#rapid tension relief

[cutejennydawson]

Escape the Stress of Everyday Life with Massage Envy

If you're looking for a way to escape from the stresses of everyday life, Massage Envy can provide the solution you're looking for. With a variety of massage services and special treatments, Massage Envy can help you relax, unwind, and rejuvenate. Here are some of the ways massage envy can provide an escape for you:

Massage Therapy

Massage therapy is a great way to escape from the stresses of everyday life. With a variety of massage techniques to choose from, including Swedish, deep tissue, and trigger point, you can customize your experience to meet your individual needs. Massage therapy can help reduce stress, relieve pain, and improve overall well-being.

2. Aromatherapy

Aromatherapy can provide an escape for your senses. With a variety of essential oils to choose from, you can customize your experience to suit your mood and needs. Essential oils like lavender and peppermint can help promote relaxation and ease stress, while eucalyptus and tea tree can help promote healing and boost the immune system.

3. Total Body Stretch

Total body stretch is a great way to escape from the physical tensions of everyday life. This treatment is designed to improve flexibility, mobility, and posture. A massage therapist will work with you to gently stretch and lengthen the muscles throughout your body, helping to reduce pain and improve overall well-being.

4. Rapid Tension Relief

Rapid tension relief is a great way to escape from chronic pain and tension headaches. This treatment uses a handheld device that delivers vibration therapy to help ease muscle tension and reduce pain.

5. Hot Stone Envy

Hot stone envy is a great way to escape from muscle tension and stress. This treatment uses heated stones to apply pressure to key points on the body, helping to ease muscle tension and promote relaxation.

With a variety of massage services and special treatments to choose from, Massage Envy can provide the escape you're looking for. Whether you're looking to reduce stress, relieve pain, or improve overall well-being, Massage Envy can customize a treatment to meet your individual needs. Don't wait any longer - book your escape today and experience the many benefits of massage therapy!

[ireneispunk]

Duty

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

After a rough start to your marriage, whispers from the palace cause you and your betrothed to start what you should have done months ago; produce an heir.

w.c: 1487

c.w: SMUT 18+, NO use of Y/N, not exactly enemies but y'all beefing, hate sex (if you squint, but more like dislike sex and its more just sass idfk), mention of pregnancy, breeding kink, afab reader, p in v sex, fingering, overstimulation, pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so i recently watched the queen charlotte bridgerton spin off and i absolutely loved it, this is very inspired by charlotte and george's earlier dynamic tee hee.

Four months and 3 days. That is how long it has been since your wedding, and how long you have loathed your husband. The two of you were not exactly close before your betrothal on account of the rapidness of it but the tensions that spread between parts of his family did not help. You both seem to fight every conversation you had thereafter, so it became easier to avoid each other. That was until around 3 months into your betrothal that questions of when you would need your dresses altering had you worried. You were supposed to making heirs but you both exploded whilst in the same room as each other.  You’d visited the prince in his separate room and communicated the issue, he was reading by the fire. You played with your fingers in your hands as he eyed the flaw, thinking intently. He placed his book face down on the table as he petted the bench beside him. You hesitated for a moment, before sitting next to him. “Once a week, we will fulfil our, uh, duty to try and produce an heir. Once you are with child we will stop.” You thought for a moment, before nodding. You couldn’t help but feel your heart sink. This was not what you had wished for in your marriage. Jacaerys was a painfully handsome man, dark curls that framed he chiselled features.

“It is the end of the week today, your grace.” You spoke, not fully considering the implications of the statement. But the quicker your belly was full the better.

He turned to you, hesitated for a moment before moving closer to you and pulled you onto his lap. You were surprised by the sudden closeness of someone, let alone your husband. He looked up from beneath you with a glimmer of what he had on your wedding night, without the naïve hope. His hands slid up from your hips to the bust of your dress, he looked into your eyes before giving the bodice of your dress a quick tug down allowing your breast to spill out. You gasped as his hands cupped over your breasts, massaging them before running a thumb over your nipple. You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you felt a warmth spread over your body. You didn’t dare look him in the eye, keeping your eyes shut or trained on the ceiling. You felt as one hand left your breast and hike up your dress further up your hips. He sighed to himself slightly, at the sight of your exposed cunt. He could not believe his luck the first time he had saw you. You were quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and unfortunately that did not change the more you both disliked each other. If anything, it grew. Seeing you from across the room at formal engagements, gluing to his side when you needed to seem like the happy couple. It made the frustrations between the two of you even more palpable over the past few months, given the lack of relief. You opened your eyes to see his dark eyes looking up at you. He brought his two first fingers up to your lips, “Open.” His soft tone contradicted the demand and look upon his face. His fingers slid into your mouth, gliding across your tongue as you closed your lips around them. Out of sheer lust you grinded your hips against him, needing to feel some release and gaining small jolt at the feeling of your cunt rubbing against his clothed cock. His free hand shot to your waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He removed his fingers from your mouth, admiring his spit covered fingers for a moment before they reached between your thighs and lightly grazed across your clit. You jolted, leaning forward to grip the bench behind him.

You could not stop the moan that escaped your mouth as his fingers slowly ran circles across your clit. He smirked as the noises that fell from your lips, knowing how much you couldn’t bare to be around him but fell apart in his arms was a satisfying feeling.  “I did not know you were so needy, dear wife.” The honorific felt like a pin prick. Insincere and laced with sarcasm.

Despite the tightening growing in your stomach, you could not let him have the final word as usual. “You hadn’t been paying close enough attention, your grace.” A flash of frustration flashed upon his face as his hand moved to grip your hair and fingers plunged inside of you. A gasp left you as his fingers thrusted deep inside of your cunt, you had gone from strolling towards an orgasm to being thrown at it. The tips of his fingers curled slightly, deliciously massaging that spot inside your pussy that drove you wild. You jaw fell open, eyes going wide at the loss of contact when he removed his fingers from you. You went to protest before seeing his cock in his hands, brows furrowed as he stroked the length.

You couldn’t hold off any longer before you took a hold of his wrists and pushed his hands away to his sides. You took his cock into your hand giving it a few pumps, watching an expression of lust spread across his face. You leaned over slightly, letting a ball of spit leave your lips and watch as it slid down his cock. He hissed, returning his hands to your hips pulling you closer to him. You took the hint, angling his cock towards your pussy, rubbing the tip over your clit for your own pleasure a few times, before lining him up and sliding down slowly, a large groan left his lips as be bottomed out inside of you. You had forgotten just how big his cock was, and just how good it had felt filling you up. You began to raise your hips up and down, moans leaving your lips as you did. You worked at a steady pace but after being accustomed to his hands began to push up and down with the movements of your hips moving you faster. Your fingernails dug into his shoulders as he pounded into you, no matter how much your stifled your moans, you gave him the satisfaction of them loudly leaving your lips. His hand reached up to yours, removing it from his shoulders and moving your fingers between your legs. You immediately got his instruction, fingers latching onto your clit. You worked tight circles into it as you got filled over and over with Jacaerys’ cock. A familiar tightness returned to your stomach as your head dropped back and numerous illicit words left your lips. Recognising your peak, he pulled you forward by your thighs, almost pressing your bodies against each other as he quickened his pace. Your orgasm cascaded over you, feeling your pussy tighten around Jacaerys’ cock and your body buzz from the overstimulation. You rode out your high atop of him, watching as his eyes screwed shut and his thrusts became sloppier.

You took the opportunity to return your knees to the bench either side of him and bob your hips up and down as fast as you could. His fingers reached the lip of the bench gripping it until his knuckles turned white. “Mmm, my grace,” You moaned out. His eyes shot open, his heart pounding at your remark. “Please fill me with your seed.” You pleaded and moaned, half doing it for a reaction, half because it felt too good. His jaw hung open in shock for a split second before he sputtered a moan from his lips, hips snapping into yours. You felt satisfied as a warmth filled your pussy. Your hips moved slightly, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you still. His hand shot to your hip, mumbling something, before you placed your hand flat across his chest. You bobbed a few more times on his cock, being sure to be as full as possible with his cum. You smirked to yourself seeing his head throne back, lip quivering, veins prominent in his hands gripping your waist, sweaty curls sticking to his neck. You slowly raised yourself off of his cock, standing to your feet and trying to mask your wobbliness as adjusting your dress.

You stole a glance his way, admiring his beauty before he spoke and ruined it. He panted through his mouth, arms outstretched over the sides of the bench. You smirked to yourself, admiring how he too had crumbled for you. The opening of his doorhandle caused him to call your name from behind you. You glanced at him and smiled. “Goodnight your grace, see you in seven eves’.” He opened his mouth to response, but you had already shut the door behind you. You hoped it would be sooner before he fucked you again.

[kittenintheden]

When I Think About You

surprise jorkin it PWP fic drop lol. enjoy.

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion/Reader (You) Word Count: 1550 Content: 18+, jealousy, voyeurism, masturbation, mutual masturbation (sort of?), pillow humping, gender-neutral Tav/Reader

AO3 Link

You went to bed early tonight.

Well, earlier than you typically do. Not that Astarion has been paying you much attention. Hardly any, really. You’re just easy to miss.

Notice. You’re easy to notice. Because you’re so obvious.

Obviously annoying, obviously infuriating, obviously determined, and obviously infatuated with him. True, that had been his goal, but hells, you could blush a little less at his come-ons. Even if it does look cute on you.

Not that he thinks you’re cute. Not really.

The others are packing up their gear and turning in for the night. Astarion will take first watch like he typically does, have a quick trance, and get up in the early morning hours for a hunt. Easy. Routine.

So what if he’s falling into a routine with these people. It makes things simpler.

He should check on you. Just to make sure you’re not ill. For his health more than yours. These days, a headache could mean a rapid onset of calamari face. He’s doing everyone a favor, honestly.

When he approaches your tent, his steps slow to a stop as his ears pick up noise from inside your tent. You aren’t asleep.

And by the sound of it – and it’s a sound Astarion knows well – you aren’t alone.

He huffs an irritated breath through his nose. Gods damn it. He really thought he had you in the bag. There’s a shard of something sharp lodged beneath his rib. Annoyance, probably. Disappointment that he’s back to square one. Bitterness that he lost another competition, even when he’s doing what he does best.

Astarion turns to walk away. Takes three steps. Stops. Turns his head back toward the sound.

Who is it?

Who are you with?

He has his suspicions, but might as well take a quick peek to verify. His steps as he approaches are catlike. Not that you’d notice anyway, preoccupied as you are. He won’t look much. Only enough to see who stole his prize.

His mark. Who stole his mark.

Astarion pauses at the far side of your closed tent flap and finds a gap in the cloth. He leans in, eyes keen in the dark, and his mouth goes dry when he sees your hips grinding against someone, the length of your body pressed tight to theirs while you move over them. A blanket covers you both, but it doesn’t hide the passion of your movement.

He jerks his head away, a ball of tension aching in his gut. Ridiculous. He should go kill something. He walks toward the woods.

And stops with a sigh.

Astarion hates himself for it, this burning curiosity to know exactly who you’re riding so enthusiastically. Steeling himself, he creeps back and peeks once more through the split in the fabric.

You’re sitting up, now, showing him the long line of your spine in the center of your bare back as your hips continue to work. Every puff of breath through your lips is desperate, occasionally lilting up in a breathless moan.

Astarion worries his lip between his teeth. The muscles beneath your skin ripple, your blood thrumming so close and smelling so much of you, sweetened with the scent of arousal. If you’d just lean a little one way or the other, he could see who’s working you so… so…

There’s a flash of heat in his core followed by a sparking current of electricity, setting everything alight. He’d been doing his best to ignore the steady swell of his cock, but ignoring it is no longer an option as he goes hard as stone, the length of him straining toward his hip bone. Subconsciously, he cants his hips into the empty air and finds absolutely no relief. He has to swallow back a soft moan of his own.

The rolling globes of your arse are shaped perfectly beneath your thin wool blanket. Sharp, rocking thrusts against your playmate, against whichever lucky wretch currently feels the sticky heat of you while he watches.

Astarion lets his hand drift to the front of his breeches and sucks his breath in through his teeth when his palm grazes firmly over the covered head of his cock.

 You run a hand up your side and feel your own chest, maintaining your rhythm as you whimper.

Astarion’s fingers move to loosen his laces, lips parted as he begins to softly pant.

Your hand moves back down and you’re… yes, you’re putting your fingers between your legs, and you throw your head back with a gasp.

His fingers dip below his waistband and he curls in on himself with a huff as he takes himself in hand and begins to pump. Once, twice… ah, gods, that’s nice.

Though being under you would be even nicer.

Lucky sod. Who is it?

The blanket slips down over the curve of your arse, falling to one side and his breath catches as he realizes he’s about to get his answer.

Fabric falls aside and your incredible arse is grinding back and forth. You’re riding yourself to absolute delirium with…

A spare bedroll.

Astarion’s hand stutters to a stop and he doesn’t even breathe as realization hits him. You weren’t with someone else at all. The whole time, you’ve been furiously fucking yourself, grinding needily against your bedding for relief.

And somehow, some way, that makes him even harder. He mouths “oh, fuck” and goes back to stroking himself with renewed vigor. 

You’re desperately aroused, no longer trying to quiet your whimpers as you work your hips in circles against the bedroll while you rub yourself at the same time, your shoulders flushed with need. Your body undulates in wave after wave and Astarion feels quite certain that if he were inside you right now, he’d have come already. He puts his free hand over his mouth, pressing his palm to his lips to keep quiet.

You make a frustrated noise and swing your leg off the bedroll, and for a brief alarming moment, Astarion thinks you’re about to give up, and there’s no way he could let that stand. For either of you.

But then you shove the bedroll away with a huff and flop onto your back without opening your eyes, which is good news for Astarion, since you’d almost certainly see the silhouette of him outside your tent if you were paying attention. Instead, you spread your legs wide and give him a glorious view as one hand returns to its place between your legs and is quickly joined by the other.

Astarion shudders out a breath, the sound thankfully masked by your own rapid pants as you stroke yourself with one hand and trace around your entrance with the other. When you push two fingers inside and begin to pump in and out, Astarion’s knees threaten to give out as he picks up his pace. The tide of pleasure in his core rises and threatens to crest.

Gods, gods, he isn’t even fucking you and you’re still going to make him come before you do.

Your pretty little moans are too much. Your furrowed brow, your flushed cheeks, the way your thighs twitch and your belly shivers with the pleasure you’re lavishing on yourself. What a beauty you are, what a treat, what a-

“-arion,” you whisper, so quietly that he nearly misses it.

“Hah,” he breathes, his pleasure shuddering right on the edge of its peak. His mind must’ve filled that in. There’s no way you said what he thought you said.

He presses his face to the split in the fabric and leans against the tentpole, jerking himself firmly as he watches you arch your back up off the ground, lifting your hips into the air again, again, again, until your hands slow.

“Oh, Astarion,” you whisper just before you slam back down to earth and groan out your release, your slick making your skin shine in the low light.

“Sh-”

Astarion slams his hand over his mouth and ducks to the side, sinking silently to the ground around the corner of your tent just before he creams himself, a pulse of spend striping the ground beneath him, followed by another, and another. His head hangs heavily before him as he catches his breath and dazedly tries to piece together what the fuck just happened.

He sits back, chest heaving and ears ringing.

Then whips his head to the side when he hears you stir inside the tent and tentatively say, “... Hello? Is someone there?”

Astarion holds his breath, which does not help with his current state of floaty lightheadedness.

Then you say, “... Astarion?”

And the sound of his name on your lips sends another ripple of pleasure through him as his cock pulses and drips one last time for good measure.

It takes a minute, but you eventually convince yourself you were hearing things and settle down to sleep, presumably in a more relaxed state than when you first retired. Astarion waits until your breathing slows before he sneaks away, silently tucking himself back into his clothes.

He holds his breath the entire time.

On the other side of camp inside the safety of his own tent, he releases it in a rush, running his unused hand through his curls as realization finally catches up to him.

“Oh, no,” he whispers.

[winxanity-ii]

LIKE WHAT YOU SEE?

ship: fashion designer!gojo x fem!model!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimualtion; p in v ; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos) word count: 6.6k (i'm gagged cuz i swear it wasn't that many words as i was typing 😭😭💀) A/N: Hey, bubbly-bear! just wanted to let you know i've moved from my my alt account to my main one, so i'm posting your request here…

Request:Hello! I had a lil gojo x reader idea but if you aren’t vibing with it please dont feel like you have to write it, or change it how you see fit! BUT I feel like Guess (ft. Billie E.) By Charlie xcx is so Gojo coded and I would love to see a fic based off of it if possible :)

p.s. mwaaaaahhhhh, thx you so much for being my first request, hope i did you justice 😩✨

This line from the song just stood out to me and i just had to write it:

I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it Pull it to the side and get all up in it Kiss it, ride it, can I fit it?

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

"Turn your head like that—yes, perfect! Raise your chin a little more. Hold it!" The head photographer's voice cut through the organized chaos, every word precise and demanding. "Lighting! Can we adjust the back light, it's catching too much glare!" Another barked command as assistants scurried to fix the harsh spotlight casting an overexposed halo on you. "Makeup! Fix the lipstick; it's smudged." The pace had been relentless, as it always was on set. The camera had clicked, capturing each second of your endurance, but all you could focus on was the way your body ached.

Your feet, crammed into designer heels, screamed for relief, and your back burned from holding poses longer than it felt natural. You shifted your weight slightly, hoping no one noticed as the clicks of the camera went on like rapid fire.

"Alright, people, ten-minute break!" Finally, the head photographer clapped his hands, giving everyone the much-needed signal to stop.

A bell rang faintly in the background, and your shoulders slumped as you let out a groan.

You dropped the strained pose you had been holding for what felt like an eternity. You rolled your neck, feeling the tension snap and release in your joints.

The lights dimmed slightly as Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji sauntered over from the swimwear shoot, and you couldn't help but notice how their outfits screamed for attention—both in completely different ways.

Nobara was in a skimpy two-piece swimsuit, the top barely enough to cover her small bust, accentuating her slim waist. The delicate straps dug into her skin as she pulled at them, clearly annoyed, though the outfit highlighted her toned frame with every step she took.

The bottom piece clung to her hips, just barely covering enough to maintain some modesty, with high-cut sides that emphasized her long legs.

Despite the discomfort written across her face, Nobara moved with confidence, her slender figure not going unnoticed by the photographers still milling around.

She scrunched her nose. "This swimsuit is killing me," she muttered, fingers fidgeting with the ties around her waist. "Honestly, whose idea was it to make swimwear this uncomfortable?"

Yuji, in contrast, had an air of ease about him, rocking a pair of matching swim trunks that coordinated with Nobara's outfit—an intentional design that somehow made their shoot feel like a playful, couples-themed editorial.

His bare chest gleamed under the studio lights, each of his perfectly sculpted abs on display as though carved by a sculptor. His body was toned yet muscular, the kind of physique that didn’t need fancy clothes to stand out.

With sun-kissed skin and that infectious grin, Yuji could have made wearing anything look effortless.

"C'mon, Nobara, we don't have that much longer. Besides, you look great," Yuji said, his voice lighthearted as always.

Nobara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, says the guy who could wear a trash bag and still smile like it's no big deal."

You let out a quiet chuckle as Yuji gave you a wink before being called away to review some of the shots. He shot you a playful smile over his shoulder as he walked off, his broad back flexing slightly under the pressure of moving around in the hot lights.

"Ugh, I swear, if Yuji keeps this up, I'm going to barf," Nobara muttered, shaking her head as she sidled up next to you, arms crossed over her chest.

The two of you made your way toward the refreshments table, where the scattered models and assistants buzzed like bees around a honey pot.

You could feel the material of your own outfit shift as you moved, the delicate knitted vest you wore slightly hugging your upper body. It was all part of the 'clean girl' aesthetic your stylist had chosen for you—a knitted cream-colored vest over a crisp white blouse, paired with a pleated schoolgirl skirt that swayed with every step.

It was simple, yet chic—the kind of outfit that made you feel both elegant and casual at the same time.

Yet, despite its light, airy look, the long hours standing in the heels were starting to make your feet scream. The snug fit of the vest only heightened the strain on your tired muscles, adding to the sense of exhaustion.

Nobara leaned in closer, her eyes gleaming as if she was about to share the juiciest tidbit of gossip she had yet. "So, did you hear about Kaori and that photographer? Apparently, they got caught in one of the back dressing rooms."

You raised a brow, barely hiding your amusement. "Kaori? The one who's been eyeing everyone since day one?."

"Oh, and you didn't hear this from me," Nobara continued, lowering her voice even more, "but Sumi told me that Yuji's been getting cozy with that new model, Megumi. You know, the quiet one? Well, they—"

You groaned, cutting her off. "Don't you ever get tired of knowing all the messy things?"

Nobara rolled her eyes dramatically, her lips curling into a smirk. "Never~" she said, before nodding toward the side entrance. Her voice took on a mischievous edge as she added, "Just like I know you never get tired of denying that your new stylist wants to fuck you."

You practically choked, your eyes widening as the words hit you. "W-What?" you sputtered, your face heating up. You let out a shaky laugh, then coughed, trying to gather yourself. "Stop saying that…"

Nobara's smirk only grew wider, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Oh, come on. The man practically undresses you with his eyes every time he's around. You can't tell me you don't notice the way he looks at you. The man's got designs on more than just your clothes, babe."

The heat in your cheeks deepened, and you averted your gaze, unsure how to respond.

It was hard to deny that your stylist's hands lingered just a bit too long during fittings, or that his gaze seemed a little too intense when he adjusted the fabrics on your body.

The clean, tailored looks he designed for you always felt more intimate than the pieces he created for other models. But surely, it was just part of his meticulous nature, right?

"I-It's just professional," you stammered, glancing down at the drink in your hand, trying to focus on something—anything—other than the growing knot in your stomach. "He's focused on the designs, Nobara. That's it."

Nobara snorted, giving you a knowing look. "Yeah, okay. If by ‘designs’ you mean figuring out how to get under your clothes, then sure. But I mean, I'm not complaining. If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck him."

Before you could respond, a shadow fell over you both, and you didn't need to look up to know who it was. You felt his presence before you saw him.

There, leaning casually against the side of the refreshment table, was Gojo Satoru, the man in question.

His signature smirk played on his lips as those piercing, ice-blue eyes of his scanned over you over his shades, and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze as it lingered on your skirt.

"Ladies," Satoru drawled, his voice smooth and dripping with charm. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything too scandalous?"

Nobara raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing look before stepping back. "Oh no, nothing at all. We were just talking about your... designs," she said with a sly grin before stepping back. "Guess, I'll leave you two to it," she teased, nudging you as she walked away.

And just like that, you were left alone with him, heart racing as you met his eyes. His grin only widened, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

"So..." Satoru murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in slightly. "Anything you'd like to confess?"

Your throat went dry, and you could only shake your head, praying that he hadn't overheard Nobara's playful remarks.

But judging by the gleam in his eyes, you had a feeling he probably had.

Your heart raced as you tried to compose yourself, swallowing back the nerves rising in your throat. You forced a smile, though it felt shaky at best. "I don't have anything to confess," you said, attempting to keep your voice light. "Is there anything you need help with?"

Satoru's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming as he straightened up, his hands casually slipping into the pockets of his perfectly tailored trousers. "As a matter of fact," he drawled, "you could help me with something."

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Before you could ask what he meant, two of Satoru's assistants appeared at his side, as if on cue, each one wearing the kind of professionalism that didn't quite mask the urgency in their steps.

Without explanation, they began to gently but firmly usher you toward the changing quarters.

"W-Wait—what's going on?" you stammered, glancing over your shoulder at Satoru, who followed behind leisurely, his long strides giving him an air of complete control. "Why am I changing? I thought my shoot was almost over?"

"Oh, nothing much," Satoru sing-songed, his lips pulling into a mischievous grin. "I just had a chat with the higher-ups about pushing up the date for a few of our theme releases. Ya'know, rearranging which models get which looks."

Your confusion only deepened, and you blinked owlishly, trying to make sense of his words as you were guided toward a small room at the end of the hallway. "But—what does that have to do with—"

You trailed off as you stepped into the changing room and saw the mannequin sitting in the center. It was draped in an outfit that made your breath catch in your throat. A short leather miniskirt, sleek and shimmering, paired with a crop bodycon top that clung to the mannequin’s torso like a second skin

The entire ensemble was a bold combination of black and silver, with metallic bangles adorning the arms and a choker embedded with silver and black accents.

But what truly caught your attention was the soft sheen of baby blue that ran through the outfit—a shade that was eerily similar to the blue of Satoru's eyes.

You stared at the outfit for a moment, taking in the platform boots that completed the look, their towering heels intimidating yet alluring. The whole ensemble screamed nightlife, clubbing, a world of flashing lights and pulsing music.

It was striking, to say the least.

The assistants wasted no time, setting down various items on a nearby table while preparing the room for your quick change. But you stood frozen, blinking again as realization slowly dawned.

Satoru leaned against the doorframe, watching you with an almost lazy amusement.

"You're joking," you muttered, half in disbelief.

Satoru raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Do I look like I'm joking?"

You glanced back at the mannequin, the black and silver catching the light in a way that made the outfit seem even more eye-catching.

The baby blue accents shimmered faintly, bringing your thoughts right back to Satoru, his confident smirk and those eyes that seemed to follow your every move.

The outfit looked like it had been designed for you—and only you.

The assistants were already moving around, gesturing for you to start changing, but your mind was still reeling. "You... moved up the schedule?"

"Had a feeling this look was perfect for you," Satoru said casually, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. "Wanted to see it on you sooner rather than later."

You bit your lip, nerves fluttering in your chest as you stared at the mannequin once more.

The way Satoru's gaze lingered on you sent a shiver down your spine.

It was as if this entire thing had been orchestrated just for his amusement, his design, his vision.

The assistants handed you the top, a fitted crop that shimmered in the light, the baby blue accents standing out against the metallic silver.

You reluctantly grabbed it from them as they moved off to remove the other pieces from the mannequin.

The room felt warmer all of a sudden, like the air had thickened, and you couldn’t shake the tension prickling at the back of your neck.

You lifted your gaze only to find Satoru already staring at you, his eyes locked on yours in a way that made your breath hitch. You cleared your throat, your voice shaky as you tried to break the spell. "Shouldn't you leave? I need to change."

Instead of moving, his lips curved into that trademark smirk that always made your stomach flip. "I'll have to stay and oversee things. You know, just to make sure nothing goes wrong. I can swoop in and fix anything if needed."

Your face burned, heat rushing to your cheeks as his words lingered in the air.

You weren't naïve. You'd worked with dozens of stylists before, all of them meticulous, always staying to make sure the fit was perfect. But none of them ever made your skin tingle the way Satoru did.

None of them ever watched you like they were imagining a thousand different things beneath the clothes. And none of them ever made you feel like you were burning alive from the inside out with just a look.

Heart pounding, you turned away, hoping to escape his gaze. You began undressing, slipping out of your current outfit.

Each movement felt amplified, like you could feel the air around you, charged with tension. You reached behind yourself, trying to steady your breathing as you fumbled with the zipper.

You could practically feel his eyes on you, mapping out your body, lingering on every curve as if he could see right through the fabric.

Your skin prickled, the sensation of his gaze making it hard to even think straight. Every breath felt labored, every second stretched too long.

As you reached behind to unclip your bralette, your fingers trembling slightly, you felt a pair of hands cover yours—large, warm, and deliberate.

The shock froze you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

"Allow me to help you with that…" His voice was low, velvety, and it sent a shiver down your spine as he leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear.

The world narrowed to that moment, the heat of his presence overwhelming your senses. His fingers gently brushed against yours as he unhooked your bralette, the touch feather-light but filled with an unspoken promise.

You couldn't move, couldn't breathe, the room suddenly too small, too hot, with Satoru towering behind you, his hands so close, too close.

Every nerve in your body screamed in protest, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest as a low pulse of desire curled through your veins.

His hands slid away as he stepped back, giving you room, but the mark of his touch lingered long after he'd let go.

It left you breathless, the space between you charged with something dangerous, something unspoken that hung heavy in the air.

Satoru's smirk never wavered, his eyes still locked onto yours in the reflection of the mirror. "There..." he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. "...All done."

You stuttered out a soft, breathless, "Thank you," barely able to get the words out before Satoru turned on his heel. His presence seemed to consume the room, but as he barked an order to one of his assistants, the pressure finally lifted.

"Adjust the lighting for the next setup! And I want the backdrop changed in five minutes!" Satoru's voice rang out, sharp and authoritative. With one last glance over his shoulder at you, he strode away, leaving the room in a whirlwind of activity.

As soon as he was gone, it felt like you could finally breathe again. The air in the room cooled, the weight of his lingering presence fading, though not entirely.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you pulled the leather skirt up over your hips, the fabric snug against your skin. Satoru's assistant helped you with the bodycon top, tugging it into place, adjusting the hem and smoothing out the fabric as it clung to your curves.

The outfit was bold—almost too bold—but it fit like a second skin, highlighting every line of your body in the way only Satoru's designs could.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of camera clicks, flashing lights, and endless posing. Hours slipped by, the sun gradually lowering as the shoot continued, stretching longer than expected.

Nanami Kento, the photographer overseeing everything, was a perfectionist. His no-nonsense attitude left no room for error, and his eye for detail was unmatched.

He had insisted on waiting for the natural dusk light, arguing that it would complement the metallic sheen of your outfit and bring out the best in the overall composition.

You had worked with Kento before. His bluntness and unwavering pursuit of perfection made him a tough taskmaster, but he was one of the best in the industry.

Shoots paired with him always led to increased success. His images captured not just the clothes, but the mood, the essence of the model wearing them.

He and Satoru were at the top of their game right now, the dynamic power duo behind many successful campaigns, and you couldn't deny how they both pushed you further than anyone else ever had.

"…And… that's a wrap!" Kento's voice finally cut through the endless camera clicks, sharp and definitive. The faint ring of a bell followed, signaling the end of the shoot.

You exhaled a long, relieved breath, feeling the weight of the day lift off your shoulders.

The shoot had taken the remainder of the day, from midday to the last golden rays of dusk.

The combination of Satoru's exacting demands—making you pose in just the right way to show off the outfit—and Kento's insistence on perfect lighting meant you'd spent hours standing, twisting, and holding uncomfortable poses.

The tightness in your back and shoulders made it clear how long you had been at it. Your feet ached in the platform boots, and your muscles screamed for rest.

As the assistants began to pack away the equipment, the space slowly emptied out. The other models and staff had long since finished their own shoots and left, leaving only you and a skeleton crew behind.

The studio, once alive with chaos, was now eerily quiet, the low hum of final tasks being completed the only sound in the background.

You peeled yourself away from the set and made your way back to the dressing room, feeling the tightness of the leather skirt with every step.

The corridors were deserted now, with most of the team having wrapped up hours ago. The silence was almost jarring after the noise and flurry of the day.

You were exhausted, every muscle in your body protesting as you moved.

