#make me feel those cast bonds

[coldgoldlazarus]

I feel like a boomer saying this but we need to bring back 24-52 episode tv seasons again

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, kidnapped reader, murder of nameless side characters

♡ fem reader

Thinking about that moment of violent change you’re forced to go through when your loving boyfriend becomes the terrifying man you don’t recognize—and how it completely eradicates the reality you’d grown so comfortable in, realizing it was all some perfectly orchestrated lie.

Rope burns on your wrists and ankles, tears streaking your chunky cheeks, and a poor soul’s blood on your pretty face belonging to some guy who’d gotten a little too close for comfort.

He’d cut him down like it was nothing.

The knife is held still by his side, a shining red murder weapon, dripping on the floor in the growing pond by his feet. He sighs heavily, casts his head back then looks behind him, beholding you through slim eyes, clicking his tongue, “Look what you made me do…”

He wouldn’t be the only one… several victims followed in his bloody path—witnesses who’d seen him struggle with you, kicking and screaming for all your worth, trying anything to get away. You were all too easily manhandled into the car, and could only watch behind the locked door, banging with bound fists on the glass while he gutted other passersby who’d threatened to call the police.

Driving off, he growls at you, first to shut up and then, “That was your fault—if only you’d been a good girl, none of those innocent people would have had to die.” His knuckles whiten on the wheel, wringing it in his stained grip—scarlet on ivory. “If you don’t want any more blood on your hands, you better sit pretty and not cause me any more trouble.”

You sob uncontrollably and inconsolably despite the threat—you can’t stop yourself—you can’t even comprehend his words. None of it makes any sense. You’d seen it all, and yet you can’t understand it—any of it. You’d watched the sweet guy you knew shed his skin and become a monster right before your eyes. It must be some bad dream, some terrible, awful, horrible nightmare.

But even if it is, you don’t want him touching you ever again. It makes you physically sick to your stomach to think you’d ever shared a bed with him—exchanged sweet nothings in the damp heat of each other. No, no, no, it’s not the same person—it can’t be. It can’t be true. What about the smiles you’d shared over breakfast, those times you’d surprised each other at lunch, all the dates, all the gifts, all the kisses, the future you’d talked about?

You’d fallen in love. But you’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.

He makes sure the door to the bedroom’s under lock and a key he stores somewhere you won’t find it. You squirm in your bonds on the bed when he approaches, shivering with whimpers under his hands, flinching at his touch while he unties you, then cringing as he angles your face to look at him—wanting to pry free, anything not to look into those changed eyes.

You hadn’t thought his build was imposing before, it hadn’t struck you as lethal. Naively, you’d thought him cozy—a big chest and a warm embrace he would scoop you up in, a safe place you could live. He’s cold now, menacing and filthy from his crimes—the body of a killer, a cold-blooded murderer. He’s so big it makes the room feel too small for the both of you. Claustrophobic.

He forces your gaze to him, and it’s all you see, those eyes, those unrecognizable eyes, with that look within you can’t understand, beholding you with burden.

“I still love you,” he states, though it angers him. “Even though you broke my heart. I still love you.”

You shake your head, or you try to, but it results in only tiny tremors caught in his hand where he keeps your chin, bloody fingers buried in your plump cheeks, squeezing so hard you wince.

“But it doesn’t come for free,” he seethes with an awful sneer. A type of grimace you’d never thought him capable of, overfilled with disdain. “My love is earned. And after all you did today, you’re in deep debt.”

He lets go of your face with a nasty shove, taking a mean grip on your shirt instead, using both fists to tear it down the middle. You yelp and cover yourself, but that only angers him further—causing him to grab your wrists and pin them to your side. You think you feel your joints popping.

“Test me, and I’ll hurt you,” he growls, his teeth bared at your ear where your face curls to hide itself in the pillow. “I don’t want to, but if that’s what it takes to make you sorry, then so be it. Be good, and I won’t have to take it that far.”

You lie as still as you can muster while he removes the rest—roughly as he goes—your bra, your skirt, your underwear. You only snivel and toil with the sheets in weak little fists, making your joints cramp up—feeling raw under him, at the mercy of those blood-dried hands.

You understand what he’s about to do, and yet it doesn’t really dawn on you before you hear the sharp ringing of his belt buckle being undone. You don’t look, but you don’t close your eyes either—the room is already dark enough that closing your eyes would make you feel too close to death. So, you keep your gaze fixed to the side, to the stale wall.

The bed bounces you as he shuffles. The urge to run bubbles within, but you know it wouldn’t be to your advantage. So your mind spins, thinking of other possibilities, growing ever more panicked when coming up empty.

He spits on your slit, then rears it with his spitefully erect shaft—pushing in without further prep. And you lose all sense of control.

Twisting at the attack, you scream again, “No! Stop—”

Your hands barely touch him before he’s answered the protest with a tightening grip on your neck. Unrelenting, your throat instantly snares, and you choke on any further outburst.

“I told you,” he chastises. “Why do you have to force my hand, huh?”

You gasp for any sliver worth of air, sipping through the cracks of his chokehold, but it’s very nearly sealed completely shut. You try lifting his grip with your own, both hands holding onto his wrist, wanting to pull loose but achieving nothing.

It’s so pitiful that he ignores the effort. Using his remaining hand to continue what he’d set out to do. Planting his tip at your unprepped entrance, he wasted no time before surging forward.

Your vision starts to spot, and your hands grow weak, barely hanging on.

“That’s good. Lie still and take it,” he groans—his lips on your cheek as he bullies through your dry walls, only aided by his spit. “And I might consider once’ enough.”  

You don’t have a choice, feeling your body go numb. He picks your thigh up over his hip and drives deeper—starting a steady pace without letting go of your throat, squeezing the life out of you. Your hands finally drop, lying limp, and still, you feel it deep within—the thrusting as he beats your sorry cunt into an aching mess, then fills you up with awful warmth.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Naoya

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[aliteralsemicolon]

Yours - 18+

Masterlist

Spencer never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, but he has. You have all his devotion and all he hopes for in return is for you to let him stay yours.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story contains strong themes and detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Smut: softdom! Spencer, grinding, hickies, penetration, PinV, unprotected sex (this can lead to babies & stds btw, avoid this by being fivehead and using a condom), creampie. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 5.3K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

The question regarding the existence of soulmates is not a question that can be answered using science. Any individual’s answer to the question is more of a personal belief than a factual answer. And as a man of science, one would think that Spencer Reid would at least attempt to refute the ideology when asked. 

The ideology that he himself is not whole, but only half of an intertwined soul. That another person is not only his other half, but also his better half. Somebody with whom he shares such a natural, deep understanding, that he feels complete simply by existing in their presence. It’s one of those phenomena he can’t explain, but only this one, he’s confident is true. 

“Spence?” A light nudge accompanied by the whisper of his name breaks him away from his thoughts.

“Hm?” He blinks rapidly, focusing his eyesight on your curious face with a matching look.

The light from a singular bedside lamp only reaches half of his face. It casts a beautiful, soft contrast on his sharp features. The gold that’s usually hidden by the brown makes his irises look like sparkling pools of honey. Ethereal -not a word you would use when normally describing a man- but that’s how he looks. 

“Do you believe in soulmates?” 

He hadn’t ever thought he could believe in such a thing. Mostly because he’d always been sure that he would never experience it. 

“Do you?” His voice carries your question back to you. 

You can hear the city buzzing outside. Cars honking angrily in a futile attempt to speed up the pace of the traffic. People conversing, arguing, laughing. Loud thuds of music from the upstairs neighbour who cares little about the piling noise complaints. Somehow, the hum of Spencer’s words is the only sound that your ears register. 

“I asked first.” You playfully scoff, breaking eye contact and swivelling your head straight.

Spencer mirrors your motions, both of you now facing the ceiling as you remain side by side on his bed. 

“Yes.” His answer is barely above a whisper. 

It seems that your bodies want to make up for lost contact. You can feel his pinky reaching out to touch yours as you meet him halfway. 

“Me too.” 

A comfortable silence takes over the conversation. Everything feels still. The only movement is that of his fingers grazing against yours. He’s touched you in far more personal places tonight alone, and this is still one of your most intimate moments. There are no expectations or hidden agendas. This is simply the two of you existing in each other's presence; his preferred way to exist. It stretches until another inane question makes its way to the forefront of your mind.

“Do you ever wonder if you’ll get to meet them in this lifetime?” 

He pushes his frame up and rotates to face you as he sinks back down to the mattress. His head rests on the arm folded below it. You turn your head back to him so that you’re both holding eye contact again. 

“No.” He mouths the answer, his voice hesitant to raise at first. “I wonder whether mine is a romantic bond or platonic.” 

Your stomach flutters at the insinuation and you shift to mirror his position this time. In the midst of shuffling, the two of you seem to have closed a good chunk of the distance between you. 

“What do you want it to be?” You whisper, entranced by his gaze. 

Two of his knuckles lightly skim your cheek before those fingers brush your hair away from you. The act alone is enough to make your face heat up, no matter how many times he’s done it before. He begins to lazily stroke your hair, scratching your head in the process. It gives you the same tingling sensation you get from some rare ASMR videos. 

You don’t follow up on your question, unable to remember anything that was on your mind beforehand. His touch, combined with the minimal lighting and close proximity provides you with a sense of security you rarely feel otherwise. Your lids begin to grow heavy and you're forced to break eye contact when the weight of them becomes too much. 

“That’s really distracting y’know.” You mumble, eyes closed and voice hazy. 

“I know.” He mutters, almost without sound. 

He can’t help his smile as he watches you drift to sleep. He’s studied every feature on your face at least a hundred times and he’s yet to find a single flaw. The fact that you’re okay with being this vulnerable with him is a privilege that he’ll thank any and every deity he doesn’t even believe in for. Faint snoring indicates that you’re now dead to the world, but he can’t let your previous question go unanswered. 

“Whichever one allows me to be yours forever.”

Waking up to the warmth of your body pressed against his is by no means a recent development in your relationship with Spencer. Your back is to his chest and his arm is draped across your stomach, trapping you against him. Not that you mind. You’ve been lying still as you are for almost a while now, your thumb caressing the side of his wrist. With a yawn nuzzled into your neck, Spencer attempts to pull you closer to him, closing distance that was never there to begin with. 

He can feel the rise and drop of your chest; you can feel the beating of his heart behind yours. Neither of you is fully awake yet, opting to enjoy the silence and comfort of the other's presence. Your bodies are so closely tangled that your skin is almost melding with each other. 

Almost. 

The unexpected brushing of his hardness against your ass sends a jolt of electricity passing through you, waking you up in an instant. If it were anybody else, perhaps you would’ve felt ashamed of how that passing moment made your insides jump. You definitely wouldn’t have arched your barely clothed cunt towards the obstruction. A sharp exhale fans across the back of your neck, and you can practically feel the corners of his lips pull into a lazy smirk. 

“Well, good morning.” A groggy voice leans into your ear and the grip on your belly tightens.

“Morning.” You breathe out, barely audible.

You feel yourself clench around nothing when a hot, sticky kiss lands just behind your ear. Your arch intensifies when another one lands below your jaw and you unintentionally grind against him. It earns you a low grunt from him, which only prompts you to repeat the motion without thinking. His head drops in the nook of your shoulder, taken slightly off guard. He meets you halfway the third time, and it sets both your hips in a slow motion of rubbing against each other.

He can hear you hum each time his confined erection strokes your bundle of nerves and it sparks a determination in him to get more out of you. His hand trails from your abdomen to your pelvis, stopping just at the band of your underwear. He tugs the fabric, not making any further moves until you allow him to. You know that if you don’t take control now he’s going to prolong his foreplay, something you don’t have the patience for right now. He always makes it a point to make you finish at least once before he even considers himself. 

Out of the four times you came the night before, three of them were with his head between your thighs. You can’t even count the number of times you’ve teased him about how he probably gets off on pleasing you more than you do. You surprise him when you grab his hand and push it away from you, swinging yourself around to straddle him. Your hands land on either side of his head and you lower your forehead to rest against his. 

“Nuh-uh!” You taunt and it makes him snort. 

His palms trace your sides, arms wrapping around you, pulling your torso down to him.

“You’re not allowed to touch me this time.” You add in a hushed tone.

“No?” His brows raise in amusement.

“No.” 

You barely breathe out the word when his arms drop from around you. A slight chill takes over the area.

“No!” You repeat in a whiny tone, pushing yourself to sit up. 

You’re looking down on him from this angle, and God, does he look beautiful. His fluffy, sleep-tousled hair frames his face beautifully, the faint light of the rising sun only adding to the sight. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it!” 

“I don’t know. You need to be clearer with what you want.” He chuckles. 

“I want you to stop being a little shit.” You retort, reaching for his hands.

You attempt to settle them on your thighs, but he removes them again. 

“I’m not allowed to touch you. Remember?” He emphasises the word allowed on purpose.

Both of you know that he’s the only one allowed to touch you and vice versa. Even if it wasn't something you both agreed upon, you’d never let anybody else touch you like him. If they even knew how to.

“You can touch me.” You roll your eyes, pulling his hands back to your skin. “But you can’t fuck me with anything other than your dick.”

Your curt tone doesn’t surprise him. He’s used to your boldness. Using your hips, he pulls you down onto his bulge completely. You don’t anticipate the sudden friction and it takes everything in you to not topple over on him. Spencer wasn’t prepared for the impact of his actions either, his head lolling back as he hisses sharply. 

“Yeah?” He questions through half gritted teeth. 

He’s painfully hard and the current view isn’t helping. He can clearly make out the shape of your curves under your flimsy t-shirt. How it drapes on the apex of your breasts, how the hem pools just above your thighs. His grip tightens against the plush of your skin. 

“Mhm.” You breathe out, eyes fluttering as you keep your core pressed to him. 

“Words, sweet girl. Use your words.” His breathing is laboured and it’s taking all of his willpower to not rut his dick back up against you.

The praise breaks you. You can no longer hold yourself up, falling into his chest. 

“Please fuck me.” You can only whisper in his ear, sending chills down his spine. 

He groans, grabbing you by the waist and flipping both of you around so you’re the one lying on the bed. It seems that he’s become just as impatient as you, if not more. He captures your lips in a deep, demanding kiss as he tugs his boxers just enough for his length to spring free. His tongue swipes your lips, seeking entrance and you grant it to him. He finds your kisses addicting. It takes an incredible amount of willpower to break them, but he does, sitting up on his knees. 

He parts your legs, placing one on either side of him and yanking you closer to him. You squeak in response, not processing the action until your cores are once again pressed together. You sigh when he pushes your panties to the side and runs a finger up your slit. A satisfied hum escapes him when he learns just how aroused you are. You sigh when runs his tip against you next, lining himself up with your cunt and pushing just the tip inside. Each of his hands intertwine with yours as he moves them above your head. He then leans in and plants a feather-light kiss on your cheek. 

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear.

He pushes in a little more and pulls out just enough for him to stay lined.

“More!” You whine, breathlessly, brows furrowing from anticipation.

“Mhm.” He doesn’t properly acknowledge your desperation and instead latches onto the skin under your jaw, sucking gently. 

You sigh at the sensation, arching more as his shaft pushes in again. This time, he doesn’t stop until he’s completely bottomed out. You moan and squeeze his hands, still intertwined with yours above your head. You never expect how full he makes you feel. Spencer squeezes your hands in return, still reeling in from how well your cunt accommodates him. He takes a minute, resting himself inside you to allow time for both of you to adjust to the feeling. 

He releases your skin with a small pop and moves a new spot on your neck. You think about how you’re going to have to use concealer to hide the marks he’s surely leaving behind and it makes you clench around him. The effect on him is instantaneous, a harsh groan vibrating against your throat and he sucks harder. The sound only makes your walls tighten more and it cues him to start thrusting. 

The initial pace is slow, but calculated; the kind that makes your joints loosen and jaw slack. He takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another long and consuming kiss. A loud moan ripples out from both of you and your hands deepen their hold on each other. Spencer’s not shy about letting you hear how good you make him feel and that drives you insane. 

Your hands instinctively try to reach for his hair, but he’s pinned you down tight. You whine into his mouth, pressing your fingers between his knuckles. Your whine fizzles out into a series of smaller whines when his hips speed up, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust. 

“Mm–Spence–mmph–”

You try to break the kiss to speak, but he simply drops a quick kiss on your jaw before reclaiming his place against your lips. He’s too lost in the taste of you to pay full attention. It takes you a moment to find the willingness to try again, but you do. You arch your hips too high for him to be able to follow from this position, forcing him to slip out from you and try to remove your hands from his grip. His focus is brought back to you and he lifts himself back on his knees, releasing you. 

