a moan tore from your lips, your body trembling beneath him as he thrust harder, deeper. His smirk widened, and before you could process what was happening, the barrel of the gun was at your lips.

Your eyes widened, a mix of fear and pleasure replacing each survival instinct. He raised an eyebrow, silently daring you. “Open,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Tentatively, you parted your lips, allowing the cool metal to slide in. His breath hitched, his movements faltering for a fraction of a second as you dragged your tongue along the barrel, swirling it as if it were his cock.

You looked up at him through your lashes, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked lightly, and the guttural groan that escaped him sent a fresh wave of heat through your body.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his grip tightening on your thigh. “You’re filthier than I thought. Pretending my gun is my cock?” His finger hovered over the trigger, lightly touching it and chuckling when your eyes widened at his actions. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be filled, doesn’t matter how.”

You moaned around the barrel, your hands clutching at the sheets as his pace quickened. He pulled the gun from your mouth, a thin trail of saliva glistening on the metal, and he pressed it against your temple once more, his control over you absolute.

The danger, the thrill, the filthy, forbidden pleasure of it all overwhelmed you, leaving you gasping and squirming beneath him.

Daniel’s hand wrapped around your throat, his grip firm but not painful, his thumb brushing against your racing pulse. “You love this, don’t you? Being at my mercy.”

You nodded, desperate, matching his thrusts to edge you closer to your orgasm. Your thighs shook, the pleasure mounting unbearably high. “Please,” you begged, your voice breaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter in your core.

“Please what?” he tilted his head, pulling his hand away from your throat only to trail towards your pussy, finding your clit. “You want to cum? You want me to let you fall apart while I hold this gun to your head? Knowing I could pull the trigger and end it all?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your hands wrapping around his body, nails raking across his back as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. “Yes, Danny, please, ‘m so close—”

“That’s my girl,” he purred, his lips brushing against your cheek before he thrust into you one last time, tipping you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening and shuddering as he held you close. He pulled out right before his own release that followed seconds after yours, his cum splattering across your lower belly.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, your limbs still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. Daniel’s weight shifted above you, and you flinched slightly as the cold press of the gun moved away from your head.

When he collapsed beside you, you heard the soft click of the safety being switched on, and your heart skipped a beat. Your wide eyes turned to him in shock. “The safety was off?”

He smirked, utterly unfazed, as he leaned back against the headboard, resting the gun casually on the nightstand. “It’s not fun if there’s no risk, sweetheart,” he said, his tone infuriatingly calm. “Plus, you’re still the enemy, I wasn’t going to let my guard down for a good fuck.”

“Daniel—”

“Don’t act like you didn’t love it,” he teased, his hand sliding to your waist, pulling you closer until your bare skin was flush against his. “You’re still so desperate for me.”

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours, stealing the air from your lungs. The kiss was messy, filthy, and full of the same raw intensity he’d shown moments earlier. His teeth grazed your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you dazed.

He tilted your chin up, his dark eyes locking with yours. “Since you seemed to love my gun so much,” he murmured, his voice dripping with wicked intent, “next time, it’s going inside your cunt.”

A shiver ran through your body, and you swallowed hard, unsure whether it was anticipation or fear—or both—that made your pulse race.

Daniel grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction, as he stood up and started putting his clothes back on. He pulled out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. Lighting it, he took a slow drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Get some rest, princess, I’ll see you soon.”

You lay there, bare, still reeling from his words and actions, body still tingling as picked up his gun before leaving your bedroom. You knew you should be terrified of him—this man who was dangerous, unpredictable, and your supposed enemy.

But instead, all you could think about was the next time.

want more mafia!daniel? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

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fallingfavourites · 5 months ago

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the fisher king - cm fanfic

summary: Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You stayed at home to relax. no one had expected the terrifying turn this vacation would take.

pairing: bau team x reader (platonic), hints/alludes at spencer reid x reader and elle greenaway x reader

cw/tw: typical cm violence, shooting, blood

word count: 8,568

a/n: basically just follows the fisher king episodes plot, english isn't my first language and im dyslexic so sorry in advance, tried to edit as best as i could! i hope this fic makes sense i dont even know anymore, enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated just dont be mean about it pls

main masterlist - cm masterlist

Everyone on the team had gotten 2 weeks off. Elle and Derek decided to not waste a second of it and flew away to Jamaica. Hotchner went to spend time with his family. Gideon would most likely be birdwatching in his cabin if you had to guess, he doesn’t like sharing much about his personal life. Neither does Reid who is heading back home to Las Vegas. You had just ended up on your couch with a cozy blanket and a movie you had been meaning to watch. A sudden loud ringing made you jump up. Rubbing your eyes so they can refocus.

You had fallen asleep. You would’ve laughed at yourself if it wasn’t for the constant loud ringing. Finally, finding your phone between the blanket you picked up without looking at the caller ID. “Y/n? Y/n?” It took a second for you to register JJ’s voice as she repeated your name.

“Yeah, Yeah, I’m here is everything okay?” you asked, running a hand through your hair. “You need to get to the office. Now.” She sounded serious.

“What happened?” You asked as you vaguely heard someone talk to JJ. It kind of sounded like Gideon. If he came to the office, it must be serious.

“Tell me when I get there, I’m on my way.” You said, not even waiting for her to respond to your question and you hung up. A million thoughts race through your head as you put on a work-appropriate outfit. As soon as you were ready you got in your car and drove to the bau as quickly as you could.

When you arrive JJ immediately walks up to you and starts filling you in. Elle got arrested, Gideon received a head in the mail, Hotch had a strange phone call, and she had just gotten a framed butterfly. “So, someone is targeting the team?” Crossing your arms over your body. You’ve worked for the bau a few years now and have never experienced anything like this.

“You didn’t get anything?” JJ questioned. It was strange. “No, I haven’t.” You replied.

“Huh, that’s strange.” She said what you were just thinking. JJ frowned, clearly trying to think of a reason why you didn’t. “I’ll keep my eye out for anything strange.” You nodded as you told her.

After about 30 minutes of looking over all the evidence the team had gathered so far, Elle, Morgan, and Hotch stepped out of the elevator. JJ walked up to them, so you got up and made your way over.

“Virginia? You mean that son of a bitch is from here?” This is the first thing you hear Elle say as you open the glass doors. Talking about Frank Giles.

“I don’t know if he’s from here, but this is where he flew to. Arlington.” JJ started explaining as you stepped up next to her and Morgan. He gave you a nod as he acknowledged you.

“He’s got a long criminal record. Manslaughter, robbery, rape.” She continued as she read from the file.

“What about the victim?” You asked crossing your arms, “Marty Harris.” Derek filled in.

“Uh, he’s a two-time convicted fetish burglar, registered child sex offender…” JJ read from the other file. “And we have his head.” Gideon interrupted her. “CSU just positively identified the one delivered to my cabin.”

“Don’t waste time on the first victims. They were unrepentant, bad men. They only got what they deserved.” Hotch spoke up. “What is that?” Morgan asked him.

“I got a phone call last night before you called from Jamaica.” He said looking over at Derek.

“Any mention of a ‘her’?” Elle asks Hotch. “You must help him save her.” he replies.

“Oh, so there’s a ‘him’ now, too?” Elle responds, clearly annoyed. Which is totally reasonable after getting arrested for murder and barely having any sleep.

“I think he means Reid.” You look over at Gideon. “Reid?” You and JJ both say at the same time. “We need to regroup.” Hotch says as last, and you all walk into the office.

You, JJ, Morgan, and Gideon are sitting at the round table. Hotch stood behind you and Elle stood near the tv screen. “So, clearly we have a psychopath intent on drawing us into his game.” Hotch said with his arms crossed. “Playing with us.” Gideon looked at his hands on the table. “Then let’s return the favor.” Elle says.

“He kept telling us repeatedly to save her. What ‘her’?” Derek questions.

“Items he’s sent must be some kind of clues.” You nod at what Gideon says. “Let’s get them up on the board.” Hotch nods towards the board as he says that.

“I got a Nellie Fox baseball card from 1963, and I got a head in a box.” Gideon starts as JJ gets up walking up to the board. “I got a rare butterfly in a shadow box.” She says as she starts writing it down on the whiteboard. “And repeated messages to ‘save her.’” Hotch adds.