Finally, you reached your dressing room, the door creaking slightly as you pushed it open. The sight of the empty space—the vanity mirror now bare, clothes and shoes scattered—was a welcome relief.

The day had been long, but now you could unwind.

As you closed the door behind you, the quiet settled over you like a blanket, offering you the peace you desperately needed.

You stumbled into the room, barely keeping yourself upright as exhaustion weighed down your limbs. Practically dead on your feet, you began peeling off the clothes that had felt glued to your body for the last several hours.

The crop top slipped off first, falling to the floor with a soft thud.

You didn't care where it landed as you walked over to the couch in the center of the room, facing a large squared mirror. Each step felt like a weight being lifted from your sore muscles.

A cool draft brushed against your bare torso, making you shiver slightly as it passed over the sheen of sweat from the long day. Your fingers worked at the accessories next, unfastening the bangles around your wrists and dropping them carelessly.

The metal clanked against the floor, loud in the otherwise quiet space. You massaged your sore wrists, the cool air soothing the raw skin where the jewelry had pressed tight against you.

Your fingers then moved to the choker at your neck, tugging it free and letting it fall beside the rest, relieved to feel the soft touch of air against your throat.

Your mind began to drift, wandering somewhere far away from the chaos of the day. You thought about what you'd do when you got home.

Maybe snack on those yogurt bites you found at the grocery store earlier that week. Or maybe you can finally binge-watch that series you'd been meaning to catch up on.

The thought made you feel a little lighter.

Hell, you can even spend tomorrow doing absolutely nothing, you have nothing booked!

You were right in the middle of imagining your lazy day ahead, fingers working the clasp of your bralette, when the door creaked open behind you.

"Hey! I'm—" Your arms instinctively rose to catch your slipping bra before it could fall completely. Your heart raced, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

You looked up at the large mirror in front of you, eyes wide, only to lock gazes with Satoru, lounging casually against the doorway as if he had all the time in the world.

"—undressing," you finished, your voice dropping to a shaky whisper.

Satoru's lips curved into a faint smirk, his gaze shameless as it raked over your disheveled appearance. He tilted his head slightly, looking over his shades at the scattered accessories and top on the floor. "You know," he said, his voice light with a playful edge, "you really shouldn't leave my designs lying around like that. It's almost disrespectful."

For a moment, you thought he'd bend down to pick up the items—his creations, after all. But instead, he strolled right past them, making his way toward you.

Your breath hitched, your body freezing in place as his steps closed the distance between you.

Satoru's eyes, usually filled with playful mischief, were darker now, more intense as they followed the lines of your form.

He moved with the kind of confidence that left no room for doubt. And as he reached your side, standing just behind you, his presence loomed, filling the small space with the heat of his gaze.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the cool draft that had once been a relief now doing little to cool the flush rising across your skin.

Satoru stepped even closer, the heat radiating from him making the cool draft on your bare skin feel like a distant memory. His presence was overwhelming, filling the small room until all you could focus on was the warmth seeping from him and the way his gaze lingered on your reflection in the mirror.

"You know," he began, his voice soft, almost idle, "a lot of my best designs… they're not the ones I spend weeks perfecting." His words drifted through the air like a secret. He raised a hand, his fingertips brushing lightly against the faint indents the choker had left on your neck. The touch was barely there, yet it sent a shiver running down your spine. "No… the ones that really stand out," he continued, "are the ones that light up in my mind every time you fall into my vision."

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as he leaned in closer, his chest now just inches from your back.

The heat from his body wrapped around you like a second skin, and you watched him through the mirror, mesmerized by the intensity in his eyes as he spoke.

His hand, warm and deliberate, trailed slowly down your arm, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that felt both comforting and dangerous.

"You're my muse," he said, almost as if speaking to himself, lost in the thought. "Every second I spend watching you, seeing you wear my designs, it's nothing but inspiration." His hand continued to drift lower, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist before sliding back up, pulling you just slightly, coaxing your body into his.

Your breath grew heavier, chest rising and falling with each shallow inhale as you were drawn back against him, the solid warmth of his chest pressing into your bare back.

Your gaze flickered to the mirror, watching the scene unfold before you—his hand resting lightly on your waist, his eyes tracing the outline of your form as if committing every curve, every inch of you, to memory.

You could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your ear, and it made your head spin, your thoughts running wild.

"Every touch," he murmured, his lips brushing just above your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Every glance…" His voice dropped, becoming something darker, heavier. "I can't stop thinking about how perfectly you fit into my designs. Like you were made for them—or maybe… they were made for you."

His hand trailed down your arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and you watched him in the mirror, breath hitching in your throat. Then, his lips ghosted over your ear again, the warmth of his breath making you tremble as he purred, "But you know… I keep thinking about something else…"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you felt him shift closer, his chest now flush against your back. The air between you crackled with tension, thick and almost suffocating, and yet you couldn't pull away—you didn't want to.

His hands pressed against your waist as he lowered his voice to something almost sinful. "…How perfectly you'll fit around me."

The words slipped from his lips, dripping with raw, undeniable desire, every word reverberating through your skin, hitting you like a tidal wave. Your breath stilled in your lungs, heat coursing through your body as your mind raced.

Wait a minute—what's… b-but—

His arms tightened around you as his mouth hovered near your neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me you feel it too," he groaned, his voice low, growling with need as his fingers dug into your hips. "Tell me you want it… just as badly as I do."

Finally, your mouth seemed to catch up with your thoughts. "S-Satoru—"

Your voice once again falls away as Satoru's arms tightened around you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. You felt his chest rise and fall rapidly, pressing into your back, his grip around your waist possessive, firm.

Then, in a voice so raw, so desperate it sent a shiver down your spine, he whispered, "Can I... have you?"

The words tumbled from his lips in a near whimper, laden with a hunger that bordered on pleading. His breath hitched, his forehead brushing against the back of your neck as if even he was losing control of the space between you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, your mind trying to process everything, yet failing to hold onto any coherent thought. His words, the way they sounded so needy, left you breathless.

You watched him in the mirror, his reflection almost ghostly in the low light of the room. His eyes were half-lidded, clouded with lust as they lingered on your form, and his lips, parted slightly, looked dangerously close to speaking something sinful, something that would push you over the edge.

The room was silent except for his panting breaths in your ear. You could feel his need in the way his arms wrapped around you, in the way his fingers pressed just a little too tightly into your skin.

"Say yes..." he breathed, his voice low and pleading, his lips now trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat with every soft, almost teasing touch. "Please... just say yes."

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place as your mind blocking out everything else but Satoru.

The sound of him, the feel of him, the way his voice came out in that almost whimpering tone—it consumed you, leaving no room for anything else but him.

Finally, a breathless, barely audible "yes" escaped your lips, the word trembling from your mouth like a whimper, your resolve crumbling under the intensity of the moment.

It was as if a switch had been flipped in Satoru. His wicked smirk grew, a gleam in his eyes as he dipped his head lower, pressing a soft kiss to your neck before dragging his tongue in a slow, deliberate stripe up your skin.

The heat of his breath against your neck sent shivers racing down your spine, making your entire body tense.

"Good girl~" he purred softly into your ear, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

Before you could even catch your breath, he pulled you down onto the couch, his movements fluid and effortless. You landed in his lap, your back pressed firmly against his chest, legs bent and pulled up on either side of him, facing the mirror.

our thighs immediately began to burn from the stretch, the leather skirt you wore sliding up all the way, exposing the lace underwear beneath—the same light blue that matched the bralette you'd worn earlier.

The delicate fabric contrasted sharply with the heat of the moment, and your face flushed in embarrassment as your eyes caught the sight of a small wet patch there.

Your heart raced as you tried instinctively to close your legs, but before you could, he gently tapped your thighs with his fingers, his smirk never faltering. "Aht aht," he scolded lightly, his tone playful but firm, making it clear that he was in control.

His arms slid under your legs, lifting them slightly and pulling them farther apart.

The stretch made you gasp, thighs burning as he forced you all the way back against his chest, your body now fully reclined into him.

His grip was strong but not painful, holding you in place as his breath ghosted over the side of your face.

In the mirror, you saw it all—your legs spread wide, your flushed face, and Satoru's darkened gaze fixed on you, his expression one of total control. His was voice, low and teasing, rumbling against your ear. "Look at you... perfect," he murmured, holding you tightly against him, his arms securing you in place, his presence overwhelming.

The reflection showed more than just your vulnerability—it was the power he had over you, and the way he reveled in every second of it.

Satoru's left hand slowly trailed down your body, his touch feather-light at first, but purposeful. The cool air kissed your skin as his fingers slid beneath the waistband of your underwear, his hand pressing firmly against your most sensitive spot without pulling the fabric to the side.

The sensation made your breath hitch, and your entire body tensed as his fingers began to move, rubbing slow, deliberate circles along your slit, teasing and drawing out every bit of tension you’d been holding inside.

His fingers trailed gently up and down, gliding over your skin as if he were mapping you out, testing your every reaction. He found your clit with ease, rubbing small, teasing circles that sent jolts of heat through you, the slow rhythm making it impossible to think straight.

Your thighs twitched, the stretch around him making the sensation even more intense. The heat of embarrassment flooded through you as your body reacted, and when you turned your face away, unable to watch the reflection of what he was doing to you.

Satoru clicked his tongue softly in disapproval. "Uh-uh," he murmured, his voice dark with command. "Eyes on the mirror. Watch what I do to you."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry as your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the mirror.

His hand kept moving, the slow rhythm intensifying, the way he touched you sending waves of pleasure through your entire body. His reflection was smug, pleased, as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open and focused on what he was doing.

It was an order, and disobeying felt impossible.

When his finger slipped inside you, your body jolted slightly, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. His movements were slow, deliberate, each stroke inside you making it harder to think.

One became two, both pumping in and out of your clenching heat with a slow, deep rhythm. He kept his other arm wrapped securely around your waist, holding you in place against his chest as he worked his fingers deeper.

His breath was hot against your ear as his grip on your body tightened, his voice a low groan as he spoke. "You know what I can't wait to do?" His words sent a new rush of heat through you, and he chuckled softly at your reaction. "I can't wait to taste you... spend hours learning every inch of my muse's body. Watching you come undone again and again and again."

The promise in his voice made your mind reel, the intensity of his touch and his words leaving you breathless, your chest heaving as your pulse raced.

A particularly well-angled thrust had your back arching, a breathy moan slipping free. "That's it..." he praised, curling his fingers so they can brush against your G-spot again. "You're so wet for me... So responsive."

His thumb joined the fray, rubbing firmer circles over your clit that had your hips rolling mindlessly to meet his touch. He worked you higher and higher, stoking the flames of your pleasure until you were teetering right on the edge.

And still, he demanded you watch. Compelled you to observe the wanton display you made, his dark gaze devouring you from over your shoulder.

"Come for me," Satoru growled against your lips, his fingers pumping furiously now. "Let go. Now."

Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing your breath and whiting out your vision. You shook and shuddered in his hold, a cry of ecstasy torn from your throat as he wrung every last bit of pleasure from your spasming body.

Satoru swallowed the sound with his mouth, kissing you deeply as he continued his ministrations.

Only when you collapsed bonelessly against him did Satoru still his hand, drawing his glistening fingers from your depths. He brought them to his mouth, maintaining eye contact through the mirror as he licked them clean with a shameless moan.

"Delicious~" he purred, voice rough with satisfaction. "My perfect muse."

You felt weightless, the tension from the day—hell, the whole week—melting into nothingness as the lingering echoes of your orgasm left you in a daze. Your body felt loose, relaxed, like all the stress had finally evaporated, and for a moment, you simply existed, floating in the aftermath.

Then, you felt your thighs shift wider, and a small, confused sound escaped you before you even realized it.

Satoru's low chuckle filled the quiet room, dark and amused. "You didn’t think that was it, did you?" His voice dripped with mischief as his hands moved to adjust you in his lap. He shifted beneath you, pulling his pants down slightly as he repositioned you, pulling you higher onto his lap.

The movement pressed you closer to him, allowing you to fully feel him underneath you, hard and insistent. His hand returned to your underwear, the long digits returning to rub away at you.

The sudden pressure made your back arch instinctively, a small whimper escaping your lips from the mix of sensation—equal parts pleasure and the discomfort of being played with beyond your limit.

"Silly girl," he tutted softly into your ear, his breath warm against your skin. His hand returned to your waist, the grip firm yet tender, as he tugged your underwear to the side, filling you in one stroke.

You both froze for different reasons—your legs trembled as you felt the stretch, trying to stay tethered because he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, while Satoru groaned, overwhelmed by the tightness that enveloped him.

"F-Fuck," he groaned, his head falling back against the couch, eyes fluttering closed.

You let out a broken whimper, arms growing weak and giving out beneath you. You collapsed slightly forward, your forehead resting against his thighs as you tried to adjust, to find some relief from the pressure.

Satoru growled softly at the sight, his hands gripping your waist with more purpose. He pulled you fully down onto him, your hips flush against his.

"S-Satoru..." you moaned, your voice shaking, tears welling in your eyes as the sensation became overwhelming.

His hips jerked forward in short, deliberate movements, and your body responded, helpless to the rhythm he set. "T-that's right, baby, say my name..." he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hands guided you, pulling you back down with each upward thrust.

He lifted his hips to speed up the movements. You could only cling to his thighs, breathless and powerless against the force of his desire.

Satoru kept going, your name spilling from his lips like a prayer, filthy words laced with desire. His grip on your waist was tight, almost bruising, as he held you firmly in place.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room—wet, slick noises and the rhythmic squelching with every movement.

The intensity of the moment wrapped around you, heightening every sensation, your body overwhelmed by the pressure building inside you.

Your second orgasm was approaching too quickly, the wave of pleasure rising fast, almost too much to handle. Desperation washed over you, and you tried to scoot forward, to slow things down, but Satoru's response was immediate—he went faster, his thrusts growing erratic.

You let out a choked cry, begging for him to slow down, but he only groaned in response, his pace relentless.

The sensation was overwhelming, and then it hit you, like you were thrown over the edge. Your eyes fluttered closed as the blinding pleasure rocked your entire frame.

Your body shook, every nerve alight as the intensity consumed you. You could hear Satoru cursing under his breath as you trembled in his arms, your body a quivering mess in the aftermath.

And then you felt it—the heat of him filling you, spreading through your lower body in a rush of warmth. Satoru let out a long, drawn-out groan, pressing himself flush against you as he reached his climax. His breathing was ragged, chest heaving as he stayed close, savoring the feeling.

Before you could catch your breath or say anything, Satoru moved again. He pulled you back slightly, and you gasped, the sudden movement sending a mix of pain and pleasure shooting through you.

His hands snaked under your thighs, lifting you carefully from his lap. He groaned softly as he watched his release spilling from you, leaking out as he admired the sight.

Satoru gave a low whistle, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What a sight to see," he hummed, his voice thick with amusement. One of his hands trailed down to your entrance, his thumb gently grazing over the sensitive skin.

He played with your sticky entrance, his fingers teasing, before pressing back to plug up the fallen release. Your thighs twitched in response, a shiver running through you at the sudden sensation.

You called out his name for what felt like the third time, your voice weak but pleading. "Satoru..."

He let out a tired but satisfied chuckle, his hand pulling away as he finally relented. "Fine, fine," he murmured, lifting you effortlessly in his arms. He settled you down on his lap again, this time pulling you close to his chest, cradling you as his arms wrapped securely around you.

The warmth of his body pressed against yours, his breathing slowing as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

The night grew quiet, the tension fading into a comfortable stillness, but even as you relaxed against him, your mind wandered.

As the night went on, you couldn't help but think: Nobara was fucking right.

A/N: lolol, sorry for the influx of smut guys, promise this won't be like an everyday thinjg.... 👀 anyways, hope this was up to your standards and wasn't too bad bubbly-bear, i tried my best to make it work to the song...😭

[beneathashadytree]

LOVE YOU TO DEATH - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : slightly suggestive, making out, alcohol consumption, allusions to “sinning”/religious imagery, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : domestic fluff with lots of tension!

Word count : 4.5K words (oops…)

Additional notes : This has been a seriously long time coming🙏🏽 It was a commission made by a friend here on Tumblr, based off Type O-Negative’s song “Love You to Death”, and may or may not have gotten carried away with it (hence the delay and the absurd word count😭). Hope you like it!! And let me know what you think of this guys🫶🏽

Commissions are open!

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Masterlist

“Madame!”

The frantic call came from behind her, and with a practiced turn, she faced the red-faced man who’d been running up to her. Keeping her facial expression as placid as possible wasn’t as easy as she was trying to convince herself it was—and especially not after having spent 3 hours in a bedazzled ballroom, head splintering already from the wine and the rapid-fire conversations she’d had to entertain—but she somehow managed it. Coolly, she arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”

And though she eyed him with no disdain, her indifference was intimidating enough to force the man to swallow thickly and shift in his place. A flush had settled on his face, fueling her amusement as he took a hesitant step forward. “I… you said you were waiting for something. If… if you don’t mind, would you, well, care for a dance?”

Poor thing. He probably had no idea. She felt a little sympathetic, but her resolve was still hardened. After all, she was well aware that the only possible reason he’d deemed her fitting to approach in the first place was the fact that she was inarguably the most powerful person in the room. This was only mere exploitation, not actual admiration. His hesitation could be chalked up to intimidation. “Thank you, but I’ve got an escort.”

“But, please, you were talking about the firearms deal—!”

A rich chuckle resounded in her ear, followed by the soft smack of lips against her cheek in a kiss. Fond as that gesture was, the upwards flicker of crimson eyes was no less sharp as his gaze became directed at the overly-ambitious upstart. “I see you’re feeling rather bold tonight, Richter. Directly going for such business talks when asking for someone’s hand… a rookie mistake.” Punctuated by the hand settled on her waist, stroking over the silk, it was made more than apparent who her ‘escort’ was.

The young man’s face paled, and she couldn’t deny the twinge of enjoyment she felt as she played along with Sylus. “Indeed. Anyone else would be put off by such open exploitation.”

“But you’re not anyone, are you? I’d even say you like it when I bring up these things,” he quipped back, bringing her in closer by the waist and tucking her against him, before turning to the wide-eyed, speechless man whose trembling seemed to amuse him even more. “We’ll be off now. Be more careful next time.”

And though he said nothing more, it was clear that Sylus’ warning wasn’t just about being tactless. It was a reminder that the most poised, fanged woman in the room stood by his side, and no one else. The only secrets she’d divulge would be to him, in the confines of their own bedroom, and Richter would do well to remember it. Next time—if there ever were to be one—he’d make sure to remember it, or else he wouldn’t be as lenient.

Arm in arm, they left the stuffy ballroom together, and as soon as they were out in the open air, she heaved a sigh in relief. “Gods, I was about to suffocate. Everyone was going on and on about that deal.” Rolling her eyes, she stopped on the sidewalk to slip out of her heels, stretching her toes as they settled against the gravel. “Approached by ten different people, no less, all trying to butt in and include themselves to ensure some profit or the other.”

Within a second, Sylus had already kneeled down to take her heels, carefully twisting her ankle this way and that to try and soothe the ache of the long evening. She sighed again, and his gaze was hard as he looked up at hers. “You shouldn’t have let them bother you. You’ve got enough influence to prohibit them from ever mentioning it in front of you. And I wouldn’t mind exacting punishments in your stead.”

“A privilege I won’t be using any time soon, thank you very much.” With her heels in one hand, he began to steer her by her back with another. Frowning, she looked away from where she’d initially set her sights. “You didn’t let Luke and Kieran bring the bike around tonight for us to go on a joyride after?”

Sylus gave her a pointed look, slightly exasperated but still dyed in fondness. “Given the dress you’re wearing, I’d have to be particularly stupid to force you to hike it up to your hips to ride on. It would’ve been an entirely different thing if you’d worn one of your velvet suits, though.” Maybe he hadn’t noticed it, but his hand on her back was leaving fluttering touches and strokes over the small of her back, right where the fabric started. And maybe that was his little give-away that he enjoyed seeing every inch of exposed skin with that dangerously low-cut back.

It wasn’t long before they were sliding back into their respective seats in his sleek car. The fresh smell of new leather, cooled wine in the compartment, and something a little heady—a little him—made her grow dizzier with each second. Barely a few minutes had passed with her legs crossed when his own rough palm slipped through the slit of the dress and between her knees, gently prying them apart and gliding over the soft skin, before settling on her thigh right underneath the lace edge.

And though he’d done nothing else at all, save flicker his eyes back to her in the rear view mirror and quirk the corner of his lips upwards, squeezing her thigh before turning his attention back to the road, she felt like he’d bared a fraction of his mountain of carefully-hidden desires. And that was one mountain she knew only she had the ability to watch tremble and shake. Perhaps that was another privilege she had, standing by his side.

***

Sylus’ hands on her feet felt like a small piece of heaven made perfectly with her tired self in mind. After he’d carried her out of the car like she’d weighed nothing with her heels dangling from two of his fingers, he’d let her unlock the door with her fingerprint and quickly settled her into the couch without so much as a grunt. And soon his deft fingers were kneading at her soles, earning a hiss or two here and there that let him know he was definitely doing the right thing.

“I take it you failed to break into these new shoes,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he felt out another small knot that had been killing her the entire evening.

Groaning, she clutched at his wrist, the sudden pain sharp and unyielding. “Wasn’t exactly my priority, with so much going on. I was more preoccupied by the fact that Denise fucked up in the middle of the information chain. Had me cleaning up after her.” Despite her twitching, he went on massaging their tendons and muscles, until the frown on her face slowly morphed into a relaxed expression.

“Why do I have to keep telling you not to concern yourself with what’s beneath you?” Again, he sighed, as though it truly pained him to hear her putting herself through this, and then went on to reverently stroke at her calves, gently lifting her legs up for a second so he can take a seat in her place. “You shouldn’t have to do the dirty work. We’ve got lackeys for that.”

“You say that, but you’re really just pushing more work onto Luke and Kieran,” she scoffed, flicking his fingers away, instead pushing forward and draping herself across his lap, the slit on the side of the dress revealing more of her thigh as she did. A not-so-small part of her absolutely reveled in the way his eyes tracked her every movement, following the fabric as it slipped away and darkening with every inch of soft skin it exposed to his gaze. “And besides, I kind of like letting everyone know that I’m aware of everything going on, now and then.”

“An ego trip then?” Sylus teased, before bumping his nose with hers, hungrily taking in the catch in her breath. “Mm. Well, it’s a highly deserved one, sweetie.”

With her heart hammering in her chest, it was a wonder she could even come up with any sort of reply, let alone one with her whole heart and snark in it. “Flatterer,” she breathed out, eyes betraying her to glance at his lips, perfectly curled and awaiting her every beck and call. If she wanted to regain her senses any time soon and not completely surrender to the gaping maw of his desires, she had to pull back for a second.

And that she did, though her entire being protested to it. No disappointment marred his features; in fact, if she could call it that, she could detect a glimpse of deeper yearning burning behind his ruby eyes. “You know I don’t. Flatter, I mean. You’re just that good.” His words were double-edged. Her power in the position she held was undeniable, but neither was the fact that he never needed to win her favor to have her feelings in his palm.

It’s just that Sylus always did like the chase, more so than the ever-so-pleasant rewards he reaped afterwards. Part of him always urged her to let him earn her affection, and the wickedness within her wanted to see him grovel for it, just a little. And with how utterly infatuated he was—if those all-consuming eyes of his were anything to go by, in their blazing glory and darkened depths—he’d have no qualms with that. If he truly didn’t like going down on his knees for her, then why did he look so sinfully good doing it?

And why was that image of him imprinted in her mind, playing in an endless loop, tempting her to indulge more and more in his attentions?

Still at what she felt was a safe distance so as not to get devoured by him, she gently patted his cheek, her thumb stroking in rhythm with his own fingers wandering to caress her waist ever-so-tenderly. “Then, why not reward me for my proficient skills?” she coyly asked, nodding her head slightly to the rack so conveniently placed beside them.

“Isn’t it too late for that, sweetie?” he asked, though his arm was already reaching over to the assortment of wines he’d so carefully picked out and left to cool in their chilled compartments. Though Sylus had never said it outright, it was no secret to anyone around that he was a wine connoisseur of his own right. The fact that his darling only wished to indulge in the sweet, sweet aftertaste of ludicrously expensive alcohol with him only made him more eager to have it ready at hand—particularly for moments like these, when the sultry look in her eyes paired with her fluttering touch drove him half to insanity.

It wasn’t so absurd to say that he would do anything to keep her so pliantly perched on his lap, every bit as demanding of his attention as he was willing to give her all of him. And the saccharine smile that grew on her face as he reluctantly pulled away from her waist to uncork the bottle was proof that she knew just how desperate he was for her hands all over him and her eyes solely focused on him.

Expertly, he began to pull out the decanter, only to be stopped by her fingers snaking around his wrist, tugging it back. “Not feeling very patient. I’d rather not wait for it to be aerated.”

He chuckled—a deep, pleasant sound straight from the depths of his chest—clearly pleased by her brazenness. “Straight from the bottle and to the glasses it is. I like it when you demand what you want.” Maybe a few years ago, she would’ve flushed deeply at the manner in which she put herself on the line. But with him, she knew that there was no line, and there was no ‘out there.’ For he was a part of her, nestled between her breasts and buried deep inside her, dormant and yet so awake.

Hadn’t they both willed it to come this far? Hadn’t they both wished to be so entwined that all possible lines blurred and faded? And wasn’t this complete and utter surrender to one another only natural after such implicit involvement with each other? She didn’t mind it one bit, if it meant that he was as much as hers as she was his in every meaning of the word. Perhaps that’s why the prospect of being so bare in front of him wasn’t at all daunting. In fact, part of it even felt somewhat exhilarating.

“You make it a habit to bring out my most selfish traits,” she breathed out a semblance of a laugh, watching as he pulled out the two most luxurious crystal glasses he owned, reserved only for their late night wine-entrenched conversations. “I suppose you’ll have to do as I say then, to make up for ruining me like that.” Her voice dipped into a low purr, and she grinned at the flush that colored the tips of his ears, despite how focused he seemed on the task at hand. Like clockwork; like it was some sort of muscle memory he’d acquired over the years he’d spent enamored by her and the words spelled out by her tongue and coated in an almost-innocent tipsiness.

“I’m already bartending for you now. But you can have three more wishes before the night’s done,” Sylus lazily said, stoppering the bottle once again as the sweet scent of his favorite Merlot enveloped her senses; a scent dipped in promises and secret whispers of devotion.

Part of her wondered when she’d started finding drinking so enjoyable, particularly when with him. She couldn’t really think of a specific point in time when his lavish lifestyle had started imprinting itself on her, but somewhere down the line she’d begun to wait for quiet nights of winding down like this. Wrapped up in his embrace, her body heating up with every single one of his achingly tender caresses, both with his practiced fingers and his gaze full of intent… more often than not she ended up sprawled all over him, clothes in various states of disarray as he ravished her—heart, body, and soul.

Leaning further into him and hooking her leg around his waist, the fabric of her dress completely exposed her leg hip-down. She pretended not to notice how he faltered in his actions, momentarily distracted by her as he always was. After all this time, it still left a pleasantly bubbling feeling in her chest to see him react that way to her; like he was being bewitched by her silhouette for the very first time. Laughing, she asked, “And will that power over you vanish at midnight too?”

“It depends on whether or not you play your cards right,” Sylus simply said, after having topped off their wine almost right to the brim, splurging over her just like he always did.

He knew all too well that she could manage him just as expertly as she handled every extravagant ballroom, every meeting hidden in the shadows, and every viciously-worded deal. There were no wrong cards in her deck.

Remorse was something she should’ve been feeling at least a twinge of; engaging in Sylus’ hedonistic lifestyle wasn’t something she’d have been proud to admit a while back. But then again, everything was a whirlwind of passion and earnest intensity when it came to him. Getting caught up in the eye of the storm was no surprise. And when the storm had eyes that twinkled over twin glasses of red wine that matched it, and a smile so wicked and yet so unbeguiling as she was handed one to sip from, then there was nothing to stop her from hurtling towards the edge and accepting the devil’s hand.

Maybe she’d have to beg for heavenly forgiveness for indulging in all her vices, unabashedly. But Sylus had far too much to atone for, and if she knew anything about him, it was that he’d much rather get on his knees to please her than to plead for mercy from divine powers. And though he wasn’t below her at the moment, looking up with lascivious want, he made sure that his palm drawing shapes at the small of her back let her know just exactly how much he craved the closeness of her body.

She carefully sipped on the wine, savoring its tang and sharpness paired with its sweet warmth in the way she’d grown to enjoy, all without breaking eye contact with him. It was a calculated move; almost devious of her to do that when she knew that no matter how much he feigned being collected in front of her, it was no more than a front—one that quickly collapsed after she pulled the glass away and daring to lick drops of Merlot off her lip for a few more seconds.

She could practically feel him groan before she could hear it, and she wickedly flashed him her canines, intently pressing the inside of her thighs against his hip, soft flesh flush against his suit pants, the fabric between them not stopping him from feeling every inch of her. Still, her movements were languid and relaxed. It couldn’t have been the wine; she’d barely had a few sips, not even half the glass, and her drinking habits in public weren’t known for being excessive. But perhaps she was drunk on him and on this moment, and she could feel her body easing into that relaxed state that only he’d ever witness her in.

To the entirety of the N109 Zone, she was unmatched in power, with or without Sylus by her side. To be able to command a room with so much refined and perfected grace, she’d have to have already long demanded respect with her presence alone. But in his arms, playfully peering into his eyes and watching how they roved over every inch of her, and how his Adam's apple bobbed with his thick swallow, she was just a lover who’d stripped away all her inhibitions—and his. A lover he was clearly too entranced by to properly function, if the slight tremor that shook his hand and spilt a few drops of wine onto his throat was anything to go by.

And gods, just seeing the rouge staining his skin and slowly trickling down to his clavicles was enough temptation to drive her insane. Impulsively, she placed a hand on the broad planes of his chest, leaning in so close that she couldn’t escape the scent of his cologne and slight musk. Her tongue darted out, licking a stripe up his neck, and earning a sharp hiss of their name. “Spilled some wine,” she mumbled into his skin, as though that were enough of an explanation, lips sucking a deep red mark onto him. Tensing underneath her, his own hand instinctively dug deeper into her back, pressing them even closer together.

“Minx,” his deep voice rumbled, all out of sorts as though she’d sent him in a daze. Some pride swelled within her as she pulled back a bit to admire her own work of art, the soft skin marred by her stark claim on him. His silver hair had gotten mussed along the way, strands falling in front of his hooded, lust-addled eyes. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, it was clear that she’d turned him to putty with just one kiss to his neck. With a smirk, she slowly took his half-empty glass of wine and set it on the coffee table beside the couch.