“What’s wrong? Have I hurt you?” 

“M-mm” You shake your head and push yourself up on your hands.

You then shift into his lap, draping your arms around his shoulders. He gives you a curious look, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I want to be able to hold you.” You admit with a slight shyness in your tone.

A light smile spreads across his face, brows arching in surprise. Being a genius and all, he’s always known he was needed in some way or another. You’re the first person who’s ever made him feel wanted, truly wanted. With no motive other than simply existing with him. It sparks a new desire, one you see light up behind his eyes. He leans into your lips, his hold on your waist tightening and he moves one arm to cradle the back of your head. 

You pull yourself flush against him, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongues dance together once more. He lifts you up and places you back down against the mattress, mouth never leaving yours. You feel his palm raise one of your legs by the back of your knee and he’s entering you again. He rests that leg on his shoulder, while the other hangs by his waist and begins to build an unrelenting pace. 

You wail into his mouth at the intensity of his thrusts, eyes rolling behind closed eyes. It’s almost brutal, the way he’s slamming into you. Your hands desperately cling onto his bicep and shoulder, nails digging into the skin. His grunts and groans increase each time he gets deeper, if that’s even physically possible and it only makes you desperate for more. Your kiss breaks with a slight sting against Spencer’s lip. You didn’t realise how hard you were biting it in an attempt to stay grounded. 

There’s a shift in the atmosphere that you can’t explain. Even though Spencer was railing you so hard that even the bed had begun to cry out, there was an overwhelming sense of longing between you two. An ache to express how you belong to the other, hidden behind an uncouth sight. It’s compensation for those lack of words, a physical exchange expressing your biggest secret. He’s everywhere; your current position has you feeling Spencer in places you didn’t deem possible. 

His mouth works over whatever exposed skin it can access along your jaw and throat, leaving goosebumps and bruising stains in its wake. His cock is driving into you so fast that you swear it’s going to imprint on your walls. There’s a fire in you, one that only he can put out. Every inch of him can be felt within every inch of you. Now you’re truly melded with each other. 

“Fuck–oh my God!” You scream out, your nails digging harder into his flesh. 

He’s consuming all of your senses, at this moment you don’t know anything other than him. Eyes open or closed, all you can see is his sculpted face. You’re drowning in his scent. Melting at his touch. The taste of his kiss still lingers on your tongue. Your ears are flooded with the slaps of his skin meeting yours and your mixed moans and grunts. 

“Spen–fuck–gon–fu–cum!” 

He hasn’t even spared your ability to speak. With a short kiss, he brings his forehead back to rest on yours in a firm manner. 

“Me too, pretty girl.” He pants his sentence in broken pauses. “Me too.” 

He secures the leg on his shoulder from the back of your thigh and then brings the other leg on his other shoulder. It gives him room to drive himself deeper and makes you lose all control, every joint in your body threatening to fall limp. Your face contorts and you bite your lip, trying to control the flurry of screams. It results in high-pitched whines forcing their way out. 

“Spencer! I can’t–I can’t–I can’t” 

You can’t hold on any longer. 

“I know. I know.” There’s barely any voice accompanying his words. “We’ll do it together, okay? Where do you want me?”

“Inside–inside–ins-shitshitshit…” 

“Inside? Inside.” He struggles to keep himself together while talking you through it. “Ready?” 

You nod fervently and he steals one long, final kiss from you as he finally empties himself in your spent cunt. Your own orgasm crashes through in a long passing wave. You feel like you’re floating in the ocean with millions of stars as your only view for miles. He follows up with a few final thrusts, burying himself as far in you as possible. 

When you finally come to, Spencer’s pulled out and is lying right next to you. Peppering kisses over your face in intervals and muttering praises as strokes away hair glued to your face. 

“Did so well.”

“So good to me.”

“I’m so proud of you.”

For some reason, the water always feels nicer running down your body when you use Spencer’s shower. He’s a simple man; he doesn’t really have a lot of products to use besides the basic shampoo, conditioner, soap, and body wash. The exfoliators, masks and such were your initial additions that he keeps topping up after they run out. 

You haven’t said much since coming out of your euphoric state, only showing your gratitude and appreciation through small touches. Brushing a hand against his cheek, leaving a peck on his shoulder, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He doesn’t mind your silence. It doesn’t deter him from showering you with praise while he looks after you. You’re so disorientated that you’re letting yourself be guided from one instruction to the next. 

“Lift your leg for me, sweet girl. Hand on my shoulder.” 

He helps you act out his command, grabbing your wrist and draping it on his shoulder while helping you lift your leg. His touch is tender, but he’s careful to cover every area with body wash. 

“Good girl.” 

You don’t physically react, but his approval makes you swell with pride. Sex is the least intimate part of your time with Spencer. What you really enjoy is how safe he makes you feel. You know that even if you show him your worst and ugliest moments, he won’t reject you. You trust him with parts of you that you barely trust yourself with. 

Anybody who’s touched your naked body before him doesn’t matter, because not one of them has gotten to touch it past the realm of physical pleasure. To you, the act of washing one’s body is so private, so sacred that it can’t be trusted with just anybody. How many are able to look past the lens of sexual release and view your skin and bones as something to cherish? Not even you can claim to view yourself in such a precious way. 

But Spencer does. 

Even as pats you dry and wraps you safely in a warm towel, he doesn’t demean your worth. They’d be thoughts he could easily keep hidden in the comfort of his own mind, but the thoughts simply don’t occur. You don’t realise how long the two of you are standing there, leaning into each other's arms against the counter. Nor do you realise how long it’s taken you to mentally return to him. The first thing you do notice is so trivial, it’s almost laughable. 

“You’re out of apple juice, by the way.” 

Even you’d laugh if you heard yourself bring up something so random.

“Do you want apple juice? We can go buy some more.” He replies in a quiet mumble.

In his presence, you can think such thoughts without the concern of being laughed at. 

“No, I’m not gonna make you go to the grocery store just for apple juice.” You shake your head, expression oozing sarcasm. 

“I need to buy a lot more than apple juice. I’m pretty sure I don’t even have enough to make eggs or coffee.” He snorts, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Right. I forgot, Mister F.B.I.” You snort back, playfully poking his arm. “How was your time in Alaska?” 

It’s really common for your brain to malfunction around Spencer. You don’t feel the need to think or stay on alert if he’s with you. 

“Grim. Bleak.” He keeps it short on purpose. 

He doesn’t want to taint what little time he has with you focused on the gory parts of his job. Or any parts of his job at all. He spends too much of his time there as it is, so he’d much prefer to keep that part of his life separate from you. Spencer didn’t understand what it truly meant to live until after you came into his life. He’d never admit it out loud, but being around you made him realise how much of his soul his job steals from him, piece by piece. You make it whole again.

“How bad was it?” Curiosity still gets the better of you at times.

“Awful. You weren’t there when I woke up every morning.” He steers the conversation again. 

“Uh-huh.” You smirk, looking up at him. “You say that to all your girl-friends the morning after?” 

He takes a small step back, creating space as he cups your face.

“Even if I had the social skills required, when do you honestly think I would have the time between being at work and being with you?” 

“When you’re at work. Duh.” You tap his temple, playfully, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He scoffs, unamused. It’s something Spencer can’t honestly even imagine. You’re his solace, his best friend…his person. 

“Get dressed.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll stop by that bakery you love and get some food in your system. Hopefully before your suggestions start becoming more and more insane.” 

You don’t appreciate the awestruck look on his face when you’re certain you’ve got chocolate lining the corners of your mouth. You attempt to glare at him, but it doesn’t last and you find yourself fighting back a smile.

“Cut it out!” You groan, stringing out the end of your sentence. 

The trolley comes to a halt as you stop to grab your phone, but he snatches it out of your hand before you can open the camera.

“Hey–”

“I’m revoking your phone privileges until your urge to keep checking your reflection fizzles out.” He states casually, slipping the phone into his pocket as he reaches for a loaf of bread on the top shelf. 

“Revoking my– what are you my fucking mother?” You reach for his pocket, but he grabs your wrist before you can retrieve your phone. 

You try to use your free arm, but he traps that one in his hands too. 

“I don’t wanna walk around with chocolate around my mouth!” You whisper-shout, mindful of other shoppers passing by.

“For the fifth time, you don’t have chocolate anywhere on your face. It wasn’t there after you finished your shake and it won’t be there no matter how many times you check.”

You ignore him, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“You don’t believe me?” The look on his face is more entertained than shocked.

“Spencer, my fluffy-headed, genius bookworm, I would put my life in your hands if you asked me to but after that time you let me walk around with my lipstick smudged–”

“That happened one time!” He gripes, less concerned about his volume. 

“I looked like I came straight off the clock from a circus!” 

“It wasn’t that bad!” 

“Six hours, you let me walk around like that!” 

If he were to be completely honest, he was completely enraptured by your long tangent about why you despise dolphins. Most of it wasn’t based on facts and the parts that were, weren’t really a feasible argument since morals are a uniquely human concept. However, that was the day he uncovered how brightly you light up when you talk about something you’re passionate about. He spent the rest of that time, subtly digging, trying to figure out the topics that made you glow so he could keep bringing them up. 

“There’s nothing there. Your face is– looks perfect.” He fumbles on his words.

“I can feel it!” You protest.

“That happens because–”

“Reid?” An unfamiliar voice calls out from behind you.

Spencer lets go of your wrists as you turn to face the owner of the voice. Two blondes, one behind the other. One of them is a lot more colourful and bold, with large statement jewelry and a pair of gorgeous platform heels that match her dress. The other is less vibrant, but with no less confidence and blue eyes that stand out like diamonds shining under lights. 

“Hey! What are you guys doing here?” 

You’re not a profiler, but you don’t miss the immediate shift in Spencer’s demeanour. He seems a lot more reserved and shy, as compared to the confidant and playful version of him that you know. 

“We’re picking up some things for my birthday bash this weekend.” The brown-eyed blonde chirps. “The one that I will definitely see you at, no excuses allowed!” 

“Right.” He gives an awkward, tight-lipped smile. 

Spencer loves his coworkers, he really does. They’re basically his family. However, he wants nothing more for them to go away right now. Not for any reason other than wanting to keep you away from them, because he knows them. For all their amazing qualities, there’s one that annoys him the most and that’s how nosey they can be. Especially when it comes to him. 

“Hi. I’m JJ.” The blue-eyed blonde takes the initiative to introduce herself, reaching out her hand for a friendly shake.

He knows it’s from a place of love. He’s the youngest member of the team, they all want to protect him, but he detests how they coddle him. He can already sense the incoming invitation from Garcia to her birthday. He knows that it won’t take long for you to befriend everyone on his team, because, well, they’re all amazing people. Integrating you with that part of his life is something he’s just not ready for. Not like this.

“I’m Penelope and oh my goodness, you are just gorgeous!” 

He enjoys how when he’s with you, he can exist in a separate bubble. Where all he is, is not the resident genius of the BAU. More than that, he knows of the dangers that come with integrating the two separate lives. He’s seen the losses that occur, whether they be by generic circumstances or unplanned deaths. And there’s nothing he can do to stop his worlds colliding, a fact he has to grasp as soon as he zones back in to find three sets of eyes staring at him, expectantly.  

“Right.” He clears his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “These are my– um– this is Penelope Garcia and Jennifer Jareau, or JJ. We work together.” 

The introduction is hesitant and rushed at best, but you chalk it up to him being taken off guard. You want to gauge his mood, try and figure out where his head’s at, but that’s going to have to wait. 

“Oh my God! I knew it!” Garcia gasps dramatically, taking your hand in hers. “You’re the reason he’s always in a rush to leave now! It is so nice to meet you!”

Garcia’s not wrong. You are the reason he’s always in a rush to get away. You’re his escape from the harsh realities he faces every day. You’re unsure of how to respond. In fact, you’re not even certain as to what’s going on. Nobody else seems to match Penelope's enthusiasm. Spencer looks mortified, while JJ looks like she wants to drag Penelope away. Still, everybody’s too frozen to stop her. 

“Did you know that you have him checking his phone more than a lovestruck teenage girl? Him! One of the biggest technophobes I’ve ever met!”

This is also a fact. Spencer’s not an idiot. He’s not oblivious to the open-mouthed stares he gets every time he’s caught smiling like a dopey idiot after looking at the screen. He’s just never cared. It’s almost impossible to ignore any notification from you. He doesn’t feel great about that coming to bite him in the ass right about now. 

Given different circumstances that were more in his control, Spencer would be elated to introduce the most important people in his life to each other. This whole interaction is actually shorter than he feels it is, but for Spencer, time moves too slowly. He can sense how the safety of your company as he knows it, the most valuable aspect of his life, is under threat of being ripped away from him with every second that passes. Without you, Spencer would once again find himself lost. 

“Spencer, you have to bring her to my bash this weekend! Everybody would love to meet your girlfriend!” Garcia wiggles her eyebrows, eyes smirking beneath her glasses.

Because all he is, is yours. 

“Oh! Uhm–” You begin.

“No Garcia, she’s–this is…my friend..” He adds at the same time, unable to hide his stutter.

At least, that’s all he wants to be.

“Right…we’re just…friends.” You confirm with a half-hearted smile at the reminder of your reality. 

It was better this way. The two of you agreed on this at the start of your arrangement. 

Spoilers: Mostly just fluff, a sprinkle of angst, smut, lots of mutual pining, friends with benefits.

AN - I felt a surge of evil take over my bones when I wrote this and any events that unfolded were out of my control. This is not my finest work, but once I thought of it I had to share it. Also I know I said not to bother me about fics bc uni and I still mean that, I just don’t know what happened. It’s like I got a bit of inspo and couldn’t help myself. Huge thanks to @mrs-dr-reid for beta reading! FWB Writing Challenge by @imagining-in-the-margins Prompt - "I wanna be yours" by Arctic Monkeys

No bc writing that opening scene on the bed might be my favourite and u should tell me if u agree bc I wanna write more like that, but if u hate it then I won't.

Thanks for reading.

[a-mythologynerd]

Upon thought and reflection. Wow. Am I seriously disappointed. But like in the I can’t stop laughing about how bad that was way. Welp. I’m just gonna go reread the books.

[misswynters]

Winter’s Embrace — Chapter Two

Cregan Stark x targaryen!fem!reader

[warning: suggestive, cregan pinning the reader to the bed

[synopsis: You spend time with your husband, cregan. There’s a big snow storm happening outside, and you get caught in the middle.

[word count: 3.0k

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

previous chapter | next chapter

Winterfell had never seemed so bleak. The walls, which were normally a sanctuary, felt like a prison with the storm raging outside. Snow fell like thick sheets, obscuring everything beyond the castle's stone walls. The wind howled like a wild beast, its icy breath seeping through every crack and crevice, chilling you to the bone.

Cregan Stark, the Warden of the North, stood by a window, his silhouette stark against the swirling snow outside. His presence was as commanding as ever, even with the tempest raging behind him. His grey eyes, the color of storm clouds, were fixed on the blizzard, a deep frown etched into his features.

"It's worse than I expected," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to resonate through the very walls of Winterfell. "We might be stuck here for days."

You pulled your cloak tighter around yourself, feeling the cold despite the fire. "At least we're safe inside," you replied, stepping closer to the hearth. The warmth was a welcome reprieve from the chill that seemed to permeate everything.

Cregan turned to face you, his gaze softening as it settled on your form. "Are you alright? You seem... uneasy."

You met his eyes, feeling a jolt of something you couldn't quite name. There was a strength in his gaze, a reassurance that made you feel safer despite the storm. "I'm just not used to storms like this," you admitted. "It's... overwhelming."

He moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. The contact was electric, sending warmth coursing through you. "Winterfell can be a harsh place," he said softly. "But you're not alone."

The intimacy of the moment caught you off guard. You had always admired Cregan from afar, his strength and stoic nature a constant presence in the Stark household. But now, with the storm raging outside and the world reduced to the confines of Winterfell, you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn't anticipated.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire.

Cregan's hand lingered on your arm for a moment longer before he stepped back, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "Come, let's check on the supplies. We need to make sure everyone is taken care of."

You followed him through the dimly lit halls of Winterfell, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the stone walls. The storm outside seemed distant now, the only sounds the echo of your footsteps and the occasional gust of wind rattling the windows.

As you worked together, checking the stores of food and ensuring the fires in the various hearths were well-fed, you found yourself stealing glances at Cregan. There was a gentleness to him you hadn't seen before, a side that he rarely showed to others. And in those moments, you felt a connection growing, a bond forged in the midst of the storm.