“I got the decapitated body.” Elle says smiling sarcastically. “And a nice visit to the Jamaican Police Headquarters.”

Hotch looks over to you to say what you got. “I didn’t get anything.” You shrug.

“Not even a phone call?” He questions, raising an eyebrow. You shake your head. It looked as if Hotch was going to say something, but Gideon changed the subject. “Reid called from Nevada. He's on the way back here with a skeleton key and a note he got, too.”.

“And the guys who called me said, ‘the youngest holds the key’” Hotch adds on. “That’s Reid.” Elle says as she keeps pacing.

“Okay but wait a minute.” You look over at Derek. “Unsubs, they don’t contact us this way. I mean they might taunt us, dare us to catch them, but they don’t drag us into their fantasy.”

“Why not?” JJ asks Morgan when he finishes.

“Because their fantasies are sexual fantasies.” You answer before he can. “Right, taunting us is a show of power, but making us the object is…” He tries to search for the right words, “I don’t know what the hell that is.”

“There’s something else about the baseball card.” You look back to Gideon as he starts a new theory. “Nellie Fox was one of the stars of the 1959 White Sox. I went to almost every game with my father that year. Fox was my hero.” He says as he leans back in the chair. “So, is it a coincidence that he sends this to me, or does he know how I feel about him?” He questions looking over at Hotch. This makes JJ turn around.

“I collected butterflies when I was a little girl.” You all look over at her. “That’s how I knew what butterfly was in the box.”

“So, he knows us?” You question. “I got an anonymous message.” Hotch slightly shrugs. “I got a police raid.” Elle adds on. “But he knew exactly where we were.” Morgan says, supporting your theory. “Hotel in Jamaica Gideon at the cabin, Reid in Vegas, you at your home.” He lists off.

“He got that from the Bureau computers.” Penelope's voice makes you turn around in your chair; she looks nervous and has a file in her hand. “Your locations are always in there so they can find you if they need you. And I checked the log. The hacker was definitely in the personnel folders” She explains. Your brows furrow, how could this happen. “There were room numbers to the hotel in Jamaica, the address of Gideon’s cabin… There’s a lot of information in those databases.” She finished. Something about the way she’s talking is putting you off. There is something she isn’t telling you.

“Have you figured out how he was able to get into the Bureau’s computers?” Hotch asks her. She is silent. Just for a second. “I’m still working on that.” Lying to a room full of profilers probably isn’t the smartest thing to do. “Garcia, if you know something…” Hotch asks, clearly also picking up some things off.

“No, it’s, um…” Penelope's voice breaks slightly. “It’s just… I…” She’s clearly trying to find the right words, scared of upsetting the team. You give her a supportive smile. You’ve known her for years and know she would never do a bad thing on purpose. “I was playing a game yesterday.” She is silent for a second.

You look back to the team and catch JJ’s reaction. She clearly knows what Penelope is talking about. “An online game.” You look back over at the blonde with glasses. Tears shined in her eyes under the LED lights.

“A game?” Gideon asks. “Not on the Bureau computers, sir.” She quickly clarifies. “On my own personal laptop.”

“No, Garcia. No, no, no.” Derek says shaking his head. You close your eyes and lean your head on your hand. “I don’t understand.” Hotch looks for clarification.

“Wireless Internet.” You simply say. “By wirelessly hooking into the Net here to get online, the hacker could have gotten into my computer first, and… I have far less protection on my own laptop.” Penelope stoically explains it to him.

“And he could have gotten into the entire Bureau computer system this way?” You can’t see Hotch’s face as he says it but by the tone of his voice, you have some idea. “Yeah, it’s possible.” Penelope nods.

“Playing a game?” Gideon says as he gets up. “How could you be that stupid?” Seeing the look on Penelope's face, you have to resist the urge to defend her. Yes, she did do something stupid, but Gideon didn’t have to talk to her like that. “Information, files. You have a responsibility.”

“I know, sir. I’m so sorry.” Penelope replies to him. Gideon doesn’t reply. He just turns around. There is an awkward silence that hangs in the air. “But I found him.” Penelope eventually says. Almost full-on crying by now.

“You did?” You ask hopefully. “I know who he is, the hacker. His name is Giles. Frank Giles.” You all look at each other hearing this information. “He lives in Arlington, Virginia, four miles from here. I have his address” She continues as she hands the file she was holding to Hotch.

“Garcia, you said Giles?” Morgan asks her, wanting to confirm he heard it right. She nods quickly. “Let’s go.” Hotch only has to say those two words, and everyone is up and walking out of the office.

The team and you put on your bulletproof vests and got into the black SUVs. Sirens blared as you raced through the streets to get to Frank Giles as quickly as you could. The adrenaline is already pumping through your veins. Finally getting answers about why this is happening. You entered the building with the swat team. Derek kicked the door in, as usual. Everybody walks in with their guns raised. You hear some yell out that it’s clear. You, Derek, and Elle stand for a closed door.

“Frank Giles. FBI.” Derek yells out.

“Come out Giles.” Elle yells. They look at each other and both give a small nod. Then open the doors. As you enter you lower your gun immediately. You see Frank Giles’s lifeless body, only wearing underwear, laying on a dirty old mattress. A sword stuck in him.

“You got to be kidding me.” Elle’s the first one to speak.

“Hotch! Gideon! I think you’re gonna want to see this.” Derek calls out to them. You tear your eyes away from the gruesome scene to look at Elle. But she’s looking at the wall in front of you. So you look up to see ‘here thy quest doth truly begin’ written on the wall in blood.

All of you start taking in the crime scene. Vests already taken off. “He’s definitely playing with us.” Hotch speaks up. “His identification checks out.” Elle says handing his wallet to Hotch. “That’s Frank Giles.”

“There’s a big ol’bag of money sitting right here on the dresser.” Morgan says as he walks over to the bright blue bag. “So, Giles took Harris to Jamaica to kill him.”

“And then the unsub killed Giles.” You finished Hotch’s sentence.

“Yeah, but he paid him first.” Morgan says, confused about it.

“And left the cash?” Elle questions. “He must be well off.” You say, putting your hands on your hips.

“He said these were ‘unrepentant, bad men.’ Are we looking for some kind of vigilante?” Hotch asks, looking over at Gideon.

“No. The bodies are nothing but a way to get us interested. They’re game pieces. The killings are secondary.” Gideon explains nonchalantly.

“Well, this guy likes to write things in blood on the walls.” Elle says as she inspects the bloody walls.

Suddenly your phone starts ringing. All eyes are on you, but you look to Hotch. Silently asking for permission to step out for a bit. He gives you a nod and you step out to the hallway of the apartment building.

When you're alone you answer your phone.

“L/n.” You say but it stays silent on the other end. Pulling the phone away from your ear to check if you hadn’t accidentally declined the call. “Hello?” You ask as you put the phone back to your ear but it’s silent again.

About to hang up suddenly a voice comes through your phone.

“Agent Y/n L/n.” The voice sounds hoarse, you don’t recognize it. “Who is this?” You ask confused. Putting your right hand on your hip.

“It is your task to make sure they hear, and they listen.” The person ignores your question. You release this is the Unsub. “Do not let them stray.” He’s talking about the team.

He has to be. You’re about to respond as he hangs up.

“Damn it.” You let out a frustrated sigh. What could he have possibly meant by that? You keep staring at your phone.

“Hey,” a comforting voice takes you out of your thoughts, “You okay?” You look up to see Spencer walking up to you.

“What?” You look at him confused. Putting your phone back into your pocket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.” You smile, somewhat awkwardly.

Reid nods and sends a just as awkward smile back. It’s good to see him again. He looks around the empty hallway, hands in his pockets, hair slicked back behind his ears.

“Why are you out here?” He asks you.

“Oh, uh, no reason.” You shrug and let out a laugh. Why did you just lie to him? You honestly don’t know. It just slipped out. He also clearly doesn’t believe you, but before he can question you, you speak up.

“Let’s go, we can use you in there, genius.” You say as you nod towards the room the team is in. This time the smile you give each other isn’t awkward. They both are genuine smiles. Reid always gets a slight blush when someone calls him genius.

You never say it to embarrass him though. You say it full of affection. When you joined the bau, in your first case you got paired up with Spencer. He had been working at the bau for about a year. The two of you hit it off very well.

