#would immediately have her respect and admiration

[therebecreatures]

I actually both really respect and admire Strauss as a character, and how the team as whole reacts to her. When we first see her, she is obviously the enemy. She's the eyes hovering over their shoulders while they work the case, and they're mean and resentful of her presence while waiting for word of Hotch and when/if he's coming back after he's suspended. But meanwhile Strauss is offering him a good job in white collar crime that while maybe not as fulfilling as the BAU is a good, local job that will get him home to his wife and baby at a reasonable time, pretty much every day. But the team is so codependant, so intertwined, and he couldn't leave them as much as they couldn't let him leave. All of them continuously asking each other if they have news, and Morgan calling over and over.

And again when Hotch is basically on trial following Foyet's death, when all of the team are separated and questioned, and all of them are angry, and defensive with her basically badgering them to say it was Hotch's fault, while they all go practically rabid to share the the blame, but then at the end it show's her questioning Hotch with a board of others, and after he gives his testimony, and assures that Foyet wouldn't have stopped without killing Jack, she doesn't question it further and says that's good enough for her and lays it to rest officially.

Then she goes to Hotch's personally and says she pulled some strings and got Hotch early retirement with really good benefits so he's taken care of and he can just focus on Jack and grieving, and she's genuinely trying to give him a good out and is surprised that he needs time to think about it when she thought it'd be a done deal.

And she's mad at JJ for not immediately jumping at the Pentagon, and at Hotch for not encouraging her to leave the team to go do it because its such a good career opportunity for JJ and she legitimately doesn't understand why JJ would pass it over.

Like she is trying to take care of them in her own way, and is essentially a wall between the higher ups and the team, but she's just higher up, just enough of an outsider, that she's always considered the enemy by the close knit team and its such a fascinating dynamic. And I'm not even touching on all of it

[silversiren1101]

💎💎💎 - for Mino from Hemlock!

[Thanks for the ask! - I did some extra research through your tags so hopefully I got it right!]

Minovae smiles, then looks a bit guilty as she answers. "I know her far less well than I'd like to, and that's a shame. Everything I've seen and learned of her tells me we're more alike than not." She lowers her voice, and looks around to see no one else within earshot. "Honestly, Hemlock is how people should be. She's the type of model, ideal character that the Orders would consider all the signs of a successful, lawful, healthy society. I still stand by my beliefs that the Orders strive towards obsolesce and we need to embrace it, and Hemlock gives me hope for that."

She waves her hands, tail rattling, acknowledging the awkwardness of that statement. "I know I shouldn't say such things! That people should be one way or another, but, truly, if there were more Hemlocks the world would be a much better place. An ounce of that sense of accountability and care for others spread across the people would disband us faster than anything." With a chuckle, she notes, "It's funny she has the name she does, honestly. Her and Camellia should swap."

An even grin and light in her eyes mellows as she sighs. "What more can I say? Her sense of duty is beyond reproach yet balanced with a kindness that keeps her from falling into the kind of zealotry that gives my fellow Hellknights a bad name. She has a good head on her shoulders and doesn't blindly follow written law for the sake of it. She's brave. She's funny. She knows how to have a good time and can spread a smile like an infection! Even Regill thinks nothing but highly of her, and that says a lot."

A tense moment of silence passes. "Honestly... I'm a little jealous of her. She makes it seem so easy... I know that's probably not the truth. That she probably struggles as much as I do, duty and kindness, justice and mercy, reason and decisiveness... Balancing it all without losing yourself... But damn does it make me second guess myself sometimes, that maybe I'm not so naturally as good a person as I think I am if it's so hard sometimes. She seems so sure of herself and I always feel just about to drown..."

She shakes her head. "Don't tell her I said that. She's a beacon of hope for damn near everyone and I wouldn't dare compromise that just because of my own self doubts, you hear?! Ugh... I really should just, go talk to her more. Maybe it'll rub off on me in turn. Would the dog be a good in? I do love animals..."

[its44intheehouse]

pairing: lewis hamilton x Wolff!fem!reader

author’s note: GOD this might be awful but please keep in mind that it’s my first story and english is not my first language :) WILL most probably go through major adjustments.

summary: in which her father, Toto Wolff, has always told her to stay away from the young drivers. He never said anything about the older ones though…

warnings: 18+ smut/nsfw, masturbation(f), oral sex(f receiving), fingering, cursing, size kink, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, age-gap, praise kink, bit of choking.

Being the daughter of a Formula 1 Team Principal never failed to be exciting.

Always VIP treatment, lots of traveling to beautiful countries, numerous job opportunities and getting to meet famous people. You were always grateful for your privileged life but never took advantage of it in a selfish way, although you enjoyed the things it had to offer from time to time. You always refused being treated differently just because of your status. You just weren’t that type of person. You liked working for the things you desired. Your adventurous side always loved a challenge, and that was also the thing your father admired and feared the most about you.

He always encouraged this side of you, ever since you were a kid. If you wanted to learn how to skate, he’d buy you a skateboard. If you spontaneously wanted to spend the next 3 months away from home in another country, he’d book your flight. One day you showed up at his office to show him your first tattoo. You always said you’d never get a tattoo, you didn’t think it would look good on you. But one day you randomly found yourself in front of a tattoo salon and couldn’t resist the curiosity. Your father was never a big fan of tattoos, but he laughed anyway, called you crazy and snapped a few pictures of the tattoo before sending them to your mom.

Toto didn’t have a lot of rules for you. He always told you “Just don’t get yourself in jail, maybe.”. But the most important and unwritten rule was “never involve yourself with the young drivers.”.

He thought they were immature boys and walking red flags, although he deeply respected them for performing in such a dangerous sport as Formula 1. You, on the other hand were never interested in any of them anyway. You befriended a few of the drivers, sometimes partied with them, but no one really caught your interest. No one besides Lewis Hamilton.

Lewis was your father’s most prized possession in the team. 7 times World Champion (or 8 if you ask me), a genuine person, an expert in what he was doing and the best he could get.

Lewis Hamilton emanated power everywhere he went. He always took his work and image very seriously, always told it as it was and his charming personality never failed to impress everyone in the room. Even the drivers looked up to him, hoping to one day be as great as him. Your first encounter with him was when you were only 15 years old, and to say that you were immediately intimidated by him was an understatement.

The nervousness you constantly felt when you were around him was originally a reaction to all the things you heard about the driver. But as time passed, you found yourself intimidated for others reasons. Maybe it was because you were a teenager and your hormones were going crazy, or because of all the books and fanfiction you used to read at that time, but you couldn’t take your eyes away from him anymore. Everything about him drew you in. His tall and muscular body, his numerous tattoos that gave him a dangerous and playboy vibe, his soothing but rough voice adorned with the most beautiful british accent, his braided hair and smooth skin… That man was basically sex on legs. One of God’s finest pieces.

He instantly took a very protective role in your life. To him, you were basically a child, especially due to the big age-gap between you. But you were also his boss’s daughter so he naturally felt the need to protect you.

Now, at 23, you managed to keep a close friendship with the driver. He was always there if you needed advice for something, always there to rant to about your crazy life and always there for a good time. You spent a lot of vacations with him and his friends. Went to a lot of road trips, skateboard dates, dinner or breakfast dates, countless movie nights, sometimes just the two of you. And although your crush on him never went away, in fact the adoration and attraction only deepened, he not once tried anything with you. He always kept things friendly between you two, decent.

And it frustrated the shit out of you. Sometimes you would catch him staring at you, or even touching you for a minute longer, but never more than that. And you slowly began losing hope that one day he’d see you as more than a friend and his boss’s daughter.

————————————————————————

It’s Friday night. Since you didn’t have any plans for today and were bored out of your mind, you decided to call Lewis to ask if he would go out with you tonight. He apologized and told you that he wasn’t really feeling like doing anything crazy tonight, but insisted that you could come over and spend time together, maybe watch a movie or something. You accepted immediately.

So here you were now, 1AM in his living room, with your head on his lap and eyes closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep really, but your fucked up sleep schedule was beginning to take a toll on you, making you doze off at very random times. Plus, the way his hand was mindlessly running through your hair felt too good.

You slowly open your eyes when you feel Roscoe licking at your hand. With a groan, you try to sit up and take in everything that’s going on. How long have you been asleep for? “Suits” is still playing on the TV, the room is almost dark except for the light of the television, Roscoe is sitting by the couch, looking back at you with his tongue hanging out, and Lewis is on his phone, probably reading through his emails.

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He chuckled, locking his phone and throwing it on the couch.

“I’m so sorry, Lewis.” You sighed, rubbing your face with your hands in hope of getting rid of the sleepiness and the headache you just woke up with. “I didn’t mean to, lately I’ve been having trouble with sleep. Maybe it’s because of school, I don’t know. My schedule doesn’t really allow me a healthy bed time anymore.”

He looks worried as he reaches out to you, shaking your arm a little.

“You can sleep here if you want. It’s late, you’re obviously very tired. I don’t want you driving back home in this state.” He proposes.

“Yeah? I can?” You chuckle, placing your hand on his. Your stomach flutters when you feel his soft, warm skin.

He looks rather angelic in the low light. His eyes are shiny but tired, his lips look soft and juicy, and his body is comfortably spread on the sofa.

“You know you can, bunny.”

Bunny. He loves to call you that. Ever since you were a teenager, he’d always call you that. You found it cute.

“Okay, then. Can I borrow some clothes, though? These jeans aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world to be honest.” You say, getting up from the couch.

“Yeah, sure.”

You follow him to the guest room. The bed looks cozier than ever, and you quickly find yourself hopping into it, groaning at the feeling of the comfortable and soft mattress. Lewis laughs and leaves you for a moment, but comes back a few seconds later, throwing some clothes on the bed beside you.

“Got you a shirt and some pants. But I’m not sure the pants are gonna fit though. You’re… a lot smaller than me for sure.” He spoke, crossing his arms to his chest. “Sorry.”

“No, Lewis. It’s all good.” You giggle, waving your arm lazily. “Thank you.”

You take a moment to look at him again. He has a soft smile on his face and his body is leaning against the door frame, the dim light in the room accentuating the muscles in his arms. He looked huge. And delicious.

Jesus.

“Good night.” He gently whispered. You say it back and then he finally leaves the room, leaving you all alone. And frustrated.

With a deep sigh, you grab the clothes he gave you and inspect them a little. A simple tie dye t-shirt(he loves these), and a pair of shorts, probably the smalest he had in his wardrobe. And they still looked big. Making a decision, you throw the pants on a chair and only keep the t-shirt, then start to change out of your clothes.

Once that was done, you floop back on the bed and check your phone real quick, before turning off the lights and pulling the blanket over your body.

————————————————————————-

You woke up sweaty. With a groan, you quickly pull the covers off your hot body to try and get some air. Your hair is sticking to your forehead and the massive headache you just woke up with already makes you irritated.

Stretching your body a little, you reach for the phone sitting on the nightstand to check the time. 4AM.

“God dammit.” You curse under your breath, rubbing your face with your palm.

You could feel the faint smell of Lewis’s cologne on the t-shirt he gave you. Le Labo’s Rose 31, his favorite. Biting your lip, you bring the material to your nose and inhale the scent. A moan almost escaped you. You could basically feel him, it was like he was in the room with you again. And that definitely didn’t help your current state.

You start wondering what he might be doing right now. He’s probably sound asleep, spread on his king sized bed with nothing but his boxers on, quietly snoring, like he always does. You wish you were there to see him. Admire him. Touch his skin.

Subconsciously, you let your hand travel down your chest and under the shirt, touching at your hot skin. A shiver hits you, and you curiously start to feel around your stomach with your fingers. With eyes closed, you imagine Lewis touching you like that.

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about him like that. But in your defense, you just couldn’t help it. Everything about him felt masculine. His energy, his body, his voice, his gestures. He was basically the man you always dreamed of having, even for one night. You always wondered what he would be like in bed.

Maybe he’d whisper softly in your ear, call you “sweetheart”, take his time on making you feel good, praising you for how good you are for him. How good you take him. Or maybe, he’d manhandle you, make you do whatever he asks, put you in any position he wants while choking you with his big arms and mockingly slapping your face, degrading you for being such a whore, as his cock would slide in and out of you at an abusive pace, making your juices drip out of you with every deep, harsh thrust.

You don’t even remember the exact moment your fingers started rubbing your clit through your panties. You were definitely soaked, the wetness making a faint noise everytime your middle finger would flick at your pussy down to your enterance. A needy whimper escapes you. You needed more.

With the other hand, you quickly grab at your boobs, softly massaging them one by one and pulling on your sensitive nipples. It was all too much but still not enough. The material of your panties was drenched at this point, so you quickly moved them aside.

Circling your awaiting hole a few times, you insert a finger inside slowly.

“Mm, fuck.” You moan, hiding your face into the pillow so you could hopefully hide the sounds you were making.

You imagined Lewis doing this to you. Sitting between your thighs so he can have a clear image of your creamy pussy as he is pumping his fingers in and out of you. He’d have his mouth on you from time to time, sucking your clit harshly and moving his tongue from one hole to the other. His deep brown eyes would never leave your figure, trying to take in every single inch of you and memorize it, so he can always remember how desperate and ruined he makes you.

“Such a pretty pussy. U’re doing so good for me.” He’d praise.

The squelching sound of your cunt momentarily takes you off the trance. Your hand is wet and you’re working one more finger inside of you now, as your other hand desperately rubs at your sensitive button. You can’t believe you’re doing this in Lewis’s house, especially when his room is so close to yours, but you shamelessly don’t care enough about that right now, not when you’re so close to your orgasm.

“Mphh, Lewis…” You cry out, eyes shut.

As your back arches off the mattress, you start scissoring the fingers inside your pussy faster. You gasp for air as your legs begin to shake violently, your swollen clit throbbing uncontrollably. You moan louder than expected as you come all over your fingers, and the thought of Lewis hearing your needy sounds almost excites you more.

After a few moments, you remove the fingers from your pussy. You needed a shower so bad, maybe it would wash away the shame you were feeling at the pit of your stomach. Were you too loud? Did he hear how pathetic you’ve been, just from his scent and a few scenarios of him fucking you with his mouth and fingers?

Sitting up, you scrunch your face in disgust at the feeling of your drenched and cold underwear. You curse in your head for not taking them off early on. What the fuck were you supposed to wear now?

Deciding to swallow your shame, you finally get up from the bed to make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your room. After washing your hands twice with the expensive soap bar, you look into the mirror to see just how messy you really were. Your cheeks were flushed, your mascara was smudged, skin was glowy with sweat and your hair looked like a bird nest. Basically, it was as if you had just taken part in a gangbang.

With a sigh, you take off your panties and run them through the water, trying to wash away the sin you had just committed. Getting lost in thoughts, your stomach almost startles you as it begins to growl loudly. The little amount of energy you had left and now you felt hungry, and incredibly thirsty. Balancing your options, you wonder if you should leave the room to go get something to eat from the kitchen. Your panties were still wet and you couldn’t imagine wearing them now, but you knew you’d never be able to fall asleep again if your stomach constantly demanded food. Plus, drinking tap water was never an option.

“Fuck.”

Slipping your underwear back on, you inspect yourself in the mirror a little and pull on Lewis’s t-shirt, making sure that it covers enough, just in case.

The whole penthouse is silent as you walk to the kitchen. A few lights are still on, but that’s just how Lewis prefers it. You assume Roscoe is in his room fast asleep as well, because you don’t run into him on your way. Opening the fridge, you immediately grab a bottle of water and place it on the counter, before scanning for some food. The indian takeout boxes were really calling your name right now, so you grabbed two of them before closing the door with your foot.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You almost drop the boxes from your hands when you hear his voice. Turning around, you find him staring at you, with a little smirk on his face.

“You almost shit your pants, bunny. Did I scare you?” He laughs, approaching you.

“Jesus, Hamilton. Almost gave me a heart attack, could’ve died right here on your kitchen floor.” You exhaled, dropping the boxes on the table and placing a hand on your chest, trying to see if your heart was still beating.

“I’m sorry. Won’t do it again.” He chuckles and briefly massages your shoulders, before pushing past you to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. After he takes a few sips, he speaks again. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” You bite back, drinking from your own water, almost gulping down the whole thing.

The thought of what you just did a few moments ago creeps into your head again, and you suddenly wish the ground would swallow you. What if he heard? You get self conscious remembering that you’re only wearing his shirt and your destroyed pair of panties that were still wet and uncomfortable, so you pull on the hem to hopefully try and cover yourself as much as possible.

His top lip twitches for a second, then he smiles and shrugs. “Was thirsty.”

He looked absolutely delicious now, with nothing on but a pair of grey shorts and his braids down. His abs were shining underneath the dim lights, and all you wanted right now really was to drop down on your knees and lick them. You couldn’t look further down though, you feared you might pass out if you saw the imprint of his dick in his pants.

You had the opportunity to take a peek, though. Multiple times. Especially on race weekends, when he would just grab his dick in his hand and struggle to readjust himself through the racing suit before hopping in the car. You knew he was big. You fantasized about how he would feel on your tongue, heavy and large. About how he would fuck your throat rough, making you choke on his cock. About how he would hardly be able to slide into your tight, warm pussy, but when he would finally make it, he’d rip you apart with it until you were left a crying, overstimulated mess.

“Why are you so red, bunny? Are you ill?” He asks, furrowing his brows.

When you finally snap out of your filthy thoughts, he’s already in front of you, checking your temperature with the back of his hand, looking concerned.

“N-no.” You almost sound unsure, your voice cracking a little.

“No?” He shakes his head, cupping your flushed cheeks in his hands.

You couldn’t make eye contact with him, even though you knew he was intently watching you. He was so close that there was almost no space to breathe anymore, and you couldn’t take it, so you hesitantly backed off.

A cheeky smirk was plastered on his face though, and he quickly looked you up and down before grabbing a fork and digging into the food left on the table. You just stood there, petrified. No thoughts behind your eyes.

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” He spoke again.

Well, the hunger disappeared, that’s for sure.

You shake your head then clear your throat. “Not hungry anymore. I think I’ll just go back to bed.”

“Hm.”

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you grab the bottle of water and make your way past him, whispering a “good night” softly. After a few seconds, he speaks again.

“Maybe this time you’ll be able to get some sleep instead of moaning my name while you’re touching yourself.”

Your stomach drops. Maybe you’re imagining things. Maybe you’ve gone crazy. But there’s no way this was happening right now. This can’t be real.

You’re stuck in your place for a few moments, calculating your possibilities of escape. Throwing yourself out the window sounds like a good idea now. But you feel cornered, and you can’t think of what to do or say. You were doomed, for sure. But you choose to play dumb instead, so you anxiously turn to him and speak.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

He says nothing, and that worries you even more.

Then he throws the fork in the sink and finally faces you. He lifts his eyebrows and leans on the counter, with his arms folded to his chest.

“No, you weren’t.” He spoke. “Come here.” He gestures with his hand.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you decide to listen to him and get closer.

“Please don’t tell dad.” You beg. There was no point in denying anymore. He knew.

He chuckles then, and furrows his brows, looking at you funny. God, you just wish all this would be over already. It felt humiliating.

“You think I’d tell Toto about how his daughter is pleasuring herself to the thought of me?”

His words come out as a whisper as he carefully moves a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know…”

“What were you thinking about?”

You finally get the courage to look into his eyes then. You’re not sure you heard him right.

“What?”

“I think you heard me just right, princess. What were you thinking about when you had these pretty fingers deep inside your pussy?” He asks, lifting your hand and pressing a few kisses to your fingers.

A whine almost escapes your mouth while you’re watching it happen. You’ve never heard Lewis talk like that, especially towards you, and it both sexually frustrated you as well as made you impossibly shy. A deep shade of red is present on your face and you seriously don’t know if you should just risk it all and tell him about your little fantasies or act dumb about it.

“Y/n”

You snap out of it. “I-I don’t know what to say, Lewis. This is so humiliating.” You sigh deeply, covering your face with your hands.

“Hey, hey.” He shushed you, pulling you into his arms. He smelled so good, and his skin felt hot pressed against yours, even with the t-shirt you were wearing as a barrier. “No need for that, bunny. It’s just me.” His words come out as a whisper as he is moving his hand up and down your back. “…Just us.”

Lifting your head slowly, you look into his eyes and bite your lip. This was all you ever wanted. For him to want you back. And now that he finally hinted that he might be into you in that way, had you at a loss of words and action.

Fuck it, you thought. It’s been too long. Too much time spent on secretive glances, crushing, overthinking, masturbating to the thought of him. Maybe you could finally get something out if it.

“I was thinking of you… Touching me.”

“Good girl. How was I touching you, hm?” The praise goes straight to your core as his head falls to your neck to press a few wet kisses, and you swore you could die right there on the spot. His hands squeeze your waist a little before traveling down to your ass, massaging patiently, waiting for you to respond to his question.

You moan at the action, getting lost in the feeling of him touching you like that. In a second, he lifts you up by your thighs and you unconsciously wrap your legs around his waist. He sits you on the counter then positions himself between your bare legs. His warm hands touch the insides of your thighs, making your breath hitch. You still can’t believe this is happening.

“You look so good in my clothes…” He mumbles, lifting one of his hands to your shirt and squeezing your skin a little. When he reaches your breasts, he squeezes harder.

“Mm… Lewis…” You whine pathetically, waiting for more.

“That’s what you were moaning a few minutes ago, baby?”

You look up to find him staring at you intently with his teeth pulling at his lower lip. His eyes were darker, full of lust. You enjoy having him like this, you realized. A man, the man you dreamed about, about to pleasure you.

“Yes.” You confess sincerely, batting your eyelashes at him.

“You’re such a naughty girl…” He whispers, touching your soft cheek with his finger.

His other hand starts wondering further underneath your shirt, and you find yourself opening your legs wider, waiting desperately for his touch. You can feel one of his fingers pressing against your clit only a few seconds later, and you can’t help but moan already. He rubs tight, circular circles on your sensitive button and groans, pushing your body back. You lean back and let him lift your legs on the counter.

“Shit, bunny. You look so delicious right now."

He reaches the band of your underwear and pulls on it urgently, leaving you bare in front of him. Normally you'd get self conscious everytime a man saw you naked, but for some reason that wasn't the case now. The desire to have Lewis eat you out was much bigger than any insecurity you may have. You grow impatient already just thinking about it and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing. He notices.

“I’m going to eat this pretty pussy.”

“Please.” You say immediately, eager to feel his tongue on your most sensitive spot.

He pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and gets on his knees, holding onto your shaky legs. You played this scenario in your head over and over again so many times, and you craved to see it finally happen. You really need to see him.

Standing up a little, you think you might just pass out. There he was, propped between your legs, licking a fat stripe of your pussy. He makes eye contact then and moans, connecting his lips to your puffy clit and sucking, hard.

Your body twitches on instinct and you whimper, pushing your needy pussy into his face. He moans and starts licking up and down your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you from time to time.

“Yes… Just like that.” You manage to say.

He’s hungrily lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten in days, collecting all your sweet essence with his eager mouth. You can’t help but yelp a little when you feel two of his thick, long fingers pushing inside your tight pussy. It stings a little, but he doesn’t let you adjust, instead he pushes them deeper and curls them, making your eyes roll and your jaw drop.

“Oh my god." You gasp, arching your back so hard that you think it might break in half. His mouth is still attached to your sensitive clit, pressing torturous licks on it.

He pulls away a little bit, looking at how his two fingers push in and out of you, all shiny with your juices. His darkened eyes were glued to your pussy, like he was hypnotized by the sight. And he was. Suddenly, his eyes snap to yours and you think you’d never seen something hotter in your entire life.

“Look at you, baby… Hear the sounds your pretty pussy is making for me? You’re so fucking wet.” He humms and gives your puffy clit a sharp slap, fucking his fingers faster inside you.