How many times had Sylus regarded her with this much unadulterated want, like if she disappeared for a moment he’d grow mad? She couldn’t count on one hand; couldn’t even begin to recall the first time he’d tied himself down to her. But there was something so dizzyingly satisfying about having such an intimidating man submit to her in every way. Something about the way his hand traced up a path to her shoulder blades, barely covered by the almost-backless fabric of the dress, and his eyes consumed her whole, wine-stained lips curled in a lovesick smile… something about him almost made her delirious.

“You’re the messy drinker,” she shrugged, feigning innocence as she hooked an arm around his neck and toyed with the silken hair at his nape, delighting in the way his eyes momentarily fluttered shut at the contact. “Can’t blame me for taking the chance.”

He inhaled sharply, then let out a breathy laugh as his now-free hand settled on her waist, perching her right on top of him and completely disregarding just how dangerously close he was to completely baring her with that open slit of the dress. “Though I disagree on that slight to my character, at least now you can’t blame me either when I take my chances.”

And then Sylus was kissing her, all softened lips and cherry-flavored lip balm showered in the headiness of well-warmed wine. His hands soothed her aching muscles and yet kindled fire to life underneath her dewy skin, while his tongue caressed hers like a lover’s touch after a long absence. He kissed her like he’d missed her; like he’d been wanting this for too long that he’d nearly forgotten how to breathe properly without her lips on his, and without her wet moans.

He swallowed her every sound like he possessed it—and her, with the greediness of a sun threatening to burn her world whole. But all he ever really was was the all-encompassing night, his shadows curled around hers and his reverent touch bathed in moonlight streaming through half-drawn curtains. Adoration seeped even through his sighs and soft-spoken mutters between stolen breaths, and she wondered if sin should taste as pure as it did from his mouth.

Her hand reached up and her fingers dug into his hair, seeking purchase to ground herself and try to regain an ounce of sanity. An impossible feat that was, especially when his hand had dipped to lightly finger her spine and elicit shivers from the depths of her, while his lips ravished her. Daringly, she nipped at his bottom lip, slightly raising herself off his lap for a moment as she relished in the shaky curse that left him. And with a swift tug, he pulled her back down flush against him, the carnal passion in his eyes completely drowning out his irises.

Not for long though, as the sudden jerk had caused a sloshing sound, and they were both made aware of the fact that it had slipped her mind to set aside her now-empty glass of wine. Whatever was left of it now stained Sylus’ shirt with rose splatters, the wet fabric sticking even more taut against his skin. The glass had already come precariously close to slipping from between her fingertips, with the way he’d distracted her from reality and all common sense with his wicked mouth—but now, he was positively drenched, and somehow, miraculously, without even an annoyed pinch between his eyebrows as he set her glass down.

Perhaps it was because he knew he was to blame for her spiraling in a haze.

Failing to hold back a chortle, she tried (to no avail, of course) to pat at his shirt with a tissue from the coffee table. “If it’s any consolation, pink suits you too,” she managed to make out between peals of laughter. “Though we could’ve bought a rose shirt instead. Less of a hassle, y’know. Infinitely easier to clean.”

Shaking his head as he snickered, Sylus extracted her hands off him, tissue and all, and she climbed off his lap so that he could move freely. “And make your life less interesting? Now, where’s the fun in that, sweetie?” He was quick to shuck off his clothes, throwing them off on the arm rest and running a hand through his hair.

Flushed and disheveled, with kiss-swollen lips and a dampened chest and neck, he looked like the epitome of godless and lawless beauty. No heaven would take him when he lived like he did, but he was a small piece of debauched heaven she stowed away for herself. And having him shirtless like this while she stood above him with shaky legs and warmth trickling through her blood like thick molasses was going to be the death of her.

“You’re getting drunk.” He didn’t ask it, merely stated it as an observation. It didn’t take her long to ponder it, and then she nodded, earning a huff of a laugh from him. He stood up, readjusting the waistband of his pants and gently picking her up in a clumsier carry than earlier. Her dress creased in his grip, but it seemed that neither of them had it in them to care at the moment, nor did it matter that her entire leg had slipped out of the slip. “Lightweight.” And that teasing jab was all he needed to say for her to know that their little fun had been put on hold—just for the night, of course, as he carried her off to bed.

“Like you’re usually any better. Spoilsport,” she bit back, though it held no malice and little force. If anything, fondness seeped into her voice, enamored by the realization that he’d pulled back for her. And how could she have it in her to complain, when he’d taken such good care of her the entire evening? Such tender-hearted care didn’t go unnoticed; not when her eyes only ever saw him, and her ears nestled against his chest could find solace in the rapid fluttering of his heartbeat.

“You’ll thank me in the morning, when you don’t have to nurse a hangover or a sore body.”

Climbing up the stairs shook her body in his embrace, and she tightened her hold around him. Unsurprisingly, as though he’d truly predicted it, she could feel herself growing more drowsy with each step he took, and it took her effort to keep her eyes half-open. Her words were little above a mumble when she replied, “Take my makeup off and I’ll double my thanks in advance.”

“Mm. I’ll ask to cash in, first thing when you wake up.” Even his voice sounded more distant now as she could vaguely sense him pushing their bedroom door open.

“Greedy.”

“And shameless,” came his soft agreement, before slowly setting her down on the plush mattress and nestling her head into her pillow. Her eyes focused on him for a second, taking in that lovelorn smile and affectionate gaze that always, always followed her, before non-verbally handing him her trust and letting go of him, leaving him to walk off.

And before Sylus had even come back with her makeup remover in tow, she’d already succumbed to the viselike grip of a blissful slumber, surrounded by the familiar scent of him all over their bed, and the soothing pressure of him on top of her, taking such achingly gentle care of her like he’d always promised to.

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[hoe4hotchner]

You left me behind, and now I see you everywhere | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x BAU!fem!Reader | WC: 11.6k  | CW: MDNI, 18+, emotional distress, heartbreak, angst, unresolved feelings, grief, heated argument, anger, smut, piv, wrap it before you tap it, it's office sex, heated kiss, dirty talk, kind of rough sex, general case talk, mention of mr. Scratch (if that's even a warning, maybe some of y'all have trauma ;))

Summary:  After years apart, following Hotch’s departure into witness protection and his decision to run for Congress, you're forced to confront unresolved feelings when you meet again. Tension builds as you navigate your emotional fallout, leading to a passionate confrontation and a second chance at love.

A/N: Worldwide by Big time rush started playing from my playlist as I reached the last scene to edit…. I had to stop myself from crying cause that song fits so well for some reason.

Peter Lewis was dead. Mr. Scratch was finally gone. With him out of the picture, Aaron could come back. That had been your one glimmer of hope through all the sleepless nights and endless waiting — knowing that once Lewis was no longer a threat, the man you loved would return. No more running, no more hiding. Hotch and Jack would finally be safe.

You clung to that thought like a lifeline, repeating it to yourself over and over again: He can come back now. He’ll come back to me. He'll come home.

The rumors had reached your ears days before Rossi called the meeting. Hotch was out of witness protection. Finally free to do what he wanted, to reach out again. Your heart soared at the news, desperate for it to be true. You had tried to keep your emotions in check, to remind yourself that things weren’t that simple, that there were procedures he had to go through before he could come home. But still, the idea of him walking through those doors — or knocking on your door — returning to his place at the BAU, and — most importantly — returning to you, was the only thing that kept you from breaking completely during his absence. It was the only reason why you had been able to keep your composure.

Now, as you stood in the conference room, your arms wrapped tightly around your torso, you tried to calm the rapid beating of your heart. The relief of knowing Peter Lewis was gone should have been enough. It should have been enough.

They'll be safe.

Rossi took his place at the front, his demeanor was serious, a subtle weight to his usually warm expression that you'd come to love over the years. You could see the effort it took for him to meet your eyes, his gaze softening as though he knew the words that would follow would shatter you. Rossi had become a rock to you over the past year, always there to have a heartfelt chat about your feelings, how you were doing, and the progress you'd made trying to move on. But in reality, you hadn't.

“I’ve spoken to Aaron,” Rossi said, his voice calm but laced with gravity. “He and Jack are safe. They’ve left witness protection.”

You exhaled sharply, a mix of relief and joy rushing through you. He’s safe. After everything, he was safe. That meant he would come back. He had to.

But then Rossi continued, his eyes flicking over the team, hesitant in a way that made your stomach twist. “Hotch won't be returning to the BAU.”

The world around you froze. His words echoed in your ears, but your mind rejected them, refusing to accept the truth they carried. He’s not coming back? It didn’t make sense. You couldn’t make sense of it.

"What do you mean he’s not coming back?"

The tears welled up before you could stop them. Your throat tightened, and you felt your heart shatter inside your chest. He wasn’t coming back. The man you loved — the man you had held onto, even when he left you behind — was choosing not to return, was choosing to stay away. The hope you had so carefully nurtured and held onto was ripped away in an instant, replaced by a cold, gnawing sense of abandonment. You felt the pit in your stomach, and you couldn't tell if you were going to throw up at the revelation.

It felt like someone had stabbed you with a knife.

Tears blurred your vision as you stared blankly ahead, your body betraying you as the sobs threatened to spill out. You blinked rapidly, trying to push them back, trying to ground yourself, but it was no use. How could he?

You had waited. You had been patient. You had loved him through all of it — through the secrecy in the beginning, through the ups and the downs, and now through the distance. You had held onto the belief that once the threat was over, he would come back to you. That you two could be whole again. That your soul finally would be reunited with its missing piece. But now, it seemed like everything you had hoped for, everything you had believed in, was gone.

Your hands shook as you tried to wipe the tears from your face, but they just kept coming. He’s not coming back. The realization pierced through your chest, sharp and unforgiving. It was like reliving the moment he left, only this time, there was no promise of a future. No promise of us.

You felt like a fool. You had been his, entirely, even when he hadn’t been yours. You had given him everything — your love, your trust, your loyalty. And now? Now he had left you with nothing but the weight of that betrayal.

Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The room around you faded into the background as your world crumbled at Rossi’s words.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t coming back. Not to the team. Not to you.

The silence in the room after Rossi’s announcement was deafening. You stood there, tears streaming down your face, completely oblivious to the concerned glances being exchanged around you. The tension in your chest was unbearable, and it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

Emily was the first to notice, her brow furrowing as she took a step toward you. “Hey,” she said softly, her voice full of concern as she tilted her head with compassion. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The words were stuck in your throat, buried under the crushing weight of your emotions. You shook your head, your lips trembling as you tried — and failed — to stop the tears. Truth be told, they weren't surprised by your reaction.

“Hey, come here,” JJ said gently, moving closer, her hand hovering just above your shoulder, wanting to pull you in for a hug. Her touch was warm and comforting, but it felt like too much. The kindness, the sympathy — it overwhelmed you, only reminded you of how deeply you’d been hurt.

You pulled away, a sudden, jerky movement that made JJ’s hand drop back to her side. The rejection was unintentional, but you couldn’t help it. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you wanted was to be left alone, to scream and cry.

“I’m fine,” you managed to choke out, though the crack in your voice betrayed you. You turned away from them, wiping furiously at your face, even though the tears wouldn’t stop.

I can’t break down here. Not in front of them.

Morgan stepped forward, his expression softening as he watched you struggle. “You don’t have to pretend, you know. We know how much he meant to you. We’re here for you,” he said, his voice low, it was sincere, but you weren't ready for that, weren't ready to admit that this was your new reality.

But that was the problem. They were all there, and you were unraveling in front of them, exposed and vulnerable. You didn’t want their comfort. You didn’t want their pity. What you wanted was Aaron. You wanted answers. You wanted an explanation for why he had chosen to leave you behind, why he wasn’t coming back. For why he never called.

Your heart twisted painfully at the thought. You clenched your fists at your sides, feeling the weight of their eyes on you, all of them waiting, ready to offer support. But it wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.

They weren't him.

You shook your head again, more forcefully this time. “I just—” Your voice cracked, the rest of the sentence dying on your tongue. “I need to go.”

Rossi, who had been quietly watching the exchange from across the room, stepped forward. His eyes were filled with understanding, but there was nothing he could say that would make this easier, there was nothing he could do that wouldn't make you hate him. “Take the day if you need to,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that usually offered comfort, though it barely registered through the numbness settling into your bones.

You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. You nodded stiffly, walking into the bullpen to grab your things. Your hands shook, desperate to escape before you completely fell apart in front of everyone.

“Hey,” Emily called out, stepping out of the conference room, but you didn’t turn around. You couldn’t face them — not now, maybe not ever. You pushed through the door, your footsteps echoing loudly in the hallway as you fled the room, the concerned voices of your teammates fading behind you.

Your heart raced as you moved down the familiar corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last. The walls closed in, the pressure mounting in your chest until it became unbearable. By the time you reached the front doors, you could barely see through the tears, your vision blurred, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts.

Outside, the cool air hit your face, but it did little to soothe the ache in your chest. Grey clouds loomed over your head, threatening to spill the same tears that you so desperately tried to hold back.

You stopped as you reached the end of the parking lot, finally letting the sobs you had been holding back tear through you, the grief, the betrayal, all of it crashing over you in waves.

He’s not coming back.

The words repeated in your mind, over and over again, each time cutting deeper than the last.

You had never felt so abandoned, so completely lost. And the worst part was, you had no idea what to do next, no idea who to turn to. Because the only person you truly wanted to turn to was gone from your life.

The walk back to your apartment felt like a blur, the city passing by in a haze of noise and light. You barely registered the world around you — your mind was somewhere else entirely, trapped in the ache of Rossi’s words and the sharp sting of Hotch’s decision. He wasn’t coming back. The words haunted you.

That thought pulsed through your veins, making each step feel heavier than the last. By the time you reached your door, your hands were still trembling as you fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside and just breathe.

But the second you stepped into your apartment, something felt off.

You paused just inside the doorway, your body instinctively tensing as a strange feeling washed over you. The air felt… different. Still. You took a cautious step forward, your eyes scanning the familiar space, searching for something — anything — that looked out of the ordinary, that might explain the knot forming in your stomach.

Then you saw it.

Sitting neatly on the dining table, in plain view, were your spare keys. Next to them was an envelope with your name on it, scrawled in a handwriting only a left-handed person could've written. You recognized it immediately.

Aaron’s.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you just stood there, frozen in time. Fear and confusion mixed with a sick sense of dread as you stared at the letter, the weight of it pressing down on your chest. How did he get in?

And how had he gotten out? The door had after all been locked.

Your heart pounded from your heart to your ears as you walked toward the table, the floor feeling unsteady beneath your feet. You hesitated for a long moment before picking up the envelope, the paper felt cold and rough between your fingers. The sight of his handwriting was almost too much to bear.

He had been here.

With shaking hands, you slid your finger through the envelope, carefully opening it and removing the letter as if it was the most delicate thing you had ever seen. Your eyes scanned the words, every stroke of the pen, every curve and twist was a painful reminder of the man who had once been yours.

The letter read:

𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔.

𝙸 𝚘𝚠𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢. 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝙰𝚄. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔. 𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 — 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 — 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝙷𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚢. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚏 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚕.

𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚜, 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙹𝚊𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚜𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖.

𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚔𝚊𝚢. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 — 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚜. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎.

𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚍. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚐𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕, 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗.

𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐.

— 𝙰𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚗

The letter slipped from your hands, fluttering to the floor as your legs gave out beneath you. The sobs came violently, tearing through you as you collapsed onto the floor of your living room.

This was it. This was the moment where everything you had been holding inside — every ounce of grief, every bit of hope that had clung to your heart over the past year — finally broke free. The pain you had shoved down for so long, the hurt you had tried so hard to hide, came rushing out all at once, too powerful to contain.

You pressed your hands to your face, the tears spilling uncontrollably as your chest heaved with sobs. He had been here. He had come back to your space, to your life, only to leave you with words that felt like daggers in your heart.

He could've waited for you to come home.

He had made his choice. He was leaving you behind. And he had done it with the same precision he used for everything — careful, calculated and always thinking ahead. You couldn’t fault him for wanting to protect Jack. You would've done the same if you had been in his shoes. But you could hate the way he had left you, hate him for making you feel discarded, like something in his life that could be put away, neatly, and forgotten about without a second thought.

You curled into yourself on the floor, hugging your legs, your body trembling as wave after wave of sorrow washed over you. This wasn’t just about him leaving the BAU. This was about him leaving you. About him cutting you out of his life completely, like you had never mattered at all.

The sobs racked through you, they were raw and unrelenting, as you lay there on the cold floor of your apartment, clutching at the emptiness inside you. You had been holding onto him for so long, for too long, and now he was gone — really gone. And you were left with nothing more than the bitter taste in your mouth and the sound of your own shattered heart echoing in the silence.

Six years had passed since Hotch had walked out of your life.

In that time, you had grown, changed — hardened, perhaps. You’d thrown yourself into your work, climbing the ranks within the BAU. The weight of your experience now rested comfortably on your shoulders. You were no longer the agent who had cried in Rossi’s office all those late nights, the agent who had stood frozen in the conference room all those years ago, devastated by the news of Hotch’s permanent departure.

Now, you were Emily's right hand, trusted to run the team when needed, especially when bureaucracy. Rossi had decided to stop back a bit, taking on fewer cases and focusing more on his writing as he attempted weaning himself away from the team, hoping that this time he truly would be able to retire.

Leading the team had come naturally to you, though some days, when the office was quiet and your mind wandered, you still felt the ache of his absence.

You sighed softly, rubbing the back of your neck as you closed your office door behind you. It was time for the next briefing, and you’d promised Emily you’d call everyone in. The case was urgent — a missing child, time was not on your side — but as you walked toward the conference room, your attention was pulled to the large TV mounted on the wall in the bullpen.

A voice you hadn’t heard in years rang out through the room, smooth and familiar, the same low timbre that had once soothed your heart. The voice that still echoed in your dreams on nights when sleep was particularly elusive.

Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes snapping to the television screen, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as his face filled the screen. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety or love perhaps, that raced through your veins, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling something. Something you hadn't felt in years.

There he was, standing at a podium, flanked by the American flag, a calm and authoritative presence as he spoke to a crowd. The caption running along the bottom read: Former FBI unit chief Aaron Hotchner Announces Candidacy for a spot in Congress.

Your breath hitched. He looked older. The lines on his face were more defined, his hair tinged with a little more gray, his face was shaven, somethings never change you thought — though you could sense the salt and pepper streaks that had started appearing within it. The years had marked him, but there was still an undeniable strength in his presence. A steady, unshakable resolve that had always been a part of who he was.

And yet, even now, after all this time, he still looked as good as the day you last saw him. Perhaps even more so, with that air of confidence that seemed to come so naturally to him. The sharpness in his gaze, the way he commanded a room — it was all still there, just as you remembered — even through a TV screen.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“…It is with great honor that I announce my candidacy for Congress,” Hotch’s voice continued, steady and firm. “My years of service in the FBI have prepared me to take on the challenges we face as a nation, and I believe it’s time to bring the values of justice and integrity to the forefront of our government. I believe it's time for a change.”

The camera zoomed in on his face, his expression was stoic yet passionate, every word calculated and purposeful. The sight of him brought back a rush of memories — late nights in the office, quiet moments where you’d lean on each other after a case, the warmth of his smile when it was just the two of you, away from the chaos, the comfort of his hugs, the soft and tender feeling of his lips — everything came back.

But those memories were ghosts now. Echoes of a time you had buried deep, right along with the pain of losing him.

A lump formed in your throat as you stood there, rooted in place, watching a man who had once been everything to you stand on that stage, now completely out of reach — yet so close by. He wasn’t the same man you knew all those years ago, you were sure of that. He wasn’t your Hotch anymore. He was something else entirely — a public figure, a leader stepping into the political arena, ready to take on a whole new world — perhaps he never really was yours to begin with.

Your fingers tightened around the folder in your hands, your knuckles turning white with sheer force, the weight of it grounding you as you forced yourself to breathe. You didn’t know what to feel. Shock, maybe. Sadness. Perhaps even a bit of pride, seeing him like this, doing something for the greater good. But mostly, there was a gnawing ache deep in your chest, a familiar one, reminding you of what could have been.

You blinked rapidly, tearing your gaze away from the screen as the room started to blur around you. Your heart was racing, but you couldn’t let yourself fall apart. Not here. Not now.

“Everything okay?” Luke asked, walking past you, his eyes flicking to the TV screen before landing back on you, concern etched on his face. He didn't know much about your relationship with Hotch, only the rumors that had flown between the desks in the bullpen as you'd drowned yourself in work trying to suffocate the pain.

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah,” you lied, your voice tight. “I’ll be right there. Just… finishing something up.”

Luke gave you a nod, but his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he headed toward the conference room, leaving you standing there, feeling like the air had been sucked out of the space around you.

You turned back to the screen, just in time to catch the last shot of Hotch stepping down from the podium, the applause from the crowd ringing out as the camera panned away.

For a brief moment, you wondered if he had ever thought about you during these last six years. If he had thought of calling you. If, somewhere in that busy mind of his, you had crossed his thoughts as he prepared to step into this new chapter of his life.

But it didn’t matter now. He had made his choice, and so had you.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and turned away from the screen, pushing down the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. There was a case to solve. There always was. And that was the only thing that mattered now.

“Alright, team,” you called out, walking towards the conference room, your voice steady once again. “Let’s get to work.”

You walked into the conference room, trying to shake off the lingering effects of seeing Hotch on the TV. The rest of the team was already seated as you made it inside, files in hand, waiting for you to start the briefing. Emily glanced at you, her eyes narrowing slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press. She trusted you to compartmentalize when it mattered.

You inhaled deeply and projected the case details on the large screen at the front of the room. The image of a young boy's smiling face filled the space, the innocence in his eyes starkly contrasted by the grim reality of his disappearance and the details listed in the case files of similar incidents in the area.

“Alright, everyone,” you began, keeping your voice steady. “Our missing person is Ethan Marshall, age 7. He was last seen outside of his school two days ago in a quiet suburb of Portland, Oregon. His parents reported him missing when he didn’t come home after his play date that same day with his best friend from class. There’s been no contact from a potential abductor. No ransom demands. The local authorities are stuck, and they’ve requested our help.”

JJ immediately sat forward, flipping through the case file. “Two days with no leads and no communication? We’re looking at someone who doesn’t need the attention. This could be personal, or we’re dealing with someone who’s done this before and knows what they're doing.”

Tara nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still fixed on Ethan’s photo. “The fact that there’s been no contact suggests they’re not after money. This might be about control, power, or even something darker, like revenge or even fantasy or sexually-driven motives.” You closed your eyes for a brief moment at the thought of what the unsub might put the young boy through. You had to find him, quickly.

You clicked through to the next slide — images of Ethan’s parents, Tim and Julia Marshall. “Ethan’s parents are a stable middle-class family with no criminal records. His mother works as a nurse, and his father is a local contractor. No major incidents or enemies we or they know of. However, Tim Marshall's company was sued about a year ago over a construction job that went south. It’s possible there could be a grudge tied to that.”

Luke leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “But to target a child? It’s a big escalation. If this is about the father’s job, we’d need to look into that lawsuit, but we also need to consider the possibility that the kid was the primary target from the start.”

Emily chimed in, her eyes sharp with focus. “Agreed. We should explore all angles — someone with a grudge against the family, a potential predator, or maybe even someone close to the family. It’s often someone they know.”

Spencer, who had been quietly flipping through his notes, spoke up. “The average age for a child abductor is in their mid-thirties to mid-forties, typically male, though that’s not always the case. Most of them have a history of deviant behavior or crimes against minors. If this is someone who’s taken Ethan to satisfy a fantasy, we might be looking at someone who has done this several times before and is getting better at hiding their tracks.”

Your gaze swept over the team, the weight of the case settling in the room. “We’ve got a few potential leads we need to investigate. JJ, I want you to work on the media angle — see if you can coordinate with local news to get a controlled message out, prepare the Marshalls for a conference. Luke, you and Tara will dig deeper into Tim Marshall’s lawsuit. See if there’s anything there we can work with. Spencer, I want you to start profiling any possible suspects within a fifty-mile radius who fit the age and behavioral profile of past offenders.”

The team nodded, already mentally gearing up for the work ahead. You could see the gears turning in their minds as they absorbed the information and pieced together possible profiles of the unsub.

Finally, you cleared your throat, pushing away the personal turmoil still brewing inside you. “Alright, everyone, we’ve got a missing boy out there, and time is against us. We’ll get more information as we land.”

You snapped the case file shut and looked up at your team, your voice firm. “Wheels up in 30.”

The team dispersed quickly, heading off to gather their gear and finalize last-minute preparations. You lingered behind for a moment, watching the case photos flicker on the screen. Your heart was still heavy from earlier, but you had a job to do. No distractions. No room for the past.

Focus, keep moving, you told yourself, even though the image of Hotch’s face still lingered in the back of your mind, you couldn't afford to spare him another thought.

The case had been wrapped up with surprising speed, and the flight back to Quantico was a welcome relief. You settled into your seat, the hum of the plane a calming reminder of the good you and the team had done today. You felt the exhaustion seep into your bones as the plane roared into the sky. The hum of the engines and the rhythmic sound of the wings provided a backdrop, but you couldn't shake the tumult of emotions swirling within you.

As you glanced around the cabin, you noticed that everyone else was fast asleep, the exhaustion from the long days evident on their faces. Emily’s head rested against JJ’s shoulder, and Spencer was curled up in his seat with a book laid open in his lap, the pages fluttering slightly with the plane’s movement. Luke, too, was snoring softly on the couch, a slight smile on his lips as he pulled the blanket tighter around him. They all looked so peaceful.

But your mind was far from peaceful.

You leaned back in your seat, your thoughts racing back to Hotch’s announcement. You had tried to compartmentalize your feelings during the case, focusing solely on finding Ethan. But now, with the rush of adrenaline faded and the quiet of the plane surrounding you, the weight of it all crashed back in.

“Hey,” came a familiar voice, pulling you from your thoughts. Rossi had moved to sit across from you, concern etched into his features. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s going on?”

Before you could filter your thoughts, the words slipped out. “Did you know?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he knew exactly what you were referring to. “Yes, he called me last week to let me know.”

Your heart raced at the revelation. “He called you? Why didn’t you tell me?” Your words came out as a hushed hiss. Rossi knew you hadn't meant it like that, but your frustration of how everything had panned out had never really gone away. He understood why you were feeling like you did.

Rossi leaned back in his seat, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he took in your features. “I didn’t want to upset you more than you already were. I thought you’d hear about it when he officially announced it. I thought maybe he'd even reach out himself” Rossi knew Hotch wouldn't reach out to you, even if his life depended on it. He was a proud man, and even if he had been willing to admit his wrongs, he was too scared to face you and realize just how big of a mistake this truly had been.

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. “But why, Rossi? Why would he do this? He had a life with us — his life in the BAU, with Jack, with me. And now he’s just… gone.”

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he replied softly. “But running for Congress might be a way for him to contribute on a larger scale. He wants to help people, to make a difference, just like he did with us. This was a chance for him to step into a role where he could have an even bigger impact than what he had in the bureau. Who knows, maybe we'll see him around someday.”

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill again. “But he didn’t even talk to me about it. It’s like he just vanished. I thought we had something, and then he just left. I felt so abandoned.”

Rossi’s expression turned serious. “You know how Hotch is. He’s always been someone who puts others before himself, even at the cost of his own happiness. I think he truly believes this is what’s best for Jack and for himself. It doesn’t mean he didn’t care about you. In fact, I know he cared deeply about you. It just means he’s trying to figure things out in his own way.”

“But what about me?” You whispered, your voice trembling. “I was left behind, and now I’m still here, trying to navigate everything without him.”

Rossi said your name, leaning forward, his eyes softening. It wasn't as much a reprimand, as it was him trying to stop your spiraling thoughts. You both knew it did you no good. Especially not if the rumors were true and Emily was in line for the open position of Section Chief. Both of you knew what that would mean for you. “He made a choice, yes, but it doesn’t erase what you two had. If anything, it highlights how much he valued that relationship. He wouldn’t have just walked away without thinking it through, even if it seems that way.”

You took a deep breath, trying to find your footing amidst the emotional turmoil. “I just don’t know how to deal with all of this. It feels so final, so absolute. I thought I was ready to move on, but seeing him on TV...”

Rossi reached across the table, his hand resting gently on yours. “You don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It’s okay to feel hurt. It’s okay to be confused. But remember, you’re still part of this team, and we’re here for you, no matter what. You’re not alone in this. You never will be.”

You nodded slowly, his words providing a small sense of comfort amidst the chaos in your heart. “Thanks, Rossi. I appreciate it. I just wish things were different.”

He gave you an understanding smile. “So do I. But whatever happens next, we’ll face it together. And if you need to talk about Hotch, I’m here to listen. Just know that he still cares, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now.” You knew he was right.

As you both fell into a comfortable silence, you felt a little weight lift from your chest. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but you had the support of your team. And that was a start.

Weeks drifted by like the clouds hanging in the sky, each day seemingly blending into the next. Hotch’s face became a fixture on the television, the cadence of his voice echoing in your mind like a haunting refrain. News reports came almost daily, showcasing him speaking passionately about his vision for change, the values he held dear, and the policies he aimed to implement if elected. The topics ranged from community safety to education reform, and while many praised his ideals, you found yourself seething each time his image flickered across the screen.

He still hadn't contacted you yet.

At first, you tried to engage with the reports, focusing on the substance of his speeches, realizing that despite everything he's policies aligned with your values too, but as each new broadcast emerged, anger simmered beneath the surface. It was infuriating to watch the man you loved stand there, poised and confident — visiting schools, nursery homes, community centers, and everything in between — while you were left with nothing but fragments of the life you had once envisioned together. He seemed so distant, a stranger now, embodying everything you once admired but now felt betrayed by.

Each time you heard his voice, the way he articulated his beliefs with the conviction that had once made your heart race, you locked yourself in your office for the remainder of the day, drowning out the world with your frustration and sorrow. Your colleagues exchanged worried glances as you retreated, but you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. They didn’t know the depth of your pain, the feeling of abandonment that clawed at your insides. And you weren't ready for them to know.

On one particularly long evening, the office was silent, the usual buzz of activity having died down as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting shadows across your workspace. You sat alone at your desk, the glow of your computer screen the only light illuminating the room. Your heart felt heavy, the emotional burden weighing on you like a thick blanket.

As the clock ticked away, you absentmindedly pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photos. You found it — the last picture you had taken with Hotch and Jack. You hadn't meant to look for it, but something within you had drawn your mind to that particular folder with pictures you never quite had the strength to transfer out of your phone. In the picture, the three of you stood in the park, sunlight filtering through the trees, laughter frozen in time. Hotch’s arm was around you, a protective and loving gesture, while Jack beamed in front of you, holding his soccer ball in his hands, all youthful energy and innocence.

You stared at the image, the way Hotch’s eyes crinkled at the edges with genuine joy, contrasting sharply with the turmoil roiling in your chest. A single tear slid down your cheek, carving a path through the haze of anger and hurt.