By the time you returned to the Great Hall, the storm had intensified, the wind howling like a wild beast. Cregan stoked the fire, adding another log to the flames, and you both settled down in front of the hearth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the cold outside.

"It's almost beautiful, in a way," you mused, staring into the dancing flames.

Cregan nodded, his gaze fixed on the fire. "Aye, there's a certain beauty to it. But it's also dangerous. We have to respect its power."

You turned to him, finding his eyes already on you. The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. "Cregan, I..."

He leaned closer, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. "Shh," he murmured. "No need for words."

The kiss that followed was like nothing you had ever experienced. It was tender and passionate, a release of all the emotions that had been building between you. The storm outside raged on, but in that moment, all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace, the taste of his lips, and the beating of his heart against yours. The fire crackled and popped, casting a warm, golden glow that danced across the stone walls. You and Cregan remained by the hearth, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth and intimacy.

Cregan's hand traced a path down your arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "I've wanted to do that for a long time," he admitted, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine.

You looked up at him, your breath hitching at the intensity of his gaze. "So have I," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I didn't think you felt the same."

His lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. "I've always felt it. I just... thought you didn’t like being betrothed to me."

You reached up, your fingers lightly brushing his cheek. "No…i was just scared. Everything here is new to me."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. When he opened them again, there was a fire in his gaze that matched the one burning in the hearth. "Come with me," he said, his voice husky with emotion.

You nodded, allowing him to take your hand and lead you through the dimly lit halls of Winterfell. The storm outside was a constant reminder of the world beyond, but here, within these ancient walls, you felt safe and cherished.

Cregan led you to his chambers, a place you had only ever seen in passing. The room was warm, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. It was a reflection of its owner—strong, steadfast, and filled with a quiet intensity.

He closed the door behind you, the sound echoing in the quiet room. For a moment, you both stood there, the silence filled with unspoken words and a palpable tension. Then, Cregan stepped forward, his hands gently cradling your face as he kissed you again, this time with a hunger that took your breath away.

You melted into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. The kiss deepened, a fire igniting between you that rivaled the one in the hearth.

The dim light of the hearth cast a warm, flickering glow across the stone walls of Cregan Stark's chambers. The winter chill was kept at bay by the roaring fire, but inside, a different kind of heat was building. Cregan's piercing eyes locked onto yours, and without a word, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

His hands found your waist, strong and sure, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, your fingers threading through his dark hair, tugging slightly as you tried to bring him even closer. His breath was hot against your lips, mingling with yours in a shared rhythm of desire and need.

Cregan's hands began to roam, exploring the curve of your waist and the small of your back. He lifted you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the kiss. You could feel the strength in his arms, the controlled power that always made you feel safe and desired.

As your back met the soft mattress, Cregan's body pressed against yours, his weight a comforting presence. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down with you, desperate to keep him close. His lips left yours, trailing a line of fire down your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck.

You arched beneath him, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your skin, followed by the soothing touch of his tongue. He was relentless, each kiss, each touch, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on.

Cregan's kisses grew more fervent, his mouth exploring the hollow of your throat, the curve of your collarbone. His hands moved with purpose, one sliding up to cup your face while the other held your hip, anchoring you to the bed. His body pressed you further into the mattress, and you welcomed the weight, the feeling of being completely enveloped by him.

He paused for a moment, lifting his head to look at you. His eyes were dark with desire, a smoldering intensity that made your heart race. "You are mine," he murmured, his voice husky and low. The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you nodded, your breath coming in shallow pants.

"Hmm…I am yours" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the crackling fire. The words seemed to ignite something in him, and he captured your lips once more in a kiss that was both fierce and tender.

His hands began to roam again, tracing the contours of your body, memorizing every curve and dip. He kissed his way down your neck, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild.

Each touch was electrifying, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your hands found their way under his tunic, exploring the hard planes of his back, feeling the muscles bunch and flex under your touch. He groaned into your neck, the sound vibrating through you, adding to the heady mix of sensations.

Cregan's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, followed by the soothing caress of his tongue. He knew exactly how to drive you to the edge, and he was relentless in his pursuit. You were lost in him, in the feel of his lips, his hands, his body. With a growl of need, he claimed your mouth once more, his kiss demanding and consuming. You gave yourself over to him completely, reveling in the intensity of his passion, the depth of his desire. As he pressed you further into the mattress, you could feel him getting hard. You knew that this night would be one you would never forget, a night where he showed you just how much he loved you.

⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫   ˑ

The next morning, the storm still showed no signs of abating. Snow piled high against the windows, and the wind continued to howl like a restless spirit. But the fire in Cregan's chambers kept the cold at bay, and the warmth of his embrace made you feel invincible.

You woke to find Cregan watching you, his grey eyes soft and filled with something you couldn't quite name. "Good morning," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"Good morning," you replied, smiling up at him. "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Better than I have in a long time," he admitted. "With you here... it feels right."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his cheek. "It does," you agreed, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I feel the same way."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. "I'm glad," he murmured. "Because I don't want this to be a one-time thing. I want... more."

You could hear the vulnerability in his voice, and it made you love him all the more. "So do I," you said softly. "I want to be with you, Cregan. Not just for now, but for always."

His eyes opened, a spark of hope and determination in their depths. "Then that's what we'll do," he said firmly. "We'll make this work. No matter what."

Hours passed by and what followed were a blur of snow and cold, but the warmth between you and Cregan never wavered.

Later that evening, as you sat together by the fire, Cregan took your hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "I want to show you something," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity.

You looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

He stood, pulling you to your feet and leading you through the halls of Winterfell. The castle was quiet, the only sound the soft crunch of your footsteps on the stone floor.

He led you to a secluded part of the castle, a place you had never been before. It was a small garden, sheltered from the worst of the storm by high walls and ancient trees. The snow lay thick on the ground, sparkling in the moonlight.

Cregan turned to you, his eyes reflecting the light of the moon and stars. "This place... it's special to me," he said softly. "It's where I come to think, to find peace."

You looked around, taking in the serene beauty of the garden. "It's beautiful," you said, your breath misting in the cold air. "Thank you for showing me."

He smiled, his hand tightening around yours. "I wanted you to see it," he said. "Because you're special to me too. More than anyone or anything."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you stepped closer, your free hand resting on his chest. "And you mean everything to me, Cregan," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "I love you."

His eyes softened, and he leaned down to kiss you, a slow, tender kiss that spoke of all the love and devotion he felt for you. "I love you too," he murmured against your lips. "More than I can ever say."

You stayed in the garden for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside forgotten. The storm had brought you together, and now, as the snow gently fell around you, you knew that nothing could ever tear you apart.

⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗   ִ  ۫   ˑ

That night, as the snowstorm outside intensified, you found yourself alone in the library, seeking solace among the ancient tomes. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the stone walls. You had just settled into a chair with a book when the door creaked open.

Cregan Stark stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked surprised to see you there but quickly masked it with his usual stoicism.

“My dear,” he greeted, his voice softer than usual. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

You offered a small smile, trying to hide your nerves. “I find comfort in books, my lord. They offer an escape from reality when the weather gets horrible.”

He nodded, his eyes studying you intently. “Winterfell can be overwhelming, especially in the winter months. If you ever need anything to keep you warm, do not hesitate to ask.” He winked at you with a small smile.

Before you could respond, a sudden gust of wind howled through the hallways, rattling the windows and extinguishing the fire. The room plunged into darkness, save for the faint glow of the embers.

Cregan moved closer, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “Stay close. The storm is worse than I thought. We need to find shelter.”

As you followed him through the dimly lit corridors, the howling wind seemed to grow louder, echoing through the stone walls. The castle felt like a labyrinth, and you struggled to keep up with Cregan’s long strides.

Just as you reached a narrow stairway, a deafening crash resonated from above. The ceiling groaned under the weight of the snow, and you felt a sense of impending danger.

Cregan turned to you, his expression grim. “We need to hurry. Follow me.”

But before you could take another step, the ground beneath you shook, and a section of the ceiling began to collapse. The last thing you saw was Cregan’s outstretched hand, reaching for you as the darkness consumed everything.

© misswynters ‘24 - don’t modify or steal my writings

tag list: @beebeechaos @benjicotblckwood

[nhlclover]

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

summary: this slope is treacherous, this path is reckless. this slope is treacherous and you like it.

warnings: loosely based on 'treacherous' by taylor swift, childhood friends to lovers, heated make out, luke & reader being awkward a little bit, appearances from jack, quinn, mark, and ethan

word count: 5.06k

notes: literally the longest thing i've ever written omg but i hope you guys enjoy!!

The summer sun blazed down on the lake house, casting bright rays onto the water and the worn-down wooden dock, where you and Luke sat side by side, your fingers inches apart but never touching. The shimmering lake stretched out before you, a mirror reflecting the clear blue sky and the occasional ripple from a passing boat. It was the familiar scene of your summers, but this summer felt different — more charged, more intense.

You and Luke had always been inseparable since childhood. The backyard games, the bike races down the hill, the late-night chats under the stars—those moments had forged a bond that felt unbreakable. But beneath the surface of that easy camaraderie, there had always been something more—a secret, unspoken longing that neither of you had dared to voice. As you both grew older, the simple crushes you had harboured blossomed into something more profound, but you both chose to keep those feelings hidden, afraid of ruining the one relationship that had always been your rock.

This summer, as you and Luke reunited at the lake house, the tension between you was palpable. The familiar comfort of your shared experiences was now tinged with a new, almost unbearable intensity. Every look you exchanged seemed to linger longer than usual, every touch felt more significant. The boundary between friendship and something more had become increasingly blurred, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

One morning, as you were in the kitchen making breakfast, Luke appeared in the doorway. His presence was as familiar as the morning sun, but today, there was something different in his eyes—an earnestness that made your heart race.

“Hey, wanna go on a boat ride with me?” he asked, his voice casual but with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place.

You glanced up from your toast, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, sure,” you replied, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you finished buttering your piece of toast. “Quinn and Jack coming?”

“No, no,” he said shaking his head, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Just me ‘n you.”

The simplicity of his offer was almost too loaded to process. You could feel the heat of the sun on your skin and the way the space between you seemed to shrink. You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

“Y-yeah sounds good,” you say. “Just let me finish breakfast and then I’ll go get ready.”

“Of course, take your time,” Luke said, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned and left the kitchen. You finished your breakfast in a daze, your mind racing with thoughts about the boat ride.

After breakfast, you quickly changed into your swimsuit, grabbing a hoodie from the pile of clothing that accumulated on the armchair in the corner of your room. You examined it quickly, realizing it was one of Luke’s Michigan hoodies that you had borrowed earlier in the week during a bonfire.

You found Luke waiting at the dock, the boat bobbing gently in the water. “Ready?” he asked, his voice steady as he helped you onto the boat.

“Yeah,” you replied, settling into one of the seats. The boat ride started out in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the hum of the engine and the lapping of water against the hull. As the boat moved further out onto the lake, Luke kept glancing at you, his eyes flicking from the water to your face as if he were trying to gauge your mood.

It wasn’t until you approached the tiny, rocky island, that you realized where Luke was taking you. It was the small island you’d found when just after Luke had gotten his boater’s licence. It had become your own little private oasis that the two of you would visit just to relax, using the privacy of the space to talk about whatever had been bothering you or whatever was on your mind.

Luke put the boat in neutral, allowing it to slowly float up to the rocky shore. He hopped out, steadying it before the bottom would scrape, then turned to you. "Hand me the anchor."

You obliged, tossing the towels to him first, then reaching for the small anchor. As you handed it over, Luke teased, “Not too heavy for you?”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades. “It’s like 13 pounds, Luke. Fuck off.”

He snorted, taking it from your hands and lodging it on a nearby rock. “Here, take my hand so you don’t fall on your face.” Luke said, extending his hand to help you down onto the shore.

You rolled your eyes at his comment, though Luke couldn’t see that behind your shades. You grabbed his hand, feeling the heat of the sun still clinging to his skin. As you hopped down, your foot slipped on the wet surface, and for a split second, you thought you were about to fall face-first into the water.

But Luke’s grip tightened, his other hand reaching out to catch you by the waist, steadying you before you could stumble any further. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he murmured, his voice soft, yet steady.

Your heart skipped a beat, and as you stood there for a moment, pressed against him, you could feel the tension thick between you. “Thanks,” you breathed out, stepping back once you found your balance, though the warmth of his hand lingered.

You moved to the towels Luke had tossed onto the sun-warmed rocks moments ago, straightening one out and lying on it, putting your arm over your eyes. Luke lingered by the boat a moment longer, watching you, his heart still pounding. He took a deep breath and sat beside you, staring out at the water, wondering how much longer he could pretend nothing had changed.

You sat in silence, the birds cawing in the air and the splashing water providing a nice background noise. Luke glanced over at your body lying just a foot away from him, your tanned skin glistening under the beating Michigan sun. Luke couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt dirty for staring at you like this; staring at your chest that was just barely covered by a teal bikini, rising and falling rhythmically as you breathed. Your stack of gold necklaces rested on your clavicle and Luke couldn’t fight off the thoughts about marking your collarbone with lovebites.

“I missed this,” you said suddenly, Luke snapping his head forward to focus on the water that lapped steadily against the shore.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake the heat that consumed him — not just from the sun, but from the way his mind was racing. “Missed what?”

“This,” you replied with a soft smile, lifting a hand to gesture around. “The lake, the sun, the quiet… just being here. It feels like nothing else matters for a while, you know?”

Luke let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He dared to glance over at you again, this time his eyes landing on your head — your eyes were still covered by your arm, but he had the perfect view of your plump lips, as well as the way the sunlight caught in your hair, making it shine like it was woven with gold.

Luke shifted uncomfortably, forcing his eyes to the water once again, trying to ignore the fire burning inside him. He wanted to say something — anything — to break the silence, but his mind was a mess, tangled with everything he’d been holding back for so long.

“I get that,” he finally managed, his voice quiet. “Feels like… everything else just disappears out here.”

You nodded, still lying back with your arm draped over your eyes. “Yeah, exactly. No distractions. Just us.”

The simplicity of your words hit him harder than he expected. “Just us.” Luke bit the inside of his cheek, knowing full well how dangerous those two words felt right now. He was suddenly acutely aware of how close you were — the soft rise and fall of your chest, the small space between your bodies.

You sat up, stretching your arms over your head, the movement catching Luke’s attention again. You glanced at him, your eyes hidden behind sunglasses but the tension was palpable. “You okay?”

Luke nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?” You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

Luke’s eyes involuntarily traced your face, landing on your lips a moment longer. Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with something unspoken but very real. “Yeah… really good.”

And just like that, the distance between you vanished.

It happened fast, almost like you both decided at the same moment. One second you were staring at him, heart racing, and the next his lips were on yours, the kiss electric and urgent. You didn’t know who moved first, and you didn’t care.

All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your lips moved together. Your hands found Luke’s curls, tugging on them slightly which elicited a groan from him. You moved onto his lap, no longer oblivious to the physical toll you had taken on Luke. His hands hesitated at first, but then they slid down your sides, his touch searing. He traced down your ribcage, onto your waist, then finally settled on your ass.

The kiss deepened, both of you getting lost in the moment as the years of pent-up tension finally released in waves. You tugged on his roots, causing him to squeeze your ass tightly, a low grumbling coming from his throat. Your fingers untangled from his brown locks, tracing down Luke’s shoulders and onto his torso, feeling the curves of his abs under your fingertips. Luke shivered beneath you despite the burning sun that shone down.

You finally pulled back, the both of you gasping for air, your chests rising and falling rapidly. Your gaze dropped to his slightly swollen lips, then to his bare chest glistening in the sunlight. The intensity of the moment suddenly caught up to you — his hands still gripping your ass, his body warm and hard beneath yours. You realized the position you were in, straddling him, looking dishevelled as one of your bikini straps had slipped down your shoulder, exposing a deep tan line.

Luke’s eyes followed the movement, his pupils blown wide as he swallowed hard. The weight of everything you two had held back over the years came crashing down on him. His grip on your waist loosened, his hands hovering as he was unsure of what to do next. You felt the tension in the air shift, both of you realizing you’d crossed a line that you couldn’t un-cross, no matter how badly the two of you have wanted to all along.

“Oh, God,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you pulled back slightly. “What did we just do?”

Luke ran a hand through his hair, looking as freaked out as you felt. His cheeks were flushed, though you couldn’t tell if it was from the kiss or the heat. “I don’t know. I—” He looked down, then back at you. “Does this change everything?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your mind racing with all the implications of what just happened. “I…we should head back.”