You scream his name, like you always dreamed of doing. You’re desperately trying to hump his hand to get more, already feeling the familiar tightness in your lower stomach building rapidly. He doesn’t like that, so he quickly pushes your hips down with his free hand, keeping you in place. You don’t get to protest, because then he curls his fingers right on your g-spot, having your body tense immediately. You’re almost breathless and trashing your tiny body on his counter, and when he gets his hand on you and starts to flick your clit with rapid movements, you know you’re done for.

“That’s it. Cum all over my fingers like a good girl.”

You don’t hear anything for a few seconds after that. Your ears are tingling, your toes are curling and your whole body is shaking violently. Your orgasm washes over you in an instant, your pussy clenching down on his two fingers.

While you’re busy trying to catch your breath, he doesn’t stop. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, a bit slower now, and he reattached his mouth to your pussy, licking it slowly.

Feeling overstimulated, you immediately jerk away from his touch, twitching uncontrollably.

“N-no… too much!” You whimper, pushing his head back.

“Mm.” He slowly removes his fingers, and you feel yourself clenching around nothing. He’s chasing a trail of cum that your pussy is pushing out with his tongue and moans. “Such a sweet pussy. Sweetest I’ve ever had.” He praises.

You don’t say anything. Mostly because you can’t. Your whole body feels like jelly, still shaky from the powerful orgasm you just had. But you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. No, he gets up and grabs your chin forcefully, smashing your lips together. You can taste yourself on his lips and it makes your head spin and your pussy leak. Again.

When he finally pulls away, he takes a moment to look at your fucked out expression and humms, licking his lip.

“Was it good, bunny?” A smirk creeps out on his face.

“Yes…” You reply, the shyness taking place in you again as you batt your eyelashes at him.

“Good…” He whispers softly, tugging slowly on your bottom lip. “God, I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

God, the things this man makes you feel. He just fucked you stupid with his mouth and fingers and now he wants to fuck your pussy? It had to be a dream.

You want to take advantage of this moment for as long as you can.

“Fuck me, Lewis. I want it.”

The way you just look up at him so innocently but so seductive at the same time, with lips swollen, slightly messy hair and smudged mascara, makes his dick twitch. It isn’t the first time he’s rock hard for you though. No. You never knew this, but he had his eyes on you too. For the past few months, at race weekend, everytime he’d see you, you’d have him losing his mind. Walking around in short skirts and crop tops, or those lovely sundresses you adore so much. It made his dick throb, and he had to make up some excuses a few times just to run back to his driver’s room and touch himself. But he wasn’t only attracted to you because of those things. Your energy captivated him completely, and he knew he wasn’t the only one dreaming about having you. He wasn’t blind, nor stupid. He saw the way the other younger drivers or random people in the pit crew looked at you. How they smiled at you or tried to make you laugh, subtly touching you. It made him feral.

Toto was his boss. They go way back. Lewis admired your father, in many ways, and the bond they formed through working together was tight, for sure. He knew about the stupid rule he had for you, about dating or messing around with the drivers, and he respected that. Up until recently, when he started looking at you in a different light, and the rule suddenly frustrated him deeply. He never had a problem staying away from you. The need to protect you was the only thing on his mind. Then he started to finally see you.

How smart you were, how much joy you bring when you walk into a room. How everyone stops to look or listen to you when you talk. How adventurous you are and openly emotional without a care about what other people might think of you. The way you’re always there for people, the warmth you possess. Your unintentional seductiveness. Your charm.

Now, he had you exactly where he wanted. He wasn’t sure at first if he should tell you that he heard your sweet sounds when you masturbated to the thought of him, but he became desperate. All he needed was confirmation that you felt the same way about him as he felt about you. And he got it. He wasn’t gonna let you slip away this time. And he was done thinking about how complicated the situation is with your father.

Grabbing at your hand, he helps you get off the counter. You look at him confused, scared that he might realize that everything was a mistake and he’d changed his mind. But the thought quickly vanishes when he starts kissing your neck and nipping at your skin, lifting your shirt with his hands.

“I’m not gonna fuck you in a kitchen. My sweet baby deserves a bed, no?” His raspy voice sends goosebumps on your skin and you nod, letting him walk you backwards to his room, as he finally manages to get rid of the only material left on your body.

When you get to his room, he carefully pushes you on the bed, with him on top. The cold air in the room hits your sensitive flesh and makes your nipples harden. Licking your lips, you raise your head from the soft pillow to look at him. His gaze is darkened and his bottom lip sits between his teeth, pulling at it desperately, like he was trying so hard to keep his control. You wanted him to lose it. All of it.

“Please, Lewis… Fuck me. Wanted this for so long.” A whine escapes your lips and you pout, caging his body between your legs as your legs wrap tightly around his torso.

Your confession made him groan. He wanted to keep this moment in his memory forever. How needy you are begging for him to fuck you, how pretty you looked all spread out on his bed, with your hair tousled on his pillow, your lips puffy from his kisses and your eyes glossy and dazed.

Finally, he gets rid of the shorts he was wearing, pulling them off along with his boxers. You're left speechless as you shamelessly stare at his very erect cock. It's thick and you can spot a few angry veins almost popping, running up towards the head. It's standing proud and tall glued to his pelvis, almost reaching his belly button, and it has your mouth water.

He notices how you stare at him with your cheeks flushed and your lip between your teeth and smirks, tapping your thigh a few times to get your attention.

"What's wrong, baby?"

"It's so big..."

"Yeah? Never had a real man before, princess?" He asks, raising your leg to his shoulder and pressing soft kisses on your soft skin while maintaining eye contact with you.

You shake your head timidly.

"Gonna make you feel so good. You trust me?"

"Yes." You respond immediately, squirming under him.

"Just hold on for a sec. I gotta have some condoms in here." He lets go of your leg and leans towards his nightstand to search for the condoms.

"W-wait." You stopped him, pressing a hand to his chest. You were anxious when your next words left your lips. "I... I'm clean, and on birth control, so if you want, there's no need for that."

He turned his head to look at you and stopped in his tracks.

"Want me to fuck you bare, bunny?" He reached a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and looked at you lovingly, with a grin on his face.

"Mhm." You mumbled, nodding your head. "If that's okay with you, of course!" You rushed the words out.

"I'm more than okay with that." He hummed, caressing your hip with his thumb. "Come 'ere."

He pulled you lower on the bed and leaned forward, gripping your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours. He kisses you slow at first, taking his time to taste you. Then, as his hands start to explore your naked body, it turns wild. You feel dizzy as you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him even closer and your hot bodies stick to each other. It feels so intimate, you've never experienced something like this with someone before. His erection is standing right between your legs and it makes you raise your hips eagerly. You want him inside already.

"So eager." He whispers and smirks, pulling away a bit.

You glance down and lick your lips as he lines himself up, watching him tap your clit a few times with his cock, then pushing his head through your sensitive folds to collect all your juices. It sends jolts of electricity through your body and you whimper, spreading yourself a bit more. When he finally slides in, it's so overwhelming that you let your mouth hang open with a loud moan. The stretch is stinging a lot, but there's another sensation that comes with it that makes it so pleasurable at the same time.

Lewis watches you carefully and stills his movements, to let you adjust to his size. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to relax as much as you can to accomodate your thight walls around him. Once you feel the pain diminuate a bit you nod your head, letting him know that he can move further.

He slips in a little more then and lets himself moan at the heavenly feeling of your bare, tight pussy squeezing him tightly.

"Doing sooo good, baby. Taking me like a pro." He praises, moving your damp hair out of your face.

He bottoms out inside you and you whimper. He's so deep that you could swear you felt it in your stomach, but you want more.

As if he could read your mind, he slowly pulls out a bit then pushes himself inside again, making you let out tiny mewls and moans as you got to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. Lewis humms and buries his face in your neck, leaving wet, hot kisses all over it before going down to your breasts and taking one of them in his mouth and swirling his tongue around your hard, sensitive nipple. He starts to thrust his hips in a steady rhythm while taking your other breast in his mouth and all you can do is arch your back and whine, overwhelmed by the intense feeling.

"So fucking tight." He hissed, leaning back to grab your thighs and lift them on his shoulders, the new position allowing him to hit your spot better. You felt so full of him, and you were ready to cry from the pleasure.

"Lewis." You let out a loud moan and touch his abs, scratching them as he suddenly surprises you with a rougher pace that makes you roll your eyes back and let out a cry.

“Shit.” He curses, groaning when he feels your pussy clench around his fat cock. “Thought about fucking this pretty pussy every single day lately. And now look at you, all fucked out on my bed.”

His words make your head spin. You had no idea he thought about this just like you did, so many times.

“Y-you thought about me?” You manage to ask between moans, looking down for a second to catch a glimpse of his dick sliding in and out of you at a fast pace.

He went in for a messy kiss then pulled back a little, looking at you with half closed eyes. “You have no idea.” He mutters, grabbing your neck softly.

The sounds in the room are intoxicating. It’s filled with heavy breaths, moans, skin slapping repeatedly and the filthy sound of your impossibly wet pussy getting filled to the brim by Lewis. Your gaze is locked with his and it feels like there’s just the two of you left in this world. Nothing matters anymore. Not your dad, not your age gap, nothing. It’s so intense and intimate that it almost has your heart burst out of your chest.

Your thighs are trembling as he folds them to your chest, and your hands are frantically searching for something to grip onto, while incoherent sounds are dripping off your lips.

“You wanna cum, princess?” He asks, smirking down at you.

“Yes! Yes, please please don’t stop.” You beg, shaking your head as short screams leave your mouth.

He’s quick to drag a hand down to your pussy and starts rubbing your clit harshly with his thumb to force your release. The added pleasure makes you pulsate rapidly around his cock and you find yourself arching your back off the mattress again, struggling to breathe as your orgasm is nearing quickly.

“Come on, want you to make a mess on this cock, baby. Can you do that for me?”

You nod your head pathetically and yelp when he pinches your swollen clit, letting out a loud cry as your orgasm washes over you. It hits you so quickly and so violently that it makes your breath get stuck and your eyes squeeze shut while your legs are uncontrollably shaking. Your juices are dripping down Lewis’s cock and onto the mattress underneath you, and it’s a sight to die for as he watches it all happen.

“Good girl. Did so good f’ me.” He coos, but doesn’t stop the movements of his hips, although he slows down a bit to let you come down from your orgasm.

When you open your eyes to look at him, you find him already looking at you, with an enamored expression on his face. His hand is softly caressing your thigh while he is admiring the post-orgasmic glow of your skin.

Soon enough, he is picking up his pace again and you whine in discomfort and overstimulation, furrowing your brows.

“Can’t. Please. Can’t.” You squirm underneath him.

“You can, baby. Come on, just a little bit more.”

Using his arms, he spreads your legs wider so he can have more access to you. His thrusts quicken again and his fingers attaches themselves to your clit again, pressing into it in circular motions. You were squeezing him so tightly that he could barely move inside you but he pulled through, ramming his hips into yours with brutal force, trying to chase his own release.

“Oh.” You gasped and glued your eyes down to where your cunt was greedily sucking him in. Your milky essence is visible at the base of his cock and the sight is downright filthy.

“Fuck.” He grunts, also watching where you two are connected before he lunges towards you and grips your neck more tightly and yanks you forward a bit. You prop up on your elbows and look at him with wide, doe eyes, moaning uncontrollably. “Where do you want it, bunny?”

“Inside!” You respond immediately, placing one of your hands around his wrist. “Want you to come inside me. Please.”

Your eagerness to take his cum inside your tiny walls makes him shiver with enthusiasm. His tip hits your g-spot with every powerful snap of his hips and it made you part your lips in bliss. Lewis takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside your mouth, kissing you messily. You suddenly start to feel a different kind of pressure at the pits of your stomach and you wince, pulling back from the kiss.

“Lewis… I think there’s something wrong. Feels different.” You slurred, your eyes widening in fear.

“It’s alright, baby. I’m here. Give me one more, yeah?” He grunted, flicking at your clit with his palm rapidly.

The bed is moving with the rhythm of his aggressive thrusts and you feel your muscles contract and twitch with every move. You’re fluttering around him desperately as you scratch down his back with your polished nails and he moans deeply.

“Fuck. Gonna stuff this cunt. Come on, come for me. again, baby.” You know he is close by how much you can feel him throb inside of you.

With a particularly sharp thrust your orgasm washes over you, and you scream, letting your back fall on the mattress as you squirted, your juices making a mess on both you and Lewis. The sight makes him burst instantly and he groans, throwing his head back while he stills inside of you, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ve never done this before. I mean, you definitely heard of squirting, but no one was ever able to get you to this stage. You quickly become self conscious. What if he didn’t like it? What if he found you disgusting now? Terrified, you look up to him only to find out how wrong you were. He is already looking your way, with a huge smirk on his face.

“Look at that. My girl squirted all over the place.”

You blush deeply at his words and cover your face with your hands, but he is quick to grab them and pin them to the bed around your head.

“Why are you hiding? What’s wrong?” He chuckled, amused by the childish action.

“I… I’ve never done that before.”

“Did it feel good though?” He asked with a smug grin.

“Mhm…” You bite your lip and writhe slightly, making him moan at the sudden movement.

He carefully pulls out of you and leans back on his heels, only to see both of your releases slowly drip out of your cunt. He humms and brings two fingers there to massage around your hole, and then he pushes them inside, fucking the cum back into you.

You whine and he stops, looking back at you.

“Wait here for a second, hm? I’m going to draw you a bath.”

You nod and thank him quietly, watching him lovestruck as he gets up from the bed, collects his boxers from the floor and pulls them on, then disappears to the bathroom.

Few minutes later you’re both in the tub, your back is pressed against his chest and your eyes are closed in relaxation while he is lazily running his hand through your hair.

Even though the silence is comfortable, you can’t help but start to overthink. What was he thinking about? You didn’t necessarily think he regretted what you did, but what did it mean? Was he going to ghost you after that? Act like nothing ever happened? You wouldn’t judge him, especially considering the situation with your father, but you hoped that it wouldn’t be the case. Part of you was convinced that he wouldn’t just leave you in the dark like that. That wasn’t Lewis. Could never be Lewis. But your insecurities are still eating you alive.

Then he takes you by surprise again by reading your mind. “What are you thinking about?”

“I was actually wondering what were you thinking about.” You chuckle, leaning your head back a bit to look at him. God, how can this man be so beautiful?

He smiles softly and nuzzles his nose along your cheek, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to it.

You let out a breath and sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. “I was just asking myself… what now, I guess.” You shrugged, with a heavy heart.

He furrows his brows and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. “What do you want?”

You gulped and licked your lips, looking at him through your lashes. “I want you.”

“Then you have me. And you know I want you too. But it’s going to be a lot more complicated than that.” He whispers to you and you feel your heart drop on the spot, afraid of what he might be insinuating.

Noticing the broken look in your eyes, he quickly places his hands on both your cheeks and leans forward. “What I mean by that is, that we should be careful. I know keeping things a secret isn’t healthy, but giving the circumstances, I don’t think it would benefit either of us right now if someone found out about what we have going on. I promise that it won’t last forever, I would never keep you a secret, but for now that’s just the way things are.”

You take in his words. You know he is right. And you’ll take anything as long as it means that he’ll be finally yours. Even though the thought of keeping a secret like that, especially from your dad, makes you feel uneasy. But you’re so ready to give it a shot, just for him. What if everything turns out alright in the end?

“I know. And I understand.” You nodded, closing your eyes and pressing your lips against his in a tender kiss.

When you pull back, he gives you a quick wink and a smile, tapping the inside of your thigh lightly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

[fandom-go-round]

Realizing They're in Love: Reader x BG3

Warnings: Implied Internal Trauma, Personal Relationship Issues, Gross Stuff like Falling in Love

Astarion:

            He argues with himself for a long time before love comes to mind. It’s bad enough that he’s starting to like you but love? That’s just going to make things even harder. Astarion feels like the more he tries to talk himself out of it, the worse it gets. You corner him after dinner one night and he smiles, turning up the charm. You ignore his nervousness, giving him a simple wooden box. He immediately fills with dread; you want something. Of course you do. He’s not expecting there to be a book inside, the next one in the series he’s reading. You assure him that you don’t want anything in return, giving him a gentle smile before heading to your own tent. His heart thunders in his chest, fingers trailing over the cover. He’s not in love, Astarion tells himself as he goes to start the book. He can’t be but… if he is, it’s not the worst feeling in the world. Not with you.

Gale:

            He’s not against falling in love per say, Gale just isn’t looking. Honestly he’s not. This is more social interaction than he’s had in years and he’s not trying to fuck it up, thank you very much. That doesn’t mean he can’t forget himself, especially when you start asking him questions about magic. Gale loves magic most of all and he only realizes he’s been ranting after twenty minutes. He winces, scolding himself mentally and turns to you. You’re both sitting on the floor of his tent, sipping tea in the early afternoon. He fully anticipates that you’re going to half awake, bored to tears and doing something else. Instead, you’re staring at him with rapt attention, eyes bright and small smile on your face. When he’s silent for too long you ask him to keep going, asking if he’ll keep explaining. Gale is more than happy to continue, something warm in his chest. He hopes that you’ll keep looking at him that way even after he stops talking. And you do.

Halsin:

            Loud barks and hoots draw Halsin’s attention, the druid looking up from his papers. You’re a bit away from camp, Scratch and the owlbear cub playing with you. The three of you are chasing each other and wrestling, the cub slamming into the back of your knees. Halsin watches you go flying before laughing and grabbing the cub as best you can. You half swing him around, Scratch barking as you send his friend flying. The owlbear cub gives a roar, rolling through the grass and you laugh, chasing after the dog now. Halsin can’t help but smile; you’re so kind of everyone around you and he enjoys that you can relax. He hasn’t been ignorant to the feelings developing in his chest, just focusing on different things. The warmth he feels only grows as he watches you and he vows to talk about it. Halsin is sure he recognizes the looks you send him; he just needs to find the right time.  

Karlach:

            She realizes she’s in love after a tough fight. Her blood is still pumping and she wants more enemies to show up so she can have an excuse to go wild. You’re joking around with Wyll on the other side of the battlefield, the warlock turning to say something to you. You offer a smile and begin to hike up the slope and trip. Karlach watches in slow motion as you land hard on your ass, sliding down mud straight into the river. Wyll is frozen on the edge of the bank and she quickly makes he way over, worried that you’re injured. By the time she gets over there, you’re laughing loudly, head thrown all the way back. Her heart skips a beat; you’re covered in blood and mud and all sorts of gunk but all she can see is the right smile on your face. She’s in love.

Lae’zel:

Lae’zel doesn’t call it love. It’s admiration, respect for your skills. There are very few people she would follow verses leading herself and she admits that you’re good at it. She also enjoys the sex and that’s always a bonus. The sun is just beginning to go down and you stop on the edge of a cliff to watch. Lae’zel turns to scold you (the group needs to get back to camp) but she’s struck by your figure. You look like a painting, noble and steadfast. Your face is determined but not tense, taking in the sunset. There’s something in your eyes, something softer than she expects and it takes her breath away. She swears to herself and turns away, missing the affectionate look you send her. She’s doesn’t call it love, even if deep, deep down she wishes she could.

Shadowheart:

            Night has finally fallen on a long, long day. Shadowheart is thankful that you’re the one with her on first watch tonight; your silence isn’t looming as she prays and the sound of sharpening blades is soothing. There isn’t the need to fill the silence with noise and it feels calm in a way that’s unfamiliar. Usually she finds the night comfortable but cold, like an winter breeze. You’re like the night but warm, a balm on an open wound. She smiles as she watches you, not looking away when you meet her eyes. You smile and she’s filled with affection, even as her hand throbs. The pain is worth it; you make her feel truly seen.

Wyll:

            You’re crouched by a small cave, voice low and arm outstretched. The group had just finished a fight, a camp overrun with bandits. Wyll scowled to himself, looking over the bodies strewed over the ground. The people had been innocent and he wished he had been faster. Movement catches the corner of his vision and he turns, watching as, slowly, a child comes out of the cave. They’re covered in dirt and blood but you smile and they take you hand. Wyll can’t the stop the soft look from coming onto his face as you begin the check for wounds. The world can be a dark place but you give him hope; it’s more than he deserves.

[howcouldmuffin]

Beneath the Betrothal.

After the engagement was announced, and you realized that waiting was no longer the right path, you decided to start anew.

PAIRING : Jacearys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

WARNING : NSFW, Targaryen incest, Non-canon, SMUT, Sex Content

AN : This is the first fanfic l've written. I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to give me any feedback. Love.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

Many years have passed since your father Viserys announced the betrothal to Jacaerys, who although your nephew, is older than you. No one in House Hightower was pleased with this news, except for you.

You were raised differently from your siblings—the youngest daughter born with your father’s expectations. He had you share the same wet nurse as Jacaerys and your older brother Daeron. You grew up with the Velaryon family, witnessing the differences between your eldest sister Rhaenyra and your mother Alicent.

Although you had been friends with Jacaerys since childhood, the words that everyone kept telling you “that you would marry him” filled your mind with dreams. You fell in love with him, but you knew that he didn’t love you the same way. He was a charming young man, a gentleman with honor, admired by all. Many were fond of him. The prince of the Seven Kingdoms.

When Rhaenyra ascended to the throne, everyone swore oaths of loyalty and service to her without question. Many lords came to pay their respects to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Jacaerys was appointed as the heir to the Iron Throne, and your betrothal was announced once again, but it was never mentioned again after that.

At first, you thought it was just a matter of waiting for things to settle down before the important ceremony would take place. But as time went on, you began to question it, and eventually, you found the answer. It was Jacaerys who requested that the wedding be postponed. You were shattered by this news—it hurt as though your heart had been broken into pieces.

There have been months of silence and unspoken words between you and Jacaerys. Even the gatekeepers of the Red Keep are aware of the situation. The whispers and rumors have started to grow louder—some say the prince already has someone he wishes to marry, or perhaps he dislikes his betrothed because she is a Hightower. None of the answers bring you any truth.

But it has made you realize that waiting is no longer the right course of action. It’s time to start looking for potential suitors from great houses. Soon, there will be a grand event at the Red Keep once again—the second-year anniversary of Queen Rhaenyra’s reign. Nobles and knights from all over the realm will gather here. It could be a good opportunity to find a new way forward.

“I wish to see my queen.” you said to the knight guarding your sister’s chamber door. They nodded slightly and stepped aside to let you enter.

“Your Grace.” you said as you entered the room, immediately curtseying to the queen. “If it pleases you, I have something I wish to discuss.” Rhaenyra paused her writing and looked up.

“Sister.” she said, rising and walking towards you. “What is it you wish to speak with me about?” The queen gently led you to a nearby sofa and lightly took your hand.

“I’ve come to talk about my betrothal to the prince.”

“If you’d like to discuss how you’d like the ceremony to be arranged, or if there’s anything additional you’d like to request, you can speak to me directly.”

“No, Your Grace. I… I wish to call off the engagement.”

“Oh, dear, why would you want to cancel the betrothal? Have you found someone you prefer?”

“No, Your Grace. I just think it might be better if the prince and I were free to choose someone we truly like and love.” Rhaenyra laughed softly at your words. She raised her hand to cup your face, gently turning you to look into her eyes. You lifted your hand to hold hers in return.

“Listen to me, dear. There’s no one more suited to be the next queen than you. Don’t let others’ words sway you.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but I truly wish to call off the engagement. Please, I ask you to consider it.” You gently moved her hand away from your face, holding it firmly in yours.

“If that is what you desire, I will take it under consideration. But I ask that you think it over once more, my dear.” After expressing your wishes, you moved to embrace your sister, always understanding her no matter what.