Walking back into the room you hear Hotch and Derek, “Midnight wouldn’t cast a shadow.” “‘Hour be none.’”

“3 P.M.,” Reid says as you walk in side by side. “Hey, guys. Garcia told me where to find you.” Hotch crouched near the body glances past Reid to look at you with a questioning gaze, silently asking about the phone call. You shake your head telling him it wasn’t important. And again, you don’t know why you are lying to your team about this. You tell yourself it’s because there are more important things right now and that phone call didn’t even make sense.

“3 P.M?” Gideon asks disrupting your thoughts.

“It’s medieval. The days used to be broken into hourly intervals, the canonical hours of the breviary.” Spencer begins to explain, “Prime, 6 A.M”., terce, 9 A.M., sext, 12 noon, none, 3 P.M., and vespers 6 P.M.”

Elle smiles at him fondly and points her finger at him, “Reid, do not ever go away again.” He smiles at her as Gideon starts talking. “Medieval. That’s why the language changed. ‘doth’”

“Everything this guy does is a clue.” Hotch says looking at the team.

“Okay, but, guys, it’s 4:35. What do we do? Leave to the blade in till 3 P.M. tomorrow?” Derek asked.

“What if we block that window out?” You asked, pointing towards the window. Reid nodded at what you said and turned to one of the crime scene investigators. “Do you have any spotlights in your car?” He asked Gina.

“Sure.” She says as she's getting up, Elle thanks her.

When she came back with a flashlight she gave it to Reid. He crouched down next to where you were standing and pointed the light to the sword.

“See, this sun is right here at 5 P.M., Morgan, follow the shadow as I move the light higher.” Derek starts to move a small table out of the way to get closer to the wall. “Okay, and do what?” He asks when he’s finished.

“Tap.” Hotch instructs him. Derek starts tapping on the wall. He stops when he finds a hollow spot. “It’s hollow.” He says as he looks back at Hotch.

“Definitely an Indiana Jones movie.” Elle says looking over at you when you laugh at her joke.

“Feels like the wallpaper’s been replaced.” Morgan says to Hotch. “Tear it open.” He replies. Derek takes a knife out of his pocket and starts cutting open the wallpaper. Pulling back the wall.

“It’s a box.” He states looking back at the team. “Pull it out.” Hotch instructs him again. “Wait, are we sure that’s safe?” Spencer asks as he stands up. You look over at him. “You think it’s a bomb?” You ask him questionably.

“It isn’t. You think he’d be playing this game just to blow us up?” Hotch retorts. “He’d have already done that as long as we’ve been standing here.” Derek agrees with him and pulls out the box from the hole. He placed it on the table from earlier.

Hotch crouches next to Gideon to get a better look at it. You make your way over to see what it is, while Spencer doesn’t move. Morgan tries to open it, but it seems like it won’t budge.

“It’s locked.” He confirms, “You want me to break it?”

“No, we should process it first.” Hotch answers his question.

“The youngest holds the key.” Gideon suddenly speaks up. And you, Hotch, and Morgan all look at Reid. Spencer searches his pants pockets for the key. Only to realize he put it in the pocket of his button-up.

He does a little jog up to the box and goes to open it. Putting the key in and backing up slightly as he turns it. Music starts to come from the box.

It takes a second for you to recognize it. Turns out all those failed piano lessons are good for something. “Schubert.” Gideon says but before he can say which piece you beat him to it.

“The Trout Quintet.” He looks over at you confused, clearly, he didn’t expect you to know it. You just shrug in reply as you focus on the note that Spencer pulled out of the box. “Five people fishing.” Hotch says, giving context to the song.

“Never would it be night, but always clear day to any man’s sight.” Reid starts reading off the paper. “Well, that was worth it.” Elle says as she turns away.

“The lid.” Gideon points at the box, “Little tab right under the lock.” Morgan leans over Reid to open the lid.

As he opens it there’s a dvd in it, but also a blonde lock of hair tied with a pink bow.

“Jesus.” Slips out of you. “Oh, god.” Elle says at the same time.

Morgan pulls both out as Gideon lets out a tired sigh. Derek gives Elle the lock of hair. “Do you have that evidence bag?” She asks one of the CSI’s. “Here you go.” He replies as he holds out a bag for her to put the hair in.

“Thy quest.” Morgan says standing up and holding out the dvd so you all can see it. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon putting his head in his hand. After everything is mostly wrapped up at the crime scene you all make your way back to the office.

Everyone is clearly tired and wants to catch this guy.

On the car ride back all you can think about is that phone call. It keeps repeating in your head. “Agent Y/n L/n.” “Who is this?” “It is your task to make sure they hear, and they listen. Do not let them stray.” You just can’t seem to make sense of it. What is it that you need to make sure they listen to? Maybe this dvd?

Without even releasing you’re back, sitting at the round table. The dvd is playing.

You see a barely lit office. A man stumbles into the frame and sits down at the chair, you can’t make out a face though.

“He moves funny.” Hotch noted. Derek looks back at Hotch to reply, “It’s like he’s injured or something.”

The man in the video starts talking. “I assure you, you will all understand in the end why it must be this way.” It’s the same voice of the man who called you at Frank Giles’s place. You shift in your seat as he continues. “You might even thank me.”

“Don’t hold your breath, scumbag.” You see Hotch glance over at Elle as she says this.

“You know now you’re on a quest. A young girl’s life depends on the successful completion of it.” The video shows a blonde girl being held captive. She’s throwing things at the camera and hitting the bars of the cage. “As you can see, she is quite beautiful and in distress.” The way he talks about her along with the footage makes your skin crawl.

“Now please listen closely for there is one rule and this rule must be followed.” You sit up straighter in your chair. The things he said on the phone call must be about this.

“The one rule is, only the members of your team may participate in the quest: Jason Gideon, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Elle Greenaway, Y/n L/n, Spencer Reid, Jennifer Jareau, Penelope Garcia.” As he said, all your names and pictures of everyone on the team showed on the screen.

“A quest must be completed in the proper way, or it isn’t a quest, is it? That’s it. One rule. Simple. Now, you will be receiving an item soon that will hold the final clue you will need to finish the quest. You will find you will also need a book which has inspired many adventures like mine. Believe me, when I tell you I truly hope to see you all soon. It will mean a successful end to this adventure for all of us.” The video stopped playing. You look at everyone on the team.

“This guy’s got pictures of us?” Elle is the first one to speak up.

“What do we do now?” Reid asks Hotch.

“Well, the lock of hair’s being analyzed for DNA. There might be something on file.” He answers Reid.

“I’ll get Video to enhance the shots of the girl.” JJ says as she gets up to leave.

“Let's get the clues up on the board. Maybe we can make some sense of something.” Hotch instructs.

“Wait, we’re going to play this guy’s game?” Elle asks him, frustrated.

“Do we have a choice?” Spencer replies. But you’re not focusing on their conversation anymore, you’re focused on Gideon. You can’t figure out what he’s up to as he’s about to leave the room.

Everyone else turns around when they hear the click of the door opening.

“Be right back. You guys keep working.” Hotch says as he gets up to talk to Gideon. However, you don’t listen. The rest of the team looks at you as you follow him.

You’re following him out of the room for two reasons. Wanting to know what’s going on, everyone has always told you you’re too curious for your own good. And thinking now might be a good time to also mention to Hotch that you got a call from the Unsub.

“Jason?” Hotch calls out as he follows Gideon, “Jason!” He calls out again when the older man doesn’t stop. Gideon walks into his office and lets the door slam closed behind him. Before Hotch follows Gideon into his office, he gives you a disapproving look for following him. “We’ll talk about this later.” He says dismissively and walks into Gideon's office.

You let out a sigh. Why did you think this would work. You turn back around to have your walk of shame back to the rest of the group.

Morgan lets out a small laugh as he sees you walking back into the room. Reid gives you a questioning look, but you just shrug it off.

Not long after Hotch handed a paper over to Reid and said Haley received it. You, Morgan, Elle, and Reid had been staring at these numbers for a while now.

“My eyes are so heavy I can barely see it.” Elle says with a sigh.

“It has to be some kind of code, right?” You question, leaning against the table next to Reid. “The Unsub said we needed a book, didn’t he?” Reid brings up. You look over at him, curious about where he’s going with this.