You swung your leg back over Luke, standing up and quickly walking back towards the boat. You grabbed your hoodie and threw it on despite the heat, feeling like you needed to cover yourself, needing something to hide behind. Luke sat there for a moment longer, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched you retreat. He ran his hands over his face, trying to make sense of what happened, but the feeling of your body pressed against his lingered too heavily. His mind was a mess of excitement and confusion, with lingering sentiments of regret as he couldn’t help but feel that everything was screwed now. Luke stood up quickly, jogging to catch up to you, but the air between you was thick and awkward now.

The boat ride back to the lake house was silent, and the roar of the motor made it easy for neither of them to face the reality of the situation. You sat in the front hold, knees tucked to your chest, staring out at the water as it splashed against the sides of the boat, stray droplets hitting your skin. Luke sat in the driver's seat, gripping the wheel a little too tightly, sneaking glances at you every few seconds.

As the lake house came into view, you stood up quickly, ready to jump out as soon as you were close enough to the dock. Your heart was still racing, no longer from excitement, but from the overwhelming sense of reality that had come crashing down. All the unspoken tension, all the nights you spent wondering if this would ever happen, it had—too fast, too soon. You didn’t know how to face it, how to face Luke.

The second the boat docked, you jumped out onto the wooden pier, barely pausing to steady yourself. You grabbed the rope, helping Luke quickly tie up the boat, before starting up the dock towards the house.

Luke hopped out, following you closely. “Wait, can we talk for a sec?” he called after you, his voice shaky, filled with desperation.

But you were already halfway to the house, your footsteps quickening. “I…I need a minute, Luke,” you replied without turning around, feeling your chest tighten with the weight of everything.

Luke stood there for a moment, watching you disappear inside. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair again, frustrated with himself. He knew that something had changed between you before this but now this was something that was going to be impossible to ignore.

Inside the house, you hurried up the stairs to your room, closing the door softly behind you before sinking onto the edge of the bed. Your heart was still pounding, not from the brisk walk you’d just done to escape Luke, but instead as you replayed the kiss in your head — how natural it had felt, how long you had waited for it, and yet how terrifying it was now that it had happened. You buried your face in your hands, trying to slow the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

As the sun set over the lake, the tension between you and Luke didn’t go unnoticed by the others at dinner. You didn’t sit in your normal spots next to each other, instead sitting at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact, and only speaking when necessary. You kept in conversation with Mark, bringing up just about anything you could think of to avoid interacting with Luke. The energy felt heavy, and no one could ignore how different things seemed between you two.

After dinner, it didn’t take long for the others in the house to confront you and Luke about what had happened that afternoon. Luke found himself outside on the back porch with Quinn and Jack, while you were cornered inside playing pool with Mark and Ethan.

Quinn and Jack watched as their little brother swirled his glass over and over, the sound of the liquid sloshing and the crickets chirping being the only sounds around them. Quinn leaned back in his chair, studying his brother carefully. His bottom lip was bright red from how hard Luke had been chewing on it, his eyes unfocused on the glass in his hand. Luke, uncharacteristically, hadn’t said anything in about 10 minutes. Normally he’d find a way to get his two cents in during every conversation, but his silence was overwhelming

“Alright, what’s going on? You and y/n have been acting weird all evening.” Quinn finally asked, honestly a bit weirded out by his brother’s behaviour.

Jack chimed in, less tactful than Quinn. “Yeah, man, did something happen on the boat? You’ve both been all… tense since you came back.”

Luke snapped his eyes off his cup, and onto his brothers whose eyes were burrowing into him. He hesitated, running a hand through his messy curls, his heart still racing from earlier. He couldn’t seem to get it to slow down. “I, uh… I made a move.” Luke admitted quietly. “I kissed her, I mean… We, uh, kissed.”

Quinn raised an eyebrow, glancing at Jack, who smiled and nodded in approval at his brother. “Finally,” he grinned. “So… was it everything you’ve ever hoped for? Did it live up to your fantasies that you’ve been dreaming of since you were fifteen?”

Luke knew Jack was poking fun at him, but as he replayed the kiss in his head, he realized it was. “It was… intense,” Luke said, choosing his words carefully. “We were chatting and then I just kissed her. Her lips… it felt like there was nothing around us when I kissed her. But…”

Luke trailed off, sinking back into his chair as the events that immediately followed replayed in his head.

“But what?” Jack probed.

Luke sighed, feeling the weight of his doubts. “After we pulled apart, I freaked out. All I could think was that I’d just ruined everything between us. I like her a lot… but I didn’t think she felt the same. And… and now I’m worried our friendship is done.”

Quinn let out a little sigh, a small smile tugging on his lips at his little brother. “Look, if it came to that point, that the two of you got close enough to make out, then it means she probably feels the same way,” Quinn said, leaning forward in his chair. “You’re not going to ruin what you two have. I promise that your friendship is strong enough to survive this.”

Jack, more relaxed, shrugged. "Yeah, you clearly like each other. Just talk to her."

Inside, the sound of pool balls clacking loudly filled the air, and no conversation was exchanged between the three of them. Mark and Ethan exchanged silent looks that were traced with unspoken words, urging the other to break the ice and ask you about what had transpired on the boat. Finally, Ethan gave in to Mark’s coaxing stares.

“So uh,” Ethan started, drawing your eyes onto him. “You gonna tell us what the fuck happened on the boat?”

Your fingers stilled on the pool cue, hesitating as you glanced between him and Mark, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Your heart thudded uncomfortably in your chest. Mark and Ethan’s eyes bore into you, expecting answers you didn’t even have for yourself. The tension from earlier had followed you inside, wrapping around your chest like a vice.

You straightened up, brushing a hand through your hair as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I… I kissed him,” you admitted, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “Or maybe he kissed me. I don’t know… it just happened.” You let out a sigh, biting your bottom lip.

Mark raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. “Okay, you kissed, big fucking whoop,” he said, taking a step forward. “Explain to me, then, why are you both acting like someone just died?”

Ethan snorted, leaning his cue against the table. "Yeah, seriously. It’s not like anyone’s surprised. You’ve had this thing between you for… what? Years?"

But to you, it felt like something had. Not a person, but something sacred between you and Luke—something that had been built carefully over years of knowing one another. You had always skirted the edges of something more, but you’d never let yourselves tip over. Until today. And now everything felt fragile like the ground beneath your feet was unstable.

“It’s not that simple. Luke and I… I mean we’ve always been friends. We never crossed that line, even when it felt like we were close. And now… I don’t know. I feel like I messed it all up.”

Ethan scoffed. “Messed it up? You didn’t mess anything up. You guys finally did something that everyone’s been telling you to do for ages. Hell, it’s about time.”

Mark chimed in, his tone a bit more understanding. “Listen, I know it’s scary now that you think your friendship’s changed, but from what I’ve seen, I don’t think anything’s ruined. I think this is something you’ve both wanted for a while. You’ve always liked each other, even if you both pretended not to.”

You looked down, fingers tapping nervously against the side of the pool table. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” you whispered, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since the moment you left the boat. “I mean, I… I basically jumped on him. What if I made things awkward for him?”

Mark rolled his eyes, walking over to stand beside you. “Trust me, if Luke had a problem with it, he would’ve said something by now. You didn’t force anything. From what it sounds like, he was just as into it as you were.”

Ethan nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Don’t overthink it. He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are. Just talk to him.”

You sighed, knowing deep down that they were right, but the anxiety still clawed at your insides. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship,” you admitted quietly. “We’ve been close for so long… if this messes things up, I don’t know how I’ll deal with it.”

Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes. No matter how many times they reassured you that your friendship wouldn’t be ruined, it was clear that your anxieties were getting the best of you. “You won’t ruin anything. I’ve seen how Luke looks at you. That guy is all in, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling on it anxiously. As their words sunk in, you couldn’t help but glance toward the back door, where you knew Luke was with his brothers. The thought of confronting him, of actually talking about what had happened, still terrified you. But deep down, you knew it was the only way to move forward.

Mark and Ethan’s advice echoed in your mind: Talk to him. It was scary, but you couldn’t deny the spark that had ignited between you and Luke. Maybe, just maybe, there was something more waiting for you both on the other side of this conversation.

After the conversation wound down, you couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between you and Luke. Even though Mark and Ethan’s reassurances helped ease some of your worries, the knot of uncertainty in your chest remained. It gnawed at you, the same question echoing over and over in your mind: What if this changes everything?

As the house settled into its quiet evening rhythm and the sounds of conversations faded into the background, your thoughts were still consumed by that kiss — how everything had felt so right in the moment, yet so terrifying in its aftermath. You and Luke had always danced around the possibility of something more, but now that it had finally happened, the reality of it weighed heavy on you.

Later that night, sleep refused to come, your mind running wild with the events of the day. You lay there in the quiet of your room, replaying the kiss over and over again. Every brush of Luke’s lips against yours, every touch of his hands, the way his breath had quickened as he held you close. The intensity of it all made your heart race, but so did the fear that followed.

You glanced at the clock: it was well past midnight, but sleep was the last thing on your mind. Instead, your thoughts turned to the advice Mark and Ethan had given you. Talk to him, they said. But what if talking only made things worse? What if everything fell apart? Yet, despite the fear gnawing at you, one truth remained clear: you couldn’t ignore this. You couldn’t pretend the kiss hadn’t happened or that it hadn’t meant anything. You needed to talk to Luke.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you quietly made your way to the door. The moment you turned the handle and pulled it open, you froze.

Luke stood there, his hand raised as if he was about to knock, his blue eyes wide in surprise. “Oh!” you gasped.

“I was just coming to talk to you,” he said, his voice soft and uncertain. “Can I come in?”

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. The air between you felt heavy with anticipation, and as Luke entered, the awkward tension that had been present all evening seemed to follow. You both sat on the edge of the bed, keeping a small but noticeable distance between each other. The silence was deafening as you each tried to find the right words to start.

“So…” you started, breaking the tension. “About earlier.”

“Yeah,” Luke muttered, glancing at you before looking down again. “That was… intense.”

You let out a small laugh, though it was more out of nerves than humour. “Yeah. It was.”

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he was struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I didn’t mean for it to… you know, get weird.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, it wasn’t just you. I was freaking out too. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and I didn’t know if this would… ruin that.”

Luke’s eyes finally met yours, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze. “I thought the same thing. But… I think we’re making this more complicated than it needs to be.”

You fought a smile that was grappling to show, needing to hear Luke say it. “What do you mean?”

Luke swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I want us to be more than friends. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I didn’t think you felt the same. But after today…” He trailed off, his words hanging in the air.

“I do,” you whispered. “I’ve felt the same way for a while. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief washed over Luke’s face, and a small smile tugged at his lips. A matching smile formed on your lips as you thought for a moment. “How do we move forward? Like… as more than friends,” you asked.

“I think we just stay the same,” Luke shrugged. “Except now I can call you my girlfriend, and I can kiss you, and we can have sex.”

You laughed, feeling some of the tension melt away. “Is that all?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied with a grin, leaning closer. “Is that okay with you?”

Your breath hitched as the space between you shrank. “Yeah. It’s more than okay.”

Without another word, Luke leaned in, and this time, when your lips met, there was no hesitation. All the years of restraint, of not crossing the line, melted away as your hands found his curls, tugging them gently. A low groan escaped him as you moved into his lap, feeling the heat between you intensify. His hands slid down your body, resting on your waist before moving lower, gripping you as he pulled you closer. You could feel every inch of him beneath you, the warmth of his skin against yours. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, finally letting go of everything you’d been holding back.

The weight of the uncertainty that had been sitting between you all evening lifted, replaced by a dizzying sense of relief and excitement. Luke's hands gripped your hips firmly, grounding you in the moment. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, fast and erratic, matching the wild rhythm of your own. The connection between you had always been there, simmering beneath the surface, but now it was tangible, electric, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

Luke’s lips moved against yours with a sense of urgency, wanting to taste every bit of you. His hands slid up your sides, fingers brushing your skin under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a soft sigh against his lips.

Pulling back slightly, you caught your breath as you both took a moment to come back to reality. Luke’s hands stayed on your waist, his thumbs gently brushing your skin, as if he didn’t want to let go.

“I can’t believe we waited this long,” Luke whispered, his breath warm against your lips.

You laughed softly, reaching up to his curls and gently running a hand through them. “I know, it feels kind of crazy, right?”

He chuckled, a low sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “We’re idiots. Could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble.”

You smiled, scanning his eyes. There was something different in them now—no more hesitation, no more uncertainty. Just Luke, as you had always known him, but also something more. “Better late than never, though,” you teased softly.

Luke's hands moved up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks. “You know, I meant what I said earlier,” he whispered. “I’ve wanted this for a long time. I just didn’t think you’d ever want me like that.”

You blinked, feeling your heart squeeze at his vulnerability. “Luke, I’ve always wanted you,” you admitted quietly, your voice shaking just slightly. “I just… I was scared.”

His gaze softened, and he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “I get it. I was scared too. But I’m not scared anymore.”

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth flood your chest at his words. “Me either,” you whispered, brushing your fingers through his curls. “I’m not scared anymore.”

The moment cooled down, and you both slipped into a comfortable silence, basking in the newfound closeness. You moved up the bed and under the covers, wrapping yourselves in each other’s arms. The steady rise and fall of Luke’s chest and the soft sound of crickets outside lulled you into a sense of peace. With his hand gently tracing up and down your side, you nodded off, feeling the weight of all the years and uncertainty melt away, leaving only the warmth of the present.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...

Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vincent Price propaganda:

Submitted: this fancam

Submitted: this entire Tumblr page

Cary Grant propaganda:

"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Dragon Blood

Chapter 1: Jace is furious that a mere servant like you has Targaryen blood. It would benefit you to know your place.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Dragonseed (f) reader

The grand halls of Dragonstone echoed with the sounds of dragons and the footsteps of staff. You walked among them, invisible. As a servant, you were accustomed to blending into the background, a silent observer to the lives of the Targaryens.

Today was no different. The sun cast long rays through the high windows as you carried a tray of goblets, preoccupied with tasks. You barely noticed the tall figure that stood watching you from a shadowed alcove.

"Come with me," a commanding voice cut through your thoughts. You looked up to see Jacaerys Velaryon.

You hesitated, but his tone left no room for disobedience. It wasn't as if you could deny a prince anyway. You followed him down a dimly lit corridor. You rushed to brush down your dress and try to make yourself presentable. He led you into a small, secluded room, closing the door behind you with a thud.

"Do you know why you're here?" Jacaerys asked, his eyes boring into yours. It seemed like he was studying your eyes, and you cast yours down, unable to handle his intensity.

You had been self-concious about your eyes. Their unusual purple hue had caused you to be the butt of many jokes and accusations.

"No, my prince," you stammered.

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Y/N, L/N" he said. “That's your full name, correct?”

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, before adding the customary, “My prince.”

"I've been researching our bloodlines, looking for potential dragon riders. Imagine my surprise when I found out about you," he said, his tone dripping with disdain. "A servant, hiding in plain sight."

You blinked, confusion mingling with fear. "Me?"

"Yes, you," he replied, his eyes narrowing. "You are a Targaryen bastard. Your lineage gives you a claim, a potential to bond with a dragon."

The revelation hit you like a tidal wave. Yet the intensity in Jacaerys' eyes told you he believed it.

"But... I'm just a servant," you whispered, struggling to process your shock.

"Aye, just a servant," he echoed, his gaze piercing. "With the blood of the dragon in her veins."

His tone was insinuating that you were unworthy of the privilege, which made you acutely aware of the power dynamic. He was a prince, the heir to the throne. He was pure and noble and chosen by the gods, while you were a nobody, a commoner, privileged to even be in his presence. It made you feel small and insignificant.

"My prince," you replied, bowing your head. "I have no wish to claim a dragon. I am content as I am."

Jacaerys' eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Forgive me if I don't believe you." he said, his voice low and challenging. "Power corrupts even those who do not wish for it."

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

The revelation that you were a Targaryen bastard haunted you. You had never known your parents, raised by an innkeeper who later sent you to work as a servant at the Dragonstone. Your life had been a series of harsh treatments, endless work, and neglect. But now, the knowledge that you had the blood of the dragon stirred something in you.

As you scrubbed the floors of the castle, you couldn't help but ponder what it would be like to be a dragon rider, to wield such awesome power. You imagine life as a princess, adored and respected, a major contrast to your current situation. But you kept these thoughts to yourself.

Today, your tasks took you to the castle study, carrying scrolls and parchments for the maesters. As you entered the study, you noticed the prince perched over maps and documents, his expression intense and focused.

Your curiosity got the better of you. Gathering your courage, you approached him hesitantly. "My prince, may I ask you something?" you bowed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacaerys looked up. "What is it?" he asked, his tone measured but firm.