Before long, the grand celebration was in full swing, with people gathering to offer their congratulations to their queen. Today, you woke up much earlier than usual. You were an integral part of organizing the feast—the floral decorations, the guest list of important attendees. You were determined to ensure that your sister’s special day would go smoothly.

The dress you wore today was long and red, with an off-the-shoulder design that revealed your neckline. It was beautifully embroidered with golden patterns around the dress. Your hair was partially braided and pinned up, with natural curls left to fall gracefully. You glanced at the necklace on your vanity table—the one Jacaerys had given you for your birthday many years ago. In the end, you chose not to wear it, opting instead for another necklace that matched your dress just as well.

“You look stunning, Princess.” your handmaiden remarked as she finished styling your hair.

“Thank you. You can leave now, I’ll take care of the rest myself.” She curtseied and left the room as instructed.

You slowly turned to the mirror, gazing at your reflection for a moment before preparing to head to the feast. By now, your mother was likely waiting for you. But as the door closed behind your handmaiden, you sensed someone else was in the room.

“What were you thinking, trying to call off the engagement?” Jacaerys spoke, his voice sharp. He was the last person you wanted to see right now. It was the first conversation in months that left a lasting impression.

“Prince.” you greeted him with a curtsey. “I just thought—” He stepped closer to you, so close that it nearly took your breath away. He looked angrier than you could ever remember seeing him.

“Is there someone else you’re in love with?”

“No, Your Highness.” you replied.

“Let’s go. The others must be waiting for us.” he said, lifting one arm. At first, you weren’t sure what he meant, but then you placed your hand on his arm.

Walking into the feast together might be normal for a married couple or an engaged pair, but it felt strange for the two of you, who hadn’t exchanged a meaningful word in so long. As you entered the great hall, you could feel the eyes of many upon you and your betrothed.

Everyone stood to pay their respects to you and their prince, creating an odd pressure on you. Jacaerys looked every bit the heir to the Iron Throne today. His attire included a cloak with a pattern matching your dress, likely arranged by Rhaenyra.

When you reached the queen’s table, you both bowed to the highest authority in the realm before going your separate ways. He sat beside his brother Lucerys, while you took a seat next to your brother Aemond.

“Beautiful dress, sister.” Aemond’s comment was more likely a tease than a compliment.

“Thank you, brother. I think it’s lovely as well.”

The feast began after Rhaenyra’s announcement, and the music started to play. People began to dance in the center of the hall. Conversations with your siblings took place, and although they didn’t think highly of your betrothed, they chose not to voice any further objections.

“Would you like to dance, sister?” Daeron, your youngest brother, asked. Why not? He was as renowned for his looks in the family as you were. Although you hadn’t grown up together much, he was the second person you consulted about your betrothed, after Helena.

With the music playing, you and your brother enjoyed the dance. As the Westerosi-style dance continued, many people joined in with you. Dancing gave you the opportunity to talk with a variety of men. Some were genuine friends, but most had other intentions beyond mere friendship.

“I think it would be the greatest mistake on your part to let her go.” Rhaenyra said to her son, who had been staring at you intently, prompting her to speak up.

“What are you talking about?” Jacaerys turned his attention to his mother, confusion evident on his face.

“You know very well what I’m talking about.” she said, meeting his gaze. “If you don’t truly care for her, then let her go. She deserves to find someone who truly loves her.” He remained silent, not responding, and merely finished his drink.

He stood up from the table and left the feast abruptly. With so many people in the hall, no one seemed to notice the prince’s departure. Now, Jacaerys was at a loss, angry with you for reasons he was struggling to address. He was searching for a way to make you pay for what you had done to him.

Once the door to your room closed behind you, you had just returned from the feast. Separating yourself from the men had left you quite exhausted, and you were eager to take a relaxing bath.

“Did you enjoy getting close to other men who aren’t your betrothed?” A familiar voice spoke up. You were startled to hear him, Jacaerys was sitting on your bed, glaring at you with a reprimanding look.

“How did you get into my room?” you asked, and moving closer to him. “When did you ever care that I’m your betrothed?”

“I’ve always cared about you, but what I know is that you haven’t shown any interest in me.”

“No interest, you say?” You stepped closer to him and leaned in. “I wouldn’t be asking to postpone the wedding if I didn’t care.”

“I care about you!” he shouted, making you jump. He had never acted this way towards you before. He stood up and approached you.

“And wanting to postpone the wedding means you don’t want to marry me, doesn’t it? What are you trying to say? If you hate me, just say it, Jacaerys Velaryon. I will not tolerate your mind games any longer.”

“You don’t understand me.” he said, stepping closer. You backed away in response. “I want you to be ready, ready to bear my children. If we marry, producing an heir will come first, and I know if you were to become pregnant too soon, it would be you who would leave me.”

With no space left to retreat, you and he were face to face. He placed one hand on the back of your neck, holding your gaze, while his other hand gently caressed your face.

“Listen to me. I have always loved you, and I will continue to love you until the day I die. You are the only one who makes me feel like myself, who I constantly long for. You will be the only one by my side.” His eyes, looking at you, were so beautiful.

“May I kiss you?” he asked.

You didn’t respond but immediately leaned in to kiss him. He kissed you back without hesitation as well. Both of you embraced each other as if you were missing warmth from one another. The taste he gave you was sweet and surprisingly addictive. He treated you with reverence and gentleness.

The physical connection between the two of you came together quickly as if drawn by opposing magnetic forces. You and he slowly walked towards the bed. Jacearys gently lifted you onto the bed and stood beside it. Both of you looked at each other for a moment before he slowly began to remove his outer shirt.

“Don’t tear my clothes.” you said, seeming to have less patience than him. You slowly removed your dress, leaving only the sheer undergarments. He chuckled softly and leaned down to kiss your neck, moving from your collarbone to your chest, your stomach, and the center of your body.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked. “If we stop now, you might not regret it.” He ran his finger along the waistband of your underwear, the small piece that was covering you at the moment. He kissed your stomach again, followed by your collarbone and neck.

“We’ve come too far to stop now.” you said. “Please, my prince.” You placed your hand on his hair, marveling at its natural waves. The prince slowly removed the sheer garment that covered you

“You are so beautiful, perfectly suited for me.” he said, kissing your chest. His other hand gently squeezed it, leaving the imprint of his fingers. He nipped at your nipple and licked it slowly. Your desire surged, and you craved even more.

He slowly used his hands to remove your small panties. Soon, heaven was revealed before him. His hands parted your legs, and he leaned down to taste the sweetness between your thighs. His nose brushed against your clit, driving you nearly insane.

You moaned, "Please, my prince, I need more." You were now very wet. Jacearys, undoubtedly aware, playfully teased your little cunt with his tongue, and the lewd sounds echoed throughout your bedroom.

“What do you want, beautiful?” he asked, using his other hand to play with your erect nipple.

“I want you, Jacearys.” you moaned again. He fuck you with his fingers in your sweet cunt. His fingers pushed deeper inside you while his mouth licked at your clit.

“Who do you belong to?” he murmured, then turned to mark your thigh instead.

"I am yours." you breathed heavily. "Yours, Jacearys." Soon, your moans rose again, your body convulsing slightly as it tightened around his fingers.

"Look at what you've done to me, how hard it is." He slowly took off his pants, showcasing his erect state. He stroked it once or twice and then slowly entered.

"Oh, fuck." he moaned. "It's so tight." He stayed inside for a while and then gradually moved his body so that you wouldn't feel pain.

“Such a sweet cunt” He kept accelerating his hip rhythm, the impact sounded all over the room, wondering how someone was guarding the door of the room today, he knew what you and our prince was doing.

The time that passes each minute is precious to you now. You feel that you are very sensitive even if it is just a little touch. But you can't deny how much you like it every time you feel him in your own body.

“I'm very close.”

“At the same time”

White drops also dripped out of him. He pushed himself deeper into you. The moans of the couple said very well. He cum inside of you, your irregular breathing and he touched each other's skin.

He leaned down to kiss you again, sweeter than ever before. His hair fell down around you, creating an incredibly seductive scene. One of your hands gently caressed his cheek. You needed nothing more when he was by your side.

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.” He whispered

“I am yours, and you are mine, Whatever may come.”

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine chapter 3

A/n: canon typical violence someone gets stabbed (not you) feedback is always welcome

The clock ticks in an uncomfortable rhythm, almost pounding in your ears, you swallow around nothing and try to take a deep breath, only a few more minutes now.

Sitting cross cross felt childish but you needed the comfort of being low to the ground, before you stood a proud grandfather clock, the thing always intimidated you for some reason, maybe it's because you could smell how expensive it was, how priceless, but it was the only room in the house you could guarantee would be free of any nuisances, aka your estranged family.

A lone little Debbie cupcake in hand, a candle in another, you stick the candle inside the soft flesh of the treat, lighting it with the silver zippo, the seconds begin to count down as the wax melts, today was your eighteenth birthday, and the day you'd find true freedom. A day you'd been waiting for since you'd decided to wash your hands of the Wayne's and all who associated with them.

Bruce had begun to add to his collection of broken people one by one a new face was added to the house, and one by one you were met with the same cold indifference.

Barbara Gordon came into your life warmly, on the arm of Dick, she was kind to you in the beginning, making a point to ask you questions and listening intently when you answered, immediately you admired the older woman, her charming grin and bright demeanor was like a light inside the house, until she became who you eventually discovered was Oracle, tied up in the world of heroes and monsters, she too joined the club of exclusion, unintentionally forgetting plans the two of you had made more often than not, sharing inside jokes with Dick about last night's patrol or even taking on a mentor role for Damian, each action like a stab to the heart.

The last straw felt like the smallest one. And it came in the form of Cassandra Cain.

The girl came to the family under reasons you couldn't know, but she was troubled, you could see the same look in her eyes you had when you looked in the mirror as a child, she didn't outright reject your friendship like Damian, but she was seemingly as disinterested in you as the rest of your family, the real kick to your heart came when you walked past a moment shared between her and Bruce, he was comforting her, you couldn't hear the words spoken but you could feel the love pouring from Bruce, how he had a gentle hand on her shoulder, showing her a kind of love he'd never once shown you.

It wasn't her fault and you held no grudge against her, but it still felt like a slap to the face, and every time you saw her, every time she followed them down to their little hiding spot, the acid-like sting deep in your chest got worse. It was then you made a promise to yourself, you'd stop trying, no more reaching out to Dick or praying Jason would message you back, no more begging for Tim's attention or Damian's respect, and you were sure as shit done asking Bruce to love you.

You're brought back to the present moment by the loud ring of the clock before you, the echoing sound brought a ear splitting grin to your face, finally, you were done.

Blowing out the candle, you toss it on the floor, standing with a pep in your step. You'd had your bags moved out days ago so the only thing left was to leave. A chatter could be heard the closer you got to the front door, male and female voices happily spoke with one another, but you were so unfazed, too excited about your current plans to care they'd gathered without you on your birthday.

"Oh hey (Y/n)" Dick says after spotting your form in the doorway, see the only reason you were here is because the dining room lead to the front door, and your new found freedom.

You nod at him, taking in the sight of popcorn and half empty pizza boxes, a movie projected on the wall, ah so they decided to have a little get together?

None of your concern.

"Sorry we didn't call you down, didn't realize you were home" Dick says a look of pity in his eyes, "do you want some?" It's almost said with a wince.

"Nah." Was your simple response, and with that you walked out of their door and lives.

You'd bought an apartment with your own money, you'd been working since you were fourteen, saving every penny for this moment exactly. It was in a shit part of town with an even shitter interior but it was yours and you loved it. Water dripped into a mostly full bucket in the corner, the lights took a full forty seconds to turn on and it reeked of old cigarettes.

Yet you couldn't wipe the smile off your face.

Feeling that euphoric rush had you buzzing all night, besides the bed in your room was, questionable to say the least, so you decided to stay up. Cleaning what you could with what you had made you feel even better, this terrible little space was all yours, no condescending people or assholes in sight.

Feeling hungry, you throw on a black puffer coat and a matching beanie and start to brave the Gotham cold. Each step is taken with a new gratitude, the farther you get from that family the better you feel.

Your happiness is pulled to a grinding halt by the sound of rapid footsteps behind you, without thinking you turn, fist balled tightly in perfect form, Patty would be proud if she saw the way you decked the bastard running up on you.

You nailed him right in the throat sending him to his knees, his knife cluttering to the ground before your feet, grabbing the weapon you point it down at his choking body, your hands still despite your rapid heartbeat. The wheezing man made a swipe at your ankles causing you to bring the knife down right into his shoulder, a scream rips though his throat, the adrenaline in your body has you running on autopilot.

Kicking him in the side of the head to quickly sprint to the corner store where you'd planned on going in the first place, your hands shake as you grab your food, but again, that smile stays on your face.

Not only had you moved out today, you'd proved to yourself you didn't need them for anything, not protection, not validation, nothing, it was like you could breathe again.

The next few weeks are business as usual at the manor, until Barbara looks at the calendar and realizes she'd, along with everyone, had forgotten your birthday. The guilt ate at her until she made her way to your room knocking softly, a cupcake in hand she called out, "(Y/n)? Listen I'm so sorry about your birthday, I got my dates mixed up." The lie came easy, but no response was heard, "I get if you're completely pissed at me, at us but-"

"Miss (L/n) has moved out."

"what? How is that possible we would have noticed her moving out." As if to prove Alfred wrong Barbara opens your door, only to find a barren room, empty of any signs of life. She turns to the older man, a thousand questions burning on her tongue, but he seemed to read her, "you'd be surprised what goes unnoticed in this house miss Gordon, have a good afternoon." He leaves her with this and it only makes the guilt and confusion worse.

She pulls out her phone scrolling to a number she hadn't used in a while, biting her thumb as it rings she's hoping you clear all her confusion when you answered, but you don't, instead an automated message tells her your phone has been disconnected. Now she begins to worry, you were so young, just barely an adult, the idea of you out on your own in Gotham had her heart sinking, clicking the family group chat she sends a message that will change everything.

"We need to talk about (Y/n)."

[elssero]

streamer !

.d.kaminari

♰ nsfw, pro hero denki x f!reader, male masturbation

pro hero chargebolt logging onto twitch on his day off too see his favourite pretty streamer play her favourite games or talk about whatever’s currently trending.

it’s his favourite past time, he spends all week looking forward to his day off so he can catch up on all your streams he missed this week.

he gets especially giddy if you actually stream that day so he can watch it live.

at first his infatuation with you is innocent, your a rising streamer just like he’s a rising hero!! your situations are so similar in that sense, your both adjusting to your new found fame and your both rising the charts of your respected careers very fast.

he admires you! you seem to interact with fans and the media so easily so that he just can’t help but be drawn to you ! it’s not his fault ! but it helps that your exactly his type.

he feels incredibly lucky to be able to catch one of your streams live, your currently around thirty minutes into a just chatting stream, your doing a q&a more so aimed at new fans who don’t know all that much about you yet.

but he knows, he knows you answered questions extremely similar to the ones your answering now in your q&a two months ago but still he can’t help the wide grin that appears on his face everytime you giggle, or at the little smirk you give the camera when you answer a question that could be deemed a little risky.

he watches the whole stream with anticipation, despite being able to correctly guess all the answers your giving, he is genuinely interested in what you have to say, he swears!! it’s not his fault the bludge in his pants keeps growing everytime you re-adjust the way your sitting or when you move your arms to type something on your keyboard and the action pushes your tits together slightly. he’s really is trying his hardest to ignore the growing feeling in his sweats but it’s getting sore !

not wanting to lose control completely he begins to palm himself over the material of his sweats, just slight rubbing down on himself to help the ache he feels from watching you do something as normal as answering a few questions from your fans.

your forty-five minutes into the stream now and a donation pops up with a question that you’ve never answered before, denki immediately straightens up, beyond eager to hear the answer to the question.

“hey pretty! first of all i love your streams but i need you to settle a debate for me! of all the new young heros that have had their debut this year which is your favourite?

you immediately giggle and thank the donator for their donation and their compliment, the question seems to still you for a second, you look deep in thought and denki is on the edge of his seat awaiting your answer.

you suddenly break out into a huge grin and begin to answer the question “firstly i think their all very inspiring! being able to use your quirk to help people in the way they do is very admirable i can’t help but always feel safe when i hear news of yet another save from our hero’s”

denkis breath hitches, he feels like he can’t breathe, you think he’s inspiring. you admire him.

“however, if i had to pick a favourite i guess it would probably be chargebolt” you take a second to think before you continue “i’ve seen a few of his interviews and i would say he’s clearly very charismatic, he seems like he would be easy to get along with!”

he watches in a trance as you giggle at the end of your sentence before taking a breathe and biting down a small smirk you say-

“he’s also very cute so that helps too!”

denki swears he could’ve came in his pants right there and then. you just admitted to all of your viewers that he’s your favorite up and coming hero. you just admitted to all your viewers that you think he’s cute.

he’s scrambling to reverse your stream to hear you say it again, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, when he hears it come out of your mouth for the 3rd- no 4th time he’s sure he isn’t hearing things.

he feels like he’s going feral, you his favourite twitch streamer, someone he’s been watching from afar getting his rocks off too for months just said that he’s your favourite. just like how your his favourite too!

his dick twitches in his sweats and he doesn’t even hesitate to take it out like he normally does, any guilt he’s ever felt for touching himself to the idea of you is completely out the window, he wonders what you’d think if you saw him now, your favourite pro-hero scrambling to get his dick out while he watches your stream… would you enjoy it? you did say you thought he was cute… maybe you would enjoy it.

the thought has him almost drooling. his dick is twitching in his hand as he moves his hand up and down his cock at a pace he’s never done before. he’s so pent up that he feels like a teenager again, quickly jacking himself off in search of a realise he knows is already approaching.

he’s moaning at this point, completely drowning out what your now saying.. something about your outfit? he doesn’t know but what he does know is that you looking absolutely breathtaking while saying it.

he wants to last he really does but he can’t help it, not when your looking into the camera like that, almost like your looking directly into his eyes, encouraging him.

he thinks about it for a second, he thinks about you whispering in his ear, telling him to cum for you.. urging him to finish himself off to the sound of your voice.

he bottoms out with a whine of your name, shooting thick ropes so far they hit his laptop screen, he’s panting, regaining his breathe as your voice starts to become more clear from the foggy state he was just in. he doesn’t feel guilty, not like he usually does, instead he feels a sense of pride.. or maybe contempt?

he clips the part of your stream when you talk about him, adding it to a file he has saved “my favorite streamer<3” he cleans the cum from his laptop as he fully calms down, head still a little spacey from the moment he just had. his phone is blowing up with notifications, hundreds of tweets tagging him in the clip that someone had already reposted, in just a few minutes it’s clear that people think positively of what you’ve said about him with many people agreeing and he feels that all familiar sense of pride.

you notice it too, you gasp at the sudden rise in viewers, thanking everyone for their support and ending the stream abruptly. normally he would feel a little disappointed but nothing can move him from his high right now. he waits a couple minutes in a state of awe, he can’t believe it. truly.

just as he begins to stand up, deciding to order a little victory take out for himself he gets a dm on twitter from an account he follows.

yn: hi chargebolt! i’m not sure if you’ve seen the clip circling around but i wanted to send you a quick message to apologise for any trouble it’s causing you or your team! if you need me to put out a statement i’m happy to do so, all the best!”

okay now he can’t believe it. you just dmed him, mere minutes after he’d came like a sexually frustrated virgin to your stream, he’s convinced he must be dreaming, but the once again growing tent in his pants proves that he’s not.

chargebolt: “don’t worry about it sweetheart, there’s much worse things that i could be dealing with today, i don’t think i’ll need you to put out a statement but i’d happily treat you to dinner instead?”

[multiverse-menagerie]

Perhaps could I request the bg3 companions going through Tav's sketchbook and finding that it's riddled with drawings of each companion, but especially them. Maybe it's the early stages of a romance or smthn?

I’ve been slowly spinning this around in my head, yessss

Gale

At first, Gale thinks journal is a book you’ve left for him. He’s not really one to go through your personal belongings after all. But upon opening the journal and finding swaths of drawings of your party and him, he’s thrown a little off kilter

He returns it to you immediately (read as: he fights with himself for a good ten minutes to stop looking at the sketches of himself and return the book to you) but asks you about your hobby

Listens very intently to however much you’re willing to tell him. Gale would ask, “are those me? or do you know some other roguishly handsome wizard with a penchant for fancy robes?”

He’s trying Very Hard to downplay his feelings about the whole matter. He’s not used to being the admired one…but he’s certainly not complaining

Shadowheart

As she hopes everyone will respect her need for privacy, Shadowheart strives to do the same for others. Despite many opportunities to peak at your journal, she resists and eventually asks you about it directly, but with no pressure

shy!Tav, nervously showing off the sketches and trying to gloss over how many of these drawings are of Shadowheart - after a deep breath, Shadowheart ignores the blush rising on her skin and asks about some of the other drawings

Confident!Tav, flipping through the sketches and happily showing off the images of Shadowheart especially - Shadowheart flusters, sputters out a near incomprehensible jumble of words and rushes off

Either way, the moment lives Rent Free(tm) in her head and she hopes you’ll show her the journal again

Astarion

STUNNED. like, almost drops your sketch in surprise bc wait. Holy shit. Is that him??

recovers smoothly, plays down the way his adrenaline has spiked

It does not matter how good the portraits of him are, sketches or fully finished drawings, he is Memorizing those pages

If you draw him with any soft expression, he’ll point out that image to you and be like “I think you’ve messed up on that particular reaction, dear” (that’s how he looks at you, shh don’t tell him)

Wyll

He spots you watching him one day as he’s training, your eyes flipping between him and the journal in front of you. Eventually he gives in and wanders over, inquiring about what you’re up to

when you show him the spread, sketches of him doing swordplay (and a few close headshots) - Wyll is both very impressed and very flustered

He compliments your skills, though jokingly questions the subject of your drawings. Certainly someone else would make a more attractive drawing, he says, gesturing vaguely to his mismatched eyes and newly acquired horns

Is surprised by the fierce frown you give him, the disapproval in your voice at his suggestion. You’re drawing him for a reason. Thoroughly chastised and a little embarrassed, Wyll thanks you (he doesn’t elaborate beyond that but you get the idea)

Karlach

Karlach is too afraid to touch anything that seems even vaguely flammable, but she’s seen you scribbling into your journal on many an occasion. Eventually her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks you about it

If you’re hesitant to show her, she’ll back off…but kind of pout like a little kid. Not in an attempt to make you feel bad but just bc that’s who she is. If and when you decide to show her the sketches, she’s super hyped

Jaw on the floor. She’s not got the patience or skills for drawing, not really, but your talent blows her away. And then she sees the drawings of her and she’s like - mouth open, heart eyes

jokes about how you’ve drawn her, with a huge grin on her face the whole time “how long have you been staring at my thighs to get the drawing this accurate? should I get a new outfit for your next page?”

Lae’zel

She’s never really cared much for her appearance - don’t get me wrong, she thinks she looks great but she’s never really been the one to stare at her reflection or anything

But Lae’zel sees herself in your sketches, drawings of her in softer states, in relaxation, and shes…surprised

Part of her bristles - she’s a strong warrior on a mission, she doesn’t need you seeing her as soft. But a different part of her…eases. Relaxes. You see her as an individual worth affection.

Lae’zel wouldn’t comment much about the drawings, but she would ask to sit and watch you draw, if it wouldn’t bother you. Your skilled hands, the way your brow furrows as you draw. Yes. She likes that.

Halsin

At first, Halsin is simply impressed by your talents. Artistry has always been something he’s enjoyed, no matter the form, so he’s happy to get to see your work

When he comes across the pages devoted to him, he’s thrown off a little. He’s used to being admired, if we’re being honest. As long as he’s lived and as many people he’s been with, it happens. But he’s not used to…this. Being part of the art but without any expectation of him.