“Jack,” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible in the stillness of the office. He must be close to 18 now. The thought struck you like a lightning bolt. Time had slipped by so swiftly, and you couldn’t help but wonder what kind of young man he had become. Had Hotch been there for him? Had he taken the time to show his son what love was? Did they share the same laughter you once did, or had the weight of their decisions overshadowed those moments?

You closed your eyes, allowing your mind to drift back to memories of Jack — the way his laughter filled the room, his playful spirit that lit up the darkest days. The action figures scattered all over your apartment. You remembered the way he would come running into your arms when you stayed over for the weekend, his small frame clinging to you like you were the safest place in the world. You had cherished those moments, and now they felt like distant echoes, fading into the background of your life.

The thought of him growing up without you, of Hotch and Jack creating a new life that you weren’t a part of, twisted in your gut. The anger that had bubbled beneath the surface surged forth again, but this time, it mingled with an overwhelming sense of grief and longing. You felt like a ghost haunting the edges of their lives, watching from afar as they moved on, while you were trapped in a limbo of unresolved feelings.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the tear from your cheek and opened your eyes. You couldn’t stay like this. You couldn’t let him keep affecting you from a distance, even if it meant facing the truth of your feelings. You needed to regain control, to reclaim your narrative, whatever that might look like.

As you set the phone down, determination coursed through you. You would find a way to confront the anger and pain, to redefine your path without him. But the journey would be a challenge — one you weren’t entirely ready to take, yet knew you had to face.

With a heavy sigh, you stood, ready to leave the remnants of that day behind. You took one last look at the photo on your phone, whispering softly, “I hope you’re happy, Hotch. I really do.”

And with that, you stepped out of the office, leaving for the night, leaving the memories behind, but carrying them with you as you prepared for whatever came next.

A couple of days passed since that late night in your office, the echo of memories lingering like a haunting refrain. You had spent the time focusing on work, throwing yourself into cases, and helping your team. It was a temporary distraction, but every time you caught sight of a news segment featuring Hotch, you felt that familiar ache in your chest. Each broadcast, showcasing his polished demeanor and political aspirations, only stoked the embers of frustration and longing buried deep within you.

Then, one afternoon, as you sat at your desk, your phone buzzed with an incoming message from an unknown number. Your heart raced with curiosity and a hint of apprehension as you opened the text:

“Hey! It’s Jack..... I don't know if you remember me. I know this is a bit out of the blue, but I’d love to see you. We're back in Virginia again. I miss you and wanted to ask if you’d meet with me. Sorry if this is weird, but I hope you’re okay.”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was Jack. After all these years, he was reaching out. The memories of his laughter and bright smile flooded back, bringing with them a rush of warmth and bittersweet nostalgia. Without a second thought, you quickly typed out your response.

“Hi, Jack! It’s great to hear from you. I’d love to meet. How about we catch up at the café near the Academy?”

You hit send and felt a wave of nervous excitement wash over you, followed closely by a rush of trepidation. What would he look like? Would he be the same boy you remembered, or had he transformed into someone else entirely different? The thought churned in your stomach as you anxiously awaited his reply.

The day of the meeting arrived, and as you approached the café, your heart raced with anticipation. The small establishment was bustling with life, the aroma of fresh coffee wafting through the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pastries. You stepped inside, scanning the room until your eyes landed on him.

Jack sat at a table in the corner, his back to you, and you felt a jolt of recognition. He had grown into a young man, tall and confident, with his hair still matching Haley's, his eyes brighter than ever. But it was the way he carried himself that struck you most — he exuded a maturity that seemed to echo Hotch’s stoic demeanor, yet there was a warmth about him that was uniquely his own. Jack was much more like his mother than he would ever realize.

As he turned to look at you, a broad smile broke across his face, and your heart swelled at the sight. He stood, and for a moment, it felt like time had collapsed, erasing the years that had separated you. You rushed forward, wrapping your arms around him, and he embraced you tightly, a mix of nostalgia and warmth flooding over you both.

“Jack,” you whispered, stepping back to get a better look at him. “You’ve grown up so much.”

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s what happens when you turn eighteen,” he replied, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice, but the joy in his eyes was unmistakable. You were surprised by how deep his voice had gotten, still recalling the sweet sounds of the 11-year-old boy who had gone into witness protection.

You both settled into your seats, and the initial rush of excitement settled into a comfortable rhythm as you sipped your coffees. “How have you been?” you asked, genuine curiosity etched in your voice.

Jack hesitated, his expression growing serious. “It’s been tough since… since everything that happened. After we left witness protection, it was just Dad and me. We moved a lot at first but eventually settled down in Chicago. Dad tried his best, but it wasn’t easy.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I can only imagine. How is he doing?”

Jack shrugged, glancing down at his cup. “He’s okay, I guess." He mumbled. "He doesn’t talk about you much, I don't think he can bring himself to let the memories resurface. But I can tell he misses you a lot. He still has all the pictures of us together. Sometimes, I catch him looking at them when he thinks I’m not paying attention.” His voice was thick with emotion, and you felt your heartache further.

Had Hotch been as miserable as you?

“I missed you both too,” you admitted, your voice softening. “But I don't know if I can bring myself to keep holding on to the past. Not as long as Hotch hasn’t reached out to me, I’m probably not going to contact him. At least not for my own well-being.” You sighed, knowing it was the right decision, but still beating yourself up for listening to your sensibility.

Jack’s gaze met yours, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “I get it. I just wanted to see you after all this time. You were like a mother to me after Mom…” His voice trailed off, and the pain in his eyes mirrored your own. You wondered if Hotch had ever talked about Haley, talked about what had happened to his mother, if Jack had ever gotten any answers?

You reached out, placing your hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Jack. I wish I could have been there for you both. I loved you both so much.”

“I know,” he said, squeezing your hand. “And that’s why I wanted to meet. I just—” he paused, searching for the right words. “I needed to know if you were okay. It’s been a long time, and you were always there for me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, a mixture of sorrow and relief washing over you. “I’ve missed you more than I can say. You were such a bright light in my life, Jack. It’s been hard without you both.”

The conversation flowed naturally, filled with shared memories and the weight of unspoken emotions. You listened as Jack talked about his life since Hotch had stepped into the world of politics — his own struggles, school, feeling like his friends didn't know the real him, the challenges of growing up without a mother, and the bond he still cherished with his father. It felt like they never left.

“I think Dad thought he was protecting me by not talking about you. But I needed to know about you, how you were doing. I needed to know you were okay.” He confessed, his eyes earnest. “He was always so focused on keeping me safe that he didn’t realize how much I missed you. How much he missed you.”

The warmth of Jack’s words wrapped around you, reassuring you that your bond hadn’t faded, even in the years apart. You shared stories, laughing softly at the memories of days long gone. The sun filtered through the café windows, casting a golden glow over the two of you, illuminating the path of healing you both needed.

As the café buzzed around you, it felt like a sanctuary, a safe space where the past and present intertwined, reminding you of the love that had once filled your life. This was a step forward, a chance to heal the wounds that had lingered for too long.

In that moment, sitting across from Jack, you realized that while the scars of the past might never fully fade, the possibility of rebuilding a future was within reach. Maybe not with Hotch, but potentially regain contact and a relationship with Jack.

“Let’s not let this much time pass before we see each other again,” you suggested, your heart lifting at the idea of keeping this connection alive.

“Definitely. You can count on it,” Jack promised, and as you both exchanged a smile, the weight of your shared history felt a little lighter, the hope for what was to come a little brighter.

The sun streamed through the windows of your office, casting a gentle glow on the stacks of case files and the photographs of the BAU team adorning your walls. You leaned back in your chair, still buzzing from your meeting with Jack, your heart lighter after the emotional reunion. The warmth of yesterday's trip to the café lingered in your mind, a comfort amidst the chaotic world of profiling and criminal behavior.

Just as you began to focus on the case at hand, there was a soft knock on your door. You looked up to see Emily stepping in, a slight frown creasing her forehead. She crossed the room and sat down in one of the chairs in front of your desk.

“Hey,” she said, her tone catching your attention. “I just got off the phone with the Director. He wants the BAU to assist with a case involving a politician in Congress.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Congress, knowing potentially what that could mean, and you held your breath, bracing for the inevitable connection. “Do they have any details yet?”

Emily nodded, her eyes searching yours. “Not much. It seems there’s been some suspicious activity surrounding him, but the Director wanted us to prioritize this. I thought I should let you know, especially given the possibility of running into Hotch.”

You felt a pang in your chest at the mention of his name, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. “So, we’re not profiling Hotch, then?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady with a joke, masking the swirl of emotions rising within you.

“No, he’s not involved at all with this case actually,” Emily clarified, crossing her arms. “But with him being in the spotlight, there’s a chance we might see him around, especially if the investigation takes us to other parts of D.C. or if he’s involved in any press events while we're at Congress.”

You nodded, absorbing the information. “Right. I guess I should prepare myself for that possibility.” Your heart raced at the thought, the image of him on the television still fresh in your mind. The last few weeks of seeing him on the news had stirred up a mix of longing and unresolved feelings, and now the idea of encountering him face-to-face was both thrilling and terrifying.

“Are you okay with this?” Emily asked, her gaze softening with concern. “I know seeing him might bring up some stuff.”

You took a deep breath, weighing your emotions. “I’ll be fine. I have to be. We have a job to do, and I can’t let my feelings get in the way of that.” You tried to sound confident, but uncertainty crept in.

Emily smiled, a mix of support and understanding shining in her eyes. “I know you’re strong. Just remember, we’re in this together. And if it gets overwhelming, I’m right here.”

“Thanks, Em. I appreciate that.” You felt a swell of gratitude for her unwavering support. “Let’s get the team together and see what we can dig up on this case.”

Emily nodded, pushing herself up from the chair. “I’ll gather everyone for a briefing. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

As she left your office, you couldn’t shake the feeling of impending change in the air. The thought of the case intertwined with the possibility of seeing Hotch again sent your mind racing. There was a part of you that yearned to see him, to hear his voice again, but another part was afraid of what it might mean for the rehabilitation of your heart shattered.

After a few moments, you collected yourself and headed to the conference room, determined to focus on the task ahead. You were a profiler, after all, and you wouldn’t let personal feelings cloud your judgment. But as you stepped into the room and looked at your team, the looming presence of Hotch hung over you like a shadow.

The bustling atmosphere of Congress was overwhelming, the echo of voices mingling with the rustle of papers and the faint sounds of distant conversations, as crowds of people moved past you every single second. Somehow you hadn't thought the building would be this busy.

You moved through the maze of hallways, the weight of the case hanging over you like a heavy cloud. After an intense briefing with the team and several hours of sifting through documents, you decided a quick coffee break was necessary. It was a small reprieve, a moment to gather your thoughts before diving back into the investigation.

As you stepped into the crowded café, the rich aroma of coffee filled your senses, providing a brief comfort. As you waited for your order you glanced around, noting the throngs of aides and politicians, some deep in conversation, others lost in their phones. After what felt like an eternity, you finally received your drink, you ordered a cappuccino, absently stirring the foam as you made your way back toward the senator’s office.

Navigating the marble corridors was not easy, you focused, trying to remember the way you had come from. The noise of the café faded behind you as you moved further away, and the hum of energy around you began to fade as you thought about the case details you had just discussed with your team. But as you rounded a corner, lost in thought, everything changed in an instant.

There, just a few feet away, stood Aaron Hotchner. Your Aaron.

Time seemed to freeze. The world around you faded into a blur, and all you could see was him. He looked older nothing like he had looked on the TV, more refined, better even, yet he still carried that familiar intensity in his dark eyes. It was as if the years had melted away, and you were right back to those last moments before he disappeared from your life. Your heart raced, the mix of emotions overwhelming as you locked eyes with him.

For a brief moment, neither of you moved, caught in an electric silence that stretched between you. The familiar ache of longing hit you hard in the chest, twisting your stomach into knots. Memories rushed back — laughter, warmth, the comfort of his presence — but so did the pain of his absence and the betrayal you felt when he left.

In your shock, you didn’t realize your hand had loosened its grip on the coffee cup until it slipped from your fingers. The porcelain collided with the polished floor, shattering into a million tiny pieces, the sound echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet hallway. The hot liquid spilled out, soaking into the pristine marble and staining the floor with brown patches.

“Oh God,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. You stepped back, embarrassment flooding your cheeks, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him.

Hotch said your name, his voice low and steady, yet laced with an emotion that mirrored your own shock. He took a cautious step toward you, as if afraid you might disappear again. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I,” you managed, your voice trembling as you fought to regain your composure. But the words felt inadequate, too mundane for the weight of the moment. A wave of emotion crashed over you, and the dam holding back your feelings began to crumble. “Do you even realize what you put me through, Aaron? Do you know how many nights I spent wondering if you were dead or alive? How many times I replayed those last moments in my mind, wishing I could have changed things?”

Hotch’s expression shifted, pain flashing across his face. “I never wanted to hurt you. I thought I was doing what was best for Jack!”

“Best for Jack?” you repeated incredulously, your voice rising with each word. “What about me? What about my feelings? You just left! You abandoned me without so much as a goodbye! I had to rebuild my life without you, and all you can say is you were trying to protect him. It doesn’t make any sense!”

He took a step forward, frustration mingling with sadness in his eyes. “I had no choice! I had to keep you both safe! Do you really think I wanted to leave you behind? You think it was easy for me? It wasn’t! I’ve thought about you every single day!”

The sincerity in his voice pierced through your anger, but you couldn’t let it go. “It’s too little, too late, Aaron! You can’t just show up out of nowhere after six years and expect everything to be okay. You made your choice!”

“I never stopped loving you!” he shouted, his voice filled with raw emotion. The admission hung between you, heavy and charged, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

You stepped closer, eyes locked onto his, fueled by a mix of anger and disbelief. “How can you say that? You left me! You made a choice, and you chose to protect your son over me. I had to learn to live with that — learn to live without you!”

“And it killed me! I had to protect my family, and in doing so, I destroyed my own happiness. But you have to know, you were always in my heart. I never wanted to hurt you!” His voice softened slightly, the intensity shifting to desperation. “I thought you’d move on, that you’d find someone better who could give you what you deserve.”

“Better?” you scoffed, your anger giving way to an ache in your chest. “You think I wanted anyone else? No one could ever compare to you, Aaron. I spent years waiting for you, hoping you’d come back, that we could fix this.”

He took a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Then why didn’t you reach out? Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“Because you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with me!” You shot back, tears of frustration burning your eyes. “I had to respect your choice, but I thought you’d at least have the decency to contact me after everything we went through together!”

“I didn’t want to put you in danger! I thought it was for the best!” His voice rose again, echoing through the hallway, but there was a desperate plea beneath his anger.

“Best for who, Aaron?” you demanded, your emotions spilling over. “You think running for Congress is going to fix everything? You think I want to see you on TV every day, talking about policies and values when all I want is to talk to you about us?”

Before you could finish your thought, he closed the gap between you in an instant, grasping your arms gently but firmly. The intensity in his eyes held you captive, and then he kissed you. It was a collision of pent-up emotions, a heated, desperate kiss that spoke of everything unsaid. Your lips pressed against his, teeth grazing against teeth, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background.

You lost yourself in the kiss, a whirlwind of anger, longing, and the familiar warmth that had always existed between you. It felt like no time had passed at all, yet every moment you had spent apart surged back, filling the space with an urgency you hadn’t felt in years.

Without breaking the kiss, you found yourselves moving, bodies instinctively drawn toward his office down the hall, Hotch leading the way. The door stood ajar, but you barely registered it as you stumbled inside, Hotch pulling you in after him. He nudged the door shut with his foot, the soft click of the latch echoing in the silence as he pressed you against it.

You barely noticed the cluttered desk or the framed photographs lining the walls. All that mattered was the heat radiating from him, the way his hands cupped your face, thumb brushing over your cheek. He kissed you again, deeper this time, a fierce claim that made your heart race.

With each touch, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, leaving only the intoxicating rush of being so close again. You could feel the weight of his desperation, the years of longing that had built up between you, igniting a fire within you that had never truly gone out.

Finally, as you both breathed heavily against each other, he stepped back slightly, just enough to turn the lock behind him. The finality of the action made your heart pound even harder, the implications of this moment crashing down around you.

Before you knew it, Hotch crashed his lips into yours once again.

“Goddamn it, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered into your neck, as he moved his hand under your skirt, you could feel his smirk against your skin. He was kissing you again, his fingers sliding up your body until they reached your breasts. You arched back into him with a soft sigh of pleasure, your hips rolling against his growing erection. You could feel how much he wanted you and it made you even more desperate for him.

You broke away from the kiss, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. “Fuck me,” you said your voice sounded rough, still thick with lust from the kiss. You could see the flicker of pleasure that danced across his face, the fire burning in his eyes when he heard your words.

He didn’t speak though, he just pushed you back against his desk and as your ass met the wooden edge he lifted you up onto it by your things. The movement made your skirt ride up further, you tried to pull it back down out of instinct, but Hotch stopped you with a firm grip on your wrist. You gasped when his hands moved to grab the edge of your panties as he ripped them off. That had always been his favorite thing to do. Nothing had changed.

You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he had two fingers buried deep inside your cunt. “Fuck,” you hissed against his lips. He added a third finger and you gasped, your nails clawing into his back as you braced yourself, pleasure radiating through your body. You were already close to coming, desperate from the lack of a man's touch, he’d only been fingering you for a few seconds, but it was a much-needed release that you hadn't realized you had needed. He was determined to make you cum, was going to make you cum in his office, on his desk. You truly hoped that his door was locked.

Hotch leaned in and kissed you again, sucking at your bottom lip and then moving down to your neck. He bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, you moaned in response. Your legs spread around him and he groaned as you rocked your hips against his hand, trying so desperately to chase your release.

“Fuck, I need to get inside you,” he muttered against your skin. "I need to feel that pussy again. My pussy." He growled.

You felt a shiver run through your body at his words. “Please,” you begged, “now.”

You didn’t know if you unbuttoned his pants or he did, but somehow they were already around his ankles and he was pushing into you. His cock pulsed as he bottomed out, clouding your vision with the pure bliss from finally feeling him again. You let out a breathless moan as he stretched you out. It had been way too long since you'd felt the touch of a man you thought. His touch. Your hands slid down his back trying to pull him closer in an attempt to push him deeper inside of you. He groaned as he started to thrust into you. You felt every ridge of his cock as he moved.

The rhythm was hard and fast, your skin slapping together in loud claps. Your pussy was dripping, slick with wetness, your muscles clenching around him with every thrust as if you were trying to lock him in place inside your heat. You cried out when he pushed you down flat on his desk, his arms wrapped around your body as he started fucking you with the raw essence of an animal. The pleasure ran through your head and you nearly came right there.

Hotch grabbed your hair and yanked your head back. “You’re going to cum on my cock, aren’t you?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” you hissed, trying to move your hips under him. Your teeth gritted, eyes rolling back into your head as your breathing sped up, almost hyperventilating from the immense pleasure.

“You like being fucked on my desk, don’t you?”

“Fuck,” you moaned.

He slammed into you and then stilled. You whined in frustration as he held still inside of you. “Tell me. Use your words!”

“Yes sir,” you agreed, hoping it would get him to start moving again. It worked like a charm and he quickly slammed into you once more before fucking you into oblivion again. Hotch hit your G-spot with every thrust, you could feel your orgasm building up inside, the knot tightening, dangerously close to snapping in half. You felt him swell inside of you, his cock pushing into you harder and faster than before, as his thighs started vibration, you knew he was close too.

He leaned down over you and kissed you as you came. He swallowed down your cries as his hips stuttered. His cock felt like it was going to split you in half, but it felt so good as it sent you into a new level of pleasure. He came hard, hot liquid filling you up, you clung to his shoulders and cried out again as he groaned into your mouth.

Hotch pulled away slowly, his breath ragged as he held you close for a moment longer. The heat of the moment lingered in the air, but as he took a step back, you felt the loss of his warmth immediately. He gently helped you shift into a sitting position on the edge of his desk, his hands steadying you as you settled.

He moved to stand between your legs, the space filled with unspoken words and the weight of years apart. His eyes searched yours, an intensity in his gaze that made your heart flutter. Hotch cupped your face, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheekbones.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. The intimacy of the gesture, so simple yet so profound, stirred something deep within you. It felt as though he had never left, as if no time had passed at all since that fateful day in his office so many years ago where he had just been... gone.

He pressed tender kisses to your lips, each one a promise, a reassurance that this moment was real. You leaned into him, surrendering to the familiar comfort of his presence as you wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head against his chest. You let the tears that had been building up finally spill over. They rolled down your cheeks, mingling with the remnants of the heat that still pulsed between you.

“I… I met up with Jack,” you admitted your voice barely above a whisper, laden with emotion. The moment hung heavy in the air. You could see the flicker of surprise in Hotch’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by understanding. “He’s grown up so much. He’s… he's an adult now.”

Hotch’s expression softened, a mix of pride and sadness flickering across his features. “He’s always been a remarkable kid,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m glad you two were able to reconnect.”

“I missed you both so much,” you confessed, the weight of your words crashing over you like a wave. The years of longing, the nights spent wondering about him and Jack, came rushing back. “It’s been so hard, Aaron. Watching you on TV, hearing you talk about your values and the future... all I wanted was to be a part of that future again.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know. I wanted to reach out so many times, but I didn’t know if I was worth it to you. I thought you’d moved on. Didn't want to disrupt your life.”

You shook your head, a mix of determination and vulnerability surging within you. “I never moved on. I just learned to live without you. But I don’t want to do that anymore.”

Hotch stepped closer again, his hands still cradling your face as if he were afraid you might disappear. “Then let’s try again,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice melting the last remnants of doubt lingering in your heart. “Let’s see if we can make this work, for us and for Jack.”

You swallowed hard, hope igniting within you like a flame. “I want that,” you whispered, a smile breaking through your tears. “I really want that.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours once more, the kiss gentle but filled with an undercurrent of promise. It was a reaffirmation of everything you both had lost and everything you hoped to regain. In that moment, surrounded by the chaos of the world outside, you felt a sense of peace and belonging you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” he said, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze, his eyes bright with determination. “We’ll figure this out together.”

With your heart full and tears still glistening in your eyes, you nodded. For the first time in years, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders. The future ahead felt uncertain, but for the first time, it was a future you were excited to face — together.

@vikingstoner69

[pucksandpower]

Leave My Mark

Day 4 → Bruise Marking 💋 Lando Norris

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

Lando’s eyes flicker with something that’s not quite anger, not quite fear, but somewhere in the middle — a dark, consuming tension that sends a shiver down your spine. The hotel room is dimly lit, just a sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. He’s pacing now, his movements sharp, precise, a contrast to the chaotic mess of emotions wrestling within him.

“You know what it looked like, right?” His voice is low, almost too calm, like the quiet before a storm. He stops and looks at you, eyes narrowing as if he’s trying to read something off your face, something he doesn’t want to find. “The way you were laughing with him … the way you touched his arm.”

You fold your arms, trying to keep your voice steady. “Lando, it was nothing. Oscar needed someone to talk to, and I was just being there for him. As a friend.”

“A friend?” The words leave his mouth like they’re poisoned, like they burn his tongue. “Friends don’t look at each other like that. They don’t touch each other like that.”

You blink, surprised at the venom in his tone. “Like what?”

His jaw clenches, and he takes a step closer, the space between you evaporating. “Like you’re more than just friends. Like he could be something more to you.”

You shake your head, exhaling slowly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He’s closer now, so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body, can see the way his chest rises and falls in a rhythm that’s too fast, too irregular. “Because all I see is you smiling at him, touching him, and I can’t stand it.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating. You swallow hard, trying to push back the rising tide of frustration and disbelief. “Lando, this is crazy. I’m with you. Only you.”

He stares at you, his expression unreadable, his eyes dark and stormy. For a moment, you think he’s going to say something — something sharp, something cruel — but instead, he reaches out, his hand brushing your neck. His touch is firm, almost possessive, and your breath catches as his fingers wrap around your throat, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to make you aware of how easily he could.

“You’re mine,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “You know that, right? You’re mine, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest, a mix of fear and something else, something you can’t quite name. “Lando …”

His grip tightens just slightly, and your pulse quickens. “Say it.”

“What?”

“Say you’re mine.” His voice is low, almost dangerous, like a predator cornering its prey. “Say it, and mean it.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his hand, the intensity of his stare. “I’m yours, Lando. Only yours.”

Something flickers in his eyes — satisfaction, maybe, or relief — and his grip loosens, just a fraction. “Good.” He’s breathing hard, his forehead nearly touching yours. “Because I won’t share you. Not with him, not with anyone.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid thud of his heart under your fingertips. “Lando, I love you. I wouldn’t … I couldn’t … Oscar’s just a friend. I was only trying to help him.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, as if he’s trying to calm himself down. When he opens them again, there’s something softer there, something more vulnerable. “I know. I know that, deep down. But when I see you with him, it drives me crazy. I can’t help it.”

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest. “You don’t have to be jealous. I’m here with you. I chose you.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. “I just … I hate the thought of you being close to someone else. I can’t stand it.”

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. “Then don’t think about it. Think about us, right now. I’m here, with you. That’s all that matters.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then, slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that’s both tender and desperate, like he’s trying to prove something to himself, to you.

You kiss him back, your hands sliding up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The tension between you dissolves into something else, something warm and intense and consuming. His hands move to your waist, pulling you even closer, until there’s no space left between you.

When he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. “You drive me insane, you know that?”

You smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “Likewise.”

He laughs softly, but there’s still that edge in his voice, that undercurrent of possessiveness that hasn’t quite gone away. “But you’re mine, right? Only mine?”

You nod, your heart swelling with something warm and fierce. “Only yours.”

He presses his forehead against yours, his hands sliding up to cup your face. “I love you. God, I love you so much it scares me.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “I love you too, Lando. More than anything.”

For a moment, there’s only the sound of your breathing, the warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart. Then he pulls you into another kiss, this one deeper, more urgent, like he’s trying to claim you, to make sure you understand just how much you mean to him.

His hands move to your throat again, fingers wrapping around your neck, and this time, there’s no mistaking the intent behind his touch. He’s claiming you, marking you as his, and you don’t resist, don’t pull away, because you want it, need it just as much as he does.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, his grip tightening just enough to make your breath hitch. “Say it.”

Your voice is barely a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m yours.”

His grip tightens further, and for a moment, you can’t breathe, can’t think, can only feel the intensity of his gaze, the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then he releases you, just enough to let you breathe again, and you gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You’re mine,” he says again, his voice rough, desperate. “And I’m yours.”

You nod, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Yes.”

His lips crash against yours, and this time, the kiss is hungry, almost savage, as if he’s trying to devour you, to consume every part of you. You kiss him back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together, your bodies entwined. He looks at you, his eyes burning with something primal, something fierce. “I won’t let anyone take you away from me,” he murmurs, his voice raw, broken.

You shake your head, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips. “No one could.”

He closes his eyes, his breath shuddering as he pulls you into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “Stay with me. Always.”

You press a kiss to his shoulder, your heart swelling with love, with something deeper, something unbreakable. “Always.”

For a while, you just hold each other, the storm that raged between you slowly calming into something quieter, more peaceful. But there’s still that undercurrent of tension, that edge that hasn’t quite faded, and you know it’s going to take time — time for him to fully trust, to fully believe that you’re his and only his.

But for now, this is enough. The two of you, together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten, irrelevant. And in this moment, you know that no matter what happens, no matter what obstacles you face, you’ll face them together, as long as you both hold on, as long as you both remember that this, right here, is what matters most.

And with Lando’s arms around you, his breath warm against your skin, you know that you will.

***

Morning light filters through the hotel curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. Lando wakes first, his eyes slowly adjusting to the light as he shifts under the covers.

The first thing he notices is the warmth of your body curled up beside him, your hair splayed across the pillow, your breathing steady and calm. For a moment, he just watches you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he remembers the night before, the intensity of it, the way you gave yourself to him so completely.

But then, as his eyes trail down your neck, his smile fades. There, on the pale skin of your throat, are faint bruises, the marks of his hands, a reminder of how fiercely he held you, how desperately he wanted to claim you as his. A pang of guilt twists in his chest, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing gently over the bruises, as if he can erase them with a touch.

You stir at the contact, blinking sleepily as you wake up, your eyes meeting his. “Morning,” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” he replies, but his voice is quieter, more subdued, as his fingers continue to trace the marks on your neck. “Did I … did I hurt you?”

You frown slightly, still half-asleep, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

He swallows, his gaze fixed on the bruises. “Your neck … I didn’t mean to leave these.”

You reach up, your fingers grazing the marks, and then you understand. “Oh.” Your voice is soft, a little uncertain, as you glance at him. “It’s okay, Lando. They don’t hurt.”

But he’s already moving, sitting up and reaching for something on the nightstand. “I should’ve been more careful. Let me … let me put something on them.” He finds a small tube of ointment in his bag and unscrews the cap, squeezing a bit onto his fingers before turning back to you.

“Lando, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “Please.”

You nod, sitting up and letting the blanket fall away from your shoulders, exposing the marks on your neck fully. He leans in closer, his expression concentrated, almost tender, as he carefully dabs the ointment onto the bruises, his fingers warm against your skin. His touch is so gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid of hurting you further.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough with guilt. He presses a soft kiss to one of the bruises, his lips lingering there for a moment. “I didn’t mean to …”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, your fingers brushing against his cheek, trying to soothe him. “I know you didn’t mean to.”

He moves to another bruise, rubbing the ointment in slowly, methodically, before kissing the spot again. “I got carried away.”

You bite your lip, hesitating for a moment before you finally speak. “I … I liked it.”

He stops, his hand frozen against your skin as he looks up at you, his eyes searching yours. “You did?”

You nod, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “Yeah. I liked how … how you took control. How you made me feel like I was completely yours.”

Something in his eyes softens, the guilt slowly ebbing away, replaced by something else — something darker, more intense. “You liked it?” he repeats, his voice quieter, almost disbelieving.

“Yes,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “It … it turned me on, Lando.”

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You liked how I made you mine?”

A shiver runs down your spine, and you nod, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes locked onto yours, his hand moving to cup your face. “Say it again.”

You swallow, your heart pounding as you meet his gaze. “I liked it. I liked how you took control.”

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, and he watches you intently, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. “Tell me what you liked.”

Your breath hitches, and for a moment, you can’t find the words, too overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. But then, slowly, you find your voice. “I liked how you held me … how you made me feel like I was completely yours. I liked how … how strong you were, how you didn’t let go.”

His eyes darken further, and he leans in, capturing your lips in a fierce, hungry kiss. His hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel the heat radiating off his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch. When he pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“God, you drive me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you whisper back, your hands sliding up to his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He kisses you again, softer this time, but no less intense, and when he pulls back, his hands move to your throat, his fingers tracing the bruises with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “You liked how I took control,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you, as if he’s trying to wrap his head around it.

“Yes,” you reply, your voice trembling with anticipation, with the need to feel that control again, to lose yourself in him.