"I... I was wondering if you could tell me who my parents were" you said, your heart pounding in your chest.

"And why would you need that information?" he responded, his gaze challenging.

You flinched slightly but forced yourself to speak. "I grew up not knowing where I came from. It's a curiosity I can't ignore... even if its just their names. Please."

Jacaerys studied you for a long moment, his expression a contemplation. Finally, he sighed, his tone remaining hard. "Your mother was a distant niece of my great-grandsire," he began, watching your reaction closely, "and your father was a mere farm hand. As far as I could tell, she was a bastard herself, and they were both commoners like you.”

His words stung, but you were grateful to at least have some information. You fidgeted with your hands. “Do you know their names?”

“I couldn't find your fathers name, but your mother was recorded. Her name was Halaena.”

“Halaena,” you repeated, not understanding why your heart sped up as you spoke the name of your mother. It was beautiful. "Thank you, my prince," you said, bowing your head, hiding a smile.

He regarded you with a mix of disdain and curiosity. "You're welcome.” he said before turning back to his maps and documents, effectively dismissing you.

You turned to leave the study, your mind racing, but as you reached for the door handle, he called after you. “Remember your place.” Jace didn't bother lifting His eyes off the maps to see your response.

Your hands balled into fists. You've never interacted with Jace much. But your fellow servents had only nice things to say about him. Well, clearly, they had misread his character.

Nevertheless, your mother's name echoed in your thoughts, bringing a strange sense of satisfaction; finally, you've answered a question you've had your whole life. For the first time in your life, you felt a connection to your past. As you resumed your duties, a quiet resolve began to take root within you. A hope that this is a potential plan b.

[acid-ixx]

IM ALMOST DONE

THIS IS GONNA BE GUT-WRENCHING

Taken from the prequel:

you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together.

— masterlist !

help ??!? u rlly are feeding the community with ur fanart 🩷 bruce and damian bonding together despite it only being months since he was introduced into the family literally ruins any sliver of hope and only furthers the longing (name) would have, and the fact that they're mere silhouettes in the art is so <33 erm ignore my suddenly disappearance for a day or two, i was feeling unwell 💔

otherwise, here's something for u because i appreciate everything you send me ! ft. post-kidnapped reader with yan! bruce and damian.

bruce and damian after kidnapping you would not take lightly the diary entries you have written, expressing jealousy and contempt towards your biological father and half-brother, about how it was alfred who had to take the time of his busy day to watch a movie with you instead. when you write about how you wished alfred was your father instead, bruce would not only feel his heart clenching but he'd also need the feel to prove himself better than the past, that he can and will be the only father you would ever need.

add damian to the mix, who had his own bouts of jealousy towards you, who wanted to bond with you in ways closer than you ever will with your other siblings, who felt that deep pit of guilt that he knows he could never crawl out of, with his addled tantrums...

— and you get yourself an overtly clingy dynamic with those two in the same room as you. now, instead of both of them dismissing your presence, the two would be fixated upon your every movement, your expressions, your actions. anything and everything would be documented and if you ate less or talked less, damian would always be the first to comment upon it, and your dad (as you should be calling bruce) would take damian's observations seriously. there's no escaping their grips.

no, you can't say no just now! damian wants to watch animal documentaries with you and that's the only thing keeping him from slicing someone's head off their body! what do you mean you don't want to spend time with them? bruce just needs to have his baby by his side and— no, just because you're over 18 doesn't mean your family would lessen their affection towards you! you're still so young and who knows what path of self-destruction you'd bring on yourself if you're left to your own whims.

the family is dysfunctional enough, so any concept of personal space is nonexistent. it makes everything worse if you'd have to deal with more than two people in the same room... and two very strong, capable, and deadly vigilantes who invites you to watch movies with them isn't very soothing to your veins but those hands that can crush your throats are your family and they make it obvious that you're the favorite, that despite the... rough past they inflicted on you, they'll always love you; so what's the point in denying them?

you'll be squashed between your father and your youngest brother on the couch, with fluffy blankets and your favorite show playing in the background. you express any ounce of discomfort and bruce would immediately ask you what's wrong, what do you need, are you hungry, perhaps? is the popcorn stale? or do you want another snack? he'll pause the movie and ask you with practiced precision, the furrow on his brows and analytical eyes are an immediate signal that all your answers are taken seriously. yet despite his intimidating tactics, despite the lack of light in the room casting a shadow on his face, he questions you with your head laid on his chest and a scarred hand trying to soothingly run through your hair.

meanwhile, damian wouldn't even hesitate resting his head on your shoulders, finding it useless to silently express his need for your physical affection. so he takes it in himself to wrap his entire body around your torso, hands locking you in a grip that provides scorching heat under the countless of blankets you're already wrapped in. sometimes, he doesn't even know that he occasionally nuzzles against your neck, and you have no way to push yourself away from him because the position you're in makes you sandwiched between your father's chest and damian's body. and you can't do anything about it but puff, asking your youngest if he could be so kind to at least leave you air to breath.

he'll merely comply, but then it's your legs that would be tangled against each other next, and it'd be soon you'll discover that it's meaningless trying to attempt to escape their affection.

because really, you have no way out of this, not when everyone suddenly insists that bonding time with any siblings or with bruce requires your presence above everybody else's.

[pedgito]

𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 | Joel Miller x reader

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | set in the world of handsome, dirty, rich. joel is celebrating your one year anniversary with a few surprises. alternatively: how fast can ali turn a new pedro pic into a fic? also, bless @undercoverpena —she set me on a dangerous path with this one.

content warning | sugar daddy!joel, reader has no description other than a vague mention of a dress, thigh riding, borderline public sex/voyeurism, the use of a certain undergarment for pleasure, fingering, established relationship, sneaking around, subtle dom!joel & brat!reader, pure filth i do not apologize, un-beta'd

word count — 2.7k

He’s rented out the entire restaurant. All for you.

It doesn’t dawn on you at first, but as the primly dressed workers attend to you at the door, carefully removing the coat off your shoulders while another guides you toward the table in the corner of the restaurant—the rest of the space was dimly lit, except here. The overhead light casted a warm but pale yellow glow down on the table. Two plush, leather chairs that you were sure cost at least half of your monthly rent—not that you paid that, either. Joel had made sure of that.

You tried to deny it in the beginning, to fend off his constant willingness to make sure you didn’t have to stress or lift a finger when it came to finances—that you could focus on your degree without any outside distractions. 

Your relationship was still something kept between the both of you, a sacred bond in a bubble that hadn’t been popped yet. It was perfect, too perfect. And you refused to give that up just yet.

“Really?” You ask, scrunching the dress up near your hips as you take a seat in the pulled out chair, careful that it wouldn’t ride up too high, but it seems futile as the moment you both hit the seat, Joel’s palm is settling between your legs. His palm curls around your left thigh, a comforting gesture he did whenever he had a moment to touch you—it doesn’t move, doesn’t linger too close or too far, it’s just there. You rub your thumb over his knuckles and smile. 

“I shoulda told them I wanted the center table, huh?” Joel joked, flashing that perfect smile, his cheek dimpling. “Only the best for my girl.”

“Oh, because the empty restaurant you rented out wasn’t enough?” The playful resonance in your tone makes Joel chuckle, but quickly fades as he sees one of the several waiters approaching.

He orders some fancy bottle of wine you can’t pronounce and you can’t help but stare. He’s so…dressed down, compared to you. A simple white shirt, black jeans that he’s worn on several occasions but always hugging his thighs in a way made your mouth fucking salivate.

You weren’t even five minutes into this date and you were ready to cut short and run, saddle up over his lap in the driver’s seat of his truck and sink down on his cock for a quick five minutes of pure bliss, feeling the full extent and intensity of his love for you in the way he let his guard down in those moments.

The second you’re alone he’s moving his hand from your thigh to the nakedness of your neck, sliding around the back and guiding you toward him, a surprisingly gentle kiss against the column of your throat followed by a soft, “Never enough, baby.”

God, he was in a mood today.

It was nearing a year of making…whatever this was official. It wasn’t asking for your hand in marriage or even to be his girlfriend, just a silent agreement that you both wanted whatever it was that you felt for each other, regardless of labeling it. And that was what worked the easiest for you both. You tried not to think about it too often, the outside distractions and betrayals you were allowing to happen when buying into his attraction to you.

But, right now, that was the last thing on your mind.

Joel does all the ordering—a three course meal of chef’s choice that came with a hefty tip.

So, they were very good at leaving you alone. Just as Joel had requested.

“Did you like your gift?” Joel asks after some time, using the cloth napkin to wipe at his mouth, peering up at you as he forks another piece of food into his mouth.

Gift. You huff a soft laugh through your nose behind closed lips.

“Oh, those—” You roll your eyes playfully, poking at your food with your fork, “yeah—of course.”

And you were absolutely wearing them, just like he asked.

A sleek, lace pair of panties with a matching bralette, but the very obvious bump of a vibrator tucked away in the gusset of your underwear was a dangerous, dangerous game. They didn’t come with a remote but you knew exactly where it was, watching the smile on Joel’s face grow more relaxed as he was on his third cup of wine, but somehow more drunk on the sight of you.

“Wearin ‘em?” Joel asks, just to be sure. “Like I told you?”

“Why don’t you find out, Mr. Miller.”

He hadn’t heard that in a minute, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as he reached blindly, but with careful precision for the remote in his pocket.

The buzz startles you at first, but it was faint. You could ignore it easily, so you did.

“Eat up,” You motion to him and his forgotten third-course, a too sweet dessert that neither of you could finish on your own, but you were willing to do anything to distract him, “don’t be rude.”

Joel quirks an eyebrow up and chuckles, “Mouthy tonight? Alright.”

It was a specialty of yours, knowing just the right amount of brattiness to get under Joel’s skin.

The vibration picks up without warning, Joel now leaned back in his chair, left leg crossed over right and his hands resting in his lap, pointedly placed over the obvious growing bulge in his jeans that he was attempting to hide.

You hand grips the table in shock, jostling the silverware slightly.

Another soft laugh from Joel and you shoot daggers in his direction.

“In public? Seriously?”

“We’ve done worse,” He shrugs, “remember that night down at the beach over the summer?”

You did. Very well, in fact.

He had fucked you so hard the ache didn’t go away for a week, right there, on the beach—a group of college kids partying not even less than 20 yards away. You knew they were watching and maybe it was the result of genuine, human curiosity. But, the whistles and shouts—it sent a bolt of excitement down your spine, causing you to squeeze around Joel’s cock as he pumped into you, coming inside of you with your face pressed into the sand.

It wasn’t your proudest moment, but damn did it make the ache between your thighs so much worse as the memory floods your mind and Joel seems to notice you becoming spacey, nudging it up a few more notches and that causes a seering look of warning, teeth gritting as you gripped for his thigh, blunt nails digging in while your other snuck between your thighs, gripping hard on your dress as you squeezed your legs shut against your hand.

“Come here,” Joel says as he beckons with two fingers, curling them in a way you were all too familiar with.

“Joel, not here—” You stress, looking around at the vacant restaurant. 

You couldn’t even hear them moving around in the kitchen anymore. You turn back to Joel and he’s still waiting, daring you as he scoots his chair back a few more inches. He offers a hand, gently removing the one gripping his thigh and you feel your body moving against your better judgment, so willing and pliant to his touch.

He maneuvers you until you’re straddling his thigh, hand gripping your waist as he forces you to take a seat, the broadness of his thigh, the taut muscle against the press of the vibrator as it forcefully dug into your already swollen clit. You gasp, gripping the tablecloth in desperation. 

“Go on,” Joel encourages, “right here—I already know what you want, baby.”

You used to think he only enjoyed the idea of you using anything but his cock to get yourself off, but you quickly realized that it was your favorite thing to do—it was the only time he got cockier than usual, more teasing, seeing how easily riding his thigh would unravel you. It felt primal, that need for release and it was building in your core, that tingling heat lingering in wait.

“If they come back—”

“They won’t,” He stresses, his voice gruff and low as a palm spreads out over your back, the other one finding its home on your thigh, so dangerously close to the hem of your underwear underneath the silk dress, “slipped them a note—”

“Don’t tell me you t-tipped them so you could get your fuckin’ rocks off in the middle of din—” Joel increases the vibration another level and your jerk, holding back the strangled moan that dared to escape as you cant your hips against his thigh, “fuck, Joel. This is—”

Joel shushes you, fingers crawling up your back until he can grip the back of your neck, holding it tight as he pulls you up, head falling back instinctively against his hand, “Ride it, sweetheart.”

You can’t help the subtle rock of your hips, eyes scanning the room anxiously—you’ve never been this intimate in public, at least not with the looming chance that anyone could walk in and see you; arms spread out to grip the table cloth and Joel’s hands all over you, leaning forward over his leg. The table provided enough cover that unless someone decided to step within a few feet, they couldn’t see anything. 

Still, your heart raced.

“Come on,” He teases, the subtle twang to his voice that had you clenching around nothing, the constant hum of the vibrator tucked away in your panties doing nothing to help quell the ache, “I rented out this restaurant for us, asked them to give us some privacy and you’re still feelin’ shy?”

“If someone were to walk by, Joel—”

Joel grips at your neck tighter suddenly, pulling you until his chest is against your back.

“I’ll turn that thing all the way up if I need to and it’ll stay on ‘til we get back home.”

His place, he means. He often called it home because it had become that to you. You had your own place, your own things, but you still found yourself there more often than not. A drawer in his closet tucked away with your belongings, your toiletries tucked away in a cabinet so Sarah wouldn’t ask questions. You’ve become masters of this game of hide and seek, managing to keep this entire thing quiet for close to a year.

Maybe it was just dumb luck.

He adds emphasis on his statement as his other hand slips between your legs and under the silk hem of your dress, palm pressing flat against your cunt and leaving you no room to wiggle away, hips jerking against his touch as you moan out, your hand slapping over your mouth at the sound.

“I’ll give you the next sixty seconds, baby,” Joel warns, glancing down at the shiny Rolex on his wrist, “if you don’t come, it’s gonna be a hell of a ride back.”

As if to make you suffer more, he slips a finger between the wet, sticky fabric of your underwear and over the line of your cunt, dragging through your slick and slipping a finger inside of you wordlessly, angling the vibrator stuffed inside the gusset of your panties against your clit with perfective precision—feeling the throb of your pussy around his fingers, the tight clench of your walls, you find yourself rocking against his thigh mindlessly, desperate to chase that relief.

You couldn’t breathe—the feeling caught in your throat as he lifted his leg only a few centimeters higher, foot raised off his heel, your dress slipping up slightly higher under his grip and allowing him a clear view of your ass, the delicious curve and the black lace that clung to your skin. He could pull his cock out and get himself off there within just a few minutes if he really wanted to and slip himself inside you right as he came, knowing how much you enjoyed being stuffed full of him.

“Attagirl,” He commends you, a grin growing on his face that you unfortunately can’t see, but you feel it—his gaze, the hot press of his hands on your body, “just like that.”

Your eyes fall closed, heading bowing as he releases his hold on your neck to grip at the fabric bunched at your waist, slipping his hand over bare skin, fingertips pressing into the flesh of your waist, aiding in the hurried rock of your hips. The feeling of fullness comes from his fingers when he slips in a second, squeaking out a quiet “Fuck,” as your hand slips, slapping against his other thigh for support, accidently brushing your fingers against the remote tucked away in his pocket and dialing up the vibrator to the max, unknowing that it was only a level off.

“‘’S right there, darlin’,” Joel softens his tone, picking up the pace of his fingers fucking into you, his grip on your hip tighter, undoubtably ruining his jeans for the night, but he clearly didn’t mind.

The feeling builds—the quick and constant stimulation does nothing to help, sending you flying over the edge with a gasp, crying out Joel’s name as he keeps you stuck, pulling out his fingers in an instant and turning off the vibrator, leaving you to wade through the orgasm untouched.

“There you go, baby,” He coos, “makin’ a goddamn mess on my jeans, aren’t you?”

You nod, feeling dizzy as your head spins and your body goes light, whining through the sensitive friction of the denim against your cunt and Joel slides a comforting hand up your spine, rubbing against the middle of your back.

“Still with me, baby?”

You nod quietly, raising your head up slowly.

Joel chuckles lowly, patting gently at your thighs until you turn sideways in his lap. He smiles softly at the disheveled state of you, much less composed than a moment ago.

“What was that about?” You ask after a moment of gentle care, his lips pressing against your neck, chin, before pressing against your lips in the most tame kiss he’s ever given you.

He’s checking in.

“Wanted to cross somethin’ off my list.” 

You raise your eyebrows in pleasant surprise, a small laugh bubbling from your chest as you adjust your dress over your chest, “A list? Like…for sex?”