Traces a finger over the lines of his face - somehow you’ve captured a look that makes him seem so…heroic. Is that how you see him? Warmth feels his chest and he goes to seek you out

You don’t get much of an answer, when you ask why he’s scooped you and paying you extra attention, nuzzling his face into your hair

[ja3yun]

Royal Sacrifice | S.JY

prince!jake x maid!fem reader warnings: fluff, angst, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, heartbreak, my attempt to write posh-ish, anti-monarchy vibes throughout, mentions of violence, petnames (my love, sweetheart), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.1k synopsis: your secret relationship with prince jaeyun is all you could have dreamed of, however, you're rudely awakened when your lover tells you some devastating news.

part 2 a/n: surprise! you're all sick of me i know, but i wanted to post this before it sat in my drafts too long and i overthought to the point of never posting it </3 i changed up my writing style a little to fit the aesthetic of it all and idk if it worked but enjoy anyway! also, this is for the people asking me to post more jake <3

"Tonight demands nothing short of perfection from each and every one of you. Not a single mishap or slip-up will be tolerated. Should I catch so much as a hair or button out of place, rest assured, I will personally request your head." The Chamberlain's voice, firm and commanding, spreads through the grand corridor, her gaze penetrating the maids and footmen.

As she paced back and forth, the bright torch cast a soft glow against the polished marble floors, illuminating the intricate patterns etched into its surface. Each uniform was meticulously inspected, and every seam and crease was subjected to intense scrutiny. The weight of the impending event hung heavy in the air, thick with anticipation.

Tonight, within the confines of the castle walls, the royals and social elite would congregate for the year's largest gala. It was an exhibit of greatness, with the chosen guests flaunting their rank and power.

For the last seven months, you have wandered the castle's hallways as an insignificant maid to the Royal family of Glengyre. Your hands were battered from hours of labour and your spirit dwindled to the hardships of the job, but you had to do it.

You weren’t exactly invited into the castle, in fact, you had snuck your way in through the war tunnels underneath and begged the head housekeeper, Miss Son, to place you on her team.

Being born into a working-class household, you were all too familiar with the misery of poverty. With your parents absent and your siblings relying on your meagre earnings from the bakery, you carried the burden of duty from an early age. Survival had been your main priority, with every move controlled by the never-ending search for food and security; this was the job you needed. 

Once you convinced Miss Son to give you a position, you were mindful to keep a low profile, sticking to your duties and never causing trouble. You dare not even breathe too loud next to the monarchy, each of them vicious and gruel in their own ways.

Yet amidst the icy family, there existed one beacon of warmth and compassion - Prince Jaeyun, the only heir to the throne.

He was the kindest man you had ever met, his values and ideals so drastically different from his fathers; all he ever wanted was peace and equality for the kingdom of Glengyre. His opinions echoed your own, his vision for the kingdom a testament to his noble character.

Everyone adored him, captivated by those puppy dog eyes and his wide, wholesome smile. Jaeyun had a magnetic charm that drew people to him effortlessly.

And yet, amidst the throngs of admirers, he reserved his heart only for you.

Jaeyun was familiar with all the staff, each face and name etched into his memory. So, when you suddenly appeared to clean the Library, he took immediate notice of you.

“I don’t believe we have met,” Jaeyun bows his head slightly to you, causing confusion to spread over your face. Men of his status shouldn’t be talking to you, let alone show you this level of respect, “Has The Chamberlain begun to hire new staff for that god-awful ball already?” he chuckles.

You’re transfixed by his question and his beauty, it’s not every day a Prince speaks to you, let alone so casually.

With this being your first job at such a level, you don’t know what to do. Typically, all maids get training and lessons on how to approach any member of the Royal Court, however, due to the nature of your employment, that part was skipped.

Jaeyun raises a brow, “Miss, are you alright? You look dreadfully pale,” he shows concern for you, even when he has no need to.

Quickly, you bow, “I am so sorry, Your Highness. I-I have been here for a while. Perhaps I have just blended into the background,” you offer as an explanation.

“A woman as beautiful as you could never blend in with this dreary decor” he smiles, holding out his hand, “Can I push you for your name?”

He waits expectantly, his palm outstretched as it waits for you to place your delicate hand into his. You didn’t need training to know you should never touch a member of the Royal Family, so you stay stagnant.

Noticing your apprehension, Jaeyun smiles and reaches his hand down to grab yours. You don’t want to say you felt a spark as soon as his hand graced yours but between you both, you could easily power up the castle generators.

He feels it too, the pull you had on him has been cemented by this moment, “I’m Prince Jaeyun,” leaning down he kisses your knuckles, maintaining eye contact with you as he does so.

The Prince is mesmerising.

“Y/N, Your Highness. My name is Y/N,” your voice is wavering as your body is shaken by his act. You aren’t scared of him, you’re just shocked by his kindness.

“Y/N…a name as breathtaking as its owner.”

Since that day, Jaeyun hasn’t left your side, his presence constant as he finds any excuse to be in the room you’re working in, his conversations tailored to draw out your thoughts and passions.

To him, your background was irrelevant; he saw the depth of your character and your mind's brilliance. Every exchange deepened his admiration for you, weaving an unbreakable bond between you both.

Secret notes and clandestine meetings became the norm, each encounter is a stolen moment of shared laughter and intimate conversation. Jaeyun was captivated by your wisdom and fascinated by your unique perspective on the world.

In your second month at the castle, on the moonlit balcony of his bed chambers, he kissed you, declaring his love for you in the same breath. From that moment on, he was not just a prince but your prince, devoted entirely to you.

The Chamberlain gives you all one final check before sending you out, her excitement palpable as she practically squeals, "Places everyone, this is a big night!"

As far as you and the rest of your team are concerned, tonight is just another ball, one hosted nearly every month. But The Chamberlain's demeanour suggests otherwise - someone vastly important must be attending. The air crackles with anticipation, and whispers ripple through the servant ranks, speculating on the identity of the esteemed guest.

As you all fall into line at the entrance, you wait for the party to begin.

The sight of everyone's extravagant gowns and suits is awe-inspiring. Each guest seems to sparkle, adorned in riches that could feed your family for years. It serves as a striking reminder of the kingdom's vast disparities. Meanwhile, the servants stand in their modest uniforms, hardly visible amid the sea of finery.

It irks you to know that these people, who all have some power in ruling your home, could not care less about the people within it.

“You two, come with me,” The Chamberlain beckons you and the girl beside you to follow her, snapping her fingers as she hurries you along to the kitchen.

With little instruction, she thrusts a tray full of champagne into your hands. “Once empty, you come right back. I do not want to see one moment where you are not serving some form of beverage. Understood?”

“Yes, Madam Chamberlain,” you both say in unison as you bow and make your way to the Great Hall. The palace is now teeming with people from all corners of the kingdom, the room resonating with laughter and chatter. You'd find it enjoyable if you deemed any of these people tolerable. Drinks disappear and reappear from your silver tray, and not a single word of gratitude is uttered.

Finally, the Royal family enters the hall, with the King standing strongly at the front and his Queen elegantly alongside him, their presence commanding attention as they survey the gathering with royal poise, looking for the most important person in the room beside themselves.

However, Jaeyun is not like the others. Amidst the pomp and its beauty, his sight is drawn to a person considerably less notable.

In an instant, his attention falls on you, a delicate smile gracing his lips as he lifts his brow in discrete acknowledgement, a silent greeting in a noisy environment. The difficulties of being in a secret relationship with someone so far above your social status weigh hard; even in the same area, being seen with Jaeyun is a luxury you cannot afford.

Excusing himself from his family, he greets people on his way over to you, captivating the whole room as he does so. To everyone else, he appears to be merely working the room, exchanging pleasantries with ease, but you, standing in quiet anticipation, know better.

In that moment, it's as if the entire hall fades away, leaving only you and Jaeyun in your own private world. He moves closer, each step filled with purpose, each smile and gesture meant only for you.

As he approaches, his every move exudes royalty. It’s impossible to deny that Jaeyun was born to be king.

"Can I take one of these to lighten your workload?” Jaeyun asks with a playful glint in his eyes, already reaching for a flute of champagne.

You dip your head in a respectful curtsy, mindful not to spill the drinks as you balance the tray precariously. Miss Son's strict instructions echo in your mind - no engaging with royalty at events, let your body speak for your tongue.

But sometimes, Jaeyun takes that directive too literally.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Jaeyun says, his voice low and intimate. You hear a collective sigh from some nearby girls, their attention momentarily diverted from their own conversations to admire the Prince and his effortless charm.

Walking to stand next to you, his arm brushes yours as he looks in the opposite direction to you, he whispers just loud enough for you to hear, “Should I tell them I’m happily taken or would you like to put them in their place after hours?” his tone is laced with playful mischief. 

“I would much rather occupy my time after hours with someone else,” you reply with a smirk, keeping your head facing forward to maintain composure.

You can't see it, but you feel the shift in Jaeyun's expression, a flicker of excitement, a hint of anticipation. His eyes dart briefly to yours, a silent exchange of mischief passing between you.

“Well, tell him he’s the luckiest man in the world,” Jaeyun responds, his voice tinged with amusement.

“Doesn’t he already know that?” you retort, a lively glint dancing in your eyes.

Jaeyun's hand lightly grazes your back, “Believe me, he will never forget,” he says wistfully as he turns away, seamlessly slipping back into his role of mingling with the guests. The lingering warmth of his touch leaves you breathless, your heart pounding with excitement at the thought that despite the separation now, he will be tangled in your body and soul later on.

The rowdy girls behind you giggle, their voices rising over the bustle of the hall as they discuss the Prince's past escapades with their cousins and sisters, whispering about how they hope they could spend just one night with him.

Jaeyun's reputation spread beyond the castle gates. He was renowned as a charming playboy, a Casanova whose dalliances sparked chatter across the kingdom. Every week, a new maiden appeared, talking about their alleged "hot affair" with the heir. It was enough to make anyone apprehensive, and you were no different. You maintained your guard up at first, rejecting his advances, refusing to become just another conquest in his succession of women.

But the more you spoke with him, as you shared moments and secrets in the quiet corners of the palace, you came to realise that the instant flurry of admiration you felt was not one-sided. Jaeyun's heart beats for you and you alone. 

You discovered in him a love that went beyond gossip and whispers, a love based on trust and understanding. With that realisation, your reservations vanished, replaced by a deep assurance that Jaeyun was yours, and you were his, now and forever - or for as long as you could keep this illicit affair going.

The bell sounds, its loud chime cutting through the murmurs and whispers of the gathered guests, signalling you and the others to proceed to the main door of the castle.

"May I please introduce King James and Queen Elizabeth of the Lethamhill Kingdom, and their daughter, Princess Mia," the Master of Ceremonies declares, his voice full of power.

The announcement strikes like a thunderbolt, bringing the audience to a profound silence. Nobody had expected the arrival of the Royals of Lethamhill and the astonishment is evident as you look around to see a sea of stunned faces. Whispers spread like wildfire across the crowd as each visitor grapples with the implications of this unexpected situation.

Lethamhill and Glengyre are currently involved in delicate discussions about the possible unification of the kingdoms, a topic of enormous political importance. According to what Jaeyun has told you, these conversations have been stressful, with no definite agreement reached so far. The presence of the Lethamhill Royals at this gathering signifies a historic point between the two kingdoms.

The struggle between the two kingdoms has caused irreparable destruction, including starvation, poverty, sickness, and a staggering loss of life. It would take something genuinely extraordinary for both parties to put aside their differences and work together in peace.

Your eyes meet Jaeyun’s across the room, and you can see the fury simmering beneath the surface of his composed facade at the sudden intrusion. Yet, even as anger flashes in his eyes, you can sense the weight of responsibility pressing down on him.

No one knows quite how to react to this unexpected turn of events, each guest grappling with their own thoughts and fears as they await the next move from the Lethamhills.

“Please, do not stop on our account, continue the festivities,” King James proclaims, his voice carrying a jovial tone, a vibrant smile gracing his features.

As the party continues and dinner is served, guests settle into their assigned seats, laughter and conversation filling the air as they merrily drink the castle dry. Surprisingly, the presence of the Lethamhill Royals doesn't disrupt the flow of the event, instead, it seems to enhance it. Many see this as a reconciliation party now, eagerly awaiting the announcement that could potentially solidify peace between the two kingdoms.

Your role for the evening is clear: shut up and stand to the side, only interacting if called upon. It's undoubtedly the most tedious part of the night. Being on your feet for hours on end, catering to the whims of the guests is exhausting enough but enduring the occasional push or intentional spillage of drinks on your uniform from some of the more unruly guests adds insult to injury. 

The other worst part of the evening was the sight of Princess Mia draped all over your lover, her hands roaming possessively over his chest and arms as if they were hers to claim. Each touch felt like a dagger to your heart, stirring a tumultuous mix of jealousy and hurt within you.

Jaeyun attempted to gently remove her, pushing her away with as much politeness as he could but she stubbornly refused to listen. Occasionally, his eyes would flicker to you with a sympathy, silently communicating his regret at the situation and how you must be feeling. He would never wish for you to be hurt.

Telepathically, you reassure him that it's okay, that you understand and trust him implicitly. After all, it's not his fault that another woman - a tall, beautiful, rich, and powerful woman at that - feels entitled to touch him. His efforts to remove himself from the situation already speak volumes, and you take some solace in his unwavering loyalty.

But despite your attempts to rationalise, the bitterness lingers, a bitter pill that's difficult to swallow.

Standing on the sidelines affords you the opportunity to observe the dynamics of the entire top table, not just Jaeyun. The Kings engage in whispered conversations and the Queens gossip amongst themselves. It's as if no blood had ever been shed between their kingdoms.

The casual camaraderie displayed by those responsible for the devastating conflicts between their kingdoms makes you sick to your stomach. How can they be so chummy, so nonchalant, when their irresponsible fighting has caused so much pain and suffering to countless lives? It's a reminder of the callousness of those in power, their indifference to the consequences of their actions leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

Suddenly, you see your King rise and tap Jaeyun on the shoulder, ushering him into an undisclosed location. The urgency of the gesture sends a ripple of apprehension through you, and you can only presume that he is finally letting Jaeyun in on the reason for the Lethamhills' unexpected presence.

“Why do you suppose they are here, Y/N?” Heejin, the girl to your right, asks in a hushed breath, her voice tinged with concern.

“I can’t say for certain, but I fear it won’t be for the champagne and escalope,” you reply, turning to face her, your expression mirroring her worry.

And when Jaeyun re-enters the hall, you know that your apprehension was not unfounded. His face is devoid of the charismatic expression he had worn for most of the night. 

The king wears a stern expression, clearly unamused with whatever his son has to say in rebuttal to his conversation. 

Something is deeply wrong

You scream at him with your eyes, silently urging him to look at you, but he doesn't, his gaze fixed straight ahead. It's clear that whatever transpired in that conversation has deeply unsettled him, and you ache to know what happened.

“Excuse me, Miss Son, but may I please go to the lavatory?” you ask your head maid, hoping to slip away unnoticed. Her disdainful scoff is the only response, urging you to return quickly.

With a bow of gratitude, you glide towards the exit, silently willing Jaeyun to notice your movements and follow you. Your eyes briefly meet his, and he nods, understanding your need for a private conversation.

You arrive at your usual secret spot - the Council Chamber - a place where every decision is made and policies are signed. It's a room steeped in history and power, but also secrecy and intimacy. Old men come here to dictate the fate of the kingdom they supposedly love.

Jaeyun recommended this particular room as a defiant ‘fuck you’ against societal norms of hierarchy and privilege. It's ironic, considering he's made love to you on every surface of the place, turning his statement from metaphorical to literal.

Tracing your fingers over the spine of the old book laid on the desk, the door swings open suddenly, causing your heart to race with surprise. You quickly straighten up, trying to compose yourself as Jaeyun strides into the room.

“Did I frighten you, my love?” he asks softly, a hint of amusement in his voice as he approaches you.

You shake your head, “No, not at all,” you say trying to ease yourself, straightening your uniform and brushing the dust off your front. He always laughed when you tidied yourself for his presence, a habit when you’re faced with Royalty. You’re hardly unacquainted, the portraits hanging on the room walls can testify to that.

Finally reaching you, Jaeyun's hands find their way to your hips as he traps you between him and the oak desk. His eyes glance behind you to see what you were looking at, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“Ah, the old laws that have kept this country from falling apart. To be lived and breathed by,” Jaeyun's voice carries a mix of sarcasm and despair.

“Laws that keep the rich rich and the poor poor,” you respond bitterly, your thoughts drifting back to your family and friends struggling back home.

Jaeyun's hands move up to your back, offering a reassuring rub. “I hate it too, Y/N,” he admits, his heart heavy with the weight of his people's suffering under his father's rule. He hugs you tighter, a silent reassurance of his solidarity and commitment to change, commitment to you. 

Leaning back, he strokes your face adoringly with his middle finger, “You look so delicate tonight,” his voice conveying his love for you. Even dressed in rags, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.

“More delicate than Princess Mia?” You don’t mean it to come across as bitter, yet, it does.

Jaeyun shakes his head disapprovingly, a tiny glint of amusement in his eyes, “My darling love, are you jealous?”

“She is ravishing,” you reply. Princess Mia is everything you are not, it wouldn’t be misplaced for you to be slightly envious of her. You know the Princess could have anyone she desires, and if circumstances were different in which Jaeyun wasn’t hopelessly in love with you, she could probably have him too. That information would unsettle any lover to know.

Jaeyun places a feather-light kiss on your forehead, “She doesn’t hold a flame to your light, Y/N,” he says with such genuine love that you might believe him if you weren’t clad in a spilt-on uniform and tired eyes that reflect the brutality of being a measly servant.

But Jaeyun would never see you that way.

His lips swoop down to yours, capturing you in a breathtaking kiss, planting his deal of assurance on your lips. The way his mouth is melting into your own is enough to make your knees lose their strength. Jaeyun’s thumb rubs your hips tenderly as he deepens the kiss, trying to make the taste of you last the rest of the night.

Pulling back for a breath, you recollect yourself, smiling at him happily but as you gaze into his eyes you see something sorrowful hiding behind him. It wasn’t until this moment you forgot why you even snuck away to see him in the first place.

“The King seemed displeased,” you state the obvious, hoping he will enlighten you somewhat to the reason for the private discussion.

“He is an idiot, nothing more,” he spits back, eyes avoiding yours as if he’s scared of you suddenly. You have never seen him so angry yet sullen.

Reaching your cold palm to his warm cheek, you begin to pry further, “Jaeyun-” 

Your query is cut short by his lips once again enveloping yours, the intensity of his kiss a silent plea for you to cease your questioning. It's unlike Jaeyun to keep secrets from you; usually, even the most classified information finds its way past his lips and into your ears. So naturally, his reluctance to share the details of his conversation with the King sets off alarm bells in your mind.

But as his touches grow more insistent, his lips trailing fiery kisses along your neck and his fingers daringly inching up your skirt, your thoughts become increasingly muddled. It's difficult to focus on anything other than the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours, the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

You hate that he won’t confide in you, that he's keeping you in the dark about something so significant. Yet, at this moment, you find yourself unable - and unwilling - to complain. Not when every touch, every caress, sends sparks of desire coursing through your veins.

“Jaeyun, I don’t have time,” you manage to groan out amidst a wave of pleasure, the urgency of the situation gnawing at the back of your mind. Miss Son could come looking for you at any moment, and you've already pushed your luck by leaving your duties unattended. There's simply no way you can disappear for long enough to satisfy Jaeyun's desires.

But he seems determined to ignore your protests, his fervour only intensifying as he continues to explore every inch of your body. In this stolen moment of passion, time seems to stand still, the outside world fading into insignificance as you lose yourself in the intoxicating embrace of your forbidden.

With each caress, each whispered endearment, you feel yourself falling deeper under his spell, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his affection.

But as much as you crave the blissfulness of his embrace, a nagging voice in the back of your mind reminds you of the consequences of your actions. You can't afford to be caught in such a compromising position, not when the stakes are so high and the dangers so real. Just down the hallway is a room full of people who would kill either of you for this affair.

"Jaeyun, we can't," you finally manage to gasp out, your voice tinged with desperation as you push against his chest, trying to put some distance between you. "Someone could walk in at any moment."

For a fleeting moment, Jaeyun's passion seems to falter, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. But then, with a determined glint in his eyes, he pulls you closer, his lips claiming yours in a desperate kiss.

"I don't care," he whispers against your lips, his voice husky with desire. "I need you, Y/N. Now more than ever."

The tone of his voice dings your attention, it’s pleading and needy which would be normal if his words didn’t waver, lip quivering slightly. The conversation with his father had affected him more than you know, and he dared not confess what it was regarding.

With a sense of urgency in his veins, Jaeyun hoists you onto the desk, his hands promptly pushing your skirt up and yanking down your underwear, revealing your core to him in all its delicious glory. His breath stops in his throat at the sight, and his need for you becomes stronger than ever.

He licks his lips hungrily, wishing he could taste you, savouring the wetness that gleams between your thighs like morning dew. He wants to drink you in and lose himself in your folds.

But time is not on his side, he knows this, nonetheless, the throbbing between his thighs, the thumping want for release, is too strong to ignore. He was so desperate for you to suck in his cock with your heat, he didn’t think he had the restraint to wait for it any longer.

His need for you is mirrored in your face and body as you edge yourself closer to the end of the desk, spreading your legs as he undoes his ivory dress trousers and lets his shaft spring free of its constraint.

“Can I please?” he asks softly but with urgency, the tip of his member already primed to enter you, the question just a matter of formality at this point.

“Please, Jaeyun, have me,” you whisper into his mouth and with a low groan of need, Jaeyun surrenders to his instincts, his desire overwhelming as he slips inside you with effortless ease. No matter how many times he makes love to you, the sensation of being so intimately connected to you never fails to amaze him. It's as if you were made perfectly for each other, two souls destined to intertwine. He thanks God every day for bringing you to his side. 

His thrusts are pointed, to make this quick while also giving you both the release you desperately needed. Your tight pussy grasps every inch of him deliciously, accommodating his size yet giving him just enough resistance to squeeze the tip of his cock.

Gripping his shoulders tightly, you anchor yourself to him as he picks up the pace, his movements becoming more frantic with each passing moment. You moan loudly through your bitten lips, trying your hardest to stay quiet; he was pounding into you so good you just can’t help the noises leaving your mouth, completely rending you dumb to his touch.

The sound of your gasps and mewls fills the air, a symphony of pleasure that drives Jaeyun wild with desire. Each cry, each whimper, only serves to fuel his drive, pushing him further into the depths of ecstasy as he loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together as one. 

Arching your back leaves the nape of your neck exposed, inviting Jaeyun to sink into it with his teeth, easily leaving a red mark. It’s the first time he has ever done something like this, to leave physical marks on your body that aren’t the bruises from his tight grip; those were easy to hide, but this one wouldn’t be.

“Ah, Jaeyun, what are you doing?” your bated breath whisps past his ear yet he doesn’t hear you, lost in the feeling of fucking you silly. He sucks and licks at the base of your throat, possessed by his need to claim you as his.

“My love,” he brings his face up to lock your eyes together once more, his cock hammering into you still with force, “Tell me you'll be mine forever," he begs, his words hanging in the air between you like an urgent vow. The intensity of his stare and the sheer emotion in his speech leave you breathless, your heart racing in your chest as you try to find the words to answer.

Tears fill his lashline, and his eyes are unexpectedly vulnerable. In that moment, you can see the depth of his love for you and also his sudden fear that he might lose you. The sudden change in emotion takes you by surprise, your Jaeyun who is usually confident and strong in moments like this is now yearning for confirmation of your love.