“Yeah. ‘a book that inspired many an adventure.’” Morgan quotes from the video.

“It’s a book code. Each one of these sets of numbers represents a particular word.” Spencer explains and points at one of the codes on the paper, “For instance, page 118, line 30, word three. We need to figure out what the words are and fill in the blanks.”

“Right, but we don’t know what book.” You respond, another dead end.

“And the trouble is, it has to be the exact same edition of the exact same book that he used.” Reid adds on.

“Just got a DNA hit on the lock of hair.” JJ says as she walks into the room, “Rebecca Bryant.” She hands Elle a picture after showing it to you, “She’s been missing out of Boston for two years.”

You look over at her shocked, “Two years?” She nods as she looks at you.

“Guys, how are we supposed to figure out which book this code was copied out of?” Derek brings the conversation back after being handed the picture from Elle. “I have no idea.” Spencer replies. JJ walks up to the whiteboard and sticks the picture of Rebecca on it.

Reid was standing in front of the whiteboard, “He said we have everything needed to complete the quest.” he said as he turned around to look at you, Elle, and Derek. Derek was sitting on the chair backward, Elle practically laying in the leather chair, you were leaning against the table and JJ was sitting normally at the table looking over the evidence.

“The answer’s got to be up there somewhere.” Elle mumbles, very clearly tired.

“JJ, get some reporters here as soon as you can.” You quickly turn around as you hear Gideon say this. Alarm bells going off in your head.

Once again, the things the Unsub said on your phone call repeating themselves. It is your task to make sure they hear and they listen. Do not let them stray. Gideon’s not listening. “For what?” JJ asks him. “Just say we need help on a new case.” Is all he gives in response before he walks away.

You get up to follow him, again. You have to stop him from doing this. Gideon is always surprisingly fast for his age. You just barely catch up to him when he reaches Hotch again. “Sirs, you can’t do this.” You say, well it more sounds like you're begging.

Gideon and Hotch, both give you confused looks.

You take a deep breath. “He called me.” You say looking at them.

Their reactions are exactly what you expected. Gideon stays silent, he’s profiling you. “What? What do you mean he called you L/n? When did this happen?” Hotch asks you with a stern look on his face as he crosses his arms. You feel ashamed. You should’ve told them. You know that. You just hoped you had figured out what he meant earlier so you could’ve given the team helpful evidence and not more questions. “Back at the apartment.” You say, placing your hands behind your back so they don’t notice how nervous you are.

Gideon just shakes his head and walks away. Obviously thinking he has better things to do than deal with you.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Hotch asks you.

“I… I don’t know,” The unsatisfied look Hotch gives you makes rethink your answer, “I wanted to figure out what he meant.”

“So, you could show off?” Hotch fills it in for himself. You quickly shake your head. That’s not why you did it. “No, no I didn’t want to add more unanswered questions for the team.” It sounds stupid and you realize that.

Hotch sighs and rubs his forehead, “What did he say to you?”

“He told me to make sure they hear, and they listen and to not let them stray. I think he was talking about the video.” You reply to him, “I think the press conference is a mistake, Hotch.”

“Gideon knows what he’s doing L/n, I trust him. You should’ve told us sooner.” He says before walking away. You couldn’t shake the nervous feeling. You went to get some coffee. Not ready to face your team yet.

On your third cup, you see Hotch walking back into the office. The press conference is over, there’s nothing you can do about it now. You see Elle walking out with Hotch.

“Anderson, take Greenaway home.” He says, looking over at him. “Yes, sir.” Anderson immediately replies.

“No, I’m fine.” Elle protests. “I’ll have your car brought over later.” Hotch tells her. “Alright, come on, Anderson.”

Do not let them stray. It repeats in your head.

“Sir, is it okay if I go with them? I can come back whenever you need me.” You ask Hotch. He hesitates for a moment, thinking it over. Elle smiles over at you, she appreciates it.

“Alright but keep your phone on and close L/n.” Hotch tells you.

Elle was struggling to stay awake the whole drive back to her house. Anderson dropped you both off and went back to the office. Elle let you into the house. You’ve been here before, many times, you and her occasionally have a drink after a case when neither of you wants to be alone.

Elle tosses her keys on the coffee table and drops her bag next to the couch and flops down on it. You can’t help but let out a laugh. She doesn’t even have the energy to glare at you, shifting on the couch to get into a more comfortable position.

You put down your own bag next to hers and take off your gun and gun holster placing them next to her keys on the table. You walked into her kitchen, you hadn’t eaten yet and doubted she had.

Opening the fridge just to find it practically empty. There are some leftovers, but they don’t look edible anymore. You grab them to throw them away, the smell hits you and you pull a face.

“Gross.” You mutter under your breath and throw it in the trash can. “Hey, I'm going to get some food, you want any?” You ask her as you walk back into her living room.

She lets out a noise that’s something between a hum and a groan.

“Alright, I’ll take that as a yes.” You say with a smile on your face, “I’m taking your keys, I’ll be right back.” Reaching for her keys on the table.

She gives you a thumbs-up while trying to stifle a yawn.

So, you lock the door behind you as you leave for the small supermarket near her house. It’s about a 10 minute walk away.

You grab some iced coffees and some simple heat-up meals. You’re done in about 5 minutes, pay for everything and walk back. The plastic bag is heavier than you expected it to be, it leaves imprints on your fingers.

You reach Elle’s front door and reach for the keys in your jacket. You try to open the lock as quietly as you can, not wanting to wake her up.

As you open the door you freeze. The plastic bag somehow becomes ten times heavier, and it drops to the floor. The ice coffee starts to leak but it’s the least of your concern.

Elle is laying on the floor covered in her own blood.

“Oh my god…” You whisper. You rush forward to her somehow without falling over your own feet. You fall to your knees. Hands reach up to her face. She isn’t conscious. You give her a few taps on her cheek and her eyes flutter slightly.

“Shit, Elle. You gotta stay awake, okay?” You look around helplessly. Her phone is on the floor next to her. Did she call 911? You place one hand on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, knowing it isn’t doing much as you feel the red hot liquid slip right past your fingers.

You reach over her to check her phone. Luckily you know her password.

You check her out going call and see 911. A sigh of relief escapes you.

Help is on the way. You just have to do everything you can to keep her alive until then.

Blood is staining your hands as you try to stop the bleeding. Her eyes closed.

“No, no, no, no, Elle, stay with me. Come on, you gotta keep your eyes open. Keep them open for me. Fuck. Elle. Come on. Please… I… I can’t lose you. Please.” A million things ran through your head. If you had been here, you could’ve stopped him.

If you hadn’t left, Elle would be okay. God, why did they have that press conference. Why hadn’t you been more demanding with Hotch that it was a bad idea.

Vague sirens interrupted your train of thought. Taking one hand to check Elle’s pulse. Time stopped. You couldn’t feel a heartbeat.

“Fuck.” Panicking. What would cpr do if she was bleeding out? Not like you had any other choice. You started compressions.

No thoughts run through your head anymore. Just pure focus on the task. Not even noticing the sirens getting louder and louder.

A paramedic pulls you away from Elle. Only now realizing they had arrived. Their mouths were moving but you couldn’t make out any of the words.

You stepped back. Letting them do their job.

Everything is hazy, you blink rapidly. Tears fall on your cheeks.

Have you been crying this whole time? You didn’t even realize it. They place Elle on a stretcher and make their way back to the ambulance. You follow them without saying a word. You don’t think about the fact that your phone is still in your bag.

Getting ready to step into the ambulance you noticed a car arriving. Anderson. He stumbled out of the SUV.

“L/n, what happened?” He tried not to show his fear but the tremble in his voice gave him away. “Call Hotch. Meet me at the hospital. I- I’ll explain there.” You spoke hurriedly while getting into the ambulance.

The paramedics are rushing the stretcher into the ER. You’re having a hard time keeping up with them. The doctors take Elle over.

“I’m sorry, we are taking her into surgery. You aren’t allowed any further.” One of the nurses is holding you back. You have no fight left in you, so you just nod and make your way to the waiting room.

Anderson is already there. His eyes are red. Had he been crying? He looked like a mess. You didn’t even want to think about what you looked like right now. The way Anderson’s eyes widened when he saw you back at the house told you enough. You definitely looked worse than him.