He looks at you, his gaze piercing, and then, slowly, deliberately, he pushes you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. His hands find your wrists, pinning them above your head, and you gasp, your pulse quickening as you feel the weight of him against you, the way his body presses you into the mattress.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his voice low, rough.

“Of course,” you breathe, your eyes wide, your heart pounding.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your neck, against the bruises he left, and you feel a thrill of excitement, of anticipation, as he kisses each one, his lips warm and soft against your skin. “I want to make you feel good,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I want to make you fall apart.”

You swallow hard, your breath catching in your throat as his words sink in, as his hands move down your body, trailing fire in their wake. “Lando …”

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, with something deeper, something more intense than you’ve ever seen before. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, making you shiver.

“I want you,” you reply, your voice trembling with need, with the overwhelming desire that’s building inside you. “I want you to take control.”

He smiles, a slow, wicked smile that makes your heart skip a beat, and then he’s kissing you again, hard and demanding, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you against him. You can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, the way he’s trying to keep himself in check, and it only makes you want him more.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, your voice barely audible, but you know he hears it, because he groans softly, his hands tightening on your hips.

“You don’t have to ask,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost dangerous. “I’m going to give you everything you want.”

And he does. His hands are everywhere, touching, caressing, claiming, as he makes you feel things you didn’t know you could feel, as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, until you’re gasping, trembling, completely at his mercy.

He’s relentless, his mouth on your skin, his hands on your body, as he takes you apart piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but the feel of him, the sound of his voice, the overwhelming need that consumes you.

“Lando,” you gasp, your hands clutching at the sheets, your body arching against his, desperate for more, for everything.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, his voice rough, raw, as he pushes you closer, closer, until you can’t take it anymore, until you’re falling, shattering, completely undone.

When it’s over, when you’re lying there in his arms, your heart still racing, your breath still coming in uneven gasps, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek, your eyes meeting his. “You didn’t hurt me, Lando. You made me feel … amazing. I’ve never felt like that before.”

He smiles, a small, relieved smile, and he leans down to kiss you, soft and slow, his lips lingering on yours. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice full of emotion, full of something deep and unbreakable. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your heart swelling with love, with something even deeper, something that goes beyond words. “So much.”

For a while, you just lie there together, your bodies entwined, breathing slowly coming back to normal. Lando’s hand absentmindedly caresses your side, his fingers tracing soft circles on your skin. The quiet in the room feels like a protective cocoon, safe and warm, where nothing exists but the two of you.

Then, after a long silence, Lando shifts slightly, his hand moving up to your neck again, his fingers brushing lightly over the bruises he left. You feel him smile against your hair, and his voice is low, almost a purr as he murmurs, “You bruise so prettily, you know that?”

You shiver at his words, a thrill of something dark and thrilling running through you. He doesn’t stop, his fingers trailing over each mark with an almost possessive reverence. “I love seeing these on you,” he continues, his voice a soft, dangerous whisper. “Knowing that I put them there. That you’re mine.”

You can feel the intensity in his words, the way they’re weighted with a fierce, undeniable possessiveness, and it sends a pulse of heat through you, a mix of fear and excitement that makes your heart race. “Lando …” you breathe, your voice trembling, your body already responding to the way he’s touching you, the way he’s talking to you.

He shifts, hovering over you, his gaze dark and hungry as he takes in your flushed cheeks, your parted lips. “I want to mark you up even more,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “I want everyone to see these bruises and know exactly who you belong to.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your pulse quickening at the thought of it, at the idea of wearing his marks, of being claimed by him in such a visible, undeniable way. “You want that?” You ask, your voice shaky, filled with anticipation.

His eyes meet yours, and there’s something fierce and possessive in his gaze as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I want to leave my mark on you,” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous. “I want to bruise every inch of your skin until there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that you’re mine.”

You shiver at his words, a thrill of excitement running through you, and you nod, unable to form words as the intensity of his desire, of his need, crashes over you. “Please,” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling, your body already responding to the promise in his words.

He smiles, a slow, wicked smile that makes your heart race, and then his hands are on you again, his fingers tracing your skin, finding every bruise he left, pressing down just enough to make you gasp, to remind you of the intensity of the night before. “You like this, don’t you?” He asks, his voice a dark, teasing whisper. “You like knowing that I’ve marked you, that everyone can see how much I want you.”

“Yes,” you breathe, your voice barely audible, your body arching under his touch, desperate for more.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses to your neck, to the bruises he left, his lips warm against your skin, his breath hot and heavy. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with a dark, possessive hunger. “So perfect. I can’t wait to mark you up even more.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel your breath quicken, your body already responding to the promise in his voice, to the way he’s touching you, the way he’s claiming you. “Lando …”

He smirks against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck, just enough to make you gasp, to send a sharp thrill of pleasure-pain through you. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice rough, dangerous. “And I’m going to make sure everyone knows it.”

Before you can respond, his hands move lower, one hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other trailing down your body, teasing, exploring. His touch is slow, deliberate, as if he’s savoring the moment, as if he’s taking his time to appreciate every reaction, every shiver, every gasp that escapes your lips.

Then, without warning, his hand slides between your legs, finding your clit, and he pinches down, cruel and relentless. You cry out, your body arching against him, the sudden intensity of it sending a shockwave of pleasure-pain through you, unraveling you completely.

“Lando!” You gasp, your voice trembling, your body quaking under his touch.

He doesn’t relent, his fingers moving with a ruthless precision, his other hand still holding your wrists tightly above your head, keeping you pinned, keeping you at his mercy. “You like this, don’t you?” He whispers, his voice dark and teasing, as he continues to torment you, to push you further and further over the edge.

“Yes!” You cry out, unable to control the sounds escaping you, the intensity of it too much, too overwhelming.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy as he whispers, “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours!” You gasp, your voice breaking, your body shaking with the force of the pleasure coursing through you.

His fingers pinch down harder, and you cry out again, your body completely out of control, completely at his mercy. “Say it again,” he demands, his voice rough, filled with a dark, possessive hunger.

“I’m yours, Lando!” You cry, your voice trembling, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you fall apart completely, your body shattering under his touch.

He watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, his hand relentless as he pushes you over the edge again and again, until you’re nothing but a trembling, gasping mess beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice low, rough, as he watches you unravel. “You’re mine. All mine.”

Finally, when you think you can’t take it anymore, when your body is trembling and shaking with the force of the pleasure-pain, he slows, his touch becoming gentler, more tender. He releases your wrists, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that have escaped down your cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with awe, with something deep and unbreakable. “So perfect.”

You’re still gasping for breath, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all, but you manage to meet his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of love, desire, and something deeper, something that goes beyond words. “Lando …” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest.

He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand still cupping your face, his touch gentle, tender. “I love you,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whisper back, your voice filled with all the emotion, all the love, all the desire you feel for him.

He pulls you into his arms, holding you close, his body warm and comforting against yours. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, his voice soft, filled with regret. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, pressing a kiss to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, the warmth of his skin. “You didn’t hurt me, Lando,” you whisper back, your voice soft, filled with love. “You made me feel … everything.”

He smiles, a small, relieved smile, and he presses another kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close. “You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a soft, possessive murmur. “And I’m never letting you go.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love, with something deeper, something that goes beyond words, and you snuggle closer to him, feeling the warmth, the safety of his embrace. “I’m yours,” you whisper back, your voice filled with all the emotion, all the love you feel for him. “Always.”

[cherry-luvz]

Mrs.bodyguard - H.YJ

Genre - Smut

Warning- G!P Yunjin, sex, Ceo x bodyguard, sex without protection, Don’t be a dud- wrap your bud, mommy kink.

Paring - GP!Dom!Yunjin x Ceo!fem!Reader.

Synopsis - Yunjin is your bodyguard, your the boss.. she has to protect you in any situation, any right..?

Word count - 4.8K

Yunjin - RED.

Reader - WHITE.

You were at a friend's, Hanni’s, party, when an unsettling guy cornered me, leering. He said his name was Kang Junwoo, he was apparently one of Hanni’s friend.

He gripped my arms. "Don't leave yet, beautiful.. we were just getting started,” he insisted.

"Back off, I'm taken" You snapped.

"Really? But I didn't see—"

Without hesitation, You called over your bodyguard, Huh Yunjin. In a clever ruse, You pretended to kiss her by pressing your thumb to her lips. When You pulled away, You went and confronted the guy.

"Does that prove l'm taken?" You challenged him. 

You look back at Yunjin then at the man, The man reluctantly stepped back, his expression a mix of disbelief and disappointment. You exhaled a sigh of relief turning to Yunjin, meeting her stoic gaze.

You I gave her an awkward smile, your cheeks turning pink.

“Uh..” Yunjin broke the silence of the atmosphere around you guys, it sounded like she wanted to say something but stopped herself.

You cleared your throat, your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. You took a step closer to Yunjin, her presence suddenly bringing a sense of comfort to you.

"Sorry for that... It was the only way—” You sighed, “It was the only way I could think of that would make him back off..”

She nodded.

You shifted your weight, the adrenaline still coursing through you. You couldn't help but steal glances at Yunjin, studying her calm and composed demeanor. After a moment of silence, you fidgeted with the hem of my dress, searching for something to say.

"Uh... Thanks for playing along, I guess..I didn't mean to drag you into that whole...thing" You muttered, feeling an odd mixture of awkwardness and attraction.

Your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of her, her mere presence making me feel flustered. The silence between you guys stretched out, making the tension and attraction increasingly palpable. You bit your lip, struggling to find the right words to break the tension.

"You know..." You started, breaking the silence, my voice a bit shaky. You shifted closer to Yunjin, the gap between us gradually shrinking. "You're quite good at being a pretend girlfriend"

"I am?" She looked down at you, her height being 5'7 and yours being 5'5...

Staring up at her, you realized just how much taller she was compared to you. The gap in our heights only added to the captivating dynamic between you

Both. You swallowed hard, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your chest.

"Yeah..." You replied, your voice slightly hushed. The intensity of the moment grew, the air filled with unspoken tension.

"You played the part really well" you managed to say, your gaze locked with hers.

You took a step closer, your bodies only inches apart now. The proximity was making your heart race, your mind swimming with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. You could feel her presence, the heat of her body radiating toward me. Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers gently tracing the line of her jaw, your touch feather-light.

"You...you have quite a convincing presence, you know?" You whispered, your voice barely heard above the music that filled the room. My fingers lingered on her jaw, the touch sending a wave of electricity through me. You tried to conceal your trembling hands, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

"Hhmm you think so...?" She asked.

You nodded, your fingers continuing their path along yourjaw, slowly tracing the curve of her neck. You could feel the rapid flutter of your own heartbeat, the intimate contact between you two sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

"Very much so..." Your murmured, your voice a low, sultry tone. "You're almost too good at this"

Your fingers reached the nape of her neck, your touch lingering there. You guys faces were mere inches apart now, the two of yall’s breaths mingling in the air. The heat of her body, the sound of her steady breathing, the scent of her skin -everything was overwhelming in the best possible way.

Your lips parted slightly, your voice dropping to a soft whisper.

"Maybe a bit too good, even"

"What are you implying, boss...?"

Boss. The word sent a jolt through your heart, a mix of excitement and power surging through you. You swallowed, trying to hold on to your composure, but the heat between the two of you was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

"What if..." You began, your voice a mere whisper, "What if this wasn't just pretend...?"

You stared up at her, your gaze intense and filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. The distance between the two of you had all but vanished, your bodies now tightly pressed together. You looked at her face, taking in every detail: the curve of her lips, the depth of her eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks.

Slowly, you let her hands roam over her shoulders, your touch both intimate and yearning.

You leaned in, your breath hot against her neck, your lips close enough to graze her skin. The scent of her perfume filled your nostrils, making your head spin and your heart race even faster.

"What if...what if I wanted this to be real?" You murmured, your words a mere breath against her ear. You let my fingers trail along her collarbone, the need to touch her almost excruciating.

"And how are you implying that?"

Your hand traced a path down her arm, your fingertips lingering on the exposed skin. You took a shaky breath, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. It was as if all your carefully built walls were crumbling down, leaving you vulnerable and desperate.

"I'm not just implying, Yunjin," You whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your words. "I'm telling you. I want you. This. Us. To be real."

You pressed your body closer to hers, seeking her warmth and solace. You could feel her pulse under your fingertips, a rapid rhythm that mirrored your own wild heartbeat.

The world around the two of you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a state of heightened awareness.

"Please..." You murmured, your voice a desperate plea. "Please tell me you want this too."

"I do feel the same..and.. I want to show you that a feel the same..." she smiled at you.

A wave of relief washed over me, my heart swelling from her words. The mixture of tension and desire between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Your lips curled into a soft smile, a surge of happiness coursing through you.

"Show me," you whispered, my voice filled with longing. "Show me how you feel, Prove it to me."

She cups your face... "After the party..."

You shivered under yunjin’s touch, the sensation of her fingers against your skin sending a wave of heat throughout your body. You leaned into her hand, craving the closeness and the reassurance it provided.

"After the party," you repeated, your voice a soft, eager whisper. Your eyes met hers, a silent promise of unspoken desires hanging in the air between the both of us.

A few hours later - AFTER THE PARTY

The party had finally come to an end, and you found myself in the confines of my car, Yunjin by your side. The tension between you guys where was palpable, the silence in the car almost deafening.

You could hear your own heart pounding in your ears, my anticipation growing with every passing moment. You snuck a glance at her, your breath catching in your throat as their eyes met. The journey from the party to your penthouse felt endless, each passing minute only heightening your desperation to be alone with her.

After reaching our destination, Yunjin parked and got out the car...

You followed, my movements shaky from a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside of me.

You waited as Yunjin locked the car, your eyes never leaving her. The thought of being alone with her, finally feeling her touch and losing yourself in the moment, was almost overwhelming. You took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart.

"Let's go up, shall we?" You said, your voice a little shaky as I led the way. As we stepped inside, you couldn't help but fidget with your fingers, your mind racing with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation.

Yunjin follows you inside the building...

You both walked through the elegant lobby, the soft sounds of our footsteps echoing in the empty space. Ypu led the way to the elevator, your mind swirling with a myriad of thoughts and emotions. You pressed the button and waited for the doors to open, the silence between the both pf of growing more and more charged with each passing second.

As the elevator doors opened, You stepped inside, your heart hammering in your chest.

Yunjin followed, her presence a source of both reassurance and excitement. The elevator began its ascent, the small space suddenly feeling even more intimate. You stole glances at her, your eyes scanning her features, taking in every detail.

You shifted slightly as the elevator climbed higher, the tension between the both of you guysbecoming almost unbearable. Part of you wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull her close and satisfy the ache that had been building all night. But another part of you was terrified, uncertain of how to proceed in this uncharted territory.

Finally, the elevator reached the penthouse and the doors opened, revealing the luxurious space beyond. I led the way inside, my steps a bit shaky.

The room was dimly lit, a soft, intimate ambiance enveloping us. Without a word, you turned to face her, the weight of our unspoken desires hanging heavily in the air.

You looked into her eyes, your breath catching in your throat. You couldn't hold myself back any longer. Closing the distance between them, you reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as they grazed her cheek. The feel of her skin under your fingertips sent a shiver down my spine, your heart fluttering with a mixture of emotions.

Yunjin looks back at her.

Our eyes locked, a torrent of emotions swirling between us. You took a step closer, you guys bodies almost touching. The proximity was making your head spin, your mind clouded with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. You let your fingers trail down her neck, the touch gentle yet filled with need.

My eyes flicked down to her lips, my gaze lingering for a moment. The urge to taste her, to feel the softness of her mouth against mine, was almost overwhelming.

But I held back, my breath coming in shallow gasps, my heart hammering in my chest.

Looks at her lips...

I could see the desire in her eyes, the same hunger that was burning within me.

Seeing her gaze fixed on your lips sent a jolt of electricity through me, you resolve weakening with each passing moment. You inched closer, your body pressed against hers, the heat between the both of you almost unbearable.

"I want you," You murmured, your voice a mere whisper. My hands moved to her waist, my fingers gripping the fabric of her shirt as if trying to anchor yourself in the moment.

You leaned in, your lips just millimeters away from hers, the need to taste her becoming almost unbearable.

"Me too..." Yunjin replied.

You could feel her breath against your lips, the words sending a shiver down your spine. The last remnants of restraint vanished, and you couldn't hold back any longer. With a low moan, you closed the gap between you two, your lips finally meeting hers in a desperate, searing kiss.

The feel of her mouth against mine was electric, sending waves of pleasure through my body. You deepened the kiss, your hands roaming over her body, exploring every contour, desperate to feel her as closely as possible.

French kissing...

The kiss grew more intense, the two of your mouths moving together in a passionate dance.

Your tongue slipped into her mouth, exploring and tasting her, the sensations driving me closer to the edge. Your hands moved to her hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled her closer, feeling her body press against yours.

After a little make out session, you pull Yunjin into your bedroom.

The kiss finally broke, and you leaned my forehead against hers, both of us panting heavily, the air between us charged with a mixture of desire and anticipation. You took her hand, leading her into the bedroom, your heart pounding in your chest with each step.

The bedroom was dimly lit, the soft glow of the ambient lights casting shadows on the walls. You closed the door behind us, enclosing us in the sanctuary of my private space. Turning to face her, you took in her flushed cheeks and disheveled hair, feeling a fresh wave of desire surge through me.

Yunjin went and sat on her bed, my back against the headboard... you watched as she settled onto the bed, her back resting against the headboard.

The sight of her there, in your bed, was almost more than I could handle. Your eyes roamed over her, taking in every detail, the gentle curve of her neck, the way her breath hitched in her chest. It took every bit of my willpower not to pounce on her then and there.

You walked over to her and straddled her, Yunjin was in her own ceo's bed as you guys made out... you wanted yunjin..

Your hands on Yunjin’s shoulders, Your fingers playing with the fabric of her tie. Inbetween kisses, a low moan escaped your lips, your body pressed against hers.

Yunjin could feel the heat between the both of you, my breathing becoming heavier as the passion between us intensified. You pulled away, looking into yunjin’s eyes with a mixture of desire and need.

"I want you... So bad" You whispered, your desire clear in your voice.

“Hmm you want me so bad..? How bad are we talking Ms.Y/n?” She asked you as she rubbed your sides, “so fucking bad yunjin..”

She smelled your breath and realised that you were a bit tipsy, “But boss your a bit tipsy..." She mumbled under her breath as she looked up at you.

You smirked, a hint of mischievousness in your eyes. You leaned in, your lips barely touching her ear as you whispered, your voice sultry and seductive.

"So what if I am..." You nipped at her earlobe gently, your hands roaming down Yunjin’s chest, and to her hips, pulling yunjin closer to you.

You could feel her body tense against yours, your breath hitching as your touch sent shivers down her spine. You could tell she were hesitant, her loyalty to her job keeping Yunjin from fully giving in to her desire. However, I wasn't about to give up on you so easily.

"Relax…. I want this. I want you" You purred, your lips tracing a path down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses.

Yunjin looked away, her face turning a bit red.. she knew it was wrong I mean you’re her boss. But it felt right so she didn’t resist and finally gave up and let her desires free, just for tonight.

She took your chin and kissed you. She licked the bottom of your lip, silently asking for entrance. As you opened your mouth she quickly went and attacked your mouth, exploring the inside your mouth.

Your hands found its way to yunjin’s neck, Hers to your waist, gently squeezing your waist with her hands..

Yunjin pulled away looking at the string of saliva connecting you two by the mouth, she smirks at you.. biting her bottom lip. “You look so good on top you know..”

You lightly chuckled, “Do I now..?”

She nodded, “Definitely.. it’s like a turn on..” she chuckled. She had a boner and it was pretty obvious due to you feeling it against your thigh.

“You’re are really turned on..” You shift in her lap, “I can feel something or someone getting a little excited down there..”

You feel a tug on the rim of ur shirt.. you look down to see yunjin’s hands fiddling with it, “Can I take this off you..?” You look back up and nodded at yunjin.

She pulls your shirt up and over your head off your body throwing your shirt somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your white lace bra and grey skirt that had rode up due to your sitting on her lap.

You blush even more as you saw Yunjin’s eyes lingering around your chest area. “Woah..” She mumbled and gulped.

“You’re staring..” You mumbled being a bit shy. “Sorry.. it’s just— they look so perfect in your bra..”

You looked straight at Yunjin after she said that.. “Y-you think so..?” She noded.

She then leaned into your ear, “I know so princess,” she whispered before attacking your neck leaving love bites and hickeys on your neck.

You whimpered, it felt so good.

She moved her head down and down, till she reached your chest. “May I princess..?” She tugged on the back of your bra and looked up at you.

“Y-yea..” You mumbled as she unclipped your bra from behind. Your boobs where sensitive to her touch and she runs her thumb repeatedly over the nub on your left boob as she sucked on your right.

Enjoying all the whimpers and moans that you let slip through your mouth.. just for her and only her.

She then gently laid you down as she kissed down to your lower abdomen, all the way to your skirt.. her hand tugged on it. “Hmm may I..?” She asked as she went back up to her where you guys were face to face.

You nodded, “Please do..”

She nodded the pecked your lips and when down onto her knees as she pulled your grey skirt down, tossing it to who knows were in your bedroom.

But you didn’t care you just wanted her to fuck you.

As Yunjin was on her knees she thought it was more sexy to fuck, you with your underwear on. But she was gonna hold it to the side as she fucked you, it would be even better if she fucked you raw.

You mean, you wouldn’t mind it, You were not to mention on birth control pills.

You watched as Yunjin stood up and took off her unbuttoning her shirt and taking it off with her tire revealing the Calvin Klein sports bra she had on underneath her shirt. She tossed her shirt somewhere else in your room before un buckling her belt and unbuttoning her trousers.

She was wearing a Calvin Klein boxers, well that’s what was on the waistband. She let her trousers puddle at her feet but before she pulled down her boxers she looked down at you.

“Um.. you think you can take 9.5inches..?” She asked you looking down at your quite shocked face.

You slowly nodded, “Y-yea.. just be gentle..”

Yunjin took your hand, “I promise i’ll be gentle with you.. princess..” You smiled as you cupped her cheeks and kissed her for a few moments.

She pulled away and then got back on her knees as she rubbed the dark spot on her lace white underwear, “Hmm all wet for mommy I see, huh?” She looked up at you from her angle to see you whimpering and pleading for touch to touch her.

She pulls away your underwear to the side, “Aww thats a pretty pink colour princess..” She mumbles and licks the bud.

Yunjin said as she slurped up all your juices, you felt like you was on cloud nine at this point.

She continued to eat you out before inserting a finger into your hole.. “Just preparing you princess..” she smiled at you as she started to move her fingers in and out of you slowly as she felt how tight you were.

Your hips started rocking against Yunjin’s hand, “Hmm someone’s needy huh..” You whimpered in response, “I think thats enough preparation done..” she took out her fingers and sucked your slick off of them.

You looked away, not before long Yunjin stood up and took off her boxers. It revealed what was hiding behind that huge bulge that she had in her boxers.

Her 9.5 inch thick and girthy cock sprang out from her boxers, she let her boxers pool with her trousers. She looked at you, “it looks big, but Im sure you cam take it princess..”

You rest on your elbows to look down, and it looked big. It was veiny, hard and the tip of it was a pinkish colour with pre cum coming out the tip. You gulp, “I-it does look big..”

She nods and gently teases your hole, “Hmm how bad do you want mommy’s cock, princess..?” She asked as she gathered all your slick for lube.

“A-ah please stop t-teasing me yunnie..” you pled as you saw Yunjin nod and gently pushes into you, stretching your hole to her size.

“A-ah.. oh gosh..!” You whimpered, the feeling of her stretching your hole felt so good but hurt so bad.

“Shit, fuckkk thats tight ah hmpf thats tight”, yunjin mumbled as she continued to push into you, You holds onto her biceps, squeezing haed.

Yunjin noticed it, “Need a minute..?” She looked at you seeing the slight discomfort in your body language and a bit of pain in your face expression.

You nodded, “Hmpf yeah..”, You muttered and looked back up at her. Yunjim kissed your cheek and drew shapes on your stomach giving you time to adjust to her size.

After 5-10 minutes Later

After adjusting to her size you bod your head, “I’m r-ready yunnie.” You mumbled, loud enough for her to hear you.

“I’ll be slow princess..” Yunjin said and started to slowly move in and out of you.

She moved a bit faster after a while as she held your white lace underwear to the side. All the while she was doing that you were a moaning mess, it felt so good it had you rolling your eyes back to the back of your head.

She smirked as she saw your face, she moved even faster, the sound of your cheeks clapping became more and more louder as well as your moans.

“Ah oh gosshhhhhh!!” you held onto her shoulders.

She continued and leaned down kissing your neck, “So good for mommy..” You moaned.

“Hmpf mommy you feel so good..”

Yunjin looked down at the part of where you guys were connected, seeing the amount of release and cum there she found it such a turn on, “So much release... damn princess this looks... so... pretty...” Yunjin said as moved slowly..

I gasped as you moved slowly, the mixture of pleasure and praise sending a shiver down my spine. I looked up at you, my breathing ragged and uneven. My cheeks flushed, my body arching against yours as you moved.

"Y-You like that..." You whispered, your voice filled with desire.

Yunjin had one hand on your hips and the other holding your white undies to the side, "mhm yeah..."

You could feel Yunjin’s touch on your hip, her hand holding your underwear to continues to slide her dick in and out of you.

Your breath hitched as Yunjin touched me, the feeling of her hand on my skin sending waves of pleasure through me. You looked up at her, your eyes filled with desire "That feels so good..." You murmured, Your voice laced with pleasure.

"Gosh you feel good ah fucking baby... I love you..." Yunjin mumbled as she continued to fuck your brains out.

You could feel your heart skip a beat as she spoke, the words "I love you" sending a surge of warmth through your body. You looked up at her, your eyes filled with affection and desire.

"I...l love you too... So much..." You whispered, your voice soft and filled with emotion.

Yunjin chuckles... then rubs your cheek... "You’re so cute..."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Yunjin rubbed your cheek. Her gentle touch and affectionate words made me feel loved and appreciated during this imtamate situation.

"And you're so ah hmm sweet m-mommy..." You murmured, my eyes gazing up at you with a mix of affection and desire. You reached up, cupping Yunjin’s face with my hand, your thumb gently stroking her cheek.

Yunjin pulls out of you and teases you...

You gasped as yunjin pulled out, the absence of your touch making me crave you even more. A whimper escaped from your lips as Yunjin teased me, the mix of pleasure and anticipation building within yourself. You looked up at yujin, your body arching towards yunjin’s.

"Please... I need you..." you pleaded, your voice was filled with longing and desire.

"How bad you need mommy's dick inside your tight cunt...?" Yunjin asked.

You swallowed, yunjin’s body trembling with desire at the sound of Her words. You looked up at her with a mixture of needy and submissive, my voice trembling with need.

"So bad... I need you so bad, mommy... Please... I need your touch...i’ll be a good girl for mommy please..” you begged her.

Yunjin pushes back inside you... "Look at that... you’re mommy’s little cum slut aren’t ya..?” She pounds into your cunt.

You let out a gasp as Yunjin pushed back into you the feeling of her dick filling you up to the brim.

"Who knew that you'd look so pretty like this...?"

You felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of embarrassment and pleasure washing over me. You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability.

"Ah Y-You really think so mommy..? Hmpfff fuck...?" You asked, my voice soft and shy.

Yunjin mods

"Wanna release for mommy...? I know you’ve been dying to cum all over mommy’s thick, lengthy dick.” She felt you clenching meaning that you were close to release.

A wave of excitement washed over You at Yunjin’s words. You met her gaze, her eyes filled with need and desire.

“Ah yeah oh gosh yes... please, m-mommy. I want to release for you.. all over your thick fucking cock..” You murmured, your voice low in desperation but high in desire

“Go on cum on mommy’s thick dick princess..” as soon as Yunjin said that you let out a soft moan as you reached your peak. Your body trembled as you cummed all over yunjin’s dick leaving yunjin’s lower half all covered in your slick.

"Hmm I got you princess, mommy’s got you..” You were panting, trying to catch your breath. You looked up at Her, your eyes a mix of satisfaction and tenderness.

"T-Thank you... That was amazing... mommy..” you murmured, your voice shaky..

Yunjin nods and smiled, you smiled up at her, feeling a sense of contentment and affection. Yunjin reached out, her hand gently stroking her cheek.

"You're so good to me..." you said, your voice soft and filled with gratitude.

After a few minutes of catching your breath, Yunjin pulled out of you and helped you up into the bathroom. Where you both took a shower to wash the smell of sex off you both.

After the shower, you let yunjin wear some on your baggy clothes which fitted her, but she complained of going to bed hot if she wore that top so she chose a baggy thin t-shirt.

While you wore cute plaided pyjamas that was super comfortable, you sat on the bed as you watched Yunjin pick up the both if you guys clothes.

You wanted to help her but, you couldn’t walk properly due to you guys recent activity. So you waited till she put the clothes in the hamper then turn off the lamp as you laid down under the sheets, waiting for yunjin to join you.

When yunjin climbed into the bed, you mumbled something she didn’t hear. “Hmm what did you say princess..?”

You repeated it again, “Can i be small spoon.. i want to be held by you..”, loudly for only her to hear.

Yunjin nodded and huggef you from behind making you lay there in yunjin’s arms, the aftermath of our encounter leaving me feeling content and satisfied, a question came to mind.

You both clean up and lay in bed, yunjin was gonna stay the night cuddling. Yunjin was big spoon as you were small spoon.

“Goodnight yunnie,” you said as you felt yunjin snuggle into you.

“Night princess..” Yunjin whispered back as she dozed off back to sleep.

[bbydoll18xx]

Pet Names And Airplanes (Part 2)

The aftermath of the airplane ride leaves Paige moaning once more.

Paige Bueckers x reader

Part 2 based on this request: I have a request but it's not fully thought out but all the traveling she's been doing has got me thinking. Basically Paige x friend where there's some tension emotionally and physically but neither of them know it rlly. Paige is groggy bc they had to catch an early flight to go somewhere and while sitting next to each other on the plane, her mind starts wandering and she accidentally says smthg dirty out loud to the reader which obviously leads to a build of tension on their flight that they end up having to deal with. How they deal w it and such can be up to you.

Read Part 1 here :)

Themes: bottom!Paige, SMUT, but also some fluffiness

Word Count: 2.7k

To whoever requested bottom Paige, I hope this is acceptable lol

-------------------------------------------------------

How the hell did you get here?

Your heart is beating furiously, and your head feels fuzzy. You are pulled away from the grounding grips of reality as Paige continues to lick into your mouth with a delicious fervor. It was all-consuming, and you think that you would surrender everything in order to keep Paige’s mouth on yours.

Her lips ghost across yours once more before trailing down to attach to the delicate flesh of your throat. Quiet whines are spilling from your lips, as she alternates between hot, open mouth kisses and sucking, soothing the marks with her tongue. You anticipate the trail of tattoo kisses that would soon adorn your neck, leaving you with undeniable proof of Paige’s affections.