"Yes, Jaeyun," you say, your voice barely audible as you completely yield to him, "I'll be yours forever,” It’s a truthful answer, the only one who you can see yourself being with for the rest of your life, long or short, is him. Your Prince Jaeyun.

He shakes his head and screws his eyes shut, seemingly shaking his internal thoughts out of his brain to make way for your reassuring ones. “I can’t lose you, my love. I can’t…I won’t,” he rambles, the rhythm of his thrusts depleting, signifying that he’s close to the edge.

To distract him from his inner monologue, you cradle his face, kissing all over his lips and cheeks. If you can do one thing for him, it’s to instil in him the fact that you will always be his love, until death do you part.

“Y/N, my sweet love,” he whispers sadly, “Don’t let me go,” his plea is muffled by his lips kissing your palms. 

You have no idea what could cause this sudden cast of doubt in his mind.

Jaeyun’s right hand moves to your sensitive nub, circling it with his thumb as he tries to coax you to completion. His hips buck sloppily, overwhelmed with the raw emotion and need to cum inside of you. 

The bubbling heat between your tummy and pussy consumes you, the climax Jaeyun has worked so hard out of you finally spilling over his shaft and down yourself. Your legs shake violently as he continues to rub your clit in earnest. 

The way your body contracts and walls clench around him also sends him to the brink, his seed filling you up quickly, each spurt dripping down your canal and onto your inner garments. The Prince keeps himself stuffed inside you as he pants, unsure of when he will finally be done.

Resting his head on your shoulder, he breathes out softly, trying to calm his panting and heart rate down. He knows he shouldn’t have asked you to stay with him forever, to promise to love him for eternity, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to hear it almost more than he needed to find his release. 

With a final kiss on your lips, he removes himself from you, retrieving his handkerchief from his pocket to catch the cum falling from you. While he does so, you can see his mind shouting so loud you could almost hear it, or maybe it was just because you are both so attuned to one another.

You have to find out what is happening and why he is acting so strangely.

As Jaeyun tucks himself back in and discards his handkerchief, you watch him closely, your heart heavy with concern. There's a weight in the air, a silent tension that hangs between you like a thick fog, and you can't help but feel the ache of his unspoken fears.

Jumping off the desk, you fix your underwear and approach him slowly, your movements deliberate as you reach out to straighten his jacket. Your touch is gentle, “Please, Jaeyun,” you implore softly, your voice barely a whisper as you search his eyes for answers, "Let me in. What are your worries?"

But Jaeyun remains silent, his gaze averted as he avoids your questioning eyes. You can see the pain etched into every line of his face, the fear and uncertainty that threaten to consume him whole. And yet, he can't bring himself to speak the words that weigh so heavily on his soul, scared that if he does. It’ll all be too real.

You can sense his hesitation, his reluctance to confront the truth that lies buried deep within him. But you refuse to give up, determined to stand by his side no matter what challenges may come your way.

Gently, you place a hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze to meet yours as you speak from the depths of your heart. "Jaeyun," you whisper, your voice filled with love and understanding. "You don't have to face this alone. Whatever it is, we'll face it together. I promise."

“That’s just the thing, Y/N,” he begins, voice trembling, “the King has put me in a predicament I cannot get out of,” he leans into your touch, craving your comfort.

Tilting your head, you stroke your thumb over the flushed apple of his cheeks, “What are you talking about?” you ask nervously.

Swallowing the thickness of his turmoil, he speaks lowly, “He has arranged my marriage to Princess Mia of Lethamhill.”

As Jaeyun reveals the truth of his arranged marriage to Princess Mia of Lethamhill, a heavy silence descends upon the room. Your heart sinks at the revelation, a knot of pain and disappointment tightening in your chest. This isn't the news you wanted to hear, the realisation crashing down on you like a wave of icy water.

"Oh..." The word escapes your lips, your mind reeling with the implications of Jaeyun's confession. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the knowledge that your secret love is soon belong to another, bound by duty and obligation.

Retracting your hand from his face, you take a step back, the distance between you a painful reminder of the barriers between you. But before you can retreat any further, Jaeyun reaches out to stop you, his eyes pleading for your understanding.

“My beautiful girl, I told him no,” he implores desperately, hoping you don’t think that he didn’t fight against this preposterous idea, “How could I ever marry her when my true love is already by my side?”

His words offer you a sense of relief, however, you know the King wouldn’t let him away with a simple ‘no’ in regards to this marriage, “I surmise he did not take it well?” 

"Of course, he didn't," Jaeyun's voice is bitter and cold, his body tensing as he recalls the conversation with his father. "If I do not marry her, the proposed treaty between our kingdoms will be broken, and there will be conflict."

He was the glue to bond the kingdoms, it was all on him to marry this woman he didn’t know in the name of unification. He is being used as a pawn in this game of power and manipulation and it makes you wonder whether Princess Mia is also going through the same distress, although, with how she was groping Jaeyun earlier, you doubt it.

“A conflict, you mean a war?” you dare ask.

He nods shallowly, remorse etched in his features, “And our King has made it perfectly clear that I will be on the front line.”

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, the pain of it like a dagger to your chest. How could the King do this to Jaeyun, to offer him up as a sacrificial lamb in a game of politics and manipulation? It's cruel, it's unjust, and it's utterly heartbreaking.

"Your father cannot do that," you say slowly, your mind reeling with the enormity of the situation. "It's... it's unthinkable."

But Jaeyun shakes his head, his expression filled with bitterness and resentment. "That man is no father of mine," he declares, his voice filled with anger and defiance.

Opposite to his anger is your sadness, eyes leaking salty tears at the thought of losing your love. No matter the choice Jaeyun makes, he will never be yours. That is something you should have known from the beginning of your relationship.

You and him can never live in love or peace, it will always end in heartache and loss.

The Prince sees your sobs and pulls you in, circling his arms around you tightly, “My love, please don’t shed tears, I hate to see you cry like this.” he mutters into your hair, kissing the crown of your head gently. 

But how could you not cry? You’ve just in this instant lost the love of your life. 

The room is so silent all you can hear is the raucous laughter and music echoing from the grand hall. It gives you the opportunity to think about how the war would pause all laughter for every citizen of Glengyre, how the only sound you will hear is guns and screams of those desperately seeking escape and safety. You cannot allow that to happen.

“Marry her.”

“Excuse me?” Jaeyun pulls away, disgusted that you would even dream of proposing such an idea. He was yours and only yours, he wouldn’t even dream of lying with another.

You know that you must make him see reason, that there may be no other choice if you are to prevent the looming catastrophe that threatens to tear your world apart.

"It is the only noble thing to do, Jaeyun," you insist, your voice trembling with emotion, "We cannot allow our love to stand in the way of peace, of saving those people from the horrors of war. If marrying Princess Mia is what it takes to prevent bloodshed, then it is a sacrifice we must make.”

He doesn’t register your words, only hearing his heartbreak at the thought of you not being by his side, “But I will lose you, it will be impossible to be together if I marry her,” he begs you with his eyes to change your mind.

“You will lose me either way, Jaeyun,” you release yourself from his grasp, taking a step back to create the inevitable distance that is about to become your reality, “The people of this kingdom need you, Jaeyun. You are the only one that can make a difference to those less fortunate,” you begin, your eyes locked onto him as you portray the seriousness of your words, “If you go to war then there is a certainty you will die and you are no use to the cause of change if you are dead.”

The words get stuck in your throat, the idea of uttering such horror makes you feel sick to your stomach but the lives of hundreds must take priority over your love, no matter how painful.

"But-" he begins, his voice tinged with desperation.

"You cannot be selfish, Jaeyun," you interrupt firmly, your gaze unwavering as you meet his eyes. "I couldn't look at you the same if you sacrificed the welfare of our people for the sake of our love."

The truth of your words lands heavily between you, a painful reminder of the sacrifices that must be made in the name of duty and honour. And though your heart may ache with the prospect of losing him, you know that it is a sacrifice you must be willing to make.

Jaeyun ponders your words, recognising that you are correct: his people are his primary concern. He wishes he could do more to keep your relationship alive, to make you his Queen. As he stands before you, staring at you with loving eyes, he wishes you were the ruler of Glengyre, for your qualities and ideals already shine as if you are.

Suddenly, the bellow of your name echoes the castle halls, Miss Son shouting erratically to find you. It brings Jaeyun to realise that his fantasies of you being his queen are just that - fantasies.

Clasping your face in his big hands, he shakes his head, signifying his defiance to the idea but succumbing to his duties, accepting this fate, “I will always love you, and I will do everything in my power to make it back to you. Even if it’s in another lifetime,” he whispers the words onto your face, sealing them with a final kiss, his tongue now craving to remember you for a lifetime, rather than just a night.

You curtly nod, trying to bottle the emotions you are feeling, scared that if even one drop overflows, you will take back everything you have just said, sacrificing the people you love for the man you love. You could never win in this situation, and neither could Jaeyun.

“I love you too, my sweetheart,” you confess for the last time.

Miss Son’s footprints are right outside the door, putting your own feet into action as you leave Jaeyun to return to your post as a maid, the delusions that you could ever be with Jaeyun for a lifetime are crumbling away with each patter of your feet on the marble floor.

“Ah, there you are! What on earth are you doing in the Council Chamber?” she shouts at you while still being mindful of the guests only a hallway away. 

You bow, offering no explanation and slip back into your role, smoothing yourself down to seem presentable. The togetherness of your exterior is the complete opposite of the shattering of your interior, your heart shattered in fragments as you stand back, overlooking the people you made an eternal sacrifice for. And none of them would ever care. The promise you made to love Jaeyun forever is the only peace of your heart left in place.

Jaeyun comes back into the hall a few moments later, poised and stoic, the only change in his face is when he looks at his father with an angry glare and a nod to follow, much to the delight of the King.

Abruptly, the King stands, “Ladies and Gentlemen, my esteemed guests. I have some exciting news to share!”

[dollishbabess]

HOW BATBOYS WOULD REACT WHEN YOU GET CATCALLED (IF YOU FOUGHT BACK OR DIDNT) - dollish

A/n: As someone who got a NAKED GUY chase them in Central Park once,it’s same to say I don’t go out at night and I have my reasons 😭😭 idk if you guys want a story time though (it’s in replies of comments)

Second divider @cafekitsune

Dick grayson:

If you fought back first:

Surprise and Concern Dick would be taken aback by your sudden action. “Whoa! I didn’t expect you to do that!” He’d rush in, concerned about your safety and the potential repercussions of your actions.

Supportive Reaction After the initial surprise, he’d be impressed by your boldness. “I admire the courage, but let me handle this next time. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Talk it Out He’d want to discuss what happened afterward, emphasizing that while he respects your willingness to stand up for yourself, he’d prefer to ensure your safety first. “You didn’t have to take matters into your own hands; I’m here for that.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Protective Instinct Dick’s protective nature would kick in immediately. He’d likely step in without hesitation, using both charm and assertiveness to diffuse the situation. “Hey! Back off!” Which surprisingly he doesn’t do physically fights as dick grayson but used to when he was younger.

Non-Violent Approach While he might be ready to fight if necessary, he’d prefer to use his words first. He’d try to make the perpetrators feel ashamed or embarrassed instead of escalating to violence.

Check-In Afterward, he’d check in with you to ensure you’re okay, offering support and reassurance. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Are you alright?” Would check you for any sign of discomfort or emotional distress.

Jason Todd:

If you fought back first:

Immediate Approval (YUHH THATS MY GIRLL) Jason would likely be thrilled by your boldness. “Damn, that was awesome!” He’d appreciate your willingness to fight back against disrespect and might find it incredibly attractive.

Reinforcing Behavior He’d stand beside you, ready to support you in case things escalated further. “I’ve got your back; let’s show them what we can do together.”

Post-Fight Confidence Afterward, he’d be all about boosting your confidence. “You didn’t back down. That’s badass. Just remember, you’re not alone in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Rage Jason would likely be furious upon witnessing the situation. His protective instincts would lead him to confront the catcallers aggressively. “You think you can just touch her like that? Get the hell away!” Would be so ready to pop a jaw out of place.

Fight Ready He wouldn’t hesitate to escalate to violence if the catcallers didn’t back off in a nano second, his past experiences fueling his anger towards disrespect since he grew up in the streets he’s seen how violent men are towards woman.

Aftermath Support Once it’s resolved, he’d focus on you, ensuring you feel safe and respected. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. You deserve better, let’s go home.” He’d say a bit annoyed but definitely mood wrecked and definitely made sure you saw stars that night.

Tim Drake:

If you fought back first:

Shock and Support (Like girl, you just did that?) Tim would be shocked at first, watching you throw the punch. “Whoa!” His concern for your safety would come first.

Strategic Thinking After the punch, he’d quickly assess the situation and help you strategize. “That was a bold move! But maybe next time we should come up with a plan together?”

Validation He’d validate your feelings and support your actions, understanding your need to stand up for yourself. “I get why you did that; nobody should have to deal with harassment. Just be careful!”

If you didn’t fight back:

Quick Analysis Tim would assess the situation quickly, evaluating how best to handle it. He might initially react with shock before stepping in.

Calm Confrontation He would confront the catcallers with a calm demeanor, using logic and authority to demand they stop. “That’s not cool; you need to leave her alone.”

Protective Move If the situation escalated, he wouldn’t shy away from physical confrontation, but he’d also prioritize your safety and try to de-escalate things first.

Supportive Afterwards Afterward, he’d want to talk about what happened, ensuring you feel heard and validated. “Are you okay? I can’t believe they thought that was okay.”

Damian Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Impressed but Concerned (BRO’S THROWING HANDS W YOU) Damian would be impressed by your courage but also worried about the consequences. “That was… unexpected. Are you certain you wish to engage in a fight?”

Protective Instinct He’d immediately stand next to you, ready to back you up if needed. “If they retaliate, I will not hesitate to defend you.”

Ownership of the Situation After the incident, he’d likely want to ensure you felt validated. “Your actions were brave, but remember that you must also consider your safety in these situations.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Immediate Intervention Damian would react with a sense of urgency, feeling that your honor was being challenged. He’d step in swiftly, ready to confront the aggressors. “How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Defensive and Fierce His fighting style would be aggressive, and he wouldn’t hesitate to take action if they didn’t back down. He views such disrespect as an affront not only to you but also to himself (he should be on baddies atp)

Possessive Nature After the confrontation, he’d likely be very protective, wanting to ensure you feel safe. “You should not have to endure such disrespect. Stay close to me next time.”

Bruce Wayne:

If you fought back first:

Initial Shock Bruce would be initially shocked by your reaction. “Y/N what are you doing!?!” He’d be concerned about the possible repercussions of such actions in a civilian setting.

Protective Reaction He’d quickly assess the situation, ready to step in if things escalated. “Let’s not make a scene. I’ll handle this.”

Serious Conversation Afterward, he’d want to have a serious conversation about your actions. “While I respect your need to stand up for yourself, it’s important to think about the consequences. Your safety matters most to me.”

If you didn’t fight back:

Calculated Response Bruce would remain calm and collected, assessing the situation before acting. He’d approach the catcallers with an air of authority, making it clear they need to back off.

Verbal Confrontation He might use his intimidating presence and voice to confront them. “You’re making her uncomfortable. Leave now, or you’ll regret it.”

Prepared for Escalation If they didn’t comply, he’d be ready to fight, using his combat skills effectively.

Caring Aftermath Once it’s over, he’d turn his attention to you, offering support and reassurance. “Are you alright? Let’s get you somewhere safe.” And would try to take your mind off it in any way he could.

Tbh all of them would fight for you, just some of them don’t throw hands first especially tim and Bruce.

This is for awareness purposes, thousands of women today around the world have to go through this and worse thousands of women and young girls and minors are being assaulted today, please teach and make a difference for the world today it could be anyone, your mother, sister, daughter, cousin, aunt, grandma etc.

[ahsxual]

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader where they are dating but the readers parents hate him so one night are 2:33 am Stu knocks on the readers window and she opens it it tells him to leave but before she can get a word out Stu is kissing her and telling her how much he misses her and one thing lead to, and so Stu had to push the readers head into her pillow so she didn’t wake anyone.

Sorry if the store request does not make any sense i’ve been wanting to request something from you for a while and this idea kinda came to my brain as I was falling asleep at four in the morning so I am very sleep deprived lol anyways I love your story. I hope you have a great day

Surprise Baby

Genre: Fluff & Smut

Warnings: +18 content, clingy and soft Stu, dirty talk, degrading, cursing, dom!Stu, p in v (w/o protection), sad Stu at the end (reader comforts him)

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: This was actually a very interesting request and Ik very well that our daydreams before we sleep are the best 🤭 I added something to the plot at the end, so I hope you still like it! Tysm, I'm so glad you like my writing! It always feels so gratifying whenever you guys tell me that &lt;33

Right now you're lying on your bed crying, while hugging your favorite bunny plush that Stu gave you for Valentine's Day. You'd just had an argument with your parents, since they weren't the biggest fans and supporters of your relationship with your boyfriend Stu Macher. You didn't understand why they didn't like him and didn't even make an effort to, even though Stu always made you happy and made your life more colorful and enjoyable from the moment you met him. Of course Stu had his flaws like everyone else, since perfection is impossible to achieve and that was fine by you. But not for your parents. They said that Stu distracted you from school, that he "lived" for parties and didn't give you your "precious" time to concentrate on your studies, because he always took you on dates so that he could spend more time with you, even when you said you were busy.

You perfectly knew that Stu wasn't a guy who would take "no" for an answer. Maybe it was because he'd always been spoiled by his parents and didn't understand the meaning of that word? Maybe he hated the fact that you would say "no" to him, because if you truly love him as you always say, why would you reject an opportunity to go out with him? Both answers to those questions are probably correct, because you knew that Stu didn't know how to respect your personal space either, not that you minded anyway. But your parents did and that was the problem. They even told you once that Stu was obsessed with you and that your personal life has also become his, as if it were his property. Maybe they were right about that, but that's how Stu showed how much he loved and cared for you and it always worked well in your relationship. And you really missed him.

Sleep didn't want to make its presence known, so you decided to watch your favorite show on your new tv. However, you still couldn't stop thinking about the argument with your parents. Of course you defended your boyfriend and were always on his side to protect him against anyone, even your own parents, but it did made you very upset... all you wanted was for your family to see how genuinely happy Stu makes you feel, how he always admired you and treated you as if you were the only woman to walk on earth and how he's so funny that it's practically impossible not to laugh because of some silly joke he's made until your cheeks hurt. You just wished your family accepted him and loved him as much as you did...

Your thoughts were suddenly interrupted when you heard your window being knocked on repeatedly. You screamed for a second, because you weren't expecting that to happen in the middle of the cold night. Nevertheless, you immediately felt relieved when you saw Stu standing there with his puppy eyes and big smile on his handsome face you loved so much. A wide smile appeared on your face the moment you realized your boyfriend wanted to surprise you and that he had actually made an effort to see you.

His giant body barely fit through your window and the way he clumsily tried to get into your room, like a cartoon thief, made you laugh until your belly started to get sore.

"Baby, what are you doing?? It's cold outside!" you asked worriedly, before you watched him fall face down on the floor as he let out an "ouch". You couldn't stop laughing at his poor attempt to sneak into your room, as he already knew that your parents would never let him in, especially so late at night. You looked over your bedside table, where your alarm clock was, to see what time it was, as it marked 2:33 am.

"Surprisee baby!" he shouted excitedly, with a contagious smile that didn't leave his face for a moment. His breathing was accelerated, which made you realize he had some trouble climbing up to your window. You felt your heart warming at his romantic gesture, yet you didn't want your parents to find out and kick him out of your house or worse.

"Be quiet babe, you're not supposed to be here! You need to leave Stu, my parents are gonna ki-" you were really worried about your boyfriend's safety, but Stu didn't give you a chance to finish your sentence, as he grabbed you firmly around your waist and began kissing you passionately with his long, skilled tongue. His hands were all over your body and his grip was tight, not allowing you to move away from him.

"Shh- don't worry about them. It's just us now. I've missed you so much, baby." he admitted, before kissing your neck eagerly. When he he'd had enough, he pulled you up by your hips and laid you down on your bed, his mouth never leaving yours. You couldn't help moaning as you felt his sweet, loving assaults on your body, his lips and big hands making you melt into his addictive touch.

"Love, we have to be quiet... and you're making it hard for me." by now you were feeling breathless, unable to contain your desire for your horny and needy boyfriend. Instinctively, you rubbed against Stu's crotch which made him groan in pleasure, as you could feel him already hard under his jeans. He began to gently pinch your nipples through the fabric of your short pajama top, enjoying and closely analyzing your reactions to his teasing touch.

"Looks like I have to shut you up so we don't get caught, baby..." the last thing you saw was a mischievous grin on your boyfriend's face, before he firmly turned you around so that you were on all fours for him. He pressed his erection against your ass, while his eyes rolled back as he put his head back from the stimulation and his mouth was slightly open. You were starting to enjoy this game way too much, to see who couldn't hold back their moans, and you made sure you would win this battle. You pushed your ass against him and started rolling your hips in a provocative way, knowing that Stu wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. He bit his lips at this and frowned, realizing what you were trying to do to him.

"My girl really wants to get some, huh? You wanna play dirty, doll? Do you really think you can win this game against me?" he laughed trying to mock you, making you feel pathetic if you really thought you could stay quiet with the way he was about to fuck you.

"Just fuck me already Stu, I can't hold it much longer..." you quickly gave up and decided to beg him for mercy, so you could feel him inside you for once. You were dripping by now and the thought of having to keep quiet so no one would catch you at such a vulnerable and intimate moment turned you on even more for some reason.

You finally felt him give you want you wanted, since Stu himself wasn't a very self-controlled guy when it came to you. You felt his tongue lick a long, firm strip from your throbbing clit to your pulsing, empty hole. This made you grip your pillow as hard as you could while he ate you out from behind. Unfortunately, it didn't last much longer like you'd hoped, as you didn't realize how horny and impatient Stu was feeling that night. Suddenly, you felt his fully erect cock enter you without any resistance, sliding easily into you because you were so wet with your cum and his saliva. He didn't give you any time to adjust to him as he usually did and started pounding you hard and fast. He knew you all too well, so he pushed your face against your pillow to prevent any sound coming out of your pretty mouth and kept his strong hand on your head. You prayed that no one would hear you both fucking like horny teenagers who can't control their sexual hormones. It wasn't your fault that you and Stu were so fucking attracted to each other and that your shared love was considered obsessive, right?

"You like that, don't you babygirl? You love it when I fuck you like this... You needy slut, can't get enough of your boyfriend's cock inside your tight hole. I bet your parents would be so embarrassed if they saw you getting fucked this good." he whispered in your ear before changing his angle to fuck you deeper. Wet sounds, your muffled moans and his heavy breathing were the only sounds being heard in your room, turning you both on even more. It didn't last much longer when you both came at the same time, since Stu was way too horny to hold his orgasm. He was so glad he'd made you cum before he climaxed inside you.

After the moment of ecstasy you both experienced, you lay there trying to catch your breath while staring at the ceiling. It was then that Stu pulled you closer to him and hid his face on your neck, clinging to you more than usual. He was acting way too needy and clingy, and wasn't trying to be the "dominant" one, which made you worry about him.

"Are you ok, love? Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked him softly as you caressed his hair and cheeks. You knew him too well to recognize whenever he wasn't feeling good, even when he was trying to hide it.