“I called Hotchner. Him and Agent Gideon are on their way now.” Wringing his hands as he spoke. He’s nervous. “Do you... um, do you know anything yet?” He barely could get the question out without tears threatening to spill.

“She’s in surgery.” Was all you could manage to get out as you spoke. Wanting to run your hand over your face but as you reached you noticed the deep maroon stains and how much it was shaking so you put your hand back down.

“If you want to, I can wait here, so you can get cleaned up.” He offered. You gave him a thankful but tired smile.

Making your way over to the bathroom. The door handle stuck to your hand slightly, leaving a slight red imprint on it.

You let out a heavy sigh, resting your head against the door as you closed it behind you. Walking up to the sink you didn’t dare to look into the mirror.

You turned on the faucet and put your shaky hands under the ice cold water. The water colored red instantly. You tried not to think about the fact it was Elle’s blood you were washing off.

Keeping your hands under the water until it turned clear again made them start to tingle from the freezing water. Turning the faucet off, you placed your hands on the sides of the sink. Not daring to look at your own reflection.

Involuntarily you let out a shaky breath. Trying to recollect yourself.

Hotch and Gideon would arrive any moment. They would have questions for you. Questions that would force you to think back to what happened not even an hour ago, while all you’ve been trying this whole time is to forget about it. You couldn’t bear to try and remember.

You dried your hands and walked out of the bathroom, scanning the waiting room for Anderson. He was talking to two men in suits. Two men you could recognize anywhere. How did they get here so soon? How long had you been in the bathroom? You looked at your wrist. The face of your watch is stained with blood. You quickly pulled the sleeve of your jacket back over it.

“It appears she dialed 911 herself before she passed out.” You hear Anderson say as you get closer to them. Hotch and Gideon turned around when they noticed Anderson's gaze shifting to you.

The pity and maybe even guilt that Anderson feels when he makes eye contact with you is clear on his face. Or maybe it’s clear to you since profiling is your job, but then how come you couldn’t prevent Elle from dying. No. She isn’t dead. Not anymore. The paramedics shocked her back to life. She’s alive. She’ll be okay. She has to be. You would never be able to live with yourself if she wouldn’t be. Hotch keeps his eyes on you for a minute while Gideon turns back around.

“Why weren’t we notified?” He asks Anderson.

“The offender apparently took her ID and gun. The uniform I talked to didn’t even know she was in the Bureau until I arrived on scene.” He replies to Gideon quickly.

“Get back over there.” Hotch says turning back to look at Anderson. “This is a federal crime scene. Nobody touches anything. We process it.” He instructs the younger agent. “Go.”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson replies as he leaves to go and do exactly what Hotch told him to.

The two agents turn back around to observe you. You are staring into space; your mind is clouded. Nothing feels clear anymore. Hotch and Gideon glance at each other. Both concerned with the state you’re in currently. Gideon takes out his phone and walks a few steps away, going to call the office.

“L/n? Hey L/n?” An authoritative, yet comforting voice made you reorientate. Hotch squinted his eyes and ever so slightly tilted his head. He was profiling you. And you would’ve noticed if you weren’t so tired.

“Sorry, what were you saying sir?” Crossing your arms over each other.

“You’re lucky you weren’t there as well.” He said touching your shoulder. But you didn’t feel lucky. All you felt was guilt, but you simply nodded. “Is there anything you remember?” He crosses his arms just like you did.

“I-” You choke on your words. You close your eyes and shake your head trying to get your thoughts in order. “I wasn’t even gone for 30 minutes. If I had just… If I hadn’t left, she would be okay.”

“If you had been there, he most likely would’ve shot you as well L/n.” Hotch tells you. Before you can say anything, else Gideon walks back over to the two of you.

“Trap and trace got nothing.” He says leaning against the wall and putting his phone away. “Unsub used a disposable cell.” You look confused at that. Hotch notices.

“The unsub, he called us. Taunting us about Elle.” He explains to you. You let out an exhausted sigh. It’s as if this case never ends.

“We got our best CSU team. If he left anything, a print, a hair, sweat, anything…” “They’ll find it.” Gideon cuts Hotch off. You look down at your hands, they are still shaking.

“I’m going to grab a coffee.” You mutter out and leave the two agents.

After grabbing your coffee, you go and sit in the waiting room. It is completely empty. Would you rather have it be busy? You’re not sure which would be worse. Because now you must sit here in this hurt. This constant tight feeling in your chest, as if you’re not getting enough air.

A few minutes later Gideon walks in. He nods at you as you look at him. He sits down a few chairs away from where you’re sitting, giving you some space. You sit in silence, it’s not uncomfortable but it also isn’t exactly comfortable. “Hotch is calling JJ and Morgan.” He says, explaining where the other agent is. You just nod, not having the energy to reply. You look down at the coffee in your hands, you haven’t taken a single sip. It’s pretty much cold now. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon scrabbling things down on the magazines that lay down on the table. You don’t ask him about it.

After a while, Hotch walks in and you look up from your drink. He’s gotten rid of his suit jacket. “Any word?” He asks Gideon.

“Nope.” Gideon replies simply.

“I called JJ. I told her we’d call them if anything changed.” Hotch tells the two of you as he leans on the two chairs in front of him. Gideon and you simply nod at what he says.

“What’s all that?” Hotch asks as he notices the writing on the magazines.

“This unsub’s extremely organized.” Gideon explains instead of answering his question, “He sounded truly shocked that we didn’t follow the rules. He honestly believed we would simply listen to his directions.”

“He’s delusional. He thinks he’s a mythological king.” Hotch says, his eyebrows furrow slightly.

“But delusion and this level of organization are almost mutually exclusive.” Gideon corrects Hotch, “You don’t meticulously plan contacts in the real world if you’re suffering psychotic breaks from reality.” Before Hotch can reply to Anderson walks back in. “How is she?” he quietly asks. You stare back down at your coffee again.

“No word yet.” Hotch replies to him, “Is the scene processed?”

“They’re finished. We still have it locked up tight, though.” Anderson explains.

“They find anything?” Hotch asks, he sounds exhausted.

“CSU found a partial print.” You look up as Anderson says this. “The shooter wrote a message on the wall in blood and,” He did? How did you not notice that? Hotch and Gideon glance at you just for a second, probably thinking the same. “In one of the smudges, they found a whorl pattern.” Anderson hands over the file to Hotch. “They made a lift. They aren’t sure whether it’s enough to get a hit, but they are processing it now.” Anderson continues as Hotch hands the file over to Gideon. You get up from your seat, still holding your coffee, you walk closer to Gideon to look at the file.

He grabs the top picture of a bloody fingerprint to reveal what the unsub wrote on the wall. RULES. Dripping down the wall. You try to think back as hard as you can but don’t remember seeing it. You should’ve seen it. Gideon reads what’s on the picture and looks up at Hotch. He places the file back down on the table in front of him.

Hotch leaves to get coffee. Leaving you and Gideon alone again. You go to sit back down in the chair but stop.

You can’t help the words that slip out of your mouth. “You shouldn’t have done the press conference.” You turn around to face him. “I tried to warn you.”

Gideon doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at the file. You want to yell at him. Scream that it’s his fault. But you bite the inside of your cheek.

“I was just doing my job.” He says quietly, so quiet it’s barely a whisper. You can’t help but let out a scoff and stare at him. If looks could kill Gideon would be six feet under by now. You respect him, you truly do, but he made a bad call and can’t own up to it.

The reasonable part of your brain tells you, you are projecting your own feelings of guilt and anger on him, but you don’t have it in you to be reasonable right now. So, you storm out of the waiting room. You throw your coffee in a trash can as you walk past it. Hotchner passes by you with two coffees in his hand, he’s put his jacket back on, he raises an eyebrow when you don’t acknowledge him. He looks back at you but keeps walking back to the waiting room.

You let out a frustrated sigh. You notice one of Elle’s doctors and go to ask if they have any new information.

She just tells you the same thing, “No, I’m sorry.” And she walks away.

You just wish someone could tell you something, anything. You’re tired, exhausted, angry, sad, terrified, guilty. Your eyes start to sting as you try and hold back your tears. You look around and walk into the nearest bathroom.