Her hands are wandering now, and your eyes flutter shut at the pure absurdity of the situation. Paige is kissing you. And neither of you were dreaming this time.

Paige’s hands fist at the oversized shirt you had been sleeping in, and her lips find yours once more. As her warm hands find their way onto the soft skin of your abdomen, your phone rings, cutting through the room harshly. Your eyes fly open, meeting Paige’s, and she hesitantly pulls away from you, allowing you to grab your phone that was resting on the nightstand. 

“Fuck, it’s Nika,” you whisper, trying to fix your hair and lopsided shirt. Paige does the same, and she fixes the wrinkled bed sheets quickly.

Sliding the screen to open the FaceTime, you wave to a smiling Nika. 

“Hi guys!” Nika practically yells over the phone. “I can’t wait to see you tonight! How was the flight here?”

Looking at Paige, who turns a delicate shade of pink at the mention of the airplane ride, she mumbles, “The plane was aight. Mostly just slept. Can’t wait to see you, too.”

You nod your head in agreement, avoiding meeting Paige’s gaze on the screen of your phone. The three of you chat a few more minutes, cementing your plans for later in the evening once Nika was out of practice. She soon hung up, leaving you and Paige to stare at each other once more. 

You desperately try to avoid glancing down at her lips, but it was nearly impossible. Her tongue darts out to run across her bottom lip, slightly swollen from the kiss. The action unwittingly causes you to catch your own bottom lip between your teeth, biting down in an attempt to subdue your skepticism. 

“We should definitely do that again,” Paige declares, and your heart nearly stops at her words. You were expecting things to be awkward, worried that your friendship would dissolve into a weird dynamic. 

You laugh, and a pink blush blooms across your cheeks at the boldness of your best friend. A wave of relief washes over your senses, and your rapid pulse slows at the realization that things would be okay between you two. Maybe even better than okay.

“I agree,” you whisper, trying to hide the huge grin that was threatening to give away your casual act. “But let's go sightseeing first.”

Paige, who typically was eager to go out exploring, sighed dramatically before acquiescing as you flashed puppy dog eyes and a not-so subtle pout in her direction. 

She was so whipped.

The two of you spend the afternoon in downtown Seattle. The weather was surprisingly sunny, and as you strolled down the street with an ice cream cone, the sheer domesticity of the day hits you like a fucking truck.

Paige has her free hand in yours, the other holding her own ice cream. You glance up at her, and try to hold back a giggle as her tongue chases a stray drop that is sliding down the cone onto her wrist. It was getting harder to ignore the feelings you had for her, and it threatened to overtake you until you were a withering mess of nothingness. 

You are pulled out of your head, as Paige squeezes your hand. As you look up at her once more, the fond smile adorning her beautiful face makes you realize that you were not necessarily alone in your affections. And it was so comforting. 

~

You and Paige walk through the door of your hotel room, and as it shuts, apprehension fills you up once again. You were alone with Paige. And the idea of kissing her again was fucking with your mind.

You kick off your shoes and sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at Paige to see where her head was at. You’re greeted with bright blue eyes and that ridiculous tongue of hers peeking out of her mouth seductively. It was positively sinful, and it gave you the courage to grab her hand and pull her between your parted legs. She leans down to kiss you slowly. While her earlier kisses had been full of want and lust, this one was pure passion. It was a promise, and as you kiss her back, you let all the unspoken words fall from your mouth into hers. 

Your hands roam to find her waist, and your touch causes Paige to speed up the kiss. Longingness fuels her, and soon enough, your lips are meeting hers with an unbridled urgency that you had never experienced before. Falling backwards onto the bed, Paige’s lips pull away from yours to attach to your neck once more, and through the haziness of your thoughts, you think that maybe she has a certain fascination with it. She trails messy kisses down your throat and adds a few small marks below your ear to the ever growing collection. The thought of them fading away causes a pang in your chest, but somehow you just know that Paige will no longer let you go without the purple marks embellishing your skin. 

Paige pulls away from your neck, making you pout at the loss of contact, and she meets your eyes with a smug smirk. She just knows the effect she has over you. Your panties are fucking soaked, and your pupils are blown wide with lust.

You don’t forget, though, how she was moaning out for you in her sleep this morning. And the thought of this pulls out an equally smug look from you. It was your turn to be in control, and you were going to turn Paige into a whimpering mess. 

You sit up in the bed, and Paige moves with you, a surprised look flitting across her face. Now you both are sitting straight up, legs still entangled and eyes connected in a wordless conversation. 

You make the first move.

Your hand reaches out to cup Paige’s cheek, reconnecting your lips in another bruising kiss. She lets out a groan at the contact, relishing in you taking control. You wish you could spend the rest of your life hearing her little noises on repeat. 

Pushing Paige back once more against the soft pillows of the hotel bed, you position yourself on top of her. Your right knee comes to rest in between her parted legs, and as you press it against the sopping heat of her core, she moans out your name. 

“Fuck, P, you like that?” You purr, secretly exhilarated at her pure, unadulterated neediness. She nods at your question, eyes shut in pleasure as you find a spot right under her ear to suck and bite at. She wasn’t going to get away with silence, and you reach up to loosely wrap a hand around her throat. “Use your words, baby,” you murmur, pressing several small kisses up and down her neck as she gives in.

“Need you, princess,” Paige whines. The words are so unfamiliar to the confident Paige you knew and loved, but the stark want in her voice had you nearly drooling with lust. 

You were going to make her feel so, so good. And that was a promise.

“You’ve got me, Paigey,” you whisper, and your hands find the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head. She allows you to pull off her pants, lifting her butt up to let you slide them over her hips. As she lays back against the pillows, clad in only a sports bra and boxers, you let your gaze wander over her athletic body. The heat of your stare causes Paige to writhe impatiently, desperate to feel some pleasure. 

“My pretty girl,” you breathe, sliding a hand down the side of Paige’s ribcage, admiring the pale flesh of her toned stomach. You lean down and press open mouth kisses up and down her abdomen before taking off her bra. You admire her again and attach your mouth to a nipple, eliciting another whine from Paige. The sound inflates your ego, and you bring a hand up to pinch the other one. 

“More,” she chokes out brokenly, and you were not going to deny the blonde. You were going to give her everything until she was begging you to stop. 

Satisfied with the marks you leave scattered across her chest, you move down to the waistband of her boxers. Your breath fans over Paige’s belly button, and hers hitches in the anticipation. Looking up at her, trying to gauge her reaction, you see her eyes screwed shut in concentration. 

“Open those pretty eyes for me, baby,” you request gently, and your heart lurches once she complies. Her clear, blue eyes flutter open, revealing her neediness in blown pupils and a darkness that you’ve never seen before. 

She had never looked so beautiful. 

You pull down Paige’s boxers, throwing them onto the floor. The cool air of the room hits her sopping center, and Paige lets out a gasp. You wanted to immediately dive in, but you knew it would be more fun to tease. Pressing hot, open mouth kisses all over her hips and down to her inner thighs, you revel in the moans pouring from Paige’s mouth. 

She is now just short of begging. 

“Please, princess. Need more. Touch me.”  

Getting drunk off of her desperation, you swallow your own instincts to just give in to her and fuck her senselessly. But you weren't going to give in that easily.

“Gotta tell me where you wanna be touched, pretty girl. Just gotta tell me, and I’ll take such good care of you.” Your words are husky, now, darkening your typical giggly disposition, and Paige secretly savors the dominance pouring out of you.

Another kiss to her inner thigh pulls another whine out of Paige, and she’s bucking her hips up in an attempt to feel a shred of pressure against her pulsating clit. 

“Please, baby…please. N-need you to touch my…pussy.” 

Fucking finally. 

For a moment you thought Paige’s stubbornness would prevail, but it seems that her overwhelming neediness was hijacking her typical need for control.

You take a second to savor it. Paige Bueckers was spread out in front of you at your every whim, and you were going to enjoy this. 

Two fingers ghost across her inner thigh and come to rest at her dripping hole. You gather her wetness, swirling it around her folds and up to her clit. 

A long groan falls out of Paige’s mouth as you finally touch her, followed by several expletives when you replace your fingers for your hot, wet tongue. You had been dying to taste her all day, and your patience was rewarded as you licked a fat stripe from the weeping hole of her pussy up to flick across her clit with a maddening pace. 

With no intent on stopping, or even slowing down, you push in two fingers, and the sudden entry causes Paige’s moans to grow even louder. Torn between wanting the whole world to hear just how good you were making her feel and wanting to keep her all to yourself, you whisper “Gotta be a little quieter for me, baby. Can you be a good girl?”

The last thing you needed was unnecessary attention distracting you from making Paige cum like she never has before.

A quieter whimper leaves Paige’s throat, satisfying you, and you reward her with a third finger, curling them all up to the spongy flesh that holds all the pleasure. 

Paige is humping against your hand now, moaning out, “Feels so good, princess, oh my…god.” Her noises are nothing short of pornographic, and you feel your own wetness slide down your inner thighs.

“Tell me who’s making you feel this good, Paigey,” you grit out, intoxicated from her essence and needing the extra validation to push you over the edge.

Paige moans out your name, and your head soars. You had spent many nights dreaming of scenarios just like this, but nothing compared to having her wrapped around your finger, as she was now. 

Quite literally. 

Continuing your brutal assault on her g-spot and eating her out as if she was the last meal left on earth, you feel Paige’s pussy start to clench around you. 

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You urge, and she lets out a strangled whine. “Let go, cum for me, P.”

And she does. The sound was heavenly as your name leaves her lips over and over again, like it was a prayer. She throws an arm across her face, as if the release was just too much, and you revel in your abilities. No one else made Paige feel like this but you. 

Giving the blonde a few moments to ride out her high, you slow down, letting the orgasm wash over her. Paige’s chest rises and falls, giving way to labored breaths, and once her legs stop twitching from the sheer pleasure of it all, you crawl up to meet her in a slow kiss. 

It’s different than earlier. The passion is still there, but there is no longer something to prove, and the two of you bask in the glow of a friendship that had developed into something more.

“That was fuckin’ incredible,” Paige murmurs, voice raspy now, and you grin at her praises. 

“What can I say? I’m pretty great,” you gloat, feeling like you had an orgasm yourself.

~

Nika is due to arrive at your hotel any second now, and you finish the final touch ups of your makeup. Paige is behind you, staring at you through the mirror with a fond look on her face that has your stomach erupting in butterflies. 

Paige spins you around and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering, “Look at my pretty princess. I can’t wait to fuck you tonight.” A blush engulfs your face at the thought, and it takes an impressive amount of restraint to avoid pushing her up against the wall and attaching your lips to hers.

A loud knock sounds through the hotel room, pulling the two of you away from your affections. Nika’s smiling face appears as you open the door, and she pulls you into a huge hug. 

“Oh my god. I missed you so much,” she mumbles into your neck. You giggle, repeating her words, as the two of you rock back and forth in a friendly embrace. 

Nika pulls away and steps behind you, jumping onto Paige, yelling in Paige’s ear about how she had ‘missed her twin.’ Paige lets out an affectionate chuckle, telling Nika that she had missed her, too. 

Once the hugging was over, Nika stands in front of you and Paige with a smirk on her face. “So what have you two been up to today?” she asks, a playful glint in her eyes. 

You feel her gaze roam over the hickey peeking out under the collar of your shirt, and your cheeks heat up. 

Paige runs a hand across her face, trying to avoid looking guilty, and Nika gives her a knowing look. 

“About damn time, honestly you two.” 

And there was no point in even trying to deny it anymore. 

~

Part 3

this was a lil too much fun to write. hope you beautiful people enjoyed it

[littlelamy]

eight letters, three words: soft!rafe x reader

a/n: a little longer than usual but i hope you guys enjoy it 😘

the grand ballroom was a dazzling array of lights. amidst the swirling colors and the symphony of laughter and music, you felt a surreal sense of detachment. the event, though magnificent, felt secondary to the storm brewing within you.

rare moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, his gaze occasionally catching yours, causing a jolt of anticipation every time. the way his eyes lingered on you, filled with a mix of intensity and something more vulnerable, made your heart race with a tumult of fear and longing. you had sensed for a while that he was holding something back, a truth that lay just beneath the surface of his charmingly dangerous facade.

as the evening progressed, rafe’s gaze never strayed far from you. It was as though an invisible thread connected you both, a thread that tugged and twisted with every glance and every subtle gesture. when he finally approached you, it was as if the world around you had melted away, leaving just the two of you in a private, intense bubble.

“can we talk?” rafe’s voice was low and commanding, with a hint of something raw and unspoken.

you nodded, unable to mask the nervous flutter in your chest. He led you to a quieter corner of the ballroom, where the elegant cacophony of the party was muted, and the dim lighting cast a soft, intimate glow around you.

the silence between you was charged, filled with an unspoken tension that made the air feel heavy. rafe’s usual confidence was tempered by a seriousness that made you feel both anxious and intrigued. he leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression a mask of controlled intensity.

“rafe,” you began, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “what’s this about?”

rafe’s eyes met yours with a piercing gaze. “you know,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, “sometimes words can be the most powerful weapon or the greatest comfort. it depends on how they’re used.”

you swallowed hard, trying to decipher the meaning behind his cryptic words. the grand ballroom’s grandeur seemed a distant memory as the intensity of the moment took over. “what are you trying to say?”

he took a step closer, closing the distance between you. the space between you felt charged, a palpable connection that made your breath hitch. “eight letters,” afe said, his voice barely audible. “three words.”

your pulse quickened, your breath catching in your throat. the phrase seemed to hang in the air, laden with significance. “what do you mean?” you asked, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anticipation.

rafe’s gaze softened slightly, but the underlying intensity remained. “it’s what i need to say. what i’ve been holding back for too long. and i think you already know what it means.”

you could feel the weight of his words, the gravity of the moment pressing down on you. the vulnerability in his eyes was a rare glimpse into the depths of his emotions. “just say it,” you urged, your voice a whisper.

rafe’s expression shifted, a mix of resolve and uncertainty playing across his features. “i want you to understand,” he began, his voice low and earnest, “that despite the way i push you, test you, and sometimes hurt you, it’s because i care. It’s because i’m afraid of letting you in fully.”

his words struck a chord, resonating deep within you. the pain he caused was tempered by moments of tenderness, and his emotional walls had always seemed impenetrable. “i’ve been trying to protect myself,” rafe continued, his voice trembling slightly. “afraid of being vulnerable, afraid of getting hurt. but i realize now that it’s not worth it.”

you took a step closer, closing the emotional gap between you. your hand reached out to touch his arm, the gesture both comforting and intimate. “rafe,” you said softly, “i love you. even when you’re at your worst, i love you.”

his eyes widened slightly, a mixture of surprise and relief evident in his gaze. “you mean it?”

you nodded, your heart full of love and understanding. “yes, i do. i see through the tough exterior and the games you play. i know there’s more to you than that. and despite everything, i’m here because I care too.”

rafe’s expression softened, the hardness in his eyes melting away as he took in your words. “i’ve been pushing you away, testing you. but i need you to know that I’m trying to be better. for you.”

the sincerity in his voice was palpable, and you felt a tear escape down your cheek. rafe reached out, his hand gently wiping away the tear. “i’m sorry,” he said, his voice filled with a raw emotion you hadn’t heard from him before. “i’m sorry for being difficult, for making you doubt how I feel.”

you smiled through your tears, feeling a profound sense of relief and connection. “i know you’re trying. and that’s what matters to me.”

he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both passionate and tender. it was a kiss filled with promises and apologies, a blending of fierce love and vulnerability. you responded with equal fervor, your emotions pouring into the kiss as you held him close.

when you finally pulled back, rafe’s gaze was filled with a newfound tenderness. “thank you for being patient with me,” he said softly.

you nodded, your heart swelling with affection. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

as the night continued around you, the grand ballroom and its grandeur seemed to fade into the background. the world outside was irrelevant compared to the bond you shared with rafe. hand in hand, you stood together, ready to face the complexities of your relationship with a renewed sense of commitment and understanding.

with the weight of the evening’s revelations still lingering in the air, you both knew that the journey ahead would be filled with challenges. but with love as your guiding light, you felt prepared to navigate whatever came next. the promise of tomorrow, despite its uncertainties, seemed bright and hopeful, as long as you faced it together.

[cutejennydawson]

Beyond the Basic Massage: Exploring Special Treatments at Massage Envy

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Hot Stone Envy

This treatment uses smooth, heated stones to apply pressure to key points on the body, helping to ease muscle tension and promote relaxation. It can be especially beneficial for those who suffer from chronic pain or muscle tightness.

2. Aromatherapy

Aromatherapy involves the use of essential oils to promote relaxation and healing. Massage Envy offers a variety of essential oils that can be added to a massage to enhance the experience and provide additional benefits.

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This treatment uses a handheld device that delivers vibration therapy to help ease muscle tension and reduce pain. It can be especially helpful for those who suffer from chronic pain or tension headaches.

4. Total Body Stretch

This treatment is designed to improve flexibility, mobility, and posture. A massage therapist will work with the client to gently stretch and lengthen the muscles throughout the body.

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If you're looking for special treatment at Massage Envy, be sure to discuss your goals and needs with your massage therapist. They can help you select the treatment that's best for you and customize the experience to meet your individual needs. With the right treatment, you can experience the many benefits of massage and improve your overall well-being.

[embbarnes]

Fugitives.

summary: While you and Bucky flee from captivity in Berlin, Bucky shows his thanks to you for always being by his side.

warnings: SMUT | 18+ Minors DNI | CW!Bucky | Some violence | Bucky is triggered | Non-serious injuries | Light dirty talk | Cunnilingus | Slight nipple play | Swearing

a/n: Um...I did not mean for this to get so long, it just kept coming out. I had a dream about this scenario so I had to write it. Unedited, so ignore any mistakes please. wc: 6.0k

You felt panic surging through your body as you paced back and forth in the empty room they threw you in.

Things were nice. Things were...manageable.

Until Steve showed up and brought a barrage of government men with him, vowing to capture Bucky and you. Steve didn't seem to have ill intentions, but...you nor Bucky could afford to trust anyone. Especially since shortly after Steve broke into your apartment, there were dozens of men trying to take you out. You hadn't prepared for the chase that followed, the sheer panic in his eyes as you both made a break for it and ran off. You leaped from your apartment down to a lower building, suddenly a man in a black suit was now attacking Bucky with the intent to kill.

Everything happened so fast.

You were running, avoiding cars and guns, then you surrendered.

Now you were stuck in this tiny room, left to the unknown.

As you paced restlessly back and forth, the tumultuous thoughts swirling in your mind were abruptly interrupted by an unexpected plunge into darkness, the sound of electricity dying as the low frequency slowly quieted with the loss of power. The sudden absence of light startled you, leaving you momentarily disoriented. Before you gathered your bearings, a cacophony of alarms began to blare, their urgent wails piercing through the silence and hurting your head. Pulsating red lights started to flash intermittently, casting an eerie, crimson glow throughout the space of your confinement.

The combination of blaring alarms and flashing lights created a sense of urgency and you could hear the rapid footsteps of running agents outside the prison you were kept in, chaotic shouting and commands came from them as they continued towards something. The building had a complete shutdown of its electrical systems. The electronic lock securing your door, now devoid of power, had been rendered ineffective. The door that had kept you trapped was now...unlocked.

Immediately, you seized the opportunity to escape and locate Bucky. The door flew open with a resounding crash and you swiftly navigated the narrow hallway, stealthily trailing behind the surge of agents converging on a central location. Your presence didn't go completely unnoticed; a few agents spotted you on your way there. You swiftly incapacitated them with well-placed strikes, your past training came in handy, and with a few sneaky moves Bucky taught you when you were still living as peacefully as you could in Romania.

As you rounded the corner, you found yourself in a more spacious chamber. There, amidst the chaos, stood Bucky - tall and imposing. His movements were fluid and precise as he dodged the batons wielded by the attacking agents. He expertly dispatched his assailants, sending them sprawling across the floor. They weren't a match for him. You wasted no time in making your approach. "Bucky!" Your voice rang out, cutting through the din of the fight as you sprinted towards him, your heart pounding with a mixture of relief that he was okay.

He pivoted in your direction, his glacial blue eyes piercing through you with an unsettling emptiness that seemed to chill the very air around him. His countenance, a mask of stoic indifference, coupled with his rigid posture, caused you to halt abruptly several paces away. The atmosphere grew thick with tension as you observed him, searching for any hint of recognition in those familiar yet distant features.

"Bucky...?" The name escaped your lips in a hushed, tentative whisper, barely audible even in the deafening silence that enveloped you both. As the seconds ticked by without response, you found yourself repeating his name, this time with a noticeable tremor in your voice, uncertainty and a touch of fear coloring your tone. The man before you seemed both intimately familiar and alarmingly foreign, leaving you caught between the urge to approach and the instinct to retreat.

No response.

"...Soldat?"

There, his form straightened slightly, a flicker of recognition passing across his features. His eyes, once vacant, now held a glimmer of awareness. "я готов отвечать," he intoned, the Russian phrase rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. His voice, though devoid of any discernible emotion, carried a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you. He spoke in a low, measured tone, each word carefully enunciated as if reciting a long-memorized script. As he regarded you, his gaze remained steady and unwavering, his passive figure into an attentive, albeit still detached, presence.

Shit. They activated him. How?

Someone here knows more. This just became way more complicated, and dangerous.

"Soldat, we have to go, now," you spoke quickly to him, your gaze fixed upon the soldier's eyes. Despite their vacant expression, a flicker of comprehension seemed to pass through them. His programming, deeply ingrained and unyielding, compelled him to heed commands and execute them without question. You knew he would comply, for that was the very essence of his conditioning. You felt bad for this, making the soldier do the work for Bucky but right now you had no time to bother deactivating the soldier. Right now, he was needed for the sole purpose that he would get you both out of here.

With swift, decisive movements, the soldier's hand clamped around your arm, his grip firm yet not painful. He began to move, his powerful frame easily clearing a path through the agents that stood in your way. As you ascended flight after flight of stairs, you found yourself struggling to match his relentless pace, your feet tripping as he drug you along like a helpless doll at his side. The soldier's unwavering hold on your wrist proved to be your saving grace, effortlessly hauling you upright whenever your footing faltered. Your destination became clear as you continued your ascent, knowing a helicopter sat waiting.

Upon reaching the roof, he swiftly detached the tether from the helicopter and flung open the door with a sense of urgency. He tugged you around and forcefully pushed you inside the aircraft, your body stumbling against the cold metal interior. Seconds later, he adeptly climbed in after you, the confined space of the helicopter suddenly felt even smaller with him next to you, not to mention you’ve never actually been inside one.

"You can fly this thing, right?" you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety. Your eyes darted around the cockpit, frantically searching for any sign of a seatbelt or safety harness to secure yourself. The lack of familiar safety measures only made your growing sense of unease worse.

"Да," Bucky replied tersely, his voice carrying a harsh edge that left no room for further questions. It was clear that the soldier was still firmly in control, his demeanor radiating a cold efficiency. With practiced ease, his hands moved across the control panel, flipping a series of switches in rapid succession. The long rotor blades of the helicopter began to spin, their increasing speed creating a deafening whir that filled the air around you.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as the helicopter's rotors whirred to life. The chopper lifted off, you felt a mixture of relief and anxiety wash over you at the thought of finally getting away from captivity with him. Your eyes were drawn to the window, where Steve, determined and desperate, made a last-ditch attempt to stop your escape.

The soldier ran at you both, he tried to grab on, anything to keep Bucky here and prevent him from fleeing. His fingers grazed the helicopter's landing skid, missing it by mere inches. You watched, a lump forming in your throat as his face contorted with a mix of frustration and concern. He was shouting something, but you had no idea what he was saying. The image of Steve standing there, looking increasingly small as Bucky skillfully piloted the helicopter away from the base, was the last thing you saw as the base shrunk out of view of the trees.

Bucky piloted the helicopter and carefully monitoring the fuel gauge as it gradually depleted, the carrier wasn’t full when you took off, so you knew it would run out quick. As the last drops of fuel were consumed, he maneuvered the aircraft to a safe landing spot in the heart of the dense, verdant forest, finding just the right spot to sneak a landing to. The thick canopy of trees surrounded you on all sides, creating a sense of isolation and wilderness and covering you from open view if any of the agents had begun to follow.

You took a moment to survey your surroundings, drinking in the lush greenery and the earthy scent of the forest. The rhythmic whirring of the helicopter blades slowly came to a halt, the sudden silence amplifying the natural sounds of the woodland. Once the blades had completely stopped their rotation, Bucky reached over and unlatched the door with a metallic click.

You turned to him to speak, and without warning, he grasped your arm and began to pull you from the confines of the helicopter. "Wait, Bucky," you stuttered, caught off guard by his sudden action. Your protest went unheeded as you found yourself tumbling out of the aircraft, your legs tangling beneath you in a decidedly ungraceful manner.

Fortunately, Bucky's firm grip on your arm remained steady throughout your clumsy exit. His quick reflexes and strong hold prevented you from an embarrassing and potentially painful encounter with the forest floor. Instead of face-planting into the damp, spongy moss that carpeted the ground, you found yourself teetering on the edge of balance, saved only by Bucky's steadying presence. He looked down with a mostly blank, unamused expression.

Still the soldier.

"We need to move. They will follow." He grunted to you, his voice low and strained. His hand found your arm again, tugging you along forcefully after he spoke. The sudden movement caught you off guard, causing you to stumble. However, this time you managed to regain your balance quickly, adjusting your pace to match his long, determined strides from him doing this earlier.

"You don't have to pull so hard, I'm right behind you," you stammered with mild discomfort. You gently worked your arm from his tight grasp, your fingers lightly massaging the skin where his grip had been. Despite the firmness of his hold, you didn't sense any malice or anger from him. He didn't actively mean to hurt you, he never did.

You had lost track of time during your trek through the forest, your feel would occasionally get caught in a sunken hole in the moss and make you stagger a bit. The minutes blended together as you strolled side by side, Bucky somehow never faltering. The once vibrant sky, painted with hues of orange and pink, had gradually faded into darkness. Heavy clouds, like a thick blanket, now obscured the stars and slowly rising moon, you had no light to guide your way through the thicket. The air grew heavy with moisture, and soon, a light drizzle began to fall over you both.

As the gentle shower persisted, you found yourself shivering involuntarily, your body reacting to the sudden drop in temperature. the cold rain didn’t help, and your lack of a coat made your skin bubble with goosebumps. Bucky glanced down at you, taking notice of your discomfort almost immediately. He didn’t say anything, but he shed his red henley and draped the shirt over your shoulders, carefully guiding your arms through the sleeves. The garment engulfed you, its size emphasizing the difference in your builds. The fabric, still warm from his body heat, provided an immediate sense of comfort against the chill.

You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, your body still trembling from the cold despite the additional warmth provided by his shirt. The henley offered a much-needed shield against the relentless, chilly rain that continued to fall. Its fabric felt comforting between your skin and the rain, despite knowing it would probably get wetter within a few minutes. "Thank you..." You murmured softly, your voice barely audible above the patter of raindrops, lifting your gaze to steal a glance at him, noting his stoic expression as you walked side by side.

Bucky remained silent. Instead, he acknowledged your gratitude with a curt, almost impatient grunt. His hand suddenly reached out, grasping your arm firmly but not roughly and gave an insistent tug.

He urged you to quicken your pace, his voice low and insistent. "Train station up ahead," he grumbled, his eyes darting around warily. "I've got some money in my pocket. Should be enough for tickets." As you hurried along, the dense forest gradually thinned out, giving way to the first signs of civilization. Warm, golden light from street lamps pierced through the misty rain, and you could see the outline of buildings rather than the uneven, almost abstract silhouette of the trees.

The transition from the forest floor to urban terrain was abrupt and jarring. Your feet had been accustomed to the soft, springy moss of the woodland for the last few hours, now met the unyielding surface of wet concrete. The sudden change in texture caused you to stumble slightly, your posture jerking upright as you adjusted to the new environment.

The outline of a small train station materialized through the rain as you both walked across the empty lot. As you approached, a ticket booth came into view, a solitary worker visible behind the foggy plexiglass. Bucky took the lead, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a fistful of crumpled euro bills, sliding the money under the narrow opening in the plexiglass. He exchanged only the briefest of words with the booth attendant, making it short and quick.

You boarded the waiting train, your footsteps echoing softly on the metal floor as you made your way through the narrow corridor. Eventually, you reached the car designated for your stay, fumbling briefly with the key before successfully unlocking the door to your cabin. With a gentle push, the door swung open, revealing a compact yet cozy space. Though, with all the anxiety you both felt, there wasn’t much appreciation for it.

Bucky carefully maneuvered himself into the small cabin, he sat on the modest bed nestled against the wall, sinking down onto its surface with a barely audible sigh. You noticed the tension in his shoulders, the slight furrow of his brow. Bucky closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, repeating this process several times. It was a technique you'd seen him use before, every time he would try to regain himself after an episode.

Your gaze remained fixed on him, concern etched across your features. It was obvious that Bucky was still engaged in an internal struggle, fighting to get control over the soldier's mindset that threatened to remain the dominant consciousness. These moments of transition were always challenging for him, the process of the soldier's persona receding leaving him vulnerable and raw.

"You're doing good, Bucky," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with encouragement. Your words seemed to reach him, and you noticed a slight relaxation in his posture as he continued his measured breathing. "Just like that...he will fall asleep and let you keep control." You hummed warmly, sitting beside him and rubbing his back.

He exhaled one final, deep breath, his chest deflating as the tension slowly ebbed from his body. The train suddenly jerked to life, the ancient gears in the wheels groaning and creaking as they began to turn. With a lurch, the massive iron beast slowly inched forward, gathering momentum. "I'm okay," Bucky finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. His throat bobbed visibly as he swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure after the soldier finally relented control and faded into the back of his mind.

"Good," you rasped back, your own voice rough with fatigue and stress. You turned your gaze to the window, but the darkness outside revealed nothing of the world rushing by. Trails of rain ran down the window, the spotted droplets turning into streaks as the train moved. After a moment of contemplation, you shifted in your seat to face Bucky once more. "So... where exactly are we going?" you asked, curiosity and a hint of trepidation coloring your tone.

Bucky's eyes, which had been fixed on some indeterminate point in the distance, finally lifted to meet yours. "France," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Then back here. Then... somewhere else. We have to keep moving, keep them guessing." He paused, "They won't think to look around Germany once they believe we've left the country. We'll use their assumptions against them, stay one step ahead."

"Ah, smart..." You murmured, settling back onto the plush bed. The gentle sway of the train car and the rhythmic clacking of wheels on tracks created a soothing ambiance that prevented that dull ringing from pure silence. From what Bucky had told you, the ride would stretch on for hours, well into the night. You wouldn’t have to get off the train at the stop in France, so this was going to be a long trip.