"My girl knows me so well." he chuckled weakly, trying to find the right words to tell you what was had been bothering him. After a moment of silence in which you tried to comfort him with your tender touches, he finally spoke. "My parents won't be able to make it for my birthday. Again." your heart ached for him, because you knew this problem had happened before. Although Stu's parents loved him and treated him right, they had never been very present throughout his life and that took a tool on his emotional behavior. That explained why he was so addicted to your attention and wanted you all to himself, all the time. It made you really sad that you couldn't help your boyfriend properly, because the presence of anyone's parents is irreplaceable.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, baby. I'm sure they're extremely busy with work and that's the only reason for their absence on such a special day. We both know that they love you and I'll be there for you to make sure you have the biggest party ever." you gently grabbed his face and smiled warmly at him, admiring his ocean eyes that reminded you of the maldivian water, as he stared back at you with pure love.

"I know you will. What would I do without you? You're the love of my life, you know that right?" you chuckled as you softly kissed his cute nose.

"I love you too, Stu... so much. You have no idea of how much love I have for you and no one ever will."

[pastryfication]

Maybe pre wedding jitters with Nicole? She kind of steps in as your own mom for the day and reassures you that you're right for Oscar?

pre wedding jitters

pairing: oscar piastri x reader note: thank you so much for requesting this!! nicole would absolutely be the best mother in law

the soft morning light spills through the delicate curtains of the bridal suite, casting a warm glow over the room. you stand in front of the mirror, taking in your reflection in the dress you spent months dreaming about. the lace hugs your figure perfectly, the silk skirt flowing around you just as it’s supposed to. it’s everything you wanted, yet as you stand there, it all feels so overwhelming. today, you’re marrying oscar piastri—the man who’s been your best friend, your rock, and your biggest supporter for the last years.

but as the moments tick by, nerves begin to creep in. your heart races, your hands feel clammy, and suddenly, the reality of it all starts to weigh on you. you stare at your reflection, fidgeting with the delicate necklace oscar gave you on your last anniversary, feeling a wave of doubt you can’t quite shake.

the door creaks open softly, and you expect to see your mom or one of your bridesmaids, but instead, it’s nicole, oscar’s mom. she steps inside quietly, her face lighting up the moment she sees you. she’s always been more than just oscar’s mom to you—she’s been someone you’ve looked up to, someone who welcomed you into the family with open arms from the very start.

she immediately picks up on your nerves, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands and staring at yourself with uncertainty. she crosses the room, her steps quick and purposeful, and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “hey, you look absolutely stunning,” she says softly, her voice full of warmth. “oscar is going to lose his mind when he sees you.”

you smile, but it’s wobbly, and you can feel the tears threatening to spill. “thank you, nicole. i’m just... i don’t know why i’m so nervous. i’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now that it’s here, i’m suddenly terrified.”

nicole guides you to the chair by the window, sitting down beside you and holding your hand tightly in hers. “sweetheart, it’s completely normal to feel like this. this is a huge moment, and it’s okay to have a little freak-out.”

you nod, looking down at your lap. “i just keep thinking... what if i’m not enough? what if something goes wrong today, or what if—” you pause, the words getting stuck in your throat. “i love him so much. i just want everything to be perfect for him.”

nicole’s expression softens, and she squeezes your hand, her grip both comforting and strong. “you are more than enough. oscar has loved you since the moment he met you. i’ve never seen him light up the way he does when you’re around. you bring out this side of him that’s so pure, so full of joy. he’s happier, calmer, and more himself with you than i’ve ever seen him.”

she looks at you with a fond smile, her eyes brimming with affection. “i remember him calling me after your first date—he couldn’t stop talking about you. he’d found this person who got him, who made him laugh, who understood him in a way no one else ever had. and it wasn’t just how much fun you had together, it was how deeply he respected you, how much he admired the way you saw the world. he told me then, ‘mum, she’s the one,’ and he meant it with every part of his heart.”

tears slip down your cheeks as you listen, overwhelmed by the love nicole’s words carry. you always knew oscar loved you, but hearing it like this, from his mother, makes it feel even more real.

“and it’s not just that he loves you,” nicole continues, her voice full of certainty. “he’s proud of you. every time you accomplish something, he’s right there cheering you on, bragging to anyone who will listen. when you’re sad, he’s the first to comfort you. when you’re happy, his whole world lights up. he would do anything for you, and you would do the same for him. i don’t think he’s ever been surer of anything in his life than wanting to spend it with you.”

you take a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of nicole’s words seep into your heart. “i just . . . i can’t believe i get to have this. i can’t believe i get to have him.”

nicole smiles, brushing a tear from your cheek. “believe it, because he feels the same way. you’re his world. and today, when he sees you walking down that aisle, he’s going to be reminded of every reason why he fell in love with you. you make each other better, and everyone can see it.”

you laugh softly, a mixture of nerves and overwhelming happiness. “i feel like the luckiest person in the world.”

nicole pulls you into a hug, holding you tightly. “you two are so right for each other, and i’m so glad you found each other. this is just the start of a beautiful life together.”

as you pull away, nicole gives you a reassuring smile. “oscar is the luckiest man, and he knows it. he’s never loved anyone the way he loves you, and he never will. you’re his person.”

and as you look at yourself in the mirror one last time, the nerves are still there, but they’re quieter now, overshadowed by the joy of knowing you’re marrying a man who loves you more deeply than you ever thought possible. today is the day you get to say ‘i do’ to your best friend, and as you walk out of the room, you know you’re walking toward the greatest adventure of your life—with oscar by your side, forever and ever and always.

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ BLACK CAT X GOLDEN RETRIEVER ENERGY ~ OTP PROMPTS

requested by: @moondrop-gummies request: Can you do grumpy sunshine where she’s the grumpy but doesn’t believe she can be loved and he’s the sunshine who treats her like she’s the best thing in his life and they’re roommates? Thank you in advance! 🎀

Feel free to use and reblog!

Part 1: ~ GRUMPY X SUNSHINE ~ PROMPTS

grumpy being unable to accept anything kind that sunshine tries to do for them

sunshine just admiring anything grumpy does

sunshine staying at home despite being invited elsewhere just to spend more time with grumpy

sunshine doing the things around the house that grumpy dreads doing

grumpy being snarky about the nice things sunshine does but they both know grumpy is actually enjoying them

sunshine having endless patience with grumpy because they know/hope that they'll come around eventually

sunshine making sure to tell grumpy that they deserve the world

grumpy warming up to sunshine and being in a bright mood in sunshine's company

grumpy being patient with sunshine and listening to their long, colourful stories but that's the least they can do when sunshine does everything for them

grumpy's love language is telling sunshine that they deserve more (than grumpy could ever give them)

sunshine's love language is showering grumpy with affection until grumpy snaps

grumpy trying to push sunshine away to guard themselves from developing serious feelings

grumpy hyping sunshine up when they find out that sunshine has a crush, not knowing that it's them

^ and immediately changing course when they find out (because sunshine shouldn't throw their love away on someone as undeserving as grumpy)

sunshine not paying any mind to grumpy's self-depricating rants and just keeping up their high level of affection and warmth

grumpy being able to let their guard down and accept the love because of sunshine's unconditional and unwavering support

grumpy 'you're an idiot to choose me' & sunshine 'I would be that idiot in any universe and you love it'

grumpy being seriously worried about sunshine having developed feelings for grumpy ("you can't be sane. you should see a doctor.")

grumpy being the biggest sunshine stan but they adore them too much to be willing to expose them to the madness that means grumpy

sunshine doing everything with grumpy that want but nothing more and nothing less because they know how important it is to respect grumpy's boundaries

[etrsilk]

Could you do Main4 x reader of Y/n wearing a bikini and what their first thoughts are when they first see her!!

www.masterlist.here

₊✩‧₊˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ⇝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚𝙨: 𝘒𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘢,𝘎𝘰𝘯,𝘒𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘬𝘢,𝘓𝘦𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 — ✘

˗ˏˋ ➛ 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘦

⎝ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚:: I really like this request! ✧( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

↬ Killua & Gon is 18 here!!

 —𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

❀ Killua would by far be the one who would blush and be the most embarrassed of all, fighting with himself not to look at your chest or ass.

❀ Without even realizing it, he let out a small “wow,” covering his mouth as if to contain his awe.

❀ If you find yourselves alone and you make a teasing remark about how he’s been acting since you started wearing a bikini, he might respond with a little joke or a sincere compliment, all while averting his gaze slightly to hide his embarrassment.

❀ After the 1999 version, we all know that Killua has a bit of a perverted side. So, it’s no surprise that his initial thoughts were influenced by how perfectly your curves looked and how completely crazy you made him with your sexy appearance.

 —𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐊𝐀ꫂ ၴႅၴ

❀ He would be almost as embarrassed as Killua, but with a sudden blush that would appear on his cheeks, like a touch of shy surprise.

❀ He would shower you with compliments, a lot of them. Not with sexual remarks or anything inappropriate, but with the cute, heartfelt things he genuinely thinks when he sees you. You, his girlfriend with a goddess-like figure, stirring in him sincere and tender admiration.

❀ There might be a few slightly naughty thoughts that cross his mind, but he would choose to ignore them. Out of respect for you, he would prefer not to focus on the sexual aspect of your appearance, choosing instead to appreciate the pure and natural beauty of your presence.

❀ Whether through his compliments or his general behavior, he would always make sure to be respectful and polite, avoiding any vulgarity. This would often mean him trying to look elsewhere, focusing on what’s happening around him, like the children or the details of the surroundings, to maintain an atmosphere of respect and delicacy.

 —𝐆𝐎𝐍ꫂ ၴႅၴ

❀ When Gon sees you for the first time, his immediate thought would be how incredibly beautiful you are. No matter your exact appearance, he would be certain that you are stunning.

❀ He wasn't at all expecting to see you in such a light outfit; he had imagined you would at least be wearing a one-piece swimsuit. So, he was genuinely surprised!

❀ But after that initial shock, he didn't even try to hide his somewhat goofy and mischievous smile. He looking at you, your chest, your butt, or your body in general. Maybe out of curiosity, or just because he likes it... he couldn't stop showering you with compliments, clearly delighted by your presence.

❀ I don't think Gon's first thoughts would necessarily be perverted or sexual.

❀ However, being a teenager going through puberty, he wouldn't be able to help but observe. But After all, he will have time to discover your whole body in one day...in another context...

 —𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎ꫂ ၴႅၴ

❀ He will look at you as if he’s seeing a true goddess!

❀ Given that Leorio is quite openly flirtatious, it’s natural that his initial thoughts might be somewhat risqué. However, despite these bold thoughts, he will be so mesmerized by the sight of your beauty that he won’t be able to help showering you with sincere and enthusiastic compliments.

❀ It might surprise some, but Leorio isn’t the type to openly express his more lascivious thoughts. Even though his mind might wander to more suggestive ideas, he’s unlikely to voice them out loud. Therefore, he will definitely shower you with a significant number of compliments, some of which might be mildly suggestive but never truly vulgar.

❀ (He will always deliver these compliments while scratching his head and averting his gaze, as if trying to hide his embarrassment.)

❀ However, I can’t promise that he will show the same restraint once you’re alone together… It’s possible that you might catch him occasionally admiring your chest, because, after all, it’s still Leorio we’re talking about!

—English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistakes!!

[luvsupa]

“WE’RE ENGAGED!”

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to almost lovers to enemies (☹️), bully!gojo, gojo gets jealous/ he’s confusing again, love (ish)-hate relationship, ANGST, royalty, arranged marriage, forbidden love, lots of tension, kissing, cheating (guys don’t ever cheat) idk what to add..

w.c: 3.0k (🫨)

a/n: thank you guys for the support! 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏽 + likes and reblogs are appreciative!

prince gojo masterlist

cheers and applause echo in the drawing room as nanami slips a diamond ring onto your finger. your heart swells with joy at the promise of your future together. you had told nanami that this marriage would finally bring you the peace and love you’ve always longed for.

as you turn, you see your mother in tears, clinging to your father, both of them overwhelmed with emotion as they watch their daughter grow up so fast. the sight of nanami’s and gojo’s families, gazing at you with admiration, fills you with a sense of pride and belonging. even the queen herself is tearing up! but the only person who isn’t overjoyed is gojo.

he sits on the couch, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with irritation. the tension between you is beyond thick. sensing gojo's glare, nanami does the unthinkable.

with a swift motion, nanami spins you around and softly holds your face, his touch gentle and reassuring. he leans in to kiss you on the lips. you’re caught by surprise but then immediately kiss him back, the warmth of his lips melting away any doubts. you feel him smile into the kiss, a gesture that fills you with love and protection. the sudden sound of loud stomping pulls you from the kiss. you break away and turn to see gojo storming out of the room, his anger known in every step.

“awh, you two just warm my heart,” the queen says, wiping her tears away. “your engagement ball will be in a few days! the public cannot wait to see our new royal couple!” she adds, her voice filled with excitement and anticipation.

as everyone talks among themselves and you and nanami are caught up in conversation, one of the guards politely interrupts to inform the queen that an invitation has been delivered. the queen opens it, her expression turning to one of confusion.

“well, this is a surprise…” mrs. gojo says, her mind already working. “the haras are hosting a charity ball tonight. this could be good for your image.” the queen informs everyone. the haras? that name sounds familiar...

“ayana’s family is hosting a charity ball? she was always against anything involving charities,” nanami remarks.

oh. of course, ayana.

“i agree, it seems ayana may have informed her parents of your arrival. you know, your presence is greatly valued at such events,” nanami’s mother says,  handing nanami a personal invitation that reads, "to kenny," with a heart beside it. he notices you staring at the letter and quickly crumples it up, making your worries disappear.

“if you don’t wish to attend the ball, i will respect your decision,” nanami whispers into your ear, his smooth deep voice sending shivers down your back. you look up at him, trying to stay composed despite how good he looks.

“we can go. besides, who am i going to show off my ring to?” you say, both of you giggling, knowing ayana would go crazy seeing the ring he gifted you.

“you should probably go check on satoru,” nanami adds, did something happen to him? 

“it appears he didn’t take our engagement very well.” you nod at his words, giving him a peck on the lips before leaving to search for gojo.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

after what feels like hours of searching each room in the castle, you give up. gojo is nowhere to be found.

you head to your room, looking down at your ring reminded of the promised life nanami proposed with. a smile forms on your face as you enter, but you stop dead in your tracks when you see gojo sitting on your bed, reading your journal.

“why are you reading my journal?” you ask, your smile fading, anger growing. he looks up at you, irritation clear on his face as if you’ve done something to upset him.

“you know, your mattress is more comfortable than mine. i might have the servants switch it,” he says, ignoring your question and bouncing slightly on the bed to test it. “why are you even here?” you demand.

“i don’t appreciate you making my fiancée upset, especially to the point of tears,” he says, rising from the bed and walking behind you, shutting the door behind you to give you both privacy.

“fiancée? you-you proposed?” you ask, shock evident in your voice as you follow his movements around your room. “i will propose,” he says, taking a seat at your vanity desk. “her family’s event tonight will be the perfect time, don’t you think?” he says, checking himself out in the mirror. you can only nod in response.

“since she will become a princess, i expect you to treat her with kindness,” he says, looking at you through the mirror. your jaw drops at his words.

“expect me to? i’ve done my best to be kind, but all she does is the utmost evil. how dare you say that,” you reply, anger and disbelief mixing in your voice.

“you’re right, but she has shown how sorry she is. she expects a sincere apology from you,” gojo says as you walk closer, trying to see if he’s joking. “after all, you did make her cry in the garden the other day.”

“i didn’t do anything to her! 'toru, she is lying!” you protest.

“prince gojo,” he corrects. “i am not ‘'toru,’ i am prince gojo.”

you look down at him in betrayal. he’s never corrected you before, so why now?

“you’re mad because i’m marrying kento,” you say, piecing everything together. he just stares at you, unwilling to confirm your suspicion. gojo then rises from the vanity chair, looking down at you as he walks towards the door.

“it is an order to apologize to ayana,” he says, opening the door to leave. “and if i don’t?” you challenge.

“then your stay here will be cut short—any connection you have with my family will be ended,” he replies, slamming the door behind him.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

after your argument with gojo, you shake off everything and get prepared yourself in your room for the ball. nanami entered quietly, closing the door behind him. he approached you, his eyes filled with admiration and love. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“you look stunning,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck.

you turned in his arms, your hands resting on his chest. “and you look as handsome as ever,” you replied, your voice soft and affectionate.

he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, passionate kiss. the world outside faded away as you melted into his embrace, the intensity of your connection growing with each moment. his hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer, deepening the kiss.

breaking the kiss for a moment, he looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. “I cannot wait to call you my wife,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.

you smiled, your heart swelling with love. “and I can’t wait to be your wife,” you replied, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.

he kissed you again, this time more urgently, as if trying to convey all the love and passion he felt for you in that single kiss. you responded with equal desire, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him even closer.

as the kiss grew more heated, you felt the world around you blur, the only thing that mattered was the man holding you in his arms. his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of burning desire in their wake. you moaned softly, your body responding to his touch.

just as things were about to escalate, there was a knock on the door, pulling you both back to reality. you pulled away from each other, your breathing heavy and your hearts racing.

“we should head downstairs,” you said, your voice shaky.

he nodded, his eyes still dark with desire. “yes, we should,” he agreed, exiting your room leaving you with privacy. 

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

everyone gathered at the front of the castle, you waited for a few members to finish getting ready. the queen announced that the carriages were prepared, and they headed to their respective carriages. just as you and nanami were about to exit through the large double doors, a guard approached nanami with urgent news.

“do you want me to wait for you, kento?” you asked, willing to stay back and arrive late with him. he shook his head. “no, dear. i'll attend to this meeting and join you. don't worry,” he reassured you, giving you a quick peck on the lips before following his guards.

you felt a pang of sadness seeing him depart from your side.

is this what newlyweds feel like?

shaking off your thoughts, you walked towards one of the waiting carriages. thanking the guards who opened the door for you, you stepped inside. but as you did, you tripped over someone's feet and fell onto their lap. you turned to see gojo manspreading, holding onto your waist to prevent you from hitting your head on the carriage's interior.

“what the hell are you doing in my carriage?” you exclaimed, pushing his arms away and moving to sit on the opposite side.

“your carriage?” he retorted, pointing up at the gold plate engraved with "PRINCE SATORU GOJO."

oh.

quickly apologizing for your mistake, you attempted to leave the carriage, but gojo stopped you, signaling to the guards that everything was fine as they closed the door.

"don't want to ride with your husband?" gojo teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “my, my, i didn't expect you two to be fighting already.”

“no... he has an emergency meeting,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “heh, a meeting, you say? sounds like he's trying to get out of the marriage,” gojo chuckled, making you pout. as you bantered back and forth, the carriage suddenly lurched forward, taking you by surprise.

glancing out the window, you both sat in an uncomfortable silence.

“you're truly breathtaking,” gojo remarked suddenly, catching you off guard. blushing, you fiddled with your fingers, avoiding his gaze. “you look good yourself,” you managed to say, trying to deflect the compliment.

“i read what you wrote in your journal about me,” he began, causing your heart to skip a beat. "i love you too," he added, and held yourself back from repeating those words back, staring at your ring to remind yourself of the man you were soon to marry.

just as those words hung in the air, the carriage came to a sudden stop, signaling your arrival at the gala. the guards opened the door, and gojo stepped out first.

“and i am beyond furious that you're marrying him,” he said quietly before walking away, leaving you feeling guilty.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you entered the grand ballroom, filled with guests in beautiful silk gowns and the beautiful melody of a familiar orchestra, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness. everyone seemed paired off, and you wished nanami were there to walk in with you, hand in hand. searching the room, you spotted gojo across the hall, engaged in conversation with ayana and other couples. when he caught your gaze, you looked away in slight embarrassment.

cute, he thinks.

amidst the lively chatter and music, your mother tried to comfort you while you anxiously awaited nanami's arrival, your eyes fixed on the entrance doors.

“I'm so glad you made it! my parents are dying to meet you!” ayana greeted your parents, her congratulatory words on your engagement dripping with insincerity. you watched her guide your parents to meet hers, leaving you standing alone, fingers fidgeting with your ring.

“the ring suits you,” gojo's voice interrupted.

“are you here to keep me company?” you replied, less enthused than you hoped.

“you know I love being near you,” he said, and you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“don't think I forgot about your threatening words, prince gojo,” you reminded him sharply, but he only smiled.

“I did not forget. ayana will get her apology one way or another,” he declared confidently. just as you glanced away, you spot ayana and another man slipped out of the main event towards the outside garden. 

was this a distraction?

your anger flared at the sight, and you quickly excused yourself, gojo assuming you were upset about the apology. but In truth, you were determined to find out what ayana was up to.

you followed her previous steps and exit the doors leading to the garden, trying to pinpoint where they could’ve gone in the huge garden. you trail into a random direction and feel you’ve been walking for too long.

your feet ache from the heels you’ve been wearing as you spot a secluded bench, scurrying to rest your feet in time. just as you’re getting comfortable, you hear ayana’s unmistakeable annoying laugh followed by a man’s voice.

you feel anger wash over you again as you quickly take off your heels, holding it in your hand as you follow the noises within the garden. your heart beats faster as you get closer and closer to the source of noise.

how dare she lie and cheat on him, I cannot believe-

your thoughts come to a full stop as you can’t process what’s in front of you. your heels slip out of your hands, startling the two.

“k-kento?..” you shakingly say as tears fill your eyes. you see nanami quickly making a great distance between him and ayana as they were kissing. he calls out your name as you refuse to listen to him. 

“it’s really not what it looks like- I was telling her she must leave me alone for the sake of us!” he says truthfully, as ayana smirks knowing her evil plan worked.

“kenny, you cannot leave this place without proposing to me,” ayana sneers, her voice dripping with evil. you and nanami exchange confused glances, the intensity of the moment makes you feel as if you might be ill.

“since you two aren’t going to ask, I’ll happily explain!” she exclaims, clapping her hands with glee as you begin feeling dizzy. “because there is a witness to kenny’s and my sinful actions, we must get married to avoid being shunned by society!” she declares, her eyes gleaming with wicked delight.

“w-well I wouldn’t dare to speak a word of what I just saw-“

“you're not the only witness, dear," she says, her eyes locking onto someone behind you. you turn to see the man she had been speaking to earlier, the one you noticed before entering the garden. he stands there with an evil smirk. “kenny is a great kisser too, he even leaned in first!”she adds, fuelling your growing anger.

“kento, how could you?” Your voice breaks as the weight of betrayal crushes you. “do you know what this means? you two will be married, society will demand it!”

ayana's smirk widened. “exactly. with nanami caught in this scandal, he has no choice but to marry me to salvage his honor—and yours.”

“the choice is yours, dear. call off the engagement or face the consequences,” she threatened, wiping away your tears with feigned sympathy. “you have until your engagement ball to decide.”

staring at them in disbelief, sickened by the situation, you turned away in anger, striding back into the ballroom. tears streamed down your face, heels in hand, paying no mind to your appearance as you pushed through the crowd.

gojo sensed your presence, ignoring the conversation he was in. he notices your state as he abandons his conversation and rushes to your side. “hey, what's wrong?” he started, then fell silent, his eyes widening at your distraught state.

he took your hand, rushing out of the ballroom, leading you swiftly to the nearest bathroom. “are you hurt? did someone hurt you?” his concerns increasing as he searched your face for any sign of injury.

“I'm leaving,” you declared abruptly, his confusion evident.

“okay, I'll give you privacy,” he began to step away, but you stopped him.

“no, I mean I'm leaving this place. I'm sick of you, sick of all of this,” you rambled tearfully. “I'll pack my things tonight and be gone by morning.”

“no, please, don't leave,” gojo pleaded, his voice trembling. he couldn't bear the thought of losing you. “what happened?” he begs.

“I caught nanami and ayana in the garden,” you explained through tears, your frustration increasing. “she's threatening me to call off the engagement or-”

gojo cut you off, pulling you into a warm embrace, holding you tightly. his heart raced with a mix of anger and protectiveness.

“my love, I swear no one will harm you again," he vowed, cupping your face gently as he kissed away your tears.