When the door closes the damn breaks and tears fall down your face. A sob escapes you and you place your hand over your mouth. You try to focus on your breathing to try and calm down. It works a little bit.

You decide washing your face might help you get grounded again, so you walk over to the sink. Turning it on and putting your hands under the water. Somehow the water of this sink is even colder than the one from before. You cup your hands under it and splash the water on your face.

You reach to grab a towel to dry your hands and face but catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You look even worse than you imagined. Your mascara is all over the place and so is your hair. There even is some dried blood on your face, you quickly scrub it off with a damp paper towel.

So many thoughts and feelings have been racing through your head over the past few hours, you can barely keep up with them. Did you overstep with Gideon just now? Possibly. You just couldn’t handle bearing all the guilt you were feeling anymore.

Before you leave you check yourself in the mirror again. You look… less chaotic to put it nicely. You smooth over your hair and clothes and walk out of the bathroom.

You start looking for Hotch and Gideon but only find the latter. He’s staring into space, the thing you’ve seen him do all day. You look around before approaching him, hoping to find Hotch instead.

“Hey…” You clear your throat as you stand next to the chair he’s sitting in. He takes a second to look up to his left and gives you a nod of acknowledgment. A certain awkwardness flows between you two. Neither saying a word.

His fingers are interlaced, resting on his lap. He’s trying to appear calm and collected, but his shaking knee is giving him away.

There’s a free chair next to him. You debate with yourself whether you should sit down or not. Gideon nods over to the chair as if he was reading your mind. “Just sit down, kid.”

A quick nod is all you give him in response as you go and sit down.

After sitting in this silence for a few minutes, you speak up. “She’s going to be okay right?” You rub your palms over your thighs, trying to shake the nervous feeling.

“Greenaway is strong, she’s a fighter.” He doesn’t know if she’ll be okay. He is probably as terrified as you are right now. Once again, you just nod. You wring your fingers. Letting out a sigh, you look over at Gideon.

“Sir, I’m sorry if I overstepped…” He looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, “Earlier, in the waiting room.” You remind him.

Gideon nods, he hadn’t expected you to bring it up again. He wasn’t mad at you; he was mad at himself. He should’ve listened. And he would regret the choice he made, along with all the other choices over his career. Gideon waved his hand at you, telling you that what happened didn’t matter.

You and Gideon sat in the hallway for another half hour before a doctor finally approached both of you. Hearing the news a sigh left you. Relief flooded your body.

Elle is okay. Elle is alive.

Gideon went to call the team as you followed the doctor. Elle was laying in the hospital bed. She looked peaceful. You can’t remember the last time you saw her this relaxed. You approach her bed and sit down in the chair next to it. All the memories of today wash over you again, the thought that you could’ve lost your friend. You wipe away a single tear that falls.

Gideon walks up next to you after a few minutes. Laying his hand on your shoulder.

“They caught him, he’s dead.” You turn around to look at him, “They saved Rebecca.” You look back to Elle as you nod at what he says. Part of you wished you could’ve been there with the team. Gotten some justice for Elle. But you were where you needed to be. Right here. In the hospital, sitting next to Elle as she wakes up.

#criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #elle greenaway x reader #elle greenaway x you #aaron hotchner x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #penelope garcia x reader #jason gideon x reader #derek morgan x reader #criminal minds

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ace-turned-confused · 7 months ago

Text

mould me for ruin

marcus acacius masterlist | main masterlist

pairing: marcus acacius x virgin f!reader summary: after years of watching general acacius, you long to wield a sword of your own — an opportunity arises for your dreams to come true, in more ways than one word count: 4,6k warnings: 18+ only, reader is able-bodied / inexperienced & a virgin, probably historically inaccurate yippie!, unspecified juicy age gap, pet names, smut, loss of virginity, f masturbation, fingering, unprotected p in v, comeplay, praise kink, size difference, bit of corruption & innocence kink, some dacryphilia, dirty talk & possessive acacius, Armour Stays On, Skirt Stays On extra info: subligaculum = underwear, mamillare = breastband/bra — if this is wrong then yell at google, not me a/n: so i watched the trailer with my best friend, looked at her immediately and said “i need him to tackle me to the ground” and here we are. i couldn’t help myself. @morallyinept thank you Jett for encouraging me to write this and listening to my deranged rambling, love you so much my friend 🤍 not beta'd, live laugh love

You’ve watched him for years — defending his honour, moulding young boys into fearless soldiers, striding up the palace steps to stand before the emperor. His confidence never falters, and it’s astonishing how his men follow his constant orders, never complaining, never challenging him. He speaks, they listen — you would do the same.

You’ve always dreamed of what wearing armour like his would feel like — how it would weigh down your shoulders, how it would clunk and rattle as you walk, how the leather would flow around your legs. That’s all it’s ever been — a dream, a fantasy. You’ve found as of late that you’ve had other dreams, too.

General Marcus Acacius has always been something of a God to you, he could never do wrong in your eyes and you often thought of him at fleeting moments during your day’s duties. Now, you think of him at night, too, and you don’t know how to stop. Instead of wearing that armour yourself, you’ve started imagining how it would feel if someone else pressed it into your skin. In all of your dreams, it’s Acacius wearing that armour.

You’ve noticed it’s not just your mind that’s affected — you feel unbearably warm, a throbbing sensation between your legs that only intensifies if you ignore it. You used to squeeze your legs together to try and quell that feeling, soon finding that it turned into pleasure.

You’ve always been a curious girl — one night you pulled off your sheets and shoved your hand down to explore yourself, finding you were wet, and if you pressed your fingers into one specific spot for long enough, you felt euphoric. This happens most nights now, and you have to cover your mouth when it’s quiet to avoid waking someone up.

You wondered if anyone else experienced this too but have always been too scared to ask — sometimes you feel embarrassed just thinking about it.

Acacius would never dare to even look at you, for what would a man of his stature want with a girl like you, but there’s no harm in you continuing to look at him — lingering in the shadows during training hours, fixated on him during noble proceedings. You swear sometimes he stares directly at you in a crowd, eyes burning into you as he singles you out.

The sun is just beginning to set, Marcus’ final session of the day has concluded and the servants have come to harp to his every need. One brings cloth for his face, another a small cup filled with water for drinking. A young boy had nicked his arm during a one-on-one showcase, the blood now dried on his skin as bandaging is wrapped around his bicep. The boy looked terrified of what the consequences might be, but Marcus reassured him that no real harm was done.

His body aches as he longs for rest — he’s not quite as young and agile as he once was.

Trudging out of the arena, he notices you — it’s not the first time, either. He imagines you just have an inquisitive mind and are fascinated by the spectacle of physical combat, as most are — but you don’t seem engrossed by the pompous behaviour or extravagant events. It appears as though you live in hopes of being able to train, that you dream you could be the one in the arena. You step out of hiding and try to sneak off in the opposite direction.

“Something you are looking for, girl?”

You halt in your tracks, turning to face him with wide eyes. You don’t respond.

“Answer when you are questioned.”

“I did not intend to be a bother, General Acacius, I will be on my way, my apologies.”

“There is no need for an apology. I have seen you here before — on many occasions, in fact.” He steps towards you and you stand, unmoving. “Tell me, girl, why are you really here.”

Your eyes flicker around as you consider your answer, fingers twitching at your sides as you chew on your lip. Finally, you tell him, “I… simply enjoy watching. You are finely skilled, it is magnificent to witness. All of you, I do not watch you alone, of course.” Your voice wavers as you rush out your last sentence.

“Do you wish to be in the arena, yourself?”

“I could not.”

“I did not ask if you could or could not.”

Again, you don’t respond as your gaze lowers to focus on his chestplate, eyes tracing the twisting gold patterns. He considers how to get the truth from you, and his decision is undoubtedly something he shouldn’t entertain.

“Meet me at sundown tomorrow in the clearing by the lake, it is not too far a journey on foot. You have never been spotted here, so I imagine you will have no difficulty making it out there undetected.”

You sputter out a reply as he walks off, tripping over your words but don’t make any real effort to stop or counter him. Whether or not you show up tomorrow is ultimately your decision, and he will not hold it against you if you choose to remain in the shadows. He does hope you do join him, though, he hopes you might surprise him.