You decided to make yourself as comfortable as possible for the long haul ahead and began to peel off your rain-soaked garments. The damp fabric clung stubbornly to your skin, requiring some effort to remove. As each piece of clothing came away, you felt instant relief from the clammy sensation that had been plaguing you since the downpour. You were left in nothing but your undergarments, your skin finally able to breathe freely.

Bucky, ever attentive, couldn't help but watch as you undressed. His eyes traced the gentle curves of your form, appreciating the soft planes of exposed flesh. There was a sudden need in his gaze, though he maintained a respectful distance. The sight of you, vulnerable and nearly bare, completely trusting in him, stirred something in his gut. Bucky followed suit, he saw little point in remaining in his waterlogged attire for the duration of the night so he shed his own rain-drenched clothes, revealing his gorgeous physique. His meaty arms and legs, his soft belly, he had been doing so well since HYDRA. He filled out, and he looked so much healthier, building much more mass.

He crawled next to you, his movements slow and deliberate as he positioned himself close by. The two of you lay side by side, your bodies gradually warming up in the confined space. The gentle hum of the train's heater filled the cabin, its warmth seeping into your damp clothes laying on the opposing cushions and caressing your exposed skin. You shifted, nestling against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. His larger frame instinctively curled around you, providing an additional layer of warmth and security. The exhaustion of the day began to settle in your bones, and you allowed your eyelids to flutter closed, savoring a few moments of respite.

He glanced at your arm, noticing with concern the light bruises forming from when he had been grabbing you earlier in his role as the soldier. Bucky tenderly pulled your arm closer to inspect it, a frown taking over his features as he observed the marks of where his hand grasped you many times. His usually bright blue eyes narrowed, now clouded with guilt and remorse for his earlier behavior. In a silent gesture of apology, he softly kissed the bruised area, offering comfort where he could without words as you lay against him. The room enveloped in what was mostly silence, save for the tapping of heavy rain and the rhythm of the tracks. You were so exhausted from the day's events and the emotional toll they had taken on you. Despite everything, you chose to stay by his side, no matter what happens in his life. You were always there with him. You were the one person he could count on more than anyone else.

As your consciousness began to drift away, it suddenly snapped back into focus as you felt Bucky's warm body pressing closer to yours. His calloused hand slowly descended, gently caressing your inner thigh with a tenderness that belied his strength. His thumb traced delicate circles on your skin, sending shivers up your spine. Bucky shifted slightly, propping himself up to gaze directly into your eyes, his own blue orbs filled with a mixture of vulnerability and adoration.

"Doll, I..." he began, his voice husky with emotion, "You mean the world to me. You've been by my side...no matter what. Even with...the winter soldier still hidden in my head. You have stuck with me." As he spoke, his hand continued its gentle exploration, inching closer to your most sensitive area, his touch both comforting and electrifying.

"Bucky..." you breathed, your voice laden with affection and reassurance. "I love you. I'm not going anywhere - not now, not ever." Your hand instinctively reached up to cup his stubbly cheek, your fingers tenderly stroking the rough texture of his skin. Bucky leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the intimacy of the gesture.

"You don't need to thank me for standing by you or for protecting you," you continued, your voice soft but filled with conviction. "It's not a burden or an obligation like you always seem to think…it's a choice I make every day because of how much you mean to me. I may not be able to move mountains or change the world, but I'll always do whatever is within my power to support and love you, Bucky. That's a promise."

His eyes glistened with a hint of moisture, your words resonating with him and making him feel much more emotional. Slowly, he leaned down, closing the distance between you as his lips met yours in a tender kiss. The softness of his slightly damp lips sent a shiver through your body as he moved them against your own eager ones. His body hovered over yours, creating a protective cocoon around you. His thick arms, strong yet aware and careful, formed a gentle cage, holding you close beneath him. The warmth of his presence enveloped you, the cold of the rain and soaked clothes now long gone as you pressed up into his lips in return.

When Bucky pulled back, his eyes met yours, filled with tenderness and longing. "M'gonna show you just how much I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For stickin' by my side through everything... through all of those long nights, through hiding and running..."

His right hand gently cradled your arm, his touch feather-light as he examined the tender flesh he had inadvertently grabbed earlier while in his Winter Soldier mindset. Your skin was sensitive, sporting light bruises from where his hand had held on. Bucky's expression softened further, a hint of regret flickering across his features. “I’m fine, Buck Buck.” You whispered soothingly, not wanting him to feel bad.

He placed soft, reverent kisses along the discolored skin after you spoke, each press of his lips was like a silent apology. His warm breath fanned across your skin in gentle, soothing pants, you could see he was getting worked up.

His body shifted above you again, his fingers delicately hooking into the elastic of your underwear and slowly tugged them down your legs, savoring every inch of newly exposed skin. The fabric whispered against your thighs before he flicked them off onto the floor, not paying any attention to where they went. A shiver of anticipation ran through you as the cool air caressed your now-bare skin. Your breath caught in your throat, a mixture of excitement and vulnerability washing over you after being fully exposed to his gaze. It wasn’t the first time, of course, but that didn’t matter right now.

Bucky held your legs, his touch both firm and tender, wrapping his arms under your hips, lifting you up off the flimsy mattress slightly. The sudden contact made you gasp softly, your body tensing momentarily as the cold metal of his left arm pressed against your warm skin. The contrast was electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through your body.

"Ah, Bucky..." You hitched, your voice a breathy whisper filled with desire and anticipation. Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you, your body trembling slightly, feeling his hot breath against your lower abdomen.

His mouth placed open kisses on your belly, a line going across your abdomen as he kissed. His hair draped over his forehead as he dipped down, his stubble scratched your sensitive skin as he lowered farther to your core. You felt yourself quiver, his lips were right there...and the damn soldier was teasing you.

He gently spread you open, taking in everything you had to offer him. You were so beautiful, his hazy eyes glued to your folds and he finally lowered down to you. His tongue licked a slow stripe up from your entrance to your clit, teasingly flicking over it once and making you moan quietly. Your breath hitched as he did it again, his tongue was so warm and the pressure he applied was always perfect.

Bucky always knew what to do, his lips were wrapped around your pretty pearl within seconds and he gave you little nursing suckles. Your body stiffened instantly and your hips moved towards him on their own, chasing that addicting wave of pleasure that continuously shot through your limbs. He sucked so good, his tongue teasingly circling the bud in his mouth while he nursed on your clit. Those strong arms held your hips firm, preventing you from having more and less.

He released your clit, listening to you moan below him and he chuckled, his voice coming out in a teasing whisper. "Shh...we can't let anyone hear you..." You felt his hands trail up your body in a slow rub, squeezing your soft sides before he groped your breasts. He teased your nipples, pinching them and rolling them in his fingertips. The cool metal fingers of his left hand made you gasp, your back arching up off the flimsy mattress.

"Bucky...oh shit..." You huffed and held his wrists while he toyed with your sensitive buds. It was dark in the cabin, but he could tell they were a bit more red than usual, your body responding to him eagerly. "Please..." You lifted your hips to try to encourage him to lick you again, desperate for his lips and tongue on your wet cunt, lapping and sucking you to your climax. You were desperate, needy, you wanted more as he continued to give you enough to tease, but not enough to feel that ecstasy you desired.

"S'good baby...just let me play with you. I'll make you feel good, I promise...just sit still for me." He laid sloppy, open mouthed kisses to your inner thigh, his teeth gently nipping your skin as he lightly suckled with each kiss. His hot breath hit your pussy and you knew he was hovering his mouth there on purpose, just to watch you whine and mewl under his hold. That stupid smile on his face that made your belly tighten, his mischievous glint, he finally relented and let his tongue lap at you again.

He teased your entrance, his tongue pushing in a few times and swirling around, dragging your arousal up and over your throbbing clit. Bucky expertly drew elaborate designs on your little pearl, being urged on by your sweet, delicate sounds of need and pleasure. Your hips desperately chasing his light touches, encouraging him to do more to you. You let out a frustrated huff and your hand tangled in his hair. "Bucky, come on, please..."

Your plea went to his groin, the blood rushing down and making him twitch. "You're so good to me, doll..." he grunted against your folds, taking your clit into his mouth and giving a harsh suckle. You bit your lip hard to stifle your loud cry. "So damn good to me...always by my side. Always makin' sure m'alright..." He laid kisses along your slit, his tongue slithering inside you again, swiping all the way up through your folds. "You taste so good for me...like a drug. I love lickin' you baby...I love suckin' your pretty clit. Such pretty sounds for me, c'mon babydoll, make some noise f'me..."

Your clit was engulfed once more, his lips and tongue giving you intense suckling and swirling. He sucked on your precious bundle of nerves like he were drinking down sweet honey, his tongue cradling your bead as his arms and hands kept you perfectly still for him to work on you. His tongue swirled in gentle circles before he settled it underneath the bud, continuing to nurse on you.

"Bucky...I-I'm close, if you keep doing that..." You rasped and stuttered, your voice coming out with gentle whines emphasizing the pleasure you were feeling. You let out short pants as your orgasm rapidly approached, his tongue working your clit relentlessly, he could feel you were close. The way it twitched on his wet muscle, how you writhed beneath his arms, the erratic breaths coming out of your parted lips.

He kept just as he was, knowing that this is what was getting you there. He didn't change a thing, and you finally reached your peak, chasing it down and pouncing on it until it overwhelmed you. With the sweet arch of your back, he finally allowed you to grind and buck your hips into his mouth. He held your waist as you tugged on his hair and mewled out a little too loudly. His name leaving your mouth in a sweet symphony of beautiful moans, he about humped the mattress below him to satisfy the growing urge from his cock.

After your body relaxed from its rigid state, you laid back down on the mattress and gasped, his tongue continuously and lazily lapping up your mess. "Ah...Bucky..." You gave his hair a gentle tug, overstimulation making your legs shake vigorously. He lifted, his lips glossy and his chin wet from his little feast.

You didn't care, you pulled him close and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips and eagerly pulling him closer to your body. The aftershocks had run completely through you, so your shaking body was growing chilled in the tiny train cabin. His warmth was something your body instinctively sought in the dark room. The tracks were loud as was the rain, you hoped that was enough to muffle your embarrassing outcry of pleasure.

Your face reddened, a deep blush spreading over your cheeks as you thought back to the sounds of your own moans, which seemed to echo in your mind. Bucky, so attentive and extra charming in the moment, just chuckled softly in response, his eyes twinkling with affection. "You're beautiful, doll. So beautiful...did so well for me," he murmured in that endearing tone of his that never failed to make your heart flutter.

Bucky dipped his head down, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your chin and jawline, slowly moving down the side of your neck. He kept himself close to you, his arms creating a warm, secure cocoon around you…despite the usually cold metal arm that you often had wrapped up when you two slept together. He clearly tried shielding you from the chilly air that permeated the train cabin, his warmth a comforting barrier against the cold.

"And you're very handsome, with the prettiest pink lips," you whispered back, your voice soft and full of admiration for the man you loved. Even though you were still rather dazed from your orgasm, you felt a little better than you had moments ago. Your arms were still heavy with blissful exhaustion, but they lazily wrapped around his neck and shoulders. You played absentmindedly with the roots of his hair at the back of his head, twirling the strands gently between your fingers in the way that he liked.

"What happens when we get back to Germany? Where will we go once the train turns around?" You asked in a soft whisper as Bucky laid beside you, cradling you close and more comfortably. He sighed back to you, watching the faint lights out the tiny window of the roomette flicker and dance as the train sped through the night.

"We go somewhere else. Quickly. Maybe Russia," he replied, his voice a gentle murmur that matched the rhythmic clatter of the train's wheels on the tracks. "There are a lot of small, private towns we could go to, hidden away from the world. Places they won't think to look, places where we can blend in and live quietly, away from prying eyes and cameras. Places where we could be at peace. Or, try to be." He mumbled softly, his thumb gently caressing your shoulder as you laid close, feeling the warmth of his body and the reassuring steadiness of his presence.

You gave a soft hum in response to him, feeling the warmth and comfort as you snuggled even closer into his broad, welcoming chest, so warm like a heater. "Well...I guess I have to practice my Russian," you said with a playful chuckle, the sound light and soft. You placed a tender kiss on his sternum, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing before settling in for the night. The drop in hormones after fleeing from the government and Bucky so eagerly eating you out made you feel especially tired. Bucky glanced down at you with a gentle gaze, pulling you a little closer, his lips curving up into a small, affectionate smile.

"I'll teach you, help you refresh," he whispered with a reassuring tone, his voice a calm and soothing presence in the quiet room. "Let's worry about that later...for now, get some sleep. We've got at least eleven more hours," he added, his words a comforting reminder of the time you had together, promising a long, restful night ahead.

"You need sleep too," you insisted, your brow furrowing with concern. You had a strong feeling that he wouldn't allow himself a moment's rest while you were sleeping. "Promise you'll get some sleep," you repeated earnestly, "You can't stay up the entire time and be exhausted when we get back. It's important to take care of yourself too, besides, if you’re sleep deprived you won’t be alert."

"I promise I will," he replied, a gentle chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to reassure you. "I'm just gonna stay up for a little longer. I want to make sure everything is good... that no one is here lookin' for us. Once I know we're safe, I'll get some rest, I swear." His eyes softened as he spoke, trying to ease your worries.

"Hm..." You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicious of his promise but he had never lied to you before so...you relented. "Fine. Since you promised." You settled down into his chest and let your heavy eyelids finally close, sleep had been clawing at your consciousness and you were finally allowing yourself to be taken. Bucky was happy you fell asleep, he wanted you to rest. For everything you've done for him, being with him throughout everything, your love and loyalty was something that constantly amazed him. But he couldn't ask for anyone better than you. You were his everything, and he'd continue to love and protect you with every fiber of his being.

Bucky's own eyes grew heavy after staying awake for a while, weighed down by the fatigue of the long journey and the emotional toll of the day’s events. You both gradually succumbed to the comforting embrace of sleep, wrapped together closely with limbs hooked around each other, fitting together snugly like customized puzzle pieces. The rhythmic and soothing sound of the train tracks clicking beneath you provided a steady lullaby, while the rain stormed down incessantly on the roof of the train, creating a calming yet persistent background symphony that replaced your need for white noise that you had always insisted on using.

As the train tirelessly carried you to newfound safety, away from the chaos that lay behind, the world outside blurred into a haze, granting you a temporary break from all the stress the world brought upon you both.

Thanks for reading - em🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest.

[tacobacoyeet]

knight in shining armor | b.b.

a/n: my first bridgerton fic! and my first fic in quite a while- i'm sorry! i fear i have fallen in love with yet another fictional character. and his brothers. and his sisters. anyway... enjoy!

warnings: implied sexual harassment (first two paragraphs), benedict bridgerton being the man of my dreams

the gardens are a sanctuary from the noise and intensity of the ball, a place where you can catch your breath and gather your thoughts. the evening had started so beautifully, with chandeliers glittering like a thousand stars and the music swirling around you like a warm embrace. but then that lord—lord berbrooke—had cornered you, his breath reeking of brandy, his words slurred and inappropriate. his hands had roamed where they had no right to go, and his whispered suggestions had made your skin crawl. you managed to escape, but your heart is still pounding, and you can feel the prickling of tears threatening to spill over.

as you take deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, you hear the familiar sound of footsteps on the gravel path. you look up to see benedict bridgerton, your childhood best friend, approaching with a concerned expression on his face. his presence is a balm to your frayed nerves, and you feel a rush of relief.

“y/n,” he says softly, stopping a few feet away from you. “are you alright? i saw you run out and... i was worried.”

you nod, trying to muster a smile, but it wavers. “i am fine, benedict. i ust needed some air.”

he steps closer, his eyes scanning your face. “you do not look fine. what happened?”

you hesitate, not wanting to burden him with your troubles, but the earnest concern in his eyes breaks down your resolve. “it was lord berbrooke. he... he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

benedict’s expression darkens, his jaw tightening. “that bastard. my fist shall have a word with him.”

“no,” you say quickly, placing a hand on his arm. “please, do not. i just want to forget about it.”

his gaze softens, and he covers your hand with his own. “if that what you truly wish. but know that i am here for you. always.”

you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his touch, his words. benedict has always had that effect on you, ever since you were children. he’s always been your protector, your confidant. but recently, your feelings for him have grown more complex, more intense. you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same.

“thank you, benedict,” you say quietly. “you’re a good friend.”

he smiles, but there’s something in his eyes, something that makes your heart skip a beat. “i’d do anything for you, y/n. you know that.”

you look away, unable to hold his gaze, and he lets out a soft chuckle. “come, let’s walk. the gardens are beautiful tonight.”

he offers his arm, and you take it, feeling the warmth of his body through his coat. as you stroll through the moonlit paths, the tension in your chest begins to ease. benedict keeps up a steady stream of light-hearted conversation, his wit and charm never failing to make you smile.

eventually, you find yourselves at a secluded bench surrounded by fragrant roses. benedict guides you to sit down, and he takes a seat beside you, his knee brushing against yours. the proximity sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of your heart.

“do you remember,” he begins, his voice soft and nostalgic, “when we used to play in these gardens as children? we’d pretend we were explorers in some far-off land.”

you laugh, the memory bringing a genuine smile to your face. “and you would always insist on being the brave knight, while i had to be the damsel in distress.”

he grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “well, i couldn’t let you face those imaginary dragons alone, could i?”

“no, you couldn’t,” you agree, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought. “you’ve always been my protector, benedict.”

he looks at you then, really looks at you, and you feel like he’s seeing right into your soul. 

your heart skips a beat. “benedict…? are you alright?”

benedict moves closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “you are so beautiful… an absolute masterpiece,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

your breath catches,cheeks turning a deep pink, and your heart feels like it might burst. “benedict, i...”

he looks to your lips, his face impossibly close, and then meets your eyes once again. you nod, ever so slighty… and without another word, he closes the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tender, passionate kiss. it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, his kiss conveying all the emotions you’ve both kept hidden for so long. it feels as if all of the flowers bloom, his kiss warming you to your very core. 

you lose yourself in the moment, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands hold you close. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, connected in a way that feels utterly perfect.

the spell is broken by the sound of an angry shout nearby. “benedict!”

you pull back, your cheeks flushed, and turn to see anthony bridgerton standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disapproval.

“benedict, y/n,” anthony says, his voice stern. “what are you doing out here?”

benedict stands, pulling you up with him, his hand still holding yours. “anthony, we...”

you chime in nervously. “it is not what it looks like!” 

anthony’s eyes narrow. “i do not care what it looks like. you know the rules, benedict. you know what this means.”

benedict takes a deep breath, his grip on your hand tightening. “what if i have wished to marry her all along?”

the words hang in the air, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. did he just say what you think he said?

anthony’s eyes widen, and he looks between the two of you. “you... you wish to marry her?”

benedict turns to you, his eyes soft and filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “yes, anthony. i do. i’ve loved y/n for as long as i can remember.”

tears spring to your eyes, and you squeeze his hand. “benedict, i... i love you too.”

anthony looks at the two of you, his expression a mix of surprise and something else—something like approval. he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “well, i suppose there is nothing more to be said, then. if you both love each other, then you have my blessing.”

relief floods through you, and you throw your arms around benedict, feeling his arms wrap around you in return. “thank you, anthony,” you say, your voice choked with emotion.

benedict pulls back slightly, his hand cupping your cheek. “y/n, i have loved you since we were children, and i shall love you until my very last breath.”

“i love you forever, my dearest knight,” you reply, your heart bursting.

as you share another tender kiss, you know that this is just the beginning of a beautiful new chapter in your lives. the future may hold challenges, but with benedict by your side, you know you can face anything.

[jobean12-blog]

Safe

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 751

Summary: When things go badly you do exactly as Joel told you and he keeps you safe.

Author's Note: Totally self indulgent here. The scene with the knife and just the whole thought of him wielding weapons of any kind and doing whatever he has to to keep his woman safe is everything. Also his neck in the gif...his fingers and hands and just all of it. So that's it. 🫠Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: angsty for five seconds, soft and sweet with some hints of spice, light k-ni-f-e pl-ay, protective Joel.

Joel Miller Masterlist

The door flies open with a bang and you plaster yourself against the far wall, the piece of wood in your hand lifted and ready.

Joel’s eyes lock on yours and you can see his expression soften as he looks you over. You deflate with relief and without a sound he inches closer, his knife poised. He places one long finger against his lips, motioning for you to stay quiet.

You give him the slightest nod and try to slow your breathing. He waits, his head cocked as he listens for any other sounds from outside.

When he’s convinced you’re alone and safe he closes the distance between you and takes your chin between his fingers. You drop the piece of wood to the floor with a thump.

He turns your head side to side, studying your face for any sign of injury before his eyes sweep down the rest of your body.

“You ok darlin’?” he asks as he let’s out a steadying breath.

His fingers fall from your face and trace a delicate line down your neck.

“I am now,” you whisper.

“Did they…?”

His jaw hardens with tension as he awaits your answer.

You gently shake your head before your eyes drop to his mouth.

“I’m ok,” you assure him. “Maybe just some bumps and bruises.”

His large hand cradles your cheek and he brushes his thumb across your lips then tilts your head back so you meet his eyes. In his other hand the knife is still grasped firmly in his fingers.

He looks unsure and not because he doesn’t believe you, but because he doesn’t believe they wouldn’t hurt you.

“You got here in time,” you say softly. “I’m ok.”

“Ok,” he breathes out, carefully releasing you.

His eyes fall to the open buttons of your shirt and he sees a small patch of dried blood. You follow his line of sight and quickly say, “it’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

He carefully takes the point of the knife and moves aside the collar of your shirt, revealing a large gash just under your collarbone.

He’s silent as he stares, slowly bringing his gaze back to you.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch darlin’.”

You don’t answer, your breathing becoming more unsteady as he trails the knife along the swell of your breasts.

His eyes darken as he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip.

“Any other scratches I should know about?”

“Not sure. Everything happened so quickly and all I was thinking about were your instructions to come here and wait for you.”

He drags the blunt edge of the knife lower, hooking the blade under the first closed button of your shirt.

“I better not find anything worse…” he warns before he gives the knife a quick tug and the button goes flying.

With more of your skin exposed his eyes linger and he deftly twirls the knife, letting it lightly brush against you.

Your shiver doesn’t go unnoticed and the corner of his mouth twitches with a smirk.

He slides the tip down toward the next button, teasingly toying with it until you whine out his name. With another pop it rattles to the floor and his free hand grazes your skin, parting the material of your shirt to reveal more of you.

He makes quick work of the last two buttons then uses the tip of the knife to brush the shirt off of your shoulders. It catches at your elbows as his intense gaze wanders over every inch of you.

A large bruise is forming near your waist and he lets out a hiss.

Before you can protest he spins the knife and hides it away, immediately stepping closer and cradling you in his arms. He gently tilts your head to the side and trails his lips down your neck, stopping just above the gash.

He looks up at you through his dark lashes then presses his lips delicately to the cut, following the jagged line. You sigh his name and your fingers find purchase in his tousled hair. His mouth moves lower, between your breasts and down your stomach until he reaches the bruise.

His large hand splays across your skin with a tender caress.

“Oh darlin’,” he murmurs.

He slowly stands, pressing soft kisses along your stomach until he finds your mouth with a whisper of a kiss.

“If they weren’t all already dead I’d kill them again.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @lorilane33 @littleseasiren @kmc1989

[alittlerobin]

Elbert/Kate/Alfons

tags: hurt/comfort; established relationship, m/m/f word count: 1.4k

The last thing she wanted to do was leave Elbert there on his own, but the moment she heard the faintest of falling footsteps out in the hall, she rushed out of their bedroom. 

She was clad only in her nightgown, her feet bare as she raced down the stairs, heart pounding. It was hours past midnight, yet dawn was still too far off to begin chasing the darkness away. The thought of leaving Elbert alone in their room for even a second, shivering and gasping with tears in his eyes, it wrenched her heart into pieces… 

But on nights like this, she didn’t always know what to say, how to calm him or distract him. Not like how Alfons did, at least. She was still learning, still struggling to find the right words or actions, uncertain if a thought would be triggering or comforting, uncertain of everything. 

She stopped on the bottom of the stairs, feet frozen from the chill and the panic, and then her eyes met Alfons’s ashen-grey gaze as he returned from one of his nights on the town. “Al, he’s–”

Alfons’s signature grin dropped immediately. 

“He’s not hurt,” she stammered in her rush to explain, the words almost choking in her throat. “He just had a bad nightmare, and I can’t… I don’t know what to do. Please hurry.”

At that, Alfons swept across the hall with unusual urgency. His jacket billowed like raven’s wings behind him and he paused only briefly at the top of the stairs, waiting for her to join him. She grabbed his hand, using it to steady her own aching heart, and together they ran back to the bedroom. 

“Al…” Elbert’s voice sounded beautifully broken as they both stepped into the room. The low light from the single lamp she’d lit illuminated his skin, making the sweat beading on it glisten. 

Alfons’s hand slipped out of hers as he clicked his tongue, crossing the room. “Tsk, tsk, my dear Elbie. You should’ve seen the look on Kate’s face when she ran down to greet me. Absolutely terrified.”

“I… I’m sorry…” Elbert’s voice was softer than a whisper and his golden lashes fluttered shut, the tears clinging to them sparkling like diamonds.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Kate replied, sitting back down on their bed. She shifted as close to him as she could without touching him, letting him be the one to initiate contact when he wanted to. 

“She’s right, you know,” Alfons sighed. “But if it makes you feel better, you can go shout your sorry’s from the rooftop.”

Elbert opened his eyes, the oceanic blue of them going wide. “...Does that help?”

“For you, I very much doubt it.” A smile was back on Alfons’s lips, but it was softer, more genuine than the one he usually had plastered on. He slipped out of his shoes, removing his coat and his tie, but when he made to shed the rest of his clothes, Elbert reached out and took hold of his wrist to stop him.

“Don’t… Leave it on, please. I…”

She knew why. And so would Alfons. 

Elbert had mentioned before that the mix of cologne, booze, and god knew what else that clung to Alfons after his nights out were a comfort. Because when that profane scent was around, it meant Alfons was around. And when Alfons was with him, no one would come and make him suffer any further on those nights…

Alfons heaved out an exaggerated sigh, but he didn’t protest. He peeled off his gloves and then pressed a knee into the mattress, boxing Elbert in between him and Kate. 

The second he was within reach, Elbert turned into him, dropping his forehead against Alfons’s chest. The rapid rhythm of Kate’s heart slowed and she sighed with relief, the tension dropping from her shoulders as Alfons’s arms wound around Elbert to comfort him. 

“You’re such a fool. Since our robin has a far more ample bosom, I'd recommend burying yourself in her chest rather than mine.”

There, just like that. Alfons always seemed to be able to drive that pain away with his nonchalance and depravity that might’ve seemed like some ill-advised joke, yet always succeeded in turning thoughts from gloom to scandal or exasperated amusement. Early on, she might’ve scolded him. Yet now she smiled, seeing a hint of the same expression gently touch the corners of Elbert’s beautiful lips. 

“Both…” Elbert whispered, his long and elegant fingers clinging to the fabric of Alfons’s vest. “I want both…”

“So greedy. Whatever will we do with you.” Alfons tutted, faking a scolding, and his gaze caught Kate’s. “Come on, little robin, you heard him. He wants both.”

As if she could ever deny him. Either of them. She moved closer, closing the distance between them and gingerly touching Elbert’s back. At the same time, Alfons’s fingers stroked over the nape of Elbert’s neck, light and soothing, like he was petting a kitten. However he didn’t lean down to whisper, casting no illusions. It was merely a touch, with no magic, no curse behind it. 

And as soon as Alfons’s fingers pulled away, Elbert turned, slipping into Kate’s open arms instead. She craned her head down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head as Elbert nuzzled into her chest, his arms winding around her waist. She stroked her fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp and taking the role of whispering to him softly, reassuring he was safe there between them. No more bad dreams, no more nightmares. Not for forever, but for tonight. For the rest of tonight, he had them both there to protect him. 

His grip gradually loosened, his beautiful lashes fluttering shut. And within a few minutes, his breathing was steady and calm, lulled into a far kinder sleep. 

The last of the tension inside her melted away and she swallowed a sob of relief, glancing up. The expression on Alfons’s face was so gentle and sweet, it made her heart ache–but this time, with utter joy.

“Thank you…” she whispered, threading her fingers through Elbert’s golden hair once again. “I feel like I’d be so lost without you…”

After a long, silent moment, Alfons closed his eyes, as if afraid to meet her gaze. When he spoke, it was with an unusual strain to his voice. “For so many years, on nights like this, I tried to offer him comfort, tried to give him an escape. At times, on those days when I hadn’t been able to help him evade those vile servants… I offered him illusions, but he always broke out of them so quickly…”

Alfons opened his eyes, looking into hers briefly, before dropping his gaze to their peacefully sleeping Elbert. He reached out, picking up a lock of Elbert’s silken hair, and twisted it between his fingers. “He very rarely accepted my help, preferring to suffer like he believed he deserved. And he never sought out comfort or asked me on his own. The fact that he does so now…”

Alfons leaned down, pressing one kiss to Elbert’s golden hair and another to the back of Kate’s hand. “You may feel lost at times like these, but you’re the one who saved us both. Never forget that, my dear.”

A heat painted her cheeks and melted all the way down to her heart. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Al.”

“Of course not.” Like a shadow passing over a mirror, a haughty grin danced its way back across Alfons’s lips. “All three of us are hopeless fools. We need each other, or we’ll completely fall apart. Isn’t that disgustingly tragic?”

Kate laughed, then bit her lip to stifle it, not wanting to rouse Elbert. “I love you both.”

“Yes, yes, I’m aware. Be sure to tell him in the morning when he wakes up. I’m sure he’ll be eager to thank us by ravishing us both.” With a large and very much put-on yawn, Alfons nestled into the bed and draped an arm around Elbert’s waist. He shut his eyes, muttering out a casual good night.

With a smile, Kate tugged the blankets over all three of them and laid down as well. She cradled Elbert’s head against her chest and found Alfons’s hand under the sheets, lacing their fingers together. As she drifted off to sleep only minutes later, she swore she felt his thumb gently stroking over the back of her hand. 

This scene was the furthest thing from what she could’ve imagined happening when she was first brought to Crown Castle. But now… she wouldn’t wish for it to be any other way. 

[petertingle-yipyip]

STRANGER (iv) -KAZ BREKKER

tags: @beekeepingageissome @shadowzena43 @nikfigueiredo @mp-littlebit @starmansirius @hadesnumber1daughter // previously / next

Pairing: Kaz x Davina Rollins (enemies to lovers)

Word Count: 6,626

Summary: The Bastard of the Barrel faces off with the Snake. On neutral ground, the start of the potential alliance shines through. The only problem is if it can cut through the tension.

You slammed Kaz against the wall hard. Maybe harder than you needed to. The impact shifted the hat he wore and you wanted to smack it off his head. You twisted the fistful of his jacket for a tighter grip. Your forearm was pressed against his chest and your knuckles were pressing at the high collar of the button-up under the jacket.