“this is what I'm sick of,” you protested, looking up at him with frustration. “you're angry one moment, then this—satoru, what is your issue?”

“we're forbidden to marry, and you know that,” he reminded you, his tone softening. “our fathers' contract—it's tearing me apart, I can’t keep this façade or I’ll break,” he confessed, his pain evident.

“I’m a selfish man- I want you to myself. pushing you away all these years and now finding out we are forbidden, i-i cant ,” he admitted, his gaze intense with longing and desperation.

then, an idea struck him. a selfish and impulsive idea.

staring at your ring finger, he grabbed your arm, tightened his grip on your hand as he’s pulling you out of the bathroom and back into the ballroom. you struggled to break free, but he held firm.

“everyone, may I have your attention?” gojo's voice rang out, commanding the room's focus.

“satoru, stop, what are you doing-“ you pleaded, but he ignored you.

“we're engaged!”

the room fell silent, all eyes on the unexpected announcement.

what?

[ssa-dado]

13 - Soulmates

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: fluff Summary: Reid and Morgan attend your lecture, curious about your mysterious connection to Hotch, and are quickly outplayed by your keen instincts. During the lecture, you seamlessly blend psychological concepts with philosophical insights, leaving them impressed. Afterward, Hotch, unaware of your return, is stunned when he finally sees you, the bond between you two immediately apparent. The team watches in awe as you and Hotch exchange playful banter, the deep connection between you two undeniable. Warnings: CM-style graphic case descriptions, Reid and Morgan being oblivious Word Count: 10k Dado's Corner: Try not to say mommy challenge. You will all miserably fail. Y/N is a savage, I love her, the more confident version of her is so fun to write.

previous chapter ; masterlist

Later that day, Morgan and Reid found themselves seated in the middle of a packed lecture hall at the Academy. It wasn’t exactly protocol for the two of them to be there -especially not together - but the team had orchestrated this “mission” carefully: it was a case file day, which meant there was a low chance of being called out, but leaving the bullpen entirely would have raised suspicion. Especially if they wanted to keep their operation secret from Hotch and Gideon, both clueless of what was about to unfold.

The mystery surrounding you - why Hotch never had spoken about you - had quickly become a quiet fascination within the team, escalating over the course of just a few hours. It wasn’t just curiosity about a former colleague; there was an unspoken sense that your departure had left an impact that went far beyond a routine job change. Intrigued by the potential layers to the situation, the team knew they needed to investigate, and they chose Reid and Morgan as the perfect pair for this undercover operation.

Reid’s youth and sharp intellect made him blend in effortlessly with the students, but it was his deep academic curiosity that truly set him apart. In preparation for the lecture, Reid had spent the afternoon poring over all of your published work, and he quickly became captivated by your ability to seamlessly interlace psychology, culture, and philosophy in ways few could manage. The depth of your insights, the connections you drew between human behavior and broader cultural forces, sparked something in him - a rare sense of admiration.

For Reid, this mission wasn’t just about gathering intelligence; it was an opportunity to engage with a mind he respected. Your ideas, complex yet accessible, offered an intellectual challenge he was eager to dive into. He wanted to hear your thoughts firsthand, not just to uncover the truth about your past with Hotch, but because he truly respected the brilliance of your work.

Morgan, on the other hand, had entirely different motivations for being there. His cop’s instinct told him something wasn’t adding up, and that gnawing curiosity wouldn’t let him rest. A particular photo he’d seen back in Garcia’s lair - of you and Hotch, caught in a candid moment of shared laughter - had stuck with him ever since.

Hotch didn’t laugh like that anymore.

There was something about you that had unlocked a side of their otherwise stoic unit chief, a version of Hotch that Morgan had never seen before, and it bothered him. That rare glimpse of joy on his boss’s face hinted at a deeper story, one that Hotch had kept carefully hidden. Morgan was determined to figure out what had really happened between you two, to uncover why Hotch never spoke of you and why your departure still seemed to hang in the air like unfinished business.

Unlike Reid, who could slip into the crowd with his youthful look and scholarly demeanor, Morgan stood out. His broad shoulders and confident stance made him look more like a security detail than a student. His sharp gaze constantly swept the room, not in casual curiosity, but in the way of someone who was trained to assess for threats, even in the seemingly safe confines of a lecture hall. Morgan wasn’t here to blend in; he was here to find answers.

“Man, these kids are young,” Morgan muttered under his breath, taking in the sea of eager, fresh faces around them.

Reid, already scribbling notes, glanced up with a slight smirk. “It’s the Academy. They’re supposed to be young. You’ll survive.”

Morgan rolled his eyes but didn’t reply, his thoughts still caught between the mission at hand and the uneasy feeling he couldn’t shake. There was something more in the air, something heavier than just academic interest.

“Just remember,” Morgan whispered, leaning closer to Reid, “we’re not here for the lesson. We’re here to figure out what Hotch isn’t telling us.”

Reid glanced up, clearly torn between his genuine academic excitement and the need to stick to the plan. “I can do both, you know.”

Morgan smirked. “Sure you can, kid. Just don’t get lost in the lecture.”

Just then, the door at the front of the lecture hall swung open, and you walked in with an air of quiet confidence that silenced the room instantly. The soft shuffle of papers and whispered conversations died down as you made your way to the podium, a stack of notes in hand. Reid and Morgan immediately locked onto you, and though Reid had never met you in person, he instantly recognized you from the photo Garcia had shown them earlier.

You looked strikingly similar to how you had in that picture: poised, elegant, with that same calm authority that demanded attention without effort. But now, in this academic environment, there was a subtle difference. Reid noted how much more relaxed you seemed, despite the structured setting. There was a lightness to you, as if shedding the rigid confines of the BAU had allowed you to embrace something more natural, more authentic.

Your hair, worn in its natural texture, was a stark contrast to the sleek, pin-straight style you had sported back when you were chasing down criminals. It made you seem more yourself, more at ease, as though time had allowed you to settle into a version of you that didn’t need to conform to the high-pressure world of profiling. And yet, despite these differences, Reid could see the parts of you that hadn’t changed at all.

You still wore your signature all-black suit, sharply tailored and immaculate. The only splash of color was your light blue shirt, buttoned all the way to the top but hidden beneath a fitted black vest. It was a subtle uniform, one that spoke of your meticulous attention to detail, just as Reid had expected from the person whose work he had admired.

As you set your notes down on the podium, there was no need to ask for the students' attention. Your presence alone commanded it, radiating a quiet authority that both Reid and Morgan could feel from across the room.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes studying you intently. The way you moved, the way you carried yourself, it was almost uncanny. You had the same presence as Hotch, the same quiet yet commanding energy that made people listen before you even spoke. The way you walked to the podium, the slight tilt of your head as you scanned the room, the controlled yet effortless manner in which you handled your materials, it was all too familiar.

Morgan couldn’t shake the feeling that it didn’t make sense to him how you could still carry such a striking similarity to Hotch after all these years. You had only worked together for three years, and it had been six since you’d last seen each other, yet those brief moments watching you confirmed that there was an unspoken bond, a shared approach to leadership and presence that ran far deeper than the passage of time could diminish.

What stood out to him even more was how mature you seemed, not just in your authority but in the quiet confidence you exuded. You were four years younger than him, only five older than Reid, but there was something about the way you carried yourself that made you feel more seasoned, like you’d lived a life beyond your years. And yet, your warmth was undeniable. Your smile was far more approachable than Hotch’s, inviting curiosity and dialogue, yet it carried the same weight of experience and intellect.

What truly set you apart, though, was the care you showed to the students. Even though this was just a guest lecture, and you had no prior connection to any of them, there was a gentleness in the way you treated them, as if each one mattered individually. Rather than pointing out sections of a textbook or directing them to impersonal reading assignments, you handed out your very own notes. Pages written in your careful, flowing handwriting, offering glimpses into your thought process. The act of giving them your personal materials made everyone in the room feel seen and taken care of, as if they were receiving something more than just information, they were receiving a piece of you.

As you approached Reid and Morgan’s row, handing out the notes, your instincts kicked in almost instantly. Something in their body language - Morgan's guarded posture, the way Reid’s eyes darted over every detail - gave them away. They weren’t students, not with that level of awareness. Your instincts, finely honed from years in the field, told you immediately they were agents, not here for the lecture but for something more. You paused for only a fraction of a second as you handed Reid his copy, then Morgan’s, but in that brief exchange, everything clicked into place.

You knew exactly who they were, they weren’t just agents.

They were Hotch’s agents.

Even without having seen their pictures, Hotch’s letters over the years had painted such vivid portraits of his team that recognition came as naturally as breathing. Reid’s intense curiosity, the way his mind seemed to be running a mile a minute as he absorbed every detail of the room, was exactly as Hotch had described. And Morgan - sharp, ever-watchful, his presence commanding without a word - fit the description perfectly. Hotch had done more than just mention them; he'd crafted a detailed profile of each one, and in that moment, you were impressed by how well his words had aligned with reality.

But despite recognizing them, you gave nothing away. No raised brow, no startled reaction - just a slight, knowing smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you handed them their notes with the same care and warmth you extended to the rest of the class. It was as if, in that brief moment, you acknowledged the deeper connection between all of you but chose to let it remain unspoken, just as you had done with so many things in your life.

You decided you would let them continue their undercover game, but in your mind, you were already several steps ahead. You knew their plan. You understood the intrigue. And while you didn’t mind playing along for now, you knew this encounter would unfold on your terms, not theirs.

Reid’s eyes lingered on the notes you handed him, immediately captivated by the intricate, handwritten connections sprawling across the page. The blue ink, fluid and purposeful, revealed a map of your mind - each word carefully placed to weave together psychological phenomena, historical events, and philosophical insights with stunning clarity. The structure, the flow, the careful attention to detail - it was all there.

Morgan’s attention, however, was pulled elsewhere. As you handed him his notes, he caught the glint of something he hadn’t expected. The engagement ring. His eyes locked on it for a moment longer than they should have, the band gleaming on your left hand as you moved past him. There it was, a piece of the puzzle he hadn’t accounted for. Whoever you were now, you weren’t just Hotch’s former partner. You had a life, a future, and someone waiting for you.

Morgan glanced over at Reid, whose eyes were still glued to your notes, clearly fascinated by the web of ideas you had laid out. But when Reid noticed Morgan’s gaze, the flicker of recognition passed between them. The mission just got a lot more complicated.

As you moved back to the podium and began your lecture, Morgan couldn’t help but continue noticing the subtle echoes of Hotch’s body language. The way you paused before speaking, the careful consideration in your words, it was all too familiar. Reid, ever the observer of patterns, was clearly noticing it too. The way you stood at the podium, hands placed just so, the deliberate pacing as you spoke. It was eerily reminiscent of Hotch, and yet there was something different. Where Hotch exuded strict efficiency, you brought warmth, a sense of curiosity that made people lean in, eager to hear more.

“I came here today because they told me to discuss the phenomenon of folie à deux,” you began, your voice calm yet authoritative, “and its implications not just in psychology but in philosophy and culture.”

The room stilled as you spoke, your presence effortlessly commanding attention. Morgan and Reid exchanged a quick glance, fully engaged now in the way you were weaving complex psychological concepts with larger, philosophical questions. There was something magnetic about the way you approached the topic, pulling in the room with every word.

“Folie à deux is a rare psychological phenomenon,” you continued, “where two or more individuals, typically in a close relationship, share the same delusion. It’s often seen in couples, siblings, or very close friends. The dominant partner transmits their delusion to the other, creating a shared reality.”

You paused, letting the weight of the concept settle over the room. “This raises profound philosophical questions. Take Kant’s idea, for instance. He believed that we don’t perceive the world as it truly is, but instead, we experience the world through the lens of our minds. In other words, our reality is shaped by how our minds organize and interpret what we see, hear, and feel.”

You let that thought settle before continuing. “Now, if two people share the same delusion, for them, that becomes their reality. Even though it's false to us, it’s their truth, because their minds are filtering and organizing information to fit that shared belief. In Kant’s terms, it challenges the very idea of ‘objective reality’ - because what we think is real might just be how we’re perceiving it, not how it actually exists outside of our minds.”

You smiled warmly at the class. “So, in a way, our subjective experiences - what we believe, what we feel - shape the world we live in. And when two people share the same distorted view, that shared perception becomes their reality, no matter how far it drifts from the truth.”

Reid leaned forward, his pen flying across the page as he absorbed every word. He was captivated, not just by the subject matter, but by the way you framed it, how you elevated the psychological disorder into a philosophical discussion about the nature of truth and perception. You made complex ideas seem simple yet profound, interconnecting psychology and philosophy into one seamless, thought-provoking narrative.

Morgan, though less academically driven, found himself equally drawn in. The way you spoke made even the most abstract concepts accessible, your words carrying weight not just in their content but in how you delivered them, with a clarity that left no room for misunderstanding, yet a depth that left room for reflection.

You began to explain a specific case you had worked on during your time at the BAU, a case that had stayed with you due to its sheer brutality and the disturbing dynamic between the killers. “I worked on a case a few years ago involving a series of brutal murders. The victims were found hanging from the ceilings of abandoned warehouses, their bodies mutilated in ways that suggested not just violence, but performance.”

The room grew eerily still as you spoke, your voice taking on a darker tone. “The killers were a couple, completely lost in their shared delusion. They believed that by killing their victims in such a specific, ritualistic manner, they were cementing their bond, as if the act of murder itself was an expression of their twisted love.”

You paced slowly across the front of the room, your words heavy with implication, and the students hung on every word. “The crime scenes were brutal, but what stood out most were the patterns - blood splattered in what appeared to be a deliberate, almost choreographed way. It wasn’t random violence; it was as if they were performing a ritual.”

Reid’s pen scratched furiously against his notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to capture every detail. Morgan, meanwhile, glanced around the room, feeling the palpable tension you were building with your story.

“The first victim, a 21-year-old student, was found suspended from the ceiling of a derelict warehouse. Her body had been methodically sliced, the cuts precise, deep, but not immediately fatal. The killers had taken their time, savoring each wound, letting her bleed out slowly. The scene was a nightmare: blood splattered everywhere, but not haphazardly. It seemed purposeful, like an abstract painting.”

You paused, gauging the room’s reactions. The students sat frozen, entranced, and even Reid, who had seen his share of brutal cases, seemed visibly affected.

“The second victim, a 36-year-old plumber, was found in a nearly identical state in another warehouse. Another body, another grotesque dance of violence. His blood, like the first victim’s, had been splattered across the room in swirling patterns, as if the killers were moving in deliberate, controlled steps. It was clear this wasn’t about the victims themselves, but about the act. They weren’t just killing, they were performing.”

You nodded at the young woman’s question, already anticipating the curiosity it sparked. “At first glance, the victims appeared unconnected - different ages, different backgrounds. But the killers didn’t choose them at random. The victims were symbolic, representations of the killers’ own internal dynamics. One victim reflected the youth and innocence of one partner, while the other embodied the experience, the world-weariness, of the other. In a twisted sense, they weren’t killing strangers - they were killing versions of themselves, surrogates, to solidify their bond through these acts.”

Reid’s hand shot up, his mind clearly racing with the case details. “Did your team profile them as a couple right away?”

You nodded, already expecting Reid’s instinctive question. “Yes, very early on, we suspected it was a folie à deux. The crime scenes told us as much. The way the blood was deliberately splattered, almost choreographed, was a shared act of performance. The footprints intertwined, moving in tandem, telling a story of two people completely absorbed in their collective delusion. It was clear that this wasn’t just violence, it was ritual, a form of communication between them.”

Here, you paused, adding a layer of deeper reflection. “Philosophically, it raises an interesting point about identity and connection. In cases like this, the delusion becomes more than just shared, it defines them. Think of Hegel’s concept of the dialectic. Two opposing forces interact, shaping and defining each other through their opposition. These killers were engaged in that process, only instead of a philosophical exchange of ideas, their connection was expressed through violence. They became more themselves through their shared acts, solidifying their identities through the bond of their crimes.”

Morgan shifted in his seat, slightly unsettled by the complexity of the killers' psychology and the patience it must have taken to unravel their twisted connection. He didn’t often think of criminals in such philosophical terms, he saw them through the lens of the law, of right and wrong.

“And then,” you said, your voice growing quieter, more deliberate, “there was the dance.”

The air in the room grew heavier, as if everyone collectively held their breath. “Each crime scene had one distinctive feature,” you continued, “the footprints left in the blood. They weren’t random or chaotic - they moved in deliberate loops and turns, forming a grotesque choreography. This was no ordinary crime - it was ritualistic, deeply personal. The killers were reliving a significant moment between them, reenacting their bond through this macabre dance.”

You paused, letting the students absorb the gravity of what you were saying. “And here’s where we dive deeper - into the philosophy of ritual. Durkheim talks about how rituals are essential to the creation of social bonds, how shared rituals bring people closer, giving them a sense of identity and belonging. For these two, the act of murder became their ritual. It was how they maintained their connection, how they affirmed to each other that their shared reality - their delusion - was true. The blood on the floor wasn’t just evidence. It was a testament to their bond, a mark of their unity.”

You let the silence hang, watching as the weight of those words sank in. Reid was furiously scribbling notes, his brows furrowed in concentration, clearly processing the philosophical layers you were laying down. Morgan, on the other hand, glanced around the room, sensing the discomfort among the students, while he himself struggled to imagine how such a deep connection could manifest in something so horrific.

A student’s hand shot up from the middle of the room. “How did you catch them?”

You paused for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips, holding back the laughter threatening to escape at the memory. “It wasn’t easy,” you began, your voice steady and measured. “My partner and I had to go undercover to a dance event where we suspected the unsubs would be. We spent an entire night - and the following day -perfecting a slow dance routine just to blend in, hoping to draw them out.”

There was a ripple of interest across the room, but Morgan and Reid exchanged a glance that held more weight than simple curiosity. Morgan’s brow furrowed, his lips quirking in disbelief. He leaned toward Reid, whispering, “Hotch? Dancing?”

Reid, always serious, blinked in surprise, his pen frozen mid-air. “Hotch? Dancing?” he echoed, as if the concept itself was too far-fetched to be real.

Morgan’s disbelief quickly morphed into amusement. He leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming mischievously as he pulled out his phone, keeping it low under the desk. Without missing a beat, he sent a quick message to Garcia.

To Garcia:

Find footage of Hotch dancing. ASAP.

You caught the exchange from the corner of your eye, and the flash of recognition in your gaze wasn’t lost on either of them. You knew what they were up to. You’d seen it before - agents who thought they could outmaneuver you. It didn’t bother you. In fact, a touch of mischief tugged at your own lips as you pressed on with the story.

“We had to immerse ourselves completely in the role,” you continued smoothly, not missing a beat. “Everything had to be perfect - our interactions with the other dancers, the timing of our steps. We had to give the appearance of just being another couple enjoying the evening.”

You paused, letting your words settle in, and your eyes - sharp and assessing - swept over the room, briefly lingering on Reid and Morgan. They thought they were here undercover, sizing you up, but you were already several steps ahead.

“As you can imagine,” you said, your tone casual but laced with intent, “undercover work is about blending in. It’s about becoming invisible until you’re ready to act. One of the worst things you can do is stand out before you have what you need.”

Morgan’s posture stiffened. He exchanged a subtle glance with Reid, who was still scribbling furiously, caught up in the lesson. But Morgan, with his instincts sharpened by years in the field, noticed the change in your tone. Reid, still oblivious, looked up, blinking in confusion as he tried to catch the thread.

“For example,” you continued, now pacing ever so slightly in front of the room, “if you’re attending a lecture and trying to blend in, you wouldn’t want to sit right in the middle, where everyone can see you. You’d want to sit somewhere unobtrusive - close enough to observe, but not so obvious that you stand out.”

Reid’s pen stilled. He blinked rapidly, glancing down at his notes as if unsure how to respond. Morgan, on the other hand, shifted in his seat, straightening up. He could feel the eyes of the room on them now. This wasn’t just a lecture anymore. You had them in your sights.

“And of course,” you added, with a sly smile barely visible at the corners of your lips, “you’d want to keep steady eye contact with the people you’re observing. Avoiding eye contact is a classic tell that you’re hiding something.”

Reid’s head snapped up, wide-eyed, and he finally caught on. His gaze flicked nervously between you and Morgan, his face flushing a deep shade of red. Morgan, meanwhile, smirked, the game now fully exposed. He chuckled under his breath, turning to Reid with a playful glint in his eye.

“I think we’ve been made,” Morgan whispered, leaning closer.

Reid’s response came in a low mutter, “I think she’s profiling us.”

You didn’t miss the exchange, though you pretended not to hear. The game was laid bare, and now it was time to pull back the curtain. “The key to any good undercover operation,” you continued, eyes still fixed on them even as you addressed the entire class, “is to stay in character, no matter what happens. And when someone mentions having to learn a choreographed number to catch unsubs, you definitely don’t text your technical analyst to hunt down footage because the man in question happens to be your emotionless, overworked Unit Chief.”

Both Morgan and Reid’s jaws dropped, their reactions a perfect mirror of disbelief and embarrassment. Reid blushed furiously, stammering as he attempted to regain his composure. Morgan bit back laughter, his shoulders shaking as he slid his phone into his pocket. You were right, of course. There was no getting around it, they’d been caught red-handed.

Garcia, no doubt, would be on the receiving end of Morgan’s follow-up text telling her to drop the hunt for footage.

You let the silence linger for a beat, allowing the full weight of the moment to sink in. The rest of the class sat transfixed, watching what they believed was just a masterclass in teaching. Little did they know the game of cat-and-mouse unfolding between you and the two agents in the back.

You took a breath, your voice resuming its measured cadence. “Undercover work,” you continued, “is about subtleties. It’s about knowing how to blend in, how to observe without drawing attention. It’s about choosing the right moment to act and making sure you’re invisible until the exact second you need to be seen.”

Your gaze lingered on Reid and Morgan just a moment longer, a soft smile tugging at your lips. They thought they were here to gather information on you, to figure out who you were and why Hotch had never spoken of you. But in reality, they had only gotten a taste of your true skill, the ability to read people long before they ever realized they were being seen.

Reid, his face still flushed with embarrassment, leaned over to Morgan. “She just pulled a Hotch on us.”

Morgan grinned, shaking his head in admiration. “She’s good. Really good. No wonder Hotch never talks about her… he’s probably still recovering.”

The tension in the room eased, but you knew that whatever questions Morgan and Reid had come with were far from answered. They had expected to size you up, maybe catch you off guard, but instead, you’d turned the tables on them.

You continued with your lecture, now fully in control of the room. “And that’s what we did with the case,” you concluded. “We chose the right moment, and when we did, we caught them in their own delusion, wrapped in their performance. They never saw it coming.”

Reid’s pen resumed its frantic scribbling, while Morgan, arms crossed, watched you with a new sense of respect. Whatever answers they sought, they knew now that you wouldn’t be easy to read. And that was exactly how you liked it.

You finished your lecture smoothly, returning to the details of the case and the eventual capture of the unsubs, weaving in philosophical insights about reality, perception, and the power of shared beliefs. But throughout it all, you never lost that air of quiet confidence, knowing you had just outplayed two of the best profilers in the FBI.

As the lecture came to a close and students began to file out of the room, Morgan and Reid remained in their seats, waiting for the others to leave. When the room had finally emptied, you approached them with a knowing smile tugging at your lips.

“Well,” you began, your tone light but teasing, “I hope you two learned something.”

Reid blushed deeply, looking down at his notebook as if it could somehow shield him from the embarrassment. Morgan, on the other hand, held out his hand with a wide grin, unfazed by the fact that they had been caught. “I’ll give it to you - you got us. I haven’t been outplayed like that in a long time.”