You’ve spent all day weighing up what to do. A few others noticed your mind was distant but you managed to keep their suspicions at bay. When the General caught you the night prior, you were certain you’d be in trouble but he was shockingly calm.

He stood right before you and for the first time, you could take in his features — you’ve only ever been able to admire him from afar. Grey streaks on his temples and spread along his jawline, steel gaze and curved nose, arms and shoulders even thicker and broader up close. You felt that low heat settle between your legs as he questioned you — your dreams will be far more vivid from now on.

Acacius was right when he assumed you could make it out here unnoticed, you’ve mastered the art after years of sneaking around. The sun is just starting to dip below the horizon when you hear rustling in the tree line behind you. You turn and see him break through the foliage, clad in his armour with a sword on either hip.

“You are here.” He runs his eyes over your whole body as he moves into the clearing.

He walks out towards you and draws one sword, angling the blade to catch the light as he flips it around in his hand before presenting the grip to you. You furrow your brow in confusion.

“Unless you have one in your own possession, you will need a sword. I did not bring two for my own use.”

You take it in hand, clenching your fist repeatedly to get a feel for it, twirling the sword around — it’s easier to handle than you imagined, but still a solid weight.

“Tonight we will just begin with a few basic movements. You need to be in control of your weapon — if you fear it, that is when you will harm yourself.”

You spend hours focused on moving the sword around your body, watching Acacius’ demonstrations and then mirroring them. It’s not long before you can speed up your actions, remembering the patterns without having to be shown.

“I must admit, I am impressed. You are managing the blade well.” You glance up at him mid-performance — he rests a hand on his hip, his lips just starting to curl into a small smile. “Do you have a weapon of your own? I will not tell.”

“I have a small dagger I found long ago, I find peace in keeping it well-maintained.”

“You will carry it on your person at all times.”

“I should not.”

“This is not a case of should or should not, you will carry it. You may be secure near the arena and its surroundings, but this world is not always a safe one. Your dagger will do you more good in your hand than in your bedchamber.”

He walks towards the water's edge and looks out over the lake. Turning to face you, the moonlight bounces off the water and shines around him — he looks otherworldly. You realise now, as you stand under the twinkling stars, just how long the two of you have been out here.

“It is late, we should make our way back to town. I would like to continue your training, you have made a promising start — if you wish to learn more.”

“Thank you, General. I would like that. When will we next meet?”

“The night after tomorrow. You cannot practise during daylight on your own, and repetition is necessary for mastering an art like this. I will see you then.”

“May I ask…” You fidget with the sword in your hand. “How come we are so far out? Would it not be simpler to just train in the arena?”

“And think what would happen if someone were to see — a girl, sparring with a general in the arena after dark? You will be sent for exile, or worse.”

You hand the sword back to Acacius, eyes flitting up to his and breath hitching in your chest as his hand grips over yours.

“Goodnight, General.”

“Rest well, you will need it.”

He bids you goodnight, sheathing the sword back on his hip. You glance back at him as you retreat into the woods and he’s still watching you. You’re not sure how much sleep you’ll get, but you’ll definitely be well-rested.

It feels as though time had stopped altogether the past two days. Your duties dragged on for hours and you tossed in your sleep. You'd snuck off as usual to view the training sessions, but it isn’t enough anymore now that you’ve done it yourself and spent time alone with Acacius.

You ran his words over in your head, your dagger will do you more good in your hand than in your bedchamber, and he is right. What use is a weapon that you cannot use? You tried tucking it into your subligaculum, but it would dislodge as soon as your movements became vigorous. You took some spare cloth and tied it around your calf, managing to secure the dagger in a way that would remain in place without drawing your own blood in the process. You’re eager to show off your craftsmanship to him.

Acacius is nowhere to be seen when you arrive tonight, a gentle breeze dancing in the leaves and causing small ripples on the water’s surface, lamplight flickering in the distance across the lake. You can hear rustling behind you but pass it off as the wind or woodland creatures until you hear a significant snap and fling yourself around.

You’re met with Acacius, standing no more than an arm's length away — he slashes his sword towards you before you can greet him. You duck down to the ground, air displaced above your head as you look up at him in shock.

“Your reflexes are defensive… swift, but defensive.”

You rise slowly, unsure what his further plans are, chest heaving as you try to calm yourself. Staring at him, you see he’s focused on your hand, a small smirk on his face — following his eyes you realise you’d taken hold of your dagger, the blade shining as it catches the setting sun.

“I see you are carrying your blade, good girl.”

You feel hot. You didn’t know mere words could do to you what your dreams do, but you push it down and blame the adrenaline coursing through your body.

“You already know how to defend yourself, that much is clear. Here we are training to attack, to kill, if that is what will save you. Am I understood?”

“Yes, General.”

You nod and lift your tunic to your knee, still taking in deep breaths as you secure your dagger once more. What was the point of this exercise?

“How did you know I would not retaliate?”

“You would not have stopped if I had been a real threat. You know in your mind I would not harm you, just as I know you would not harm me. That is what makes a bond like this successful: trust.”

The night’s session goes smoothly after that. You do a few repeats of your basic movements and advance into cutting through the air with the blade, Acacius a safe distance away should you lose your grip. Just like your first night, the moon is high up in the night sky by the time you remember the outside world.

“You are making quick progress. How about we try sparring? No complex movements, just stick to what you know.”

So you do, and to your own amazement you do rather well — grip never loosening, you maintain your focus on Acacius the entire time as your blades clash together, dirt whirring up around your feet as you dance around each other. Neither of you back down on your final connection, Acacius grinning at you from behind both blades.

“Should you succeed in this, you shall soon stand high above the rest. Even if they do not know it.”

You both drop your hands, swords by your sides as he stays close. You’re silent as you stare at him blankly, confused by his statement.

“Do you know of any other soldier that has trained by moonlight, alone with me? Those men… those boys, they train because it is their duty. A boy is born to fight. You? Well, it would seem you were born to fight, too.” His voice is soft, his usual curt tone lost to the night breeze. There’s a fond smile on his face, eyes full of admiration as he speaks to you.

“I have often seen you lingering around the arena, I can always spot you in a crowd…” His tongue darts out as his gaze drops to your lips momentarily, before looking into your eyes again. “It is unusual for a girl like you to have such a keen interest in such a… physical activity.”

“Do you think our kind should keep to our traditions? That men should fight and women should care for them?”

“Would I be alone with you under the stars if I thought as much?”

With heat radiating from his body, it takes everything in you not to lean forward into him. His hand brushes over yours as he reaches for your sword, slipping it from your grip to sheath it.

“I think that is enough for tonight. We will keep to this schedule unless I have other commitments — a night of rest, a night of work. There are proceedings at the palace tomorrow, I expect you will be there to witness it?”

“I will, yes.”

Still close to you, he shifts his gaze between your eyes — if you were further apart you might miss the hint of a grin playing on his face.

“It will be quite the sight.” He winks at you and steps back, eyes still locked on yours. “Goodnight, my little rascal.”

You watch as he disappears through the rough, waiting until the only sounds you hear are those from the lapping water and rustling leaves. You lift your tunic hastily, pushing your hand into your subligaculum and down between your legs.

Your problem has only worsened since you properly met Acacius — you relieved yourself after your first training session and last night. Now, however, the wetness has spread to the inside of your thighs, too, the pulsing sensations more intense than usual. You press your fingers into your swollen bud, moving your hand side to side and it doesn’t take long before you come — stretching your free hand out to anchor yourself against a tree, it’s the fiercest feeling you’ve ever experienced.

You hope it won’t take long to fall asleep once you reach town.

It will be quite the sight — you’d tried to decipher what he meant but fell short. It seems that Acacius is rarely untruthful in his words — the events at the palace really were a sight. More specifically, he was a sight.

You had stood in the crowd, not expecting too much excitement, when a broad figure ascending the palace steps caught your eye. Billowing white cape and gold-plated cuffs, when he turned to face the crowds you realised it was him. His usual armour was replaced by, no doubt expensive, white and trimmed in gold, his skirt falling around and between his thick thighs as he climbed.

The grey in his hair and heavy arms accentuated by his new noble appearance, he stood tall and surveyed, hands clasped teasingly in front of his skirt. Just as he told you before, his eyes found you amongst everyone else and stayed on you the entire time, only breaking contact out of courtesy when others spoke with him.