Joel shakes his head, pulling his lips together in a nonchalant frown. 

“No—well, there’s some of that on there but…things I wanna do with you.”

“Oh,” Color you intrigued, you push one of his imperfectly styled curls back behind his ear, “care to share?”

Joel swipes a dollop of whipped cream on his fingers and shakes his head, “Where’s the fun in that, baby?” You shrug as he presses the cream to your lips and you open dutifully, allowing him to press the whipped sweetness against your tongue, mixed with the taste of yourself as you close your lips and suck just for show, kissing his fingertip teasingly as he pulls away and pinches playfully at your thigh.

You laugh airily, reaching for your phone on the table as you turn to him, pulling up your camera.

“Wait—you really have to see the look on your face,” Instead of keeping the dumbstruck look on his face, he brings his hands to his mouth in the act of blowing you a kiss and you snap the picture with a smile, letting out a startled yelp as he tips you back slightly, nearly into the table as he angles your body to allow his lips to touch your ear.

“Take those off,” He tells you, “otherwise I’ll be tempted again.”

“No self control, Mr. Miller?”

Joel catches your chin between the thumb and pointer of his left hand, cutting off the small giggle that starts to escape your mouth and his eyes are pensive for a brief moment before softening, “Do as I say, darlin’. We got a long drive back.”

You nod, feeling his thumb swipe over your bottom lip before he’s helping you off his lap, swatting at your ass playfully as your feet hit the floor. 

“Yes, sir,” You reply flippantly, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek before you disappear. 

Joel smirks to himself as he reaches for his wallet.

You were right, without a doubt.

Joel had no self control when it came to you and he quickly realized that he’d be willing to do just about anything to make you happy.

-

divider creds: @/saradika-graphics

[azrielslittleslut]

The Frenzy (pt. 2)

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader continue to explore their mating bond.

Warnings: smut, 18+, NSFW, fingering, edging, scratching, pet names, wing play (kind of), p in v, praise, slightly dom!Az

Word Count: 1.8k

part 1

a/n: i have at least one more part for this planned, but I am totally open to suggestions on what you guys wanna see in this fic!;)

Enjoy!

In your centuries of living, you had known some mated couples, and you had always heard tales of the intensity of the mating frenzy.

"You won't be able to get enough of them, your mate."

"You won't be able to stop. Even if you're sore and tired.."

"Your body demands more, more, more. It's like you're never satisfied."

You had always thought they were exaggerating. Surely, your body would reach a point to where food and rest would overcome your desire to have your mate inside of you.

Gods, you were wrong.

You had not gotten any sleep last night since you and Azriel had finally accepted the mating bond. You couldn't get enough of him. You craved more of his taste, his smell. You thought only of his hands on your body, his cock moving inside of you. Luckily, he met your relentless hunger with his own.

Insatiable is the only word to describe what you are feeling.

"How about a bath?" Az asked from where he was lying on top of your chest. You had just finished your tenth round of lovemaking. Or was it the eleventh? You didn't know. You lost track a while ago.

"Hmm," you murmur, running your fingers through his silky black hair. "That sounds nice." Your body was covered in dried sweat and cum, and you longed to be clean again.

Azriel gracefully slides from the bed, fighting through the tangled sheets. He grabs your ankles and pulls you after him. You laugh as he hauls you up, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He grips your ass in his hands as he walks towards the bathroom.

The bathroom was quite large, and the tub was conveniently big enough for two. The water was already running, thanks to the enchantment on the cabin. Through the large window in the bathroom, you can see the sun beginning to rise along the peaks of the mountains in the distance. It was still quite dark, though, so the cabin's magic also lit the candles lining the room, casting everything in a sultry glow.

"It seems you kept me up all night," you murmur to Az as he sets you gently into the water. You settle yourself against one of the benches along the side of the tub, and you let out a soft moan as the warm water eases the tinge of pain in your sore muscles. He had put you in positions you hadn't even realized were possible, but you weren't complaining.

Azriel chuckles as he gets in after you, making his way over to settle himself between your spread legs. He leans down and begins kissing your neck, sucking on your skin. His shadows swirl around him, and you giggle as you feel them tickle your face. "What can I say?" he asks, his voice low. "I crave you. You make me almost feral because of how much I need you."

You lean your head back against the edge of the tub to give him better access. "I didn't realize it would be like this," you admit. "I'm so tired and sore, but I want more."

Azriel pulls away and you can see his eyes darken with lust. It was a new look from him you had grown accustomed to over the last few hours. You had seen his eyes full of happiness, which caused the greens and browns in his hazel eyes to stand out. You had seem them full of sadness, and even fear.

But this look.. this look caused his eyes to turn almost black, and the sight of it lit a fire deep in your bones and caused your pussy to throb.

He smirks, and you find yourself staring at the way his luscious lips move. You remember the way those lips feel wrapped around your nipples, the way they felt against your slick folds.

You let out a soft moan and pull him closer, wrapping your legs around his waist in the process. The hot water from the bath felt cold compared to the heat dancing across your skin. The world narrowed down to only Azriel, and your unrelenting need for him.

He chuckles. "So needy for my cock, hm?" he teases, leaning down to bite on the tender spot between your neck and shoulder. "Let's see what we can do about that."

He swiftly moves back, pulling you with him as he settles on the bench across from yours. You sigh as you feel his hardness against your aching core, and you can't help yourself as you grind against him.

Azriel clicks his tongue and grabs your hips, stopping you in place. "None of that," he murmurs as he moves his hand down to run a finger through your pussy. "You think I haven't noticed how much you love my fingers in you?" He pushes his middle finger in slowly, watching in awe as your mouth drops open in pleasure as he begins to thrust.

Indeed, you loved his fingers inside of you. It was no secret that Az was insecure about his hands, although you had always found them beautiful. But like this, there were no insecurities to be found. He had quickly learned how to make you come apart with his hands alone, and holy shit was he good at it.

Suddenly, he stops his movements, and you hold back a cry of protest. With his free hand, he smacks your ass slightly, causing the water around you to ripple. "When I ask you a question, I expect an answer." The tone of his voice held no room for argument.

In the past few hours, you had realized your mate was a walking paradox. To everyone else, he was polite, kind, and gentle. Yes, he could be cruel and ruthless, but that was only when he was doing his job for the Night Court. But in the bedroom, he was a demanding male, and he had the tendency to withhold your pleasure if you didn't follow his orders.

You didn't mind. With him, you had no problem being told what to do. You loved the idea of him being in control. In fact, it turned you on like fucking crazy.

"Y-yes," you stutter, struggling to find words. "I love your fingers, your hands. You make me feel so good with them."

"Good girl." He begins to move his hand again, and he quickly adds another finger. "Has anyone else made you feel this good, princess?" he asks, leaning down to leave hickeys along your neck. "Tell me."

You shake your head, already beginning to feel your climax build. "No," you whisper.

Az slows down his hand, just enough to cause your pleasure to subside. "No what."

Smug bastard.

You offer him a sweet, innocent smile. "No, sir."

"There's those manners," he murmurs. He removes his hand, and you cry out at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He runs a soothing hand over your hip, moving it down to grasp his cock. "Take it. Take your pleasure, baby."

You wrap your hands around him, marveling at the fact that your fingertips don't touch. You hover over him just long enough for you to line him up with your pussy. In a quick move, you slam your hips down, seating him into the hilt.

"Fuck," he snarls, throwing his head back against the tub. "You take my cock so well, angel."

You begin to move, slamming yourself down over and over. You don't care about the fact that the water is splashing all over the floor. You are only focused on him, on the way his cock fits perfectly inside of you like it was made for you and you for him. You run your fingers over his chest, digging your nails in to leave marks across his Illyrian tattoos. "You fill me up so good. Nobody has ever made me feel like this, and nobody else will." You lean forward to trace your tongue across the skin of his neck, loving the feeling of his strained muscles. "You're perfect for me."

He moans at the praise coming from your lips, at the feeling of your tongue along his skin. He grips your hips in his hands as he begins to fuck you, meeting your thrusts with his own. Your eyes roll back as you feel him hitting that tender spot deep inside of you over and over again.

Through your mindless pleasure, you notice his wings have moved in slightly, wrapping themselves around you. You grip his face gently in your hand to get his attention. "Can I?" you ask quietly. You had never touched his wings, and you would understand if he wasn't ready for that yet.

His gaze softens as he realizes what you are asking. "Yes. Of course."

You smirk at him as you move your hands up. "Nothing crazy for now." In each hand, you grip his talons at the end of his wings. "My mate has made me tired and sore, so I could just use some leverage."

You hold his wings, keeping your eyes on Azriel as you keep moving, grinding your hips down so that your clit rubs against his pelvic bone. You feel his shadows begin to dance across your heated skin, running across your sensitive nipples.

"You're. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he roars, accentuating each word with a powerful thrust of his hips. "All mine. All mine." He says the words like a prayer, and you send up your own prayer to the Mother, thanking her for blessing you with such a wonderful mate.

The bathroom is filled with the sound of your combined moans, and the sinfulness of it causes your tether to snap. You scream as your climax slams into you, gripping his talons tightly.

"That's it, love," Azriel moans, fucking you through it. "Give me your pleasure." His eyes roll back into his head as you milk him. With a final deep thrust, Azriel follows you, filling you with ropes of his cum.

You gently release his wings, moving your hands down to cup his face. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, noting every freckle dusting the top of his nose. "I love you," you whisper.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. He nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in your scent that is now mixed with his. "I love you more," he responds. He wraps his wings tightly around you, forming what looks like a cocoon.

The two of you had wasted so much time, so many years. Now, there would be no more wasted time. You would love him with all of your strength, and you knew he would love you with all of his. That new bond glows brightly within your chest, and you smile at the feeling of it.

Forever wouldn't be long enough to be with him, but every forever starts with a beginning.

This was only the beginning.

taglist: @lilah-asteria @ivy-34

[licensedproldier]

highlights from the brennan hank interview (aka taking notes on things that i liked or didn't know)

HE STARTED ATTENDING COLLEGE WHEN HE WAS 14?????

immediate jump off topic from hank to ask him about d20 (this happened while fhjy was airing)

"and the greatest project of all, my wonderful family with my wife isabella roland"

bonding over their children

brennan and hank's son both corrected their father's bedtime stories 💀

many elaine lee shoutouts

"his dad met my mom and fell in love" "you did that" "we did that, parent-trapped them"

was pulled out of school in 4th grade for homeschooling because the bullying was so bad....

started a company when they (he and his brother) were fifteen?? called Bootleg Adventures

hank's little awed hiss of "what" to the above piece of information

GOT PART OWNERSHIP OF THE WAYFINDER COMPANY AT 15

"knowledge is something that, when you share it, there's just more. there's no scarcity"

hank staring off into space slightly looking like brennan just blew his mind (we're 11 minutes in)

"we were 14 year old philosophy majors, if you can imagine anything more normal than that"

brennan unable to resist doing fun voices for the people he talks about

he wouldve loved to work at wayfinder full time and said back then hey maybe ill become a famous internet comedian or something and that's how i can help camp. now he's got texts from the staff saying how a bunch of dimension 20 fans have joined and its been a huge boon for them that way 🥺

"it's funny when a really bad plan works. dont make that plan."

"every new community-- is this too sad? no its true" THOSE THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE

anyway "for every new community i start with the presupposition that someone is going to pick me up and put me in the trash can" 😭

hank sniping him through the duplex door with "[when you do that] you kind of imagine yourself to be the value you're delivering rather than yourself, or that your value is in what you deliver and not who you are" and brennan going 😐 "that's a great point man"

both of them turning to do pained smiles at the camera 😭

"i think the value is in who you are" "that's really sweet i appreciate that" "but i also love that you deliver"

brennan quoting mary oliver

im starting to feel a little called out guys

robert mckee "stories are not about their premises they're about their conclusions"

brennan also staring off into space slightly thinking about what hank said

the REAL college advice brennan is giving is reportedly "put an egg in your ramen" because thats how you stop your eyes from going "matte finish"

shoutout to vanessa's dumplings for keeping this man alive

"i am ozymandias nerd of nerds, gaze upon my banner and despair"

the moment he felt like something changed was walking into C2E2 and seeing that the biggest hanging banner in the convention hall was of fantasy high. or, as brennan put it, "my dumb face"

"my friends moved in with their partners, the apartment i had with them scattered to the wind, the woman i was dating dumped me after three weeks, and i won a bunch of money on Who Wants to Be a Millionare" "wh- what???"

he taught emily, murph, siobhan, and zac how to play dnd 🥺 and was running a home game for lou at the same time

got hired at um, actually because his name was getting around for being a big dork

zac stepped down from troopers and sam liked brennan's character from a previous casting call (tim curry eating pizza) so he brought him in

its very charming the detail with which brennan remembers these important moments in his life

became a full time cast member in the same week he started dating izzy! "hard to beat week gang!"

"they told us they were launching dropout and everyone had to make a show, which, if you're been trying to make a show your whole life, that's like saying 'bad news guys, there's 24 birthday cakes in the break room and everyone has to eat a whole birthday cake'."

brennan was making a document for a market pitch on an actual-play show when he was called into office and THEY pitched HIM the idea of an actual-play show

"i guess i have tumbled through life to end up here ready to do this"

truly like. one of the guys of all time.

"some of the things that didn't make sense about you make more sense now" hank talking indirectly about how amazing he found all the moving parts of mentopolis and now getting to hear about how long and how many time he's done storytelling it makes sense

"yeah its the one skill"

"i wanted to tell stories before i was anything else"

🎉anti-capitalist rant🎉

"people used to say 'is ucb a cult' and i'd say 'in a cult, somebody is making money'"

HIGH FIVE!!!

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, omegaverse, poly

gn reader

Thinking about Betas and how lost they are navigating the world of Alphas and Omegas. Betas, with no second gender and none of those primal instincts, who has to listen to all this mating and bonding drama without ever participating in any of it. Betas, who often find Omegas cute and Alphas hot but who feel kind of left out of the running. Betas who make great clueless friends…

“So, do you like—take suppressants for your heats or?” he asks during lunch.

You knew it was coming. You’d just had a special guest lecture about heats and ruts, and all your friends, the entire two of them, were both betas—so it was mostly all new to them.

“Dude! That’s so personal!” your other friend berates, jabbing his side and casting him a glare before throwing you an apologetic smile on both of their behalf. But you could tell he was burning with the same curiosity, he was just polite enough to look it up on his phone instead.

“M’sorry, but teach didn’t explain it well,” he apologizes while rubbing his side clear of the definite bruise left there. “Like…” He almost pouts, picking at his lunch. “What do heats actually do? Like—does it compel Alphas to—uhm… have sex with you? Or?”

“Dude!” the other all but shrieks.

“It’s fine,” you declare with a little laugh. Though it’s true what he says that it’s personal, you wouldn’t really mind disclosing some of the basics. Especially if it meant killing off a few rumors.

Though you regret it a bit once both of them end up staring at you wide-eyed and waiting.

“Uhm…” You swallow thickly—you didn’t realize it was that interesting. “So, it’s really… just a faint scent that’s caused by pheromones.” They don’t even blink as they listen, lunches all but forgotten in front of them. “All it really does is let people know when I’m—or an Omega—uhm… is most fertile.”

“Right…” One of them nods respectfully.

But the other, as usual, has more questions to ask. “So why take suppressants if that’s all it is?”

You blush. “Well, it’s kinda embarrassing to walk around letting people know such a thing…” That’s half of it. “But, uhm… well—heats don’t affect others more than it affects Omegas themselves. It’s kinda like… having a fever—but also having swallowed a lot of cough syrup. And well…” You’re really blushing now. Lowering your voice almost to a whisper. “There’s the horny aspect of it too.”

The other two blush as well. The more mature one had gone silent a while ago, but even so, it didn’t stop the other from continuing. “So, like a drug then?”

That wasn’t the worst way of putting it, so you nodded. “I guess you could say that.”

He smiles then, widely. “Sounds kinda fun!”

And the other jabs his side once more. “Dude, shut up already.” 

You didn’t think a Beta could ever do the job of an Alpha—but lucky you had two of them.

You have one of them in your mouth, suckling sweetly, hooded eyes glossy with your heat, looking up at him—your well-mannered Beta friend who barely dares touch you but is absolutely falling apart by the way your tongue swirls around his shaft, trailing veins as you take him as far back as your uvula. He’s biting his lip hard, keeping it tucked so as not to moan out the way his friend is.

He isn’t afraid to touch—or he couldn’t hold back even if he were. He’s squeezing the fat of your haunches hard enough to leave bruises, keeping you in place as he pounds you hard from behind. Unabashed groans and moans leave him, along with the slick squelches of your hole soaking and sucking him in.