Your other hand was firmly against his mouth. Your fingers were pressing into his cheek, feeling the presence of a faded scar on his skin and the hammering pulse in his veins. You could feel his shallow breathing, both from the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the exhales from his nose.

He was rigid under your pressure. His arms were locked at his side, a death grip on his cane that you thought would snap it in half. His eyes were bigger than dinner plates and it was as if he was trying to become one with the wall behind him.

“Are you insane?” You hissed. “Lions prowl the Barrel more than you and the Crows. You call me that and it could very well end with a bullet in my chest.”

He said nothing, but it felt like he was trembling.

“Yes, it’s not nice when someone else has you pinned.” You continued. “I ought to rid myself of you right now.”

More silence, as if he had shut down.

You rolled your eyes and released his jacket. You reached under your cloak and freed your knife, holding it against his throat instead.

“Will you speak now, hmm?” You taunted. “Or have you forgotten your Kerch?”

It may have been the clouds hiding the sun, or the depth of the alley you ducked into, but you were convinced you had seen his eyes go glassy as if he were fighting tears. His breathing had grown faster, shallower. You worried his heart may give out.

What had you done?

All the Saints, Davina, how did you break him?

“Kaz?” Your brows furrowed. “Are you alright?”

His eyes darted to the hand on his mouth before back to your eyes. You saw a thin sheen of sweat beginning across his features so you carefully withdrew both your hands. You put them up in surrender, or maybe apology, and took a step back.

His eyes closed and you saw the heavy sigh of relief. He tilted his head back against the brick and he slid down, dropping to the unceremonious thud. His cane clattered lightly beside him and he pulled his hat off, holding it tightly between his gloved hands.

Carefully, you knelt in front of him. You swallowed your nerves as you put your knife away. You shifted your position so your back was more towards the streets and you adjusted your hood so your face was more visible.

You hesitated, both wondering what was happening and how you were supposed to react. You could tell that he was losing himself in thoughts, something haunted, but how were you supposed to bring him back to the present?

Or felt like you were caught in some intimate moment, some vulnerable instance that you were never meant to see.

You considered the childish nickname you had for him. It would be easy enough to say, but you wanted to at least pretend you had maintained your secret identity. 

“Brekker?” You tried instead but he wouldn’t open his eyes. You reached for his arm, to try and place a comforting hand, but he jerked his limb away from your touch as soon as your hand touched his sleeve. “What’s…”

“Do not touch me.” He bit out and you nearly flinched.

“Is there any way I can help?”

“Keep talking.” He said tightly. “Please.”

“If this is some ploy to get me to give you intelligence on the snakes.” You snapped.

“It isn’t, Vina…”

Vina. The nickname he decided he would use instead of Davi. It hit your chest like an anvil and you sucked in a gasp. You were equal parts glad he still remembered and surprised he used it.

“Fine…” You forced out and nodded, buying time to think about what to say. “Well, I’ve been thinking of learning Ravkan. I think language is the one thing I hadn’t had a tutor for as a child. Saints, that sounds terrible, like I were a merchant’s daughter.” You wrinkled your nose in disgust. Not that your true parentage was much better.

“Oh but I do wish I had a tutor for more grace, to move and float like the Suli. Their abilities on the high wire or the trapeze are just magical, don’t you think?”

What were you supposed to say? You had no idea what else to yammer about so you simply pretended you were just two people catching up, and in a way, maybe you were.

“Not to say I can’t stick a landing or a balance across a parapet, but I feel as if it’s just amateur. Perhaps I’m being overly critical of myself.” You shrugged. “I am self-taught in most regards, which is impressive if I say so myself, but dammit all if I cannot do some of the tricks the Wraith can do. I envy her for that.”

Among other things, like Dirtyhands’ favor.

No. Even though you had silenced it, the little voice wouldn’t stay away long.

“You envy the Wraith?” He finally spoke. His voice was tight, like an elastic pulled too tight, and rough like it had been dragged across East Stave. His eyes were finally open, though he was staring blankly at the wall across from him.

“She moves with such grace and fluidity.” You confessed. “Such sure-footedness. It’s as if she’s never questioned where to step or where she’s going.”

“You say that as if you don’t.”

“I know what I want.” Mostly. “But I’m not sure if it will be all I want.”

“What is it that you want?”

Looking at Kaz, with that brief crack in his armor, it made you reconsider what you had told Melli earlier. There is nothing between Kaz and I. And she was right, he was very pretty. But it also reminded you of something else. Kaz was just a man, and all men could fall.

You didn’t want that, though. At least, you didn’t think you did.

“That seems to be the question, other than to see my father’s empire burn, of course.” You nodded. “What just happened to you?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with, Hood.” He said flatly. You could tell there was the intent of anger in the words, cool danger that was supposed to threaten, but it was missing. Maybe purposefully so. “Why are you visiting Zenik?”

“For a chat.” You shrugged. If he wanted to switch personas, you could too. “She makes me laugh, and given the life I choose to lead, I could use it.”

“And the boy?”

“Who I choose to tumble is none of your concern.” You snapped, pushing to your feet, and noticed he looked as if you had struck him. The expression was quick and you had nearly missed it. You stepped over his outstretched legs and reached down, picking up his cane and tossing it between your hands. “I could ask why you’re shadowing me and what you hope to learn, assuming you don’t have everything figured out already, but I won’t. Because unlike you, my friend, I can see when I’ve hit a wall I cannot yet beat down.”

You offered a hand to help him up but he batted it away. You made a face to yourself and turned your attention to some imaginary lint on your cloak while he worked to stand. Once he was on his feet, you handed the cane back and you noticed his purposeful avoidance of your hands.

“Have you been to your new business venture recently?” Kaz asked. A casual enough question, but a question from Kaz was never simple. Every inquisition was a loaded blow, ready to strike for information.

“No.” You confessed, pulling your hood down to hide in the shadows it created. “I intended to stop by later. Why? What have you done?”

“Do you think me so underhanded that I wouldn't give you a day to enjoy your purchase?”

“Well, considering it has been a day since, yes.”

“Your gambling hall is unscathed.” He shrugged and you glared at him. “But there is a neat little message waiting for you.”

“Is this some coy way of saying that you’ve repainted the facade with blood?” You asked wearily. “Or you’ve hung Dime Lions from the gutters?”

“Now that would be a sight, wouldn’t it?” His eyes shone with the thought. “But alas, I haven’t.”

“Then what’s the message?”

“Well, that’d spoil it.” He feigned a frown and you thought of stomping on his meticulously polished shoe. “The Wraith went through all the effort to deliver it herself.”

“Now I’m sure it’s a body. If it’s not Pekka Rollins, you can take it back.”

He smiled at the idea and it was a smile of pure malice. That was who the Barrel knew as Dirtyhands, and that was a man you could fear. However, you maintained composure and showed no sign of backing down.

“Or maybe it’s the ring.” Your eyes caught on the flash of silver chain around his neck. You smiled slightly. “I wouldn’t have thought you one for sympathy, Dirtyhands.”

“Clearly you don’t know me the way you think, Hood.” He waved a hand.

You made a small noise of disagreement and shrugged your shoulders. He cut you a sideways glance and you saw his hands shifted over the crow’s head of his cane. You thought of the weight it carried when it banged into your ribs, the precision he used to slice your cheek, the all over danger the adorned stick held.

“You should know…” You began, backing out of the alley. “If you speak at all on that name and my appearances again, I’ll have to cut out your tongue.”

“Is that right?” He asked in amusement, as if he were playing a game with a toddler.

“Yes, quite. I’ll cut it out, shove it down your treacherous throat, and then I’ll slit your neck open and watch you choke on your tongue and drown in your own blood.” You threatened. “What a sight that would be, hmm? Oh, and then I’ll dump your body at the Wraith’s feet.”

“I can only imagine what she’d do in return.” He mocked, feigning a shiver. “Besides, I could give you the same warning for what you’ve seen here.”

“But you won’t?” You asked hesitantly.

As he walked by you, he tapped the crow’s head against your arm in some sort of silent message. You nearly pulled a blade on him, or at the very least stuck your foot out to trip the bastard.

But you did nothing. Once he was out of sight, you let out a long sigh. You had no idea what was going on anymore, but you did know one thing. You had to figure out what was waiting for you at the gambling hall, courtesy of the Dregs.

When Kol met you outside, his eyes were alight from using his powers. He was grinning, rubbing his fingers together as if they were covered in something you couldn’t see, and the excitement was radiating off him. You brought him with you to retrieve the message before returning to your building.

You brought it to your office and called Melli in. She insisted Kol stay. She said that you needed more people in your inner circle than just her and a Corporalnik was as good as anyone. You waved a hand and dropped in your chair while she opened the door and called him back in.

Your cloak was still fitted in place and your arms crossed under the dark fabric, hood still sitting low on your forehead. You stared silently at the envelope, seeing your name across the front in a tall, slanted script. You doubted it was the Wraith’s or Haskell’s. No, something about the letters told you it was Kaz who wrote it.

You shivered.

“You’re staring at it like it will speak to you.” Melli commented.

“Or like it’s going to bite her.” Kol joked.

“Maybe it will.” You answered flatly. “You never know for sure what Dirtyhands is up to.”

“Don’t you?” Melli teased but you refrained from turning a glare on her. You heard her huff a loud sigh. “Oh for Saint’s sake, Dav, you can take the hood off. You look like you’re part of that cult.”

“A cult?” Your eyes came up.

“There’s rumors of a small cult in Ravka, devoted to the Starless One… The Darkling.” Kol filled in, a deep frown settling across his usually bright features. “They think he should be named a Saint.”

You reached up and pushed back the hood with both hands and Kol gave you a thankful smile. You nodded slightly and used a finger to spin the envelope. You pushed it towards Melli and she took it with greedy fingers.

“They’re demanding a meet at the Exchange.” She read, her eyes moving along the words, paper gripping in both hands. “Three days from deliverance of the letter, but there’s no exact date. Otherwise they’ll protest the sale of the gambling den.”

“Of course.” You sighed. “It’s my understanding the Wraith delivered it last night, meaning today is one day since.”

“So the night after tomorrow.”

“Hand it here.” You held a hand out and Melli handed you the note. You read it over, noting the specifics of his wording. “He’s calling for me to show up…”

“You as in Davina or you as in the Hood?”

“It says ‘The Snake’ so I’m guessing Davina.” You tossed the paper to your desk and ran a hand down your face. “Kol, how well can you Tailor?”

“Small changes, usually last a few hours.” He gave a small, almost apologetic shrug.

“Good enough.”

“What are you thinking?” Melli chimed in.

“It calls for me, but it doesn’t say to come as I am.” You smiled slightly. “Kol, you’ll Tailor me to look more like my father, as close a resemblance as you can.”

“I’ve never seen your father.” He shook his head.

“I have a family miniature around here somewhere.” You waved a hand. “Melli? Would you be willing to be Tailored to look closer to me as I am now?”

“To be the Hood.” She understood, though she paled at the idea. “Wouldn’t you want your cloak? As protection?”

“I have the other armor. I won’t make you do this if you don’t want to.”

“I just worry that Brekker will know.” She reached for the cuff of her long sleeve before freezing and folding her hands neatly behind her back. “He may not believe the illusion.”

“He has no proof to make any accusations. And I’ve already given you my word, Melli. I won’t let him harm you.” You hoped honesty came across in your expression. “Besides, an untrained Heartrender may be just as dangerous as a trained one.”

Kol stood a little straighter. “I’ll protect you both as best I can.”

“As kind as that is, let’s hope we won’t need it. I believe there’s no weapons in the courtyard, so that may deter any idiotic ambushes.”

“Didn’t you say the cane was what gave you that scar? If he brings that, he has a weapon.” Melli argued.

“Yes.” You answered carefully. “But I can try to hide a blade or two. Worst case scenario, I’m caught and Stadwatch takes them.”

“Very confidence inspiring, thank you.” Melli grumbled.

“You can tell me no. I won’t be offended.”

“Can I think on it?”

“Of course. Let me know the morning of… And do we still have the paperwork to rename the den?”

“Yes, in my room.” She nodded.

“I don’t think we’ll name it Sixth Sense. It’s too niche.”

“What then?”

“Poisoned Rook.” You shrugged.

“A rook is a crow.” Kol commented.

“Exactly.” You smiled. “If it’s in Dreg territory, why not make it a jab at them?”

“I like it but wouldn’t it anger them?” Melli asked.

“Very likely, but that’s the point. Mel. And we’ll commission someone to design a crow being caught by a snake, maybe even bitten by the snake.”

You noticed their concerned expressions.

“This summons is a show of force, an attempt to bully us. They have us outnumbered and they know it.” You explained. “But I am my father’s daughter and if it means anything, it means that I will not be pushed around by Kaz Brekker.”

“I like that fire in your eyes.” Kol said with a mischievous smile of his own.

The days came and went and you were seated in your office while Kol did his work. Your scalp tingled as the color of your hair changed and it bunched itself into tighter curls. You saw from your peripherals the dark, shadowed red turning to a burnt copper color, as if it was mixing your mother’s and father’s color. His fingers brushed your cheeks and bridge of your nose to adorn scattered freckles. He adjusted your brows and lashes to match in hair color and he even shifted your eye color. Small changes to your face shape, rounded cheeks like your childhood and a different curve of your lips.

You almost didn’t recognize yourself when you caught your reflection.

“Kaelish features in all their glory.” You rolled your eyes, fitting your protective vest into place. “Do you want to change anything on yourself?”

“No.” He shook his head, a confident look in his eyes.

“Alright.” You nodded. “Melli will be seeing to the name change paperwork so without her, they’re likely to ask about the Hood. Do not answer them, for anything really. I’m not sure who Brekker will bring, so be ready for anything.”

He nodded and you two were on your way. You made it to the Exchange at about the same time Kaz did. The posted Stadwatch nodded you through after a brief glimpse over your persons.

He didn’t find the retractable blade cuffed around your wrist or the thinner knife stashed in your boot.

You wore no mask, deciding your Tailored features were enough. You cleared your throat and dawned your best Kaelish accent.

“Pleasure to see you boys.” You nodded to them, noticing only Kaz and Jesper showed up. “What, no Wraith tonight? Or is she watching from above?” You glanced to the rooftops, Kol kept his eyes trained on Kaz.

“No need.” Kaz said simply, though there was a slightly puzzled look in his eyes.

“Don’t tell me I’m not worth the trouble anymore.”

“This is a friendly chat after all, Davina. Besides, you don’t have your Hood.”

“Forgive me, but you seem different.” Jesper cut in, eyeing your red hair carefully. “I swear on all the Saints your hair was darker.”

“Bit of Tailoring is all.” You shrugged. “It’s not as if my father isn’t recognizable and I’m trying to build something to take him down. I can’t exactly do that if I’m his spitting image, can I?”

“So you’re Tailored now or you were before?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kol bit out.

“Now, now.” Kaz clicked his tongue in disappointment and you noticed he sported a plain walking stick instead of the crow-topped cane he usually used. “You may want to keep your little guard dog on a tighter leash.”

“I suggest you try not to piss him off then.” You countered smoothly. “He bears no Snake.”

“He stands at your side, doesn’t he?”

“What business, Brekker? You leave a note like a spook and then dance around your demands.” You pressed. “You let your friend do all the talking for you?”

Kaz took a step forward and you did the same. Jesper hesitantly reached for his friend before he thought better of it. Kol didn't move.

“I could say the same for you, Snake.” Kaz answered. His eyes flicked across your face and you saw him examining the new features you sported. He made a face when he got the freckles.

“What. Business.” You repeated, adding more force to your words.

“The gambling den you’ve acquired is in Dreg territory.” He began, tapping his stick with his words like a metronome keeping beat. “Before, Haskell let it go because Rollins was the owner.”

“Yes, dear old Dad was very proud of the ‘thorn in Haskell’s side’ that the place was.”

“Ten percent a week.” Kaz said flatly, all business at that moment.

“If Haskell wants money he could’ve bought it out sooner. What’s the real point of this attempted tax?”

“Profit.”

“Papa said the place was a pisspot, hardly any profit to be made.”

“Why’d you buy it then?”

“To piss you off, clearly.” You smiled. “And a jab at Rollins. Six percent a week or ten percent a fortnight.”

“We aren’t here to barter, Dear.” Kaz shook his head. “Ten a week.”

You itched to flick out the blade but you held back.

“The Kerch love to barter.” You said instead and gestured to the large building of the Exchange behind you. “Their patron is all about profit and you’re no better. I see your game.”

“Do you?”

“You want to try to drain my coffers so we’ll need to come to you for aid.” You scoffed. “Eight a week.”

“Ten.”

“No.”

You saw the flash of Jesper’s pistol handles at his hips.

“As I said last time.” You spoke to Jesper over Kaz’s shoulder. “Never unarmed are we, Fahey?”

He grinned, fingers grazing his pistols affectionately, before you turned back to Kaz.

“You want to catch us in some short-sticked deal that gives you power over us.” You said simply. “I may not have the numbers of the Dregs or your experience, Dirtyhands, but I’ve watched my father enough to know better. Ten every fortnight.”

“Fifteen a fortnight.”

“All of the Saint’s.” You groaned and ran a hand down your face. “What will you offer us in return? You’re biding time, for either some dramatic reveal or some alleged last chance offer to force my hand. What is it?”

You felt the back of Kol’s hand tap yours, an unspoken question that you ignored.

“Your lives.” Kaz shrugged.

“You can’t kill us here.”

“That won’t stop us as soon as you step out the Exchange.”

“Kaz.” Jesper tried but Kaz held up a gloved hand. “This wasn't the plan.”

“I think it was.” Kol spoke firmly. “Dirtyhands doesn’t offer fair deals.”

“He’s a quick study, isn’t he?” Kaz spoke with faux admiration and you gave him a sarcastic expression. “Tell me. How goes it with Nina, hmm?”

“She’s a very lovely woman.” Kol gave a small bow. “I enjoyed our time.”

“Leave him be.” You cut in with a raised hand of your own. “We came here to make a deal, Brekker, so let’s make it. Tell me what you really want from me and my snakes, then I’ll consider what percentage of the Rook’s profit you can hold.”

“The Rook?” Jesper asked, ignoring the look Kaz gave him.

“Well, the Poisoned Rook to be exact.” You smiled and Kaz’s glare turned to you. “An omen of a bird to some, but it’s simply homage to the gang that lets us make a nice little den there. And the poison is, of course, a snake bite.”

“Clever.” Jesper nodded, his weight shifting between feet as his finger drummed the handles of his pistols. “But not very nice.”

“Or smart.” Kaz bit out.

“You know what they say, worthless parents makes stupid kids.” You shrugged and flicked your hair over shoulder but you couldn’t ignore the way the tension had risen in the square.

You were suddenly highly aware of Kaz’s body language. His shoulders were set, head high and challenging. Both hands rested atop the cane, fingers twitching and tapping. You liked that you were grating his nerves, wearing him down to something, but you didn’t know if you really wanted to see what that something was.

Kol was a solid presence beside you. He was less than a step behind you and his arm brushed yours. There was a jittery feeling from him, as if his powers were crawling to the surface with a demand to be released. To be released at your command.

“I’d like to reach a deal tonight, Brekker.” You gave a small nod. “We all know you are a man that can make life very easy or very difficult in the Barrel. My father can attest to that, I assume?”

He said nothing, only raised a dark brow. You inched forward, leaning in slightly so only he heard your next words.

“You think I don’t remember what he did.” You spoke lowly. “But I do. You think I hate him for the fun of it? He took your brother from you but he took you both from me.”

“Did you even notice?” He asked in the same hushed tone but there was a sadness laced into his words. “When we were left to die.”

Your eyes found the chain around his neck. Trailing your  gaze asking the length of it, you saw your ring neatly tucked away. “A story for another day.”

You leaned away and took a half step back, just to be able to look him in the eyes.

“Twelve percent every fortnight.” You offered, holding a hand out for him to shake.

“Thirteen.” He countered.

You sighed slightly, knowing there wasn’t much else you could do. You could sit there and go back and forth with Kaz all night over single percentages, having Kol and Jesper sitting at the ready in case either of you got too testy, but it wouldn’t be worth anything. You glanced over your shoulder at Kol but he simply shook his head, not looking at you. You didn’t need him to speak for you to know what he was trying to tell you.

Do not give in to Kaz Brekker. Not now, not ever.

“I…” You trailed off, looking back to Kaz. “You’ve backed me into a corner.”

You folded your arms over your chest, feeling the hard material of your hidden weaponry at your wrist.

“So it seems.” Kaz said, sounding bored.

“But you also have some leverage you haven’t used.” You realized, eyes catching on the silver chain around his neck. “It makes me wonder what else you’re hiding.”

He offered you a slight smirk. “I assure you, Davina, that I have no tricks here tonight.”

“Tonight.” Kol repeated.

“I agree.” You pointed in Kol’s direction for a moment. “What’s to keep your tricks away after tonight?”

“Trust.” Kaz shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.

“Listen, Davina.” Jesper said, taking a step closer. “Can I call you that?”

“What else would you call me?” You asked plainly, head tilting slightly.

“Right.” He grinned. “Kaz may be a cheat and a liar and a con and a-”

“Yes, he’s a sparkling personality.” You cut in gently. “Is this intended to inspire confidence?”

“I agree with Vi-” Kaz began before he sharply cut himself off. “Davina.”

Jesper gave him a questioning look, and you assumed Kol did the same, but all you could do was smirk. The Zemeni boy shook away whatever he was thinking and turned back to you.

“My point is that while Kaz is every terrible thing you’ve heard about him, he is still a man of his word. If you two manage to strike a deal, he’ll honor it.” He nodded firmly, wholeheartedly believing in Kaz.

“I admire your trust in your leader.” Kol offered and you felt his hand press lightly against the small of your back. “But will the rest of the Dregs? Will the Wraith?”

The action caught Kaz’s attention and he narrowed his eyes in Kol’s direction. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a new fire ignite in his stare, jaw clenching and his chin raising in a silent challenge.

Interesting.

“Kaz?” You said, drawing his focus back to you. The anger in his eyes seemed to soften and you stared in quiet suspicion for a moment. You let the idea leave you and redirected your thoughts to the deal at hand. “I know you understand that I need this deal to beneficial to me and my snakes in some way. What can you truly offer?”

Before Kaz could answer, a new voice cut through from the far end of the Exchange and you all turned towards it.

“Well, isn’t this a sight?” He announced and the sound of his voice reminded you of the way his bullet tore through your shoulder.

You growled quietly and flicked your hand, the blade shooting free at your wrist. Kol came around you to be one step in front of you. Jesper had drew a pistol in a move so fast you didn’t see it, just the light gleaming off the carefully polished weapons.

You had to admit, they were a beautiful piece of craftsmanship.

Jesper caught you admiring his weapons and he shot you a wink.

You all seemed to ready yourselves for a fight, everyone but Kaz.

“Tell me you didn’t.” You tried, hating the desperation in your voice but unable to keep it out. “Kaz, please.”

“Only the previous owners can protest a sale.” He explained and your heart sunk. Any hopes of a true deal that night were squandered almost immediately. “Given your father was the majority owner, it was quite simple really.”

“Bastard.” You hissed and turned back to your father’s approaching figure. He seemed to have come alone, but you didn’t trust he didn’t have Lions in the shadows.

“Hello, daughter.” He smiled and you sneered slightly. “You seem different.”

“I grew into those Kaelish features, just like you said I would.” You spat and his movements stopped as he reached you two.

“And the boy with his hands up must be the one who made you look the way you had when we first met.” He nodded and you hated the way he spoke about Kol. “He almost had me convinced. You looked so much like your mother.”

“Yet you were still able to shoot me. You would’ve killed me.”

“So you come running to this wretched urchin?” He laughed. “Little Boy Brekker can’t protect you, Davi.”

“I don’t need his protection.” You shoved past Kol, your blade glittering in the pale moonlight. Shining, like something divine from your wrist. “I put my own knife in you, without help from a Corporalnik or Brekker or anyone.”

“Which reminds me.”

He threw your blade at your feet and you slammed you foot down on it.

“Consider it a peace offering.” Your father shrugged. “Took four sessions with a Healer to truly mend that wound so I tip my hat to you.”

“Peace?” You laughed. “There is no peace with you, Father. The only peace is death.”

You looked to Kaz and he was already studying you. The thought that this was all for him to learn something about you, that you were simply an investment or entertainment, made yout stomach turn.

You wanted to scream at him, to curse him and threaten him and beat him bloody. But you did none of those things. You did nothing because it wasn’t his fault you felt betrayed. He had called your father to protest, but he had never said anything towards your side. He never claimed he would be your ally, your friend, or anything other than a problem. You had convinced yourself that there was potential in your allegiance, that the ways he looked at you or the way he spoke had meant something more was at least possible if not likely.

Your endless fawning is going to get you killed.

Maybe Melli was right. Maybe Kaz had managed to con you to your own execution.

But you weren’t going to be the one to tell her that.

“Fine.” You huffed. You tucked the blade, slid the cuff off, and handed it to Kol. Kneeling down, you reached for your other blade. It had been cleaned of your father’s blood.

Kol was kneeling beside you, reaching for your hands. You pushed the handle into his grip instead.

“What are you doing?” He asked quietly. You peaked up and saw Jesper speaking to Kaz in the same low tone. You couldn’t hear what the boys were saying, but Kaz’s watchful gaze was flicking between you and presumably your father. “Davina?”

“I won’t risk you or Fahey for whatever scheme Brekker’s lured us into.” You shook your head. “Take those back to Melli, tell her what’s happened. She knows what to do.”

“You can’t mean that.” His eyes were wide and pleading.

“I do… Stay with her as if she were me. And tell her she was right. I shouldn’t have put so much faith into Kaz.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving, but I… I can’t let you do this.”

You felt your pulse flutter, carefully slowing. You blinked in surprise and then reached out to shove Kol to the ground. The quick motion broke his focus and your heart beat normally in your chest. You stood tall, feeling the other blade settle in your boot, and glared at Kaz for a moment.

“Kaz, may I employ your sharpshooter for a favor?” You asked tightly.

“Employment requires you to pay him.” He answered carefully.

You scoffed and reached into your boot. You pulled the blade out and tucked it into a sheath along your vest before pulling three folded bills. You held it between two fingers and raised your brows expectantly.

“His decision then.” Kaz gestured to Jesper.

“All I ask is you walk my friend out the courtyard.” You said.

“What? Davina, I-“ Kol tried.

“He will not raise a hand or his powers towards you because that may be considered cause for war between Snakes and Dregs.” You said pointedly to Kol before returning focus to Jesper. “You’ll be safe as a baby swaddled in their mother’s arms. He just needs to leave and then you can do whatever it is you planned.”

You held the money out to him and he looked to Kaz in hesitation. Kaz shrugged so Jesper reached for the money. You handed it over without a word and he led Kol away. The Heartrender looked over his shoulder once and you waved him away.

You turned your glare back to Kaz/

“And how does this end now? A three way deal where you still end up taking majority.” You snapped as you began crossing the grounds to stand across from your father. Kaz was keeping stride beside you and the urge to kick his cane out from under him had never been stronger.

“In all truth, Davina, I was hoping our deal would be done before it go to this.” He answered, but you no longer trusted anything he said.

“That’s why the Wraith isn’t here. She’s watching the bought Stadwatch.”

He said nothing as you approached your father.

“What business?” You said flatly to him and you felt Kaz stand closer to your side. You wanted to jerk away to ensure distance, but you didn’t want to give your father any ammunition against you.

You were on your own in that courtyard, but you didn’t need to advertise it.

“My gambling den.” He said simply. “I want it back.”

“No.” You shrugged. “Make me an offer and I’ll consider selling you a few shares.”

“I am majority owner of that place, Davina. You cannot take it from me.” “You were the majority owner but you signed it away.” You shrugged. “If you go to the Exchange in the morning and request to see the paperwork, you’ll find your signature. Nice and neat, with just enough flourish to roll your eyes at.”

He scoffed. “I never would’ve sold it to the likes of you.”

“And yet you did… That’s what the paperwork claims, at least.”

“Forgery.” He realized. “You wretched little girl.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “I learned it from my father.”

His hand raised and you shifted your feet, widening your stance to take the hit. His fist slammed your jaw, head jerking to the side as you stumbled slightly. You laughed to yourself as you faced him again and a horrified silence fell over the Exchange.

“How much did it cost you, hmm?” You wiped your thumb along your bottom lip and it came back wet, a small collection of blood from where your lip split. “To buy off the Stadwatch.”

“I’d pay it again in a heartbeat.” He practically snarled.

“Come on then.” You taunted. “Get your money’s worth.”

His fist collided with your stomach and you doubled over. You reached for your sheathed blade but both of his fists slammed against your spine and you dropped to the floor, the knife clattering to the ground. You scrambled for it but his boot came against your side.

One. Two. Three. Four. Hard kicks hitting your stomach, stealing the air from your lungs, feeling as if they were bruising your organs, threatening to crack your rib. You found your blade and threw yourself on your back, propping up on your elbows, and crawled backwards. You were desperate for space to get to your feet despite every breath you took feeling as if you had no room in your chest for your lungs anymore.

You saw the bottom of his boot aiming for your head so you rolled out of the way. Your other hand shot out and gripped his pant leg before you gave a hard yank. He hit the floor with a satisfying thump. Once you cleared your father’s reach, you felt two hands under your arms hauling you to your feet. Turning your head, you saw gloved hands on you and you jerked out of Kaz’s grip.

“Touch me again and I will-” You tried to threaten when a shot cut through the courtyard.

The bullet landed in the cobblestones a few inches from where you stood. If you had still been on the ground, the bullet would’ve ripped through your body. You spun towards where the bullet came from and you saw a blur of a small figure darting along the roofline.

Inej wasn’t trying to save you, but Kaz made sure he did.

“My thanks to your Spider.” You muttered to Kaz, empty hand reaching to hold your pained stomach. “We won’t reach a deal while he’s here.” You gestured to your father with your knife, who was getting to his feet.

“So it seems.” Kaz said thoughtfully, scanning your figure quickly. You saw his gaze catch on your midsection.

“You had to have seen this coming.” You reasoned. “He shot me last time I spoke to him.”

“His mistake.” He shook his head. “You’re stronger than he gives you credit for. There are as many tales of you as there are me. He’d do well to learn them.”

“They’re tales, Brekker. They don’t mean anything.”

“There’s enough truth in all of them.”

“Right, well, that doesn’t answer how we get out of this.”

He offered you a smirk and your brows furrowed. He raised his cane and after a moment, the Exchange’s courtyard erupted into a flurry of bright lights. Some were colored, others dazzling. You stared in awe, though you had to squint through the sudden luminance. There was a fine powder coming from some of the bursts but you didn’t have a chance to interact with it.

Kaz grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the scene, leaving your father covering his eyes and yelling to no one.