You’ve never been too taken by proceedings like this, always far more keen on the soldiers’ training, but you wonder now if Acacius knows how he infiltrates your thoughts, knows the obscene way your body reacts to them. Why else would he have laid a claim like that?

It was all you could think about the entire day and night, and you think about it now, still, as you try sparring with him. It’s not as simple as the previous time, you find your movements are limited by your tunic, the fabric not as giving as before. You lower your sword and raise your spare hand to stop him, huffing in frustration.

“Is something the matter?”

“It— it is not your problem. I simply need to collect myself. Refocus.” You ready yourself with a defeated sigh but Acacius stands straight.

“Is something. The matter?”

“My tunic, it— I cannot move as I did the other night. As I said, it is not your problem.”

“You can remove it if that would help.”

You stand, bewildered at his comment.

“It is just you and I and the stars. You can remove your tunic if you will spar better without it.”

It seems he isn’t going to continue otherwise, so you place your sword on the ground. He doesn’t turn away from you, either, eyes fixed on you as you look to the floor and reach for your hem. Lifting it up your body and over your head, your skin feels blazing hot under his gaze as you stand nearly bare before him, your mamillare, subligaculum and the dagger secured on your calf your only coverings.

“You are quite the sight, even for a rascal.” You meet his eyes at his words, his gaze hungry. He finally resumes his stance and you retrieve your sword, preparing for the challenge.

The hunger in his eyes only grows stronger the longer you fight, his movements quickening as he advances and forces you backwards. He knocks the sword clean out of your grasp, the blade’s clanking muffled by the earth as he tackles you to the ground, pushing you beneath him and holding you in place.

“It seems your grip is not as secure as you believed…” He pauses as he rakes his eyes over you. “You were quite taken at the palace yesterday, I take it you enjoyed what you saw?”

“It was… quite exhilarating,” you sigh as he shifts, the edge of his breastplate catching on that spot your fingers find all too easily.

“What is wrong, rascal?” You gasp softly as he relaxes, resting almost his full weight on you. You squirm underneath him as you try lifting your hips in search of friction. You notice a change in his eyes and he ticks his jaw.

“Does that feel good?” He punctuates his words by grinding himself into you and holding himself there. “Do you touch yourself?”

“I do not know—” You knock your head back into the ground, pinching your eyes as he grinds his armour into you again. “I do not know what happens, but… it feels good.”

“Have you ever pushed a finger inside of yourself?”

You try turning to the side, his blunt words and forceful movements becoming too much for your uneducated mind.

“You can tell me.”

“I did not know I could do that. Is it not…” you look into his eyes again in search of reassurance, “Is it not shameful, what I do?”

He chuckles at your question, a hint of darkness still in his tone, “My sweet girl, there is nothing shameful about it. Many people pleasure themselves, and others — it is a wonderous thing.”

He lifts himself to push his hand under your subligaculum, fingers circling your bundle of nerves before dragging them through your folds. You feel a different kind of pressure as he repositions his fingers, pushing two inside of you and you cry out, his thick fingers slowly sliding further and further.

Leaning on his elbow, his free hand comes up to caress your cheek and you lean into his touch, heaving and gasping as you get used to the new sensation.

“When do you touch yourself?”

You make no response, your head spinning as that familiar heat that pools in your spine starts growing, only this time it’s far hotter. He grips your jaw, shaking you lightly to get your attention.

“You listen and answer to me. Do not forget that.”

“At night. I… at night.”

“And what makes you seek relief? I can feel how wet you are, my girl — what makes you wet?”

“You.” You moan to the stars as you clench around his fingers, heat coursing through your body as your legs stiffen. That night you came in this very same spot had been the best, but this easily tops it. He pulls his fingers from you as you open your eyes again, and suddenly you feel painfully empty.

“I make you wet?”

“Yes. I think of you when I touch myself. Sometimes I… sometimes I dream of you.”

He kneels back between your legs, manhandling you to push your discarded tunic under your body as he strips off the little clothing you still had on, leaving you completely naked. He smooths his fingers up and down between your legs.

“You are… so sweet, so pure. A girl like you is truly a treasure.”

Sitting up to rest on your elbows, you watch as he pulls his shorts down his thighs, tanned skin peeking through the dark leather of his skirt. He pushes the straps aside, taking his cock in his hand and stroking himself languidly, a twisted smile on his face as you stare, your lips parted in awe.

“Have you seen a man before?”

“Not like this, no. Will it hurt?”

“It may, you are such a delicate girl… but it will certainly be a pleasurable pain.”

He leans over you, cock poking the inside of your thigh as he brings himself close, lips ghosting yours. He grabs your wrist and pulls your hand between your bodies, running your fingers through your sticky folds.

“Do you feel how dripping wet with arousal you are, my girl? Do you feel how much your body craves mine?” He takes your hand, coated in slick and twists it to rub his length against your palm. “Do you feel how much my body craves yours, too?”

You try wrapping your hand around him, fingers splayed wide as you feel how hot his skin is, thick and heavy and hard, just like the rest of his body. He sighs softly as you tighten your grip experimentally.

“Will it… will it fit inside of me?” You look at him, eyebrows knitted in worry. His two fingers alone felt like they filled you completely, you’re not sure how you could possibly take more.

“We will make it fit. A good girl like you will soon learn to take me. You were made for me — your body craves mine, remember?”

You nod lazily as he lays you down and cradles your cheek again, your eyes fluttering closed as he softly presses his lips to your forehead. He drags his cock through your folds, nudging himself just inside your entrance. The stretch stings, your face contorted as you groan, but even with the pain you can feel that fire burning in your belly again. His thumb draws circles into your cheek, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I would hate to think how another man would ruin you. You are so tight, so perfect.” He inches forward, forcing your legs further apart and he looks down to where he breaches you. “I will be the only man to ruin you.”

He thrusts into you, sheathing himself completely as tears trickle down your cheeks and past your ears. He wipes them away with his thumb, peppering your face with kisses.

“My poor, sweet girl. Tell me how it feels.”

“So big…” You whine as you clench around his length, over and over. Through glassy eyes, you can see his devilish grin as he chuckles at your response.

“Only good girls can simply take what they are given like this, you are doing so well.” He pulls your hand between your bodies again, spreading your fingers around where he splits you open. You moan, a new wave of wetness pooling around his cock. “Even in your rebellion, that’s all you want to be, isn’t it? A good girl — always apologetic, always wanting to make me proud.”

He gives you no chance to comment or fully adjust to his size as he pulls out and snaps his hips back into yours. Your tailbone and shoulder blades dig uncomfortably into the hard ground beneath you, rendered defenceless as he pins you down by your shoulders. His gaze flickers up to you, hunger in his eyes turned dark as if he’s starving. He pays little attention to you now as he pistons into you over and over, all sense of care gone as he uses you for his own bliss — and yet, you’re on the verge of release again.

It still burns, being stretched almost unbearably wide, but had you known about these possibilities, you would’ve hunted for this far sooner. His cock drags heavily against your walls, the leather and stitching of his skirt chafing against your thighs, chestplate digging into your lower abdomen and you realise he was right — it is a pleasurable pain.

“Come again for me, my girl. Reach your high again, I know you are close.”

You attempt a response, but your words are incoherent.

“Good girls do as they are told — listen, and I will reward you.”

Your legs tense as you clamp down on him, coating his cock as you come again. You think you hear him grunting, senses overwhelmed by the ringing in your ears, unsure if the stars you see are from the night sky or your own pleasure. You’re still trembling when he pulls out and hovers above you, pumping himself with a tight fist until he spills over your stomach and up between your breasts.

Panting as he comes down, you lie beneath him and your curiosity takes over again — you run your fingers through the milky ropes covering your skin, lifting your hand to watch it web between your fingers. You crane your neck and stick your tongue out to taste it, your eyes on Acacius the whole time.

“My perfect girl…” It comes out barely above a whisper, a crooked smile on his face as he leans down to kiss you properly. He’s strikingly gentle, the scruff of his beard and moustache prickling against your skin, his hand curling to cradle your head. “There is still so much for you to learn, and I am eager to teach you. You are my rascal, after all.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @cafekitsune

#marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius smut #gladiator fanfiction

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