“Fu-uck, can’t believe it—it’s so fucking wet—” He’s drooling and sweating, eyes misty and glued to the sight of where he’s drilling the juice out of you. It’s unlike anything he’s ever seen. Not that he has too much experience, but he’s never wanted to cum so badly in his entire life. “You’re so tight—squeezing me so hard!” he rambles while continuing his downright desperate pace.

“Shut up…” the other mutters under his breath but doesn’t take his eyes off you. You’re bewitching him with your gaze—round doe-eyes, blown wide with pleasure. He wonders if you even know what’s happening or if it’ll be like a blacked-out hangover in the morning. He ought to have asked more questions when he could. But he can’t seem to bring himself to care. In any case, you seem to be loving the taste of his pre, and the thought is making every part of his body buzz with warmth. You’ll probably drink his cum with the way you’re drooling and mewing around him.

It nearly brings them both to tears—it’s like the wettest dream come true as they both fill you up—one deep into your womb as he bottoms out tightly and the other down your throat with your lips wrapped all the way down at the base.

They both collapse afterward. One lies on his back and the other on his stomach—bodies stippled with sweat—both heaving.

You pout, looking at them. They must be out of their minds if they think that’s all it takes. You straddle the one on his back, both your hands around his softening dick, rubbing it back into hardness.

“Hey, hey, hey—hey, wait!” he stammers, shooting up and stopping you—both hands wrapping around your wrist to try and pry you off without prying his dick off while at it.

“No!” you whine. “Not done.”

The look in your eyes is sore enough to make any man fall to his knees.

“Please? I need more… please give me more…”

If he was blushing before, he’s full feverish now. Panning from your pouty face riddled with desperation down at his fellow Beta friend who looks back up at him with a similar expression.

We're in trouble.

♡ BNHA – ShinKami, KiriKami, KamiSero, KiriBaku, TodoDeku, loserboys ShigaDabi or DabiHawks ♡ JJK – ItaFushi, loserboys SatoSugu ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[vesppperoro]

hii uhh, i had a little idea that id like to share if thats ok, it might be quite triggering tho so be warned ‼️

a sinner demon reader thats based on a teddy bear, because theyre too soft and mushy personality-wise, and they ended up in hell due to being suicidal. like their whole body is covered in stitches thats supposed to be a metaphor for sh scars

do whatever u want with that info, u can even ignore it if u like, have a nice day ❤️

Hazbin Hotel Cast with a Teddy Bear!Sinner Reader

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: this is such an interesting idea! I’m going based on my own experiences as someone like this, along with research. I appreciate you for trusting me with this <3 I definitely WILL make a p2!! Might write for this sinner more tbh I loved writing them!! I thought you meant a child and I wrote that I’m so sorry 😭

Charlie Morningstar

She truly didn’t understand why you were in hell.

You are such a sweetheart! She adores you.

When you showed up to the hotel one day, without clothes and covered in stitches, she was immediately worried.

She took you in and washed you up as best as she could.

You were like a child! Why were you even here?

She was happy that you wanted to be redeemed, however.

She became a mother figure to you.

You go to her when you’re sad and you hug her frequently.

She traces your scars sometimes and you two share a silent moment together.

A silent moment of understanding.

She loves picking you up and holding you!

She hugs you like you’re an actual teddy bear.

She’s the one you go to for emotional things.

She’s good at comforting you. She somehow knows what you wanna hear at all times.

Vaggie

She became a secondary mother figure to you.

She was Charlie’s girlfriend, so of course she was.

She understood your situation and was pissed heaven casted a sweetie like you because of your lowest point.

She’s the more levelheaded one.

She’s the one who gives you advice and stuff like that. While Charlie is the more emotionally supportive one, Vaggie is the more mature and steady one.

She also traces your scars. Even if you don’t like them, she tells you you’re beautiful no matter what.

When you told her more of your story, she almost cried.

A child feeling this way broke her to pieces. Especially since you were so soft.

Other than the sad stuff, she loves cuddling you.

You, her, and Charlie sometimes have cuddle sessions with you in the middle because you’re so warm + soft + squishy.

She would kill anyone for you. You’re just so adorable!

She tries to teach you to fight but gives up when you don’t want to hurt anyone.

Angel Dust

Honestly, he saw himself in you.

A lost, scared, and lonely child. You didn’t know the cruelties of the world, aside from those cruelties in your mind.

He tries his best to comfort you. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always there for you.

He calls you sugar bear! He loves you to death.

He would go to the ends of hell for you.

He treats you like he wished to be when he was the same way.

You two share a lot of similarities, so you bond well.

He nearly cried when you told him your stitches were scars from sh.

He embraces you any time he can.

He tries to be the parental figure he needed so you can have a better life, somewhere no one would judge you.

Husk

He’s stubborn, like a dad. He acts like one too.

A hardheaded, yet sweet dad.

He’s like the father you never had. Or did have. Whichever.

He’s the bartender, so he knew how to comfort.

But when you told him your story, he almost broke.

You two definitely sing some sort of song together. Maybe Angel or Vaggie joins.

He cuddles you and hides you with his wings.

If you give him baby doe eyes, he might just take you on a flight.

Husk is SUPER protective over you. He’s very similar to Vaggie in a way when it comes to protection.

He gives you good advice but he still hides behind his tough guy exterior.

He doesn’t understand why you’re down here, even if you tell him. You’re so sweet!

Either way, he adores you.

He loves patting your head and messing with your fuzzy ears.

Might even boop your nose once or twice.

Late night talks.

He probably talked you down from trying to commit again.

Niffty

Another tiny person! Yay!

You’re not a bad boy. She may be a psycho, but she would never call you bad.

Actually, she did once and felt bad once you cried.

She likes to hang out with you since you’re both tiny!

She cuddles and hugs you like you’re her stuffed animal.

Bug killers! Even if you don’t wanna kill bugs, she’s dragging you along anyways.

She tries to hide her needle from you since Husk told her what your stitches meant.

Alastor has to babysit both of you basically.

You and her do almost everything together! You’re best friends!

She sneaks into the kitchen and grabs you both snacks so you can watch a movie.

She makes you sleep in her bed sometimes so she can cuddle you.

Sir. Pentious

He’s a dad. Or, he was.

He treats you like he wishes he treated his son before he passed.

He acts like your father. An awkward father, but he still tries.

He also protects you.

Expect him to curl his tail around you and cuddle you when you’re sad.

He literally cried when you told him your story.

He tells you anytime he can that it’s not your fault. Your stitches are still beautiful.

Best girl dad ever.

Buys you anything he wants, even if he’s broke. (Except sharp things)

He teaches you some things about inventing!

You made him a little metal flower and he was so overjoyed. He took it with him everywhere.

He still remembers you, even if he’s in Heaven now.

Cherri Bomb

Chaotic auntie energy.

She would do ANYTHING for you.

She picks you up and places you on her hip like a baby.

She loves your ears! She also adores how sweet you are.

She wouldn’t admit it, but you’re the cutest thing she’s ever seen.

Even if you tell her your story, she wouldn’t see you differently. You’re a child, a child who went through so much.

Hangouts with her and Angel are a MUST.

They try to avoid doing the normal around you and focus on fun time.

She took you with her when she had a territorial fight one time and you almost cried.

She felt so bad that she bought you anything you wanted for a week.

She did anything you wanted to do, even if Husk or someone else said no to you.

Basically, if you wanted something, you went to her.

Alastor

He’s not one to like kids, really.

He was, however, kinder to you.

He did anything to protect you.

He was like your insane uncle.

He was the one who taught you how to use your abilities. Maybe to help you, or to manipulate you when you grow.

He made you jambalaya once and it became your favorite dish to share with him!

He introduced you to radio and he was happy that you loved it.

He started bringing you to his studio whenever he did a radio show.

He took you to an overlord meeting once. That’s how you met Rosie.

He pats your head like a dog lol.

Don’t expect him to be emotionally available. But he will be there to have fun sometimes.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Fixer Upper

ALASTOR x (F)READER Summary: Someone dared to break Alastor's precious radio and his wrath is inconsolable. But turns out you may have some small tricks up your sleeve. Warnings: NONE For the dearest @anon-of-the-void. My darling, it is a pleasure as always to write these for you.

In the bustling chaos of the Hazbin Hotel, where demons sought redemption amidst the fiery chaos of Hell, an unlikely friendship blossomed. Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, found solace in the presence of Y/N, an inventive soul from the Victorian Era who had found herself amidst the peculiar denizens of the underworld.

Y/N was a tinkerer, always tinkering away in her workshop, concocting gadgets and gizmos that would make even the most adept engineers marvel. Alastor, with his vintage charm and macabre wit, found her creations fascinating, and the two formed an unusual bond over their shared love for innovation.

One fateful day, disaster struck when Alastor's beloved old-time radio, his prized possession from his living days, broke down. The demon was devastated, his usual jovial demeanor clouded by a rare display of anger. The residents of the hotel trembled in fear, knowing the havoc that could be unleashed if the Radio Demon's rage remained unchecked.

Alastor's crimson eyes blazed with fury as he prowled the halls of the Hazbin Hotel, his usual jovial smile replaced by a menacing snarl. The residents cowered in fear, whispering among themselves as they caught glimpses of the Radio Demon's wrathful form.

"You there!" Alastor's voice boomed, sending shivers down the spines of those unfortunate enough to cross his path. "Do you have any idea of the inconvenience of my beloved radio breaking? The nerve, the audacity!"

Niffty, the hyperactive cleaner demon, spoke with a frantic passion as she viewed the mangled radio."Alastor! I'll do it! Let me clean it please!"

Alastor's laughter rang out like a chilling melody, sending a chill through the air. "Oh, my dear Nifty, no thank you. This requires some…interrogation but feel free to clean up the aftermath."

Angel Dust, lounging lazily on a nearby couch, scoffed, "Oh, lighten up, Al, it's just a stupid radio. Besides, it's not like anyone listens to your old-timey tunes anyway."

The room fell silent as Alastor's gaze bore into Angel Dust, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. "Is that so, my dear Angel? Perhaps I should demonstrate the consequences of underestimating the power of music."

With a snap of his fingers, Alastor summoned a spectral microphone, its ethereal glow casting eerie shadows across the room. "Now, let's see who's laughing when I unleash the full force of my wrath upon this wretched offender!"

The residents of the Hazbin Hotel trembled as Alastor's menacing laughter echoed through the halls, knowing all too well that when the Radio Demon was in a foul mood, no one was safe from his terrifying fury.

As fear spread throughout the hotel, Y/N knew she had to act swiftly to quell the storm brewing within Alastor's heart. Ignoring the warnings of her peers, she clandestinely snatched the broken radio and retreated to her workshop, determined to restore it to its former glory.Under the cover of night, she stealthily crept into Alastor's room, her pockets filled with tools and determination. With deft hands, she dismantled the broken radio, each cog and wire familiar to her skilled touch.

Hour after hour, Y/N toiled away, her nimble fingers dancing across the delicate machinery. With each adjustment and tweak, the radio gradually came back to life, its familiar crackle filling the air once more. But as the night wore on,  fatigue gnawed at Y/N's bones, her eyelids growing heavy with exhaustion. But she pressed on, fueled by determination and a desire to see her friend smile once more.

Finally, with a soft click, the radio sprang to life, emitting a crackling sound before filling the room with the familiar strains of vintage jazz. Y/N let out a sigh of relief, a triumphant smile gracing her lips as she admired her handiwork.

But as she stood there basking in her success, fatigue finally caught up with her. With a yawn, she sank into a nearby chair, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep claimed her.

Unbeknownst to her, Alastor had been silently watching from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he observed Y/N's tireless efforts to fix his broken radio. When he saw her succumb to exhaustion, a pang of concern tugged at his heart, softening the edges of his usually stoic demeanor.

Quietly, he approached her slumbering form, his footsteps barely audible against the creaking floorboards. Gently, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch light as a feather.

"My dear Y/N," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. "Such devotion, such selflessness. You truly are a marvel."

A warmth blossomed in Alastor's chest as he watched her sleep, a feeling he couldn't quite put into words. For the first time in centuries, he felt something akin to tenderness stirring within him—a feeling he realized with a start was nothing short of admiration.

With a soft sigh, Alastor leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N's forehead before picking up her form and striding over to his bed; tucking her in with the utmost care. As he stood there in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the quiet hum of the fixed radio and the soft breathing of his friend, he knew at that moment that he was irrevocably touched by her kindness.

And as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Alastor silently vowed to cherish and protect Y/N, for she had not only fixed his broken radio but had also managed to mend something far more precious—his wounded heart.

The next morning dawned upon the Hazbin Hotel, the air tinged with a sense of relief as the residents basked in the knowledge that Alastor's beloved radio had been fixed. Alastor strode into the lobby with a confident swagger, his usual grin plastered on his face. With a flick of his wrist, he turned on the radio, the familiar crackle of static filling the air before giving way to the melodic strains of love songs from a bygone era.

The residents exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion evident as they listened to the unexpected playlist. Angel Dust raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Well, well, looks like someone's feeling a bit sentimental today."

Alastor's grin widened, though there was a hint of something softer lurking beneath the surface. "Ah, my dear Angel, music has a way of stirring the soul, don't you think?"

As the love songs continued to play, the other residents couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth wash over them. Even the gruffest demons found themselves tapping their claws to the beat, caught up in the unexpected romance of it all.

But as Alastor's gaze lingered on Y/N, who stood among the crowd with a shy smile, a wave of realization washed over him. It wasn't just any love songs he was playing—it was a silent declaration of his growing affection for the inventive soul who had captured his heart.

And as the music filled the room with its sweet melody, Alastor couldn't help but feel a surge of hope coursing through him. Perhaps, in the midst of Hell's chaos, there was still room for love to blossom—a love that transcended time and defied all odds.

With a soft chuckle, Alastor stole a glance at Y/N, his heart swelling with newfound courage. For in that moment, amidst the gentle strains of love songs and the soft glow of morning light, he knew that he was falling—falling head over heels for the one who had fixed not only his broken radio but also the shattered pieces of his soul.

[minhosbitterriver]

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ On a rainy evening, a deepening connection unfolds between you and Hyunjin as you explore your newfound intimacy in the cozy sanctuary of your studio apartment. Amidst clumsy yet heartfelt moments, your bond blossoms into a magical dance of tenderness and desire, celebrated under the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested a little bit ago by my lovely 🌪️ Anon! I genuinely loved working on this purely for the awkwardness between Y/N and Hyunjin. I just feel like this is something that is not talked about enough, especially within the writing community. It's completely normal to be a bit clumsy and/or awkward the first time you have sex with someone — it doesn't mean that you or your partner is a virgin or is bad at it! Everyone's tastes when it comes to this is different so it might take a second to figure your partner out! And that's totally okay! Alright, anyway, requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, established relationship, it's first time Hyunjin fingers you, neither of you are virgins, it's awkward and a little clumsy at the beginning, very fluffy, please let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

It had been a Saturday to remember, one that etched itself into the tapestry of your memories, marked by the presence of Hyunjin. His charismatic charm had woven itself through your days for the past month, casting a spell of enchantment that lingered in the air. Though the span of time you had spent together might appear fleeting in the grand scheme of things, it felt as if you had experienced an entire lifetime’s worth of moments within those precious weeks.

Each shared glance carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, creating a silent dialogue that only the two of you understood. Every burst of laughter echoed like a melody, resonating with joy and warmth that filled the spaces between you. The conversations you shared, whether deep and contemplative or light and whimsical, wove a rich tapestry of connection that seemed to transcend the mere passage of days.

It was as though time itself had bent and stretched to accommodate the depth of your interactions. The moments you spent together, whether walking hand in hand through sun-dappled streets or sharing quiet, emotionally intimate evenings under a canopy of stars, left you with the impression that you had journeyed through countless experiences together in just a short while. The intensity of your bond created a sense of timelessness, making each day feel like a chapter in a beautifully unfolding story.

The day dawned under the crisp, invigorating light of morning, painting the world in hues of possibility. Hyunjin stood eagerly by your front door, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and a smile that promised adventure. The air was charged with the excitement of a day uncharted, a journey waiting to unfold as you both boarded the train bound for the newly opened museum.

As the train carried you toward your destination, a sense of exhilaration grew, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. The cityscape blurred past, a fleeting backdrop to the conversation and laughter that filled the space between you. Upon arrival, the museum revealed itself as a grand sanctuary of artistry and history, its towering facade inviting you into a world where time seemed to stand still.