You laughed softly, shaking his hand. “I recognized you both the moment I walked in, Hotch talks about his team all the time. But I appreciate the effort, you blended in better than most.”

Reid finally found his voice, still fidgeting with his satchel as if to ground himself. “I-I just wanted to say I’ve read your work on geographical profiling. It’s... groundbreaking.” His voice held genuine admiration, the kind that went beyond the mission they were on.

Your warm smile softened further, and you nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Dr. Reid. That means a lot, especially coming from you.” You could see the boyish pride flash across his face at the compliment.

Morgan, ever the protector, chuckled and nudged Reid with his elbow. “See? You two are cut from the same cloth. A couple of geniuses.”

You turned to Morgan, raising a brow with amusement. “And you’re Derek Morgan, the infamous charmer. Hotch warned me about you.”

Morgan smirked, flashing a look of mock offense. “Warned you, huh? Well, I’m flattered, but he probably undersold me.” His teasing grin was infectious, but beneath the bravado, you could see the respect he held for you.

You shook your head, still laughing. “He’s actually spoken about your loyalty more than anything else. I can see why.”

Morgan, momentarily caught off guard by the sincerity in your words, gave a small nod of appreciation. Then, ever the flirt, he added with a playful glint in his eye, “Now I get why Hotch never talks about you. You’ve probably got him all figured out.”

The smile faltered for just a moment, a soft wave of nostalgia passing over you. “Hotch is... the best partner I’ve ever had,” you said quietly, your tone laced with something deeper. “And a good friend.”

Before the conversation could turn more personal, the door creaked open, and all three of you turned toward the sound of footsteps. Both Morgan and Reid stiffened, instinctively straightening in their seats. You followed their gaze toward the door, where none other than Jason Gideon appeared. His familiar, warm presence filled the room immediately, his keen eyes scanning the scene before him.

Gideon’s gaze first landed on Reid and Morgan, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before a knowing look settled in. He shook his head slightly, clearly imagining how Hotch would react when he found out his agents had gone rogue for this unsanctioned mission. But then his eyes found you, and his expression softened into something else - pride.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying the weight of all the years and experiences you’d shared. “Who would have thought? Not even a decade ago, you were sitting in these very desks, and now you’re traveling the world, revolutionizing our entire approach to behavioral analysis. You’ve become a legend.”

His words, spoken with genuine pride, struck something deep within you. Despite yourself, a wave of emotion surged in your chest, and for a moment, you were the young student again, sitting across from him in that same room. You stepped forward and embraced him, the gesture spontaneous but full of meaning. The hug was brief but genuine, and you pulled back slightly, your eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Thank you, Gideon,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion you hadn’t expected. “I owe all of this to you. I still feel like I’m only scratching the surface compared to what you’ve accomplished.”

He stepped back, his hands gently resting on your shoulders as he met your eyes. His gaze was as steady as ever, filled with a deep affection and respect. “You’ve done more than you realize,” he said quietly. “You’ve surpassed every expectation I had, but I always knew you would. From the moment you walked into the BAU, I knew you were going to change everything.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you shook your head slightly, trying to brush off the weight of his praise. “Well, I’ve certainly made a few changes.”

Gideon’s eyes sparkled with nostalgia as he looked at you. “You’ve changed too,” he said softly, his voice brimming with fondness. “No more straight hair.” He smiled, clearly remembering the younger version of you who had tried so hard to project confidence. “You used to work so hard to make sure no one underestimated you.”

You laughed, though the sound was a little choked with the emotions you were trying to keep in check. “I stopped worrying about that a long time ago,” you admitted, feeling the gravity of your journey settle in your chest. “Letting people underestimate you can be a real advantage.”

Gideon chuckled, nodding as if he had always known you’d figure that out on your own. “I always knew you would,” he said with quiet pride. “You’ve grown into yourself. More than that, you’ve become someone people look up to.”

You grinned, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. “And you haven’t changed a bit,” you teased, though your voice betrayed the depth of the connection you still felt with him.

Gideon’s smile was soft, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening as he took in the sight of you. “I have,” he said, his voice gentle but knowing. “But that’s how it’s supposed to be. Time changes us all, but I’m proud of you, Y/N. Truly.”

The moment felt heavy with unspoken words, the bond between you and your mentor palpable. Reid and Morgan, watching from the side, felt the significance of it. Reid, always the observer, took mental note of the exchange, while Morgan could see how deeply you and Gideon were connected.

Gideon looked around the room, then turned back to you with a small, knowing smile. “It’s good to have you back,” he said, his voice softer, full of the warmth that only a mentor could offer. "Why don’t you come with me to the BAU? I know Hotch would want to see you.” His tone softened further, the words deliberate, as if he sensed the emotional weight they carried. “You’re not an ocean away anymore. You’re just a moment away.”

The mention of Hotch’s name sent a wave of emotions crashing over you. Your heart skipped a beat, your breath catching in your chest as the reality of it settled.

Six years.

Six long years since you’d last stood face to face with him, since you’d held his gaze and heard the familiar, steady tone of his voice. The prospect of seeing him again stirred something deep inside you - not just nostalgia, but the weight of everything you’d shared. You’d still felt the connection in every letter exchanged over the years, every small piece of your old selves that you shared across time zones.

But letters were safe, written words couldn’t fully capture the presence Hotch carried, the way he could fill a room with just his silence, how his quiet, intense gaze could ground you when everything else was chaotic. That was what you missed most: the steady, unspoken understanding that had defined your partnership.

You tried to steady yourself, but the memories came rushing back: the late nights in his office, where neither of you needed to speak to understand one another. The silent communication born out of years of working cases together, where you could anticipate his thoughts, his moves, before a word was uttered. He had been more than just a partner in the field - he had been your anchor in the storm of the BAU, a constant presence that you trusted with your life.

And in that trust, without even realizing it at the time, you had also given him your heart.

But time had changed things. In the six years since you left, you had found love with Peter, now your fiancé, someone who brought light and stability into your life in ways you hadn’t thought possible after the intensity of working at the BAU. Peter had followed you to Europe, and together you had built a new chapter - one full of love, shared adventures, and a future that felt secure. Meanwhile, Hotch had built his own family, raising Jack and finding his happiness with Haley.

Both of you had moved forward, creating lives apart from each other, but the bond you shared, that deep-rooted partnership, had never faded.

It had evolved. What once might have been an unspoken attraction had transformed into something deeper – the most profound friendship built on mutual respect and care for each other. Hotch had been there for you in ways no one else had, and even though life had taken you on different paths, that connection would always be there. He was still your partner, and you knew that no matter what, you would always have care for each other.

Gideon, ever perceptive, seemed to sense the emotions you were bottling up. He turned toward Morgan and Reid, who were standing awkwardly at the back, clearly feeling guilty for sneaking into your class during work hours.

“I think the two of you owe Y/N a proper introduction to the team,” Gideon said, his voice carrying that familiar mentor-like authority, though there was a teasing note beneath it. He knew exactly what he was doing—giving you a little more time to gather your thoughts.

Morgan, for once, looked slightly unnerved, and Reid fidgeted with his bag, clearly realizing that their undercover mission might get them into more trouble than they had anticipated. The thought of Hotch finding out they’d been snooping on his old partner without permission seemed to hit them both at the same time.

“Yeah, uh… about that,” Morgan began, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Hotch is not gonna be happy when he finds out we snuck out to come here.”

Reid nodded fervently, his fingers tapping nervously against his satchel. “If he finds out,” he muttered, clearly hoping that somehow Hotch wouldn’t discover their little operation.

You couldn’t help but smile at the two of them, their dynamic so familiar, reminiscent of how you and Hotch used to move in sync. It was strange, seeing this new generation of agents, people who had become extensions of the world you had left behind. But even in that strangeness, there was a comfort, a sense of continuity.

The BAU had changed, but the bond between partners, the loyalty, was still the same.

The thought of seeing Hotch again made your breath catch in your throat. Six years was a long time, but the way your heart quickened at the idea of hearing his voice, standing in front of him, told you that the connection between you two hadn’t faded. You had built a life with Peter, and Hotch had built his family, yet there was still something between you that transcended time and distance. It wasn’t romantic, not anymore, but it was profound. He was still everything that mattered.

You swallowed hard, pushing aside the rush of emotions as you nodded, a soft, almost tentative smile tugging at your lips. “I’d love to.”

Morgan, catching the momentary hesitation in your voice, smirked, his profiling instincts kicking in immediately. “You didn’t tell Hotch you were coming back, did you?”

You grinned, a flicker of mischief lighting your eyes. “Of course not. I wanted to catch him off guard. I think you know better than I do how much he hates surprises.”

Reid blinked, clearly taken aback by the casual ease with which you spoke about Hotch. “You planned to surprise him… just to annoy him?”

Your smile widened, the playfulness evident. “Exactly. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

Morgan chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Man, Hotch is in for a rude awakening. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“Almost,” you teased, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “But let’s be honest, you’re just as curious to see his reaction as I am.”

.

The elevator ride up to the BAU felt like an eternity. Every passing floor seemed to stretch time longer, and the soft ding of each level only heightened your anticipation. Gideon stood beside you, calm and composed as always, offering a reassuring presence without a word. Reid and Morgan’s casual chatter about the last case floated around you, but their words didn’t register.

Your mind was consumed by a thousand different thoughts, scenarios of how this reunion might go, and the heart-pounding reality that, in just a few moments, you would see him again.

Would Hotch be angry? Would he be surprised? Or had too much time passed for him to feel anything at all?

When the elevator doors finally slid open onto the familiar floor of the BAU, your breath caught in your throat. The bullpen, once your daily world, hummed with activity. Agents moved briskly between desks, their voices blending with the ringing phones and the hum of printers.

Everything looked so familiar and yet subtly different. More desks, new faces, an expanded workspace. But it wasn’t the changes that struck you - it was the energy, the same sense of family that had always made this place feel like home.

Your eyes wandered, scanning the room until they landed on two desks right in the center of the bullpen, still facing each other after all these years.

Your desk and Hotch’s - just as they’d been before.

A memory stirred, flooding you with images of late nights ande early mornings spent side by side, the sound of rustling papers and quiet conversations exchanged in the dim glow of desk lamps. The thought of those quiet moments made your heart ache with a bittersweet familiarity.

Suddenly, a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Oh my God,” JJ gasped, her eyes wide with shock as she spotted you from across the room. She walked quickly toward you, her excitement barely contained. “You’re the profiler Hotch never talks about, aren’t you?”. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “So I’ve heard.”

Before you could say more, the blur of pink and sparkles that was Penelope Garcia appeared at your side, practically bouncing on her toes with enthusiasm. “You’re *real*!” she squealed. “Twenty-six languages, three master’s degrees… you’re like a myth come to life!”

Her joy was infectious, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the warmth of it spreading through your chest. “It’s twenty-eight now,” you corrected with a grin. “But who’s counting?”

Garcia gasped dramatically, her eyes wide in amazement. “Twenty-eight?! Oh, honey, we have so much to talk about!”

Prentiss approached next, arms crossed but a warm smile on her face. “Well, well,” she said, appraising you with a glint of admiration. “Didn’t think I’d ever meet the one who kept Hotch on his toes all those years. Welcome back.”

You smiled back at her, feeling the weight of the years melt away as these new members of the team welcomed you with such ease. It was as if no time had passed at all, yet everything had changed. Each word, each gesture reminded you of the family you had left behind. And as you stood there, catching up with them, you realized how much you had missed this.

But even as they asked about your time in Europe, about the classes you’d taught and the cases you’d worked on, your gaze kept drifting upward, toward the glass-walled office above the bullpen. And there he was.

Aaron Hotchner, sitting at his desk, oblivious to the commotion below. His head was down, focused intently on the file in front of him, his expression as serious and stoic as ever. Your heart clenched painfully at the sight of him.

He looked the same, almost unchanged from the day you left - strong, composed, but with a heaviness in his posture that hadn’t been there before, as if the weight of the years had settled on his shoulders.

You barely registered the questions from the team as your eyes locked onto him. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the sight of him, and suddenly, all the anticipation, all the nervous energy that had been building inside you, rushed to the surface.

Just then, as if sensing the weight of your stare, Hotch lifted his head. His eyes scanned the bullpen, narrowing slightly as he noticed the entire team gathered in one spot. His brow furrowed in confusion as he stood from his desk, closing the file in front of him. But from where he stood, he couldn’t see you yet. You were still hidden among the team, your presence shielded by the circle of agents eagerly chatting around you.

With his familiar, quiet precision, Hotch began descending the stairs. Each step echoed in your chest, your heartbeat quickening with every moment that brought him closer. The room seemed to fall silent, your attention fixed on the sound of his approaching footsteps. You hadn’t heard his voice in six long years, and now, in just a moment, you would.

“What’s going on here?” Hotch’s deep, steady voice cut through the air, commanding attention as it always had.

Everything inside you stilled.

The team parted slightly, giving Hotch a clear view of the person they’d all been gathered around. And when his gaze finally fell on you, the air seemed to shift - heavy with the weight of unspoken words, shared history, and all the time that had passed.

Hotch’s usually composed expression faltered for just a split second. His eyes widened ever so slightly, the surprise flickering across his face before he quickly regained his composure.

But you saw it, the momentary break, the shock of seeing you standing there, as real and unexpected as a ghost from the past.

He stopped mid-step, his breath catching as his gaze locked with yours.

The bullpen fell silent around you, the rest of the team fading into the background as you stood there, face-to-face with the man you hadn’t seen in six years. The man who had been more than just your partner, the man who had been your anchor, your confidant, your best friend.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. It was as if time had stopped, and all the years, all the distance, dissolved in that single moment.Then his eyes found you. For a moment, he didn’t move. His expression froze, shock rippling across his normally stoic features. His mouth parted slightly as though he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words.

Hotch stood there, frozen for what felt like an eternity, his sharp eyes locked onto yours. The bullpen, the agents, the noise - it all faded into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in the heavy silence of six years apart.

Your heart raced as you took him in, noting every detail. He looked the same, and yet different. His hair had a touch more gray, the lines around his eyes slightly deeper, but his presence - strong, steady, and commanding - was unchanged. But there was something else too, something that only you could sense. A heaviness in his eyes, the kind that spoke of burdens carried silently, of long nights and sleepless hours. It hit you like a wave: time hadn’t been kind to him, but it hadn’t eroded that fundamental part of him either.

"Aaron" you finally breathed, breaking the silence between you, your voice softer than you had intended.

His name hung in the air, delicate, almost tentative. The warmth in your tone - familiar, tender - made something flicker in his expression, something that went beyond surprise. His mouth twitched, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t quite find the words. He took a slow step forward, his movements careful, measured.

“Partner...” he said at last, his deep voice rougher than you remembered, as though your name had been lodged somewhere in his chest for too long.

Without thinking, you rushed toward him, your legs moving on instinct alone. And as you closed the distance, he did the same, meeting you halfway. The second your arms wrapped around him, it was like the dam broke. His grip on you was tight, desperate, as if he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. And for the first time in years, you felt truly home.

He buried his face in your shoulder, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The years apart, the distance, the longing, it all disappeared in that one embrace. His breath was warm against your hair, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were filled with a depth of emotion that you had never seen in him before.

It was a mixture of disbelief, relief, and something far more profound, an unspoken bond that transcended words. His usually stoic, unreadable face had softened into something vulnerable, raw. He looked at you like he was seeing a ghost, like he was trying to convince himself that you were real, that this wasn’t some dream he might wake from.

“I… I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Hotch whispered, his voice thick with emotion. The disbelief in his tone almost broke you.

Your own breath trembled as you smiled up at him, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall. “Surprise.”

His hand tightened slightly on your arm as though grounding himself in the moment, ensuring you weren’t about to disappear. He let out a soft, almost incredulous laugh, a sound you hadn’t heard from him in so long. His gaze swept over your face, memorizing every detail as if he was afraid this might be the last time.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice low, full of the weight of the years between you.

You glanced at the team, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I heard there was a class that needed a guest lecturer. Thought I’d pop in, see how the new generation of agents is shaping up.” You took a step closer, your voice growing more serious. “It’s good to see you, Aaron.”

His lips parted, but before he could speak, you caught the flicker of emotion that passed through his eyes. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but you saw it.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said quietly, his gaze searching yours. “You really didn’t warn anyone.”

You shrugged, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “I wanted to catch you off guard. Thought I’d remind you what it’s like not to be in control of everything for once.”

A small smile played on Hotch’s lips, and for a brief second, you saw a flash of the old Aaron, the man you had spent countless nights with, the one who could let his guard down when it was just the two of you.

The team, meanwhile, stood frozen in stunned silence. Morgan, who was rarely lost for words, finally found his voice, though it came out as more of a disbelieving mutter. “Did - did Hotch just chuckled? Like, a real laugh?”

Garcia, standing beside him, clutched her chest dramatically. “Not just a laugh, Derek. He’s smiling - with teeth! This is… I mean, someone pinch me, because this is a miracle!”

Reid blinked rapidly, looking as though he had just witnessed a phenomenon that defied all logic. “I’ve never seen him like this,” he whispered, his eyes wide as he tried to process what he was seeing. “This is… wow.”

Prentiss, who had been quietly observing from the sidelines, finally stepped forward with a small, teasing grin. “Well, Hotch, it’s nice to see you actually have emotions.”

You chuckled at that, turning to face the team, but Hotch’s hand never left your arm, as if he still wasn’t ready to let go. There was a softness in his expression that lingered, something none of them had ever seen before. His usual composure was cracked, but in a way that made him more human, more real.

Gideon, never one to let anything slide, reported the undercover mission of the two agents to Hotch with a sly smile. “It seems someone else was very eager to see her.”

Hotch's expression instantly shifted back to the familiar frown you remembered all too well, the one that usually followed when he was about to reprimand someone. His stern gaze turned toward Reid and Morgan, and he wasted no time. “Morgan, Reid, we’ll talk about this in my office in ten minutes. What on earth were you thinking?”

Morgan scratched the back of his neck, offering a sheepish grin, clearly bracing for the scolding. “She outplayed us, Hotch. We tried to sneak in, but she caught us the moment she walked into the room.”

Before Hotch could dive deeper into his reprimand, you stepped forward, raising a hand to intervene with a teasing smile. “Oh, come on, Unit Chief. Don’t be too hard on them. I just embarrassed them in front of my entire class. Give them a break, would you?”

The team chuckled quietly, sensing the playful tension between you and Hotch. He looked at you, his frown softening just slightly, though he kept his stern tone. “I hope this bravado isn’t something I’ll have to address again.”

You met his gaze, a playful challenge in your eyes as you raised an eyebrow. “It’s always a pleasure keeping up with your humor, Hotch.”

For a split second, the corner of Hotch's mouth twitched as if fighting back a smile, but he quickly composed himself. “We’ll see about that,” he said, his voice carrying the hint of affection he couldn’t quite hide.

“Hotch, you have a lot of explaining to do,” JJ said, stepping forward with a wide smile. “I mean, Hotch has never said a word about you. It’s like you’re this mystery we’ve all been trying to solve.”

You shook your head with a playful smirk, glancing up at Hotch. “Is that so? You’ve been keeping secrets? Well, don’t be mad if I’m the one pulling surprises, then”

Hotch’s gaze flickered to his team briefly, but then his attention returned to you. His eyes softened at the sight of your playful smirk. “I should’ve known you’d find a way to keep me on my toes. You haven’t changed.”

"Neither have you," you teased, though your eyes reflected something deeper, more sincere. "Except maybe a little grayer around the edges."

Hotch let out a brief soft chuckle, running a hand through his raven hair, and for a second, you caught that familiar crease between his brows - the one that appeared when he was genuinely trying to figure out if you were serious. “Yeah, well… the job does that.”

"Oh, not just your hair," you said, your tone playfully mischievous. His expression was puzzled, and the fact that he wasn’t catching on immediately made it even sweeter to make fun of him. You leaned in slightly, narrowing your eyes as if studying him closely. Then, with the precision of a detective pointing out evidence, you motioned toward his face. "Partner, you have a white eyelash - here, left eye."

Hotch blinked, genuinely surprised. He clearly hadn’t noticed it before, and his reaction was one of almost childlike disbelief. “A white eyelash? I didn’t even know that was possible.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. "You’re getting older, partner. It happens to the best of us."

There was a moment of stunned silence in the bullpen as Hotch - stoic, serious Hotch -stood there with the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips. And then, in the most unexpected twist of events, he actually laughed, the kind of sound that was so rare it felt almost sacred. The sound of it sent a ripple through the bullpen, where agents who were usually laser-focused on their tasks couldn’t help but turn their heads in disbelief.

Garcia, who had been standing nearby, looked like she might faint. Her hands fluttered toward her heart as if she couldn’t physically take much more. “Am I hearing things?” she whispered, her voice barely above a squeak.

Morgan, standing next to Reid, leaned in, eyes wide in astonishment. “Is this actually happening?” he whispered, glancing around as if waiting for the universe to correct itself. "Did she just-"

"Yes," Reid responded before Morgan could finish, his voice full of fascination, almost as if he were observing a rare natural phenomenon. "She did."

Hotch raised an eyebrow at you, amused by how easily you’d disarmed him in front of his own team. “A white eyelash, huh? You’ve been away for six years and the first thing you do is point out my aging process?”

You grinned. “Someone has to keep you humble.”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, and for a moment, the noise of the bullpen seemed to fade into the background. “I see you haven’t lost your touch either.”

“Neither have you," you said, more seriously now. "You’re still the same Hotch I knew, grayer hair and rogue eyelashes included."

The air between you settled into something familiar and comfortable, the kind of ease that comes with a partnership that ran deeper than time or distance. The team exchanged glances, clearly picking up on the history, the quiet connection between the two of you that they hadn’t been privy to before now.

Garcia looked like she might faint, her hands fluttering toward her heart as if she couldn’t take much more. Morgan leaned in toward Reid, whispering in disbelief, “Is this actually happening?”

Reid nodded slowly, still trying to process it all. “It’s happening,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “It’s really happening.”

Prentiss couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions. “I’ve never seen anything like this. Hotch is human after all.”

Hotch shot her a mock-glare, though there was no real bite to it. He was still too caught up in the moment, the reality of your return sinking in. “Watch it, Prentiss,” he warned, though his tone was light. He glanced back at you, his eyes softening again. “It’s good to have you back.”

Your heart clenched at the warmth in his voice, and for a moment, the years of separation seemed to melt away. “It’s good to be back,” you whispered, feeling the weight of the emotion behind those words.

As you and Hotch stood side by side, the team watched in stunned silence, the banter between you two flowing so naturally, as if no time had passed at all. The bond between you and Hotch was palpable, and though the team had only just met you, they could sense that this was something rare. This was more than friendship, more than partnership, it was a connection forged through years of trust, loyalty, and something even deeper.

JJ, sensing the depth of the moment, exchanged a glance with Morgan and quietly asked, “So… what were they, really?”

Morgan, still in awe of the connection between you and Hotch, could only shrug. “I don’t know, but whatever it is… it’s real.”

Gideon, who had been watching the entire interaction with quiet satisfaction, stepped forward, his gaze flickering between you and Hotch with a knowing smile.

“Soulmates,” he said simply, the word carrying a depth of meaning that everyone felt but couldn’t quite explain.

The bullpen fell silent again, the word hanging in the air like a truth that had finally been spoken aloud.

Soulmates.

Soulmates in the way that two people could understand each other so completely, so thoroughly, that it transcended words. You and Hotch had always been that for each other: partners, confidants, the steady presence in each other’s lives no matter how far apart you were.

You looked up at Hotch, your heart full, and smiled. “I guess we never really lost each other, did we?”

Hotch’s eyes softened as he looked down at you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “No,” he said quietly, the weight of the years in his voice. “We never did.”

And with that, everything felt right again.

The BAU was a family. And now, it felt like it was whole again.