Stepping inside, you were enveloped by the cool, hushed atmosphere of the museum, a place where every corner promised discovery. The labyrinthine halls stretched out before you, each exhibit unfolding like a new chapter in your shared journey. Vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and ancient artifacts beckoned you closer, igniting lively discussions and thoughtful reflections. With every step, you meandered through galleries side by side, your connection deepening as you shared insights and marvels.

The experience felt timeless, an effortless immersion into a realm of creativity and wonder. You lost yourselves in the stories etched into each piece, the artistry that transcended the mundane and spoke directly to your souls. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each moment adding a brushstroke to the canvas of your day, painting a picture of shared exploration and discovery. In that museum, amidst the echoes of history and the whispers of creativity, you found not only a deeper understanding of the world but also of each other.

After immersing yourselves in the museum's artistic treasures, you both boarded the train once more, the thrill of the day still crackling in the air between you. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath you seemed to echo the excitement of the adventure that awaited. Your destination was your favorite restaurant, a cherished haven where comfort and familiarity wove seamlessly into the fabric of its ambiance.

Upon arrival, the restaurant greeted you with its warm, inviting glow. Soft light spilled from hanging fixtures, casting a gentle radiance over the rustic wooden tables and cushioned chairs. The scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread. As you settled into your seats, the meal became more than just sustenance; it transformed into a canvas for laughter and playful banter.

Each dish that arrived at your table seemed to serve as a catalyst for shared stories and inside jokes. The vibrant colors of the food mirrored the lively exchange between you, as conversations flowed effortlessly alongside bites of deliciously crafted dishes. The restaurant’s lively bustle provided a vibrant backdrop, its hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery blending into the symphony of your shared experience.

The meal, rich with flavor and affection, was more than a mere dining experience; it was an extension of the day's joy and companionship. With each course, you both found yourselves drawn closer, the savory dishes a tangible reflection of the deepening bond between you. As you enjoyed each bite, the connection you had forged earlier in the museum seemed to be solidified, the warmth of the food and the ambiance merging to create a perfect continuation of the day's adventures.

Adjacent to the restaurant stood a quaint psychic shop, its sign casting a gentle, ethereal glow that beckoned with an almost magnetic allure. The delicate, swirling script on the sign seemed to whisper promises of mysteries and hidden truths, igniting a spark of curiosity within both of you. Driven by a shared sense of adventure and intrigue, you decided to venture inside, stepping into a world that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The interior of the shop was a treasure trove of curiosities. Dimly lit by the soft flicker of candlelight, the space was adorned with richly embroidered tapestries and shelves brimming with intriguing artifacts. The air was tinged with the heady fragrance of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of old parchment and aromatic herbs. In the center of this enigmatic realm sat the psychic, her presence as compelling as the surroundings.

Her gaze was shrouded in an enigmatic aura as she performed the reading, her eyes glimmering with an inscrutable wisdom. As she declared with a knowing smile that you and Hyunjin were soulmates, her words seemed to reverberate with an almost palpable magic. The statement hung in the air like a delicate thread, weaving itself into the fabric of your shared experience.

The psychic’s cryptic smile was met with a blend of surprise and shyness on your faces. A soft blush crept across both your cheeks, accentuating the nervous laughter that bubbled up between you. Each of you cast furtive glances away, caught between a fluttering sense of embarrassment and an exhilarating hint of delight. The moment felt like a secret dance, a playful intimacy that hung between you, adding a layer of enchantment to the day. The encounter at the psychic shop became a cherished memory, a touch of magic that lingered like a sweet aftertaste, enriching the tapestry of your shared adventure.

As the evening unfurled, you both returned to the serene sanctuary of your cozy studio apartment. The tranquility of the space embraced you like a warm hug, with the soft, rhythmic purring of your cat—curled contentedly on the nightstand—embodying the essence of home’s simple pleasures. The room was gently illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting a soothing radiance that seemed to enhance the peaceful ambiance.

In this haven of calm, you set about preparing warm tea for both of you. The aroma of the brewing tea leaves mingled with the subtle scent of the evening, creating an olfactory embrace that complemented the warmth of the space. As you poured the steaming liquid into delicate cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain was a soft, melodious counterpoint to the quietude surrounding you.

The conversation that followed was a tender and intimate exchange, your voices barely rising above hushed whispers as you both savored the serene atmosphere of the moment. Each word shared was like a caress, adding to the richness of your connection. Cradling your tea cups in your hands, you both reveled in a profound sense of contentment, the day’s adventures seamlessly blending into the gentle comfort of your shared refuge.

The evening unfolded as a quiet yet significant culmination of laughter, connection, and deepening bonds. The day’s escapades, full of vivid experiences and cherished moments, seemed to melt into the soft, welcoming embrace of your studio. This tranquil conclusion transformed the day into a cherished memory, a treasured chapter that would linger tenderly in your hearts.

As the night wore on, the rain began to fall in a steady, soothing rhythm, each droplet creating a symphony of tranquility against the windows. The gentle patter of the rain became a serene backdrop to the evening's unfolding events, wrapping your world in a cocoon of calm. Within the comforting familiarity of your bedroom, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

You extended an invitation to Hyunjin, offering him a place beside you on the bed, a gesture that had become second nature over the short time you’ve been together. Yet tonight carried a different energy, a palpable shift that neither of you could ignore—evident in the way Hyunjin’s heavy eyes followed your every move. The ambiance was charged with an emerging affection, an electric undercurrent that seemed to hum softly in the space between you.

Each fleeting glance you shared was laden with unspoken emotions, eyes conveying what words could not. The subtle brush of skin against skin felt like sparks igniting a fire, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your quiet conversations, spoken in hushed tones, wove a delicate tapestry of words and sentiments, each one deepening the connection you felt.

In the stillness of your home, every moment seemed to heighten the sense of anticipation. The rain's gentle cadence matched the rhythm of your hearts, beating in sync as if to the same unspoken melody. The space between you felt charged, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to a deeper intimacy that was steadily approaching, its arrival inevitable and eagerly awaited.

The night continued to unfold in this gentle yet intense dance of emotions, the rain outside acting as a serenade to your evolving bond while you prepared your bed for the night. Each moment spent together was a testament to the growing affection that had blossomed between you, transforming the ordinary into something exquisitely profound. In that cozy sanctuary, under the spell of the night and the rain, you both felt the irresistible pull toward a connection that promised to be as enduring as the rhythmic rain itself.

The tension between you both thickened as you handed him a t-shirt he had intentionally left behind during a previous visit. The fabric of the shirt, worn soft and familiar, passed from your hands to his with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken significance. As soon as he grasped the shirt, a spark of unspoken urgency ignited between you. His lips met yours with a fervor that had been quietly simmering throughout the day, an electric connection that surged with the intensity of all the emotions you had harbored.

The kiss was a profound mingling of longing and desire, a tangible culmination of the feelings that had been building in the quiet spaces between you. It was as if the very essence of the day’s shared moments converged in this single, impassioned exchange. 

Even amidst this deep connection, an endearing awkwardness lingered in the air. As you both clumsily undressed each other, your movements were hesitant and unpracticed, yet brimming with sincerity. Nervous laughter bubbled up between you, a symphony of shared amusement that softened the intensity of the moment. Your hands fumbled gently, each touch a mix of tender care and uncoordinated eagerness, creating a dance of intimacy that was both innocent and heartfelt.

Your gaze remained locked on his dazed eyes, the unspoken emotions between you speaking volumes. Every brush of your fingers, every accidental graze, was charged with a sense of wonder and discovery. The garments fell away piece by piece, leaving you both in only your underwear, vulnerable and exposed yet completely at ease in each other's presence.

The path to the bed was a journey marked by stumbles and shared glances. Each step was a testament to the raw and unrefined nature of your intimacy, a beautiful reminder of the genuine connection you were forging. The nervous energy between you added a layer of charm to the moment, making each interaction feel even more precious.

As you finally reached the bed, the clumsy yet heartfelt nature of your movements only served to deepen the bond you were creating. The tender moments of hesitation and the bursts of laughter wove together, forming a tapestry of intimacy that was uniquely your own. In the gentle embrace of the night, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, you both discovered a profound sense of closeness that transcended the physical, creating a memory that would linger long after the night had ended.

This clumsy yet heartfelt interaction only added to the night's charm, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared experience. Every hesitant touch, each nervous laugh, became a delicate thread, binding you closer together. As he settled between your legs, the intimacy of the moment deepened, turning every interaction into a genuine and endearing part of your growing bond.

A breathy moan escapes your lips as Hyunjin's kisses trace a delicate path along your jaw, each touch igniting a spark of electricity. When he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver runs through you, heightening your senses. This reaction seemed to bolster his confidence, and with gentle yet assertive hands, he guided you to lay back on the bed.

As you sink into the soft embrace of the mattress, his mouth works its magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Each kiss, each caress is a jolt of pure electricity, making your heart race and your breath hitch. The intensity of his touch leaves you yearning for more, each moment an exquisite blend of anticipation and ecstasy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence. As he continues his descent, his mouth finds your hardened nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect symphony of pleasure that leaves you arching your back, pressing yourself against him.

In this intimate dance, every movement feels deliberate and profound, each touch a testament to the deep connection you share. The room around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own creation, where time stands still and nothing exists except the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined.

His kisses, like whispers of fire, trail across your skin, igniting every nerve ending with a burning desire. The magic of his mouth, the gentle yet insistent way he explores your body, leaves you trembling with need. Every breathy moan, every gasp of pleasure, becomes a part of this beautiful symphony, resonating in the quiet sanctuary of your shared space.

Your hands find the courage to wander, fingers trembling with anticipation as they begin their exploration. Every touch is an act of reverence, a slow and deliberate journey to memorize the curves and contours of his lean body. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

As your hands glide over his torso, you savor the feeling of his defined muscles, each movement a tactile symphony. Your fingertips dance over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs before drifting down to his abs. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch is mesmerizing, drawing you deeper into the intimate connection you share.

When your hands finally reach his abs, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sculpted firmness beneath your palms. The tension in his muscles, the way they contract and relax with each breath, is a testament to his strength and beauty. Your touch becomes more deliberate, a silent communication of desire and admiration.

As you move lower, your fingers find his hardened core, and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The sound is intoxicating, a blend of need and pleasure that fuels your own arousal. He pushes his hips into your hand eagerly, a wordless plea for more, and you can't help but chuckle lightly at his neediness. There's something incredibly endearing about the way he responds to your touch, a vulnerability that makes him even more irresistible.

His groan resonates in the quiet room, mingling with the rhythm of your shared breaths. The intensity of his reaction sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of power and tenderness. As your hand continues to caress him, you revel in the connection between you, the unspoken language of touch and desire that binds you together.

The moment stretches into eternity, every touch, every sound, deepening the bond you share. The intimacy of your exploration, the way your hands map the landscape of his body, becomes a testament to the growing love between you. In this private sanctuary, you find a profound sense of fulfillment, a beautiful merging of souls that transcends the physical and touches the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for so long to have this moment with you,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of your shared breath. His words hang in the air, delicate and poignant, carrying the weight of anticipation and longing. You can see the depth of his emotions reflected in his eyes, a swirling sea of vulnerability and desire that makes your heart ache with a tender ache. The sincerity in his voice, the quiet urgency, speaks volumes about the unspoken yearning that has built up between you.

His words touched you deeply, a wave of emotion washing over you as you absorbed the sincerity in his voice. With a soft, reassuring smile, your hands left his already leaking length, the warmth of his arousal lingering on your fingertips. You reached up, fingers threading through his long, silken hair, feeling its softness and reveling in the intimacy of the gesture.

"Don’t ever apologize, Hyune," you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. "You’re being wonderful."

Your fingers continued their gentle journey through his hair, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to convey all the emotions you felt. His hair, smooth and luxurious, slipped through your fingers like strands of midnight silk, and you marveled at the way it framed his face, accentuating the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

The two of you lingered in a realm of shared kisses, each one deepening the connection that pulsed between you. What began as gentle explorations quickly evolved into a deliciously messy entanglement of lips and tongues, leaving both of you breathless. Droplets of shared saliva glistened on your mouths, a testament to the fervor with which you embraced each other. Every time your needy cores met, grinding against the thin barrier of fabric that still separated you, a gasp escaped your lips, mingling with his in a symphony of desire.

The friction, though clothed, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited, a mere glimpse of the pleasure that loomed on the horizon. Each grind, each press of your bodies, sent waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins at an intoxicating speed. It was an addictive rush, leaving you craving more—more of him, more of the sensations that set your skin aflame and made your heart race.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity of heated kisses and desperate touches. Your hands roamed freely, memorizing the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, and committing every inch of him to memory. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion—breathy moans, whispered names, and the rhythmic beat of two hearts caught in the throes of desire.

It wasn't long before the intensity of your need became almost unbearable. A soft, desperate whine escaped your lips, a sound that conveyed your longing and frustration. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, a testament to how thoroughly he had aroused you. Your body ached with a deep, insistent need, practically begging him for more.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desire, and you looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Hyunjin's gaze darkened with a mixture of lust and affection, his breath hitching at the sight of you so vulnerable, so open. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was both a promise and a reassurance, a silent vow that he would give you everything you craved.

As he pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your core.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his hands slid down your body, his touch igniting a trail of fire along your skin. The anticipation built with every second, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Each brush of his fingers, each lingering touch, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited. You arched into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure.

His fingers danced tantalizingly close to your drenched core, skimming over the slick heat but avoiding the sensitive places where you needed him most. The tease was exquisite yet maddening, each near-touch sending shivers of both pleasure and frustration through your body. You could feel the dampness of sweat on your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Mildly frustrated, a soft whimper escaped your lips as you reached down between your intertwined bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to where you craved his touch. The movement was driven by a mix of urgency and desperation, a silent plea for him to end the sweet torture.

He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, the sound a blend of amusement and affection that reverberated through your chest. The gentle tease in his voice only heightened your desire, making you acutely aware of how much you wanted—needed—him. Despite his amusement, he didn't leave you waiting for long.

His thumb found your clit, the touch electric and precise, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A gasp left your lips, the sensation intense and immediate. Without warning, his index finger slipped inside you, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion made you yelp in surprise, your body arching into his touch as a wave of heat surged through you.

He quickly glanced up, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and passion. The thrusts into your core halted, yet he kept his fingers buried deep inside, the sensation still pulsing through you. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a husky whisper that mingled with the heavy breaths filling the room.

You licked your lips, a slow and deliberate motion, trying to gather your composure amidst the swirling intensity. Your chest rose and fell with each pant, the air thick with anticipation and desire. You nodded, the movement gentle but assured, your body trembling slightly as you held back the urge to grind into his hand. "Yes... just please go slow when you're down there," you whispered, your voice tinged with a blend of need and vulnerability.

His eyes softened at your words, a tender smile curling at the corners of his lips. The connection between you felt almost palpable, a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded in response, his fingers beginning to move once more, but this time with a deliberate slowness that made every touch more intense.

Each movement was a study in restraint, his fingers exploring you with a gentleness that contrasted with the earlier urgency. The deliberate pace allowed you to savor every sensation, the pleasure building in slow, delicious waves. Your body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him delve deeper.

He watched you closely, his gaze unwavering, the concern in his eyes gradually giving way to a renewed desire. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, a cocoon of shared trust and passion. His other hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he continued his slow, measured rhythm.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the earlier frenzy giving way to a tender, almost reverent exploration. Your breaths synchronize, each inhale and exhale a testament to the deep connection that had formed between you. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that sent shivers down your spine, drawing out gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As he moved, his thumb brushed against your clit with a featherlight touch, sending sparks of electricity through your entire being. The slow pace allowed the pleasure to build gradually, each wave cresting higher than the last. Your hands reached out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations.

He responded to your touch, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, every sensation magnified in the cocoon of intimacy you had created. The taste of him, the feel of his fingers, the sound of your mingled breaths—it all wove together into a symphony of pleasure.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, a slow burn that promised an explosive release. The deliberate pace made every touch, every caress, more poignant, the anticipation heightening your arousal. Your body arched into his touch, a silent plea for more, for everything he could give.

His fingers moved with a steady, unerring rhythm, guiding you towards the edge with a skill that made your heart race. The slow, deliberate thrusts were interspersed with gentle caresses, the combination driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your moans grew louder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a final, deliberate thrust, the tension within you snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small space, your vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure sensation.

He held you through it all, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure. The aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you breathless and sated. As the intensity faded, you clung to him, your body still humming with the remnants of ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the room was filled with a quiet, almost sacred, stillness. You looked up at him, your heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that this moment was one of many that you would cherish. The night was a tapestry of shared passion and deep connection, a journey that had only just begun.

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