#bade x reader

[bababaka]

Shipping Wars - Bade x reader

The prompt:

Person A, B, and C are famous. Their fame is growing and they are hesitant to come out as a poly couple so they just pass it for a really good friendship. Thing is, the internet being the internet started a shipping war. Some ships A and B some B and C some A and C. It’s starting to do some fights online. One day, they get tired of being asked questions about it and decide to come out as who they are.

Warnings: Aged up Characters. My writing and grammar. Some anxiety but nothing too much. Me not knowing how Twich works. I didn't truly revised it so...

Word count: 3.143

An -> I tried writing in portuguese and then throwing it into the google translate. Lotta work, let me tell you. Nah. It was a valid experience, though.Don't know if i'd do that again. Anyawyas. Love Bade and yeah. Here it is.

You liked what you did.

Entertain and chat with people on the internet who have the same interests, while playing some silly game or one that you've waited your life to play. Was funny. Interesting. Laugh and freak out on the internet with others.

In your five years on the channel, you've created a loyal, funny, and comfortable community. But, well, things started to take a bit of a left turn after the channel's first year.

The shipping war.

And the more time passed, and your popularity increased, the bigger the fight became.

@Yn'slapdog

Jpg.net 

Get yourself someone that looks at you like yn looks at Jade.

-> @Thatonetheaterkid

uuuhm i wish! Thats real love right there! 

-> @Yn'slapdog

Yyyyes! They are the reason i believe in love!

-> @Beck'sBack

whaaaat? Why? They are not a couple! Stop being a delulu! Jade is dating Beck!

Jpg.net 

I mean! C'mon! Look at them people! 

-> @Badeisreal

duuuude! Yes! Their chemistry in that movie was just off the charts! And that scene was improvised by the way! 

-> @Jade'sbottom

it was IMPROVISED??? WHAT? OMG! THAT IS MY FAVORITE SCENE! THEY ARE MY FAVORITE COUPLE!

-> @Badeisreal 

Right? Same! Also, i heard they are going to play as a couple in a new movie AGAIN! 

-> @Jade'sbottom 

jsjfjrkfkekfjdkdjdk Santa is bringing my gift

-> @Yn'slapdog

...its may…

-> @Jade'sbottom 

….Santa is late…

-> @Astarion'slittlebitch

ok. Guys. Take a breather. It is a crime you guys haven't mentioned Beck and Yn. 

They are so darn cute in yn's streams! 

-> @Imyourfather

YEEEEES! BECK BRINGS YN SNACKS ALL THE TIME! AND EVEN PLAYS SOMETIMES! 

-> @Thatonetheaterkid 

...i don't watch their streams… not really my cup of tea. 

-> @Y/n'slapdog 

You should though! There's a lot of damning evidence there! INCLUDING JADE MAKING COMPANY TO THEM! 

-> @Beck'sBack 

we back at this again? 

-> @Thatonetheaterkid 

oh, please! Jade and Beck are actors!!! They are meant to pretend!!! Fake! If they played a couple and didn't seem in love they'd just be out of job.

-> @Badeisreal 

There's somethings you just can't pretend tho!

-> @Imyourfather 

yes. There is. Thats cinema for you.

-> @Theoficialdreamer

What if they are just all good friends though? I mean. They do live in the same house. Maybe just roomates. 

-> @Yn'slapdog  

...get off my thread….

- Boom! That's how it's done! Pay up, guys! I warned you not to doubt me. I am a god.

You got out of your chair, jumping in front of the camera and computer, which showed the end credits of the game.

"I can't believe it! How many people have zeroed in the first time like that?"

"Few. And now they're part of them! What a legend. Mad respect."

"Look at theeem! Dancing with joy! How cute! I can't even be sad about losing the bet."

Yourmom donated $500.

Spideeey donated $500

"Ah! Come on!!! Really?! Noooooo!"

"Just pay, man. Accept that it hurts less"

"Ugh. Next time, I'll win the bet."

Mastermind donated $700

"You guys should just give up at this point. Yn is invincible"

Damn right i am! - you finally finished your extremely petty celebration. You did an event of ten challenges, and in each challenge, if you won, a group would pay you. If you lost, your subscribers would choose a punishment.

But, you were amazing. And didn't lose even once. Inside, you were scared to death of what they might ask. Your fans were cool. But they could cross some lines.

- So, that was the last challenge, right?

You waited and read the comments until you received a definitive answer from one of your moderators.

"Congratulations, Yn. You completed all ten challenges exceptionally."

Yn'srock donated $500.

- Sweet! I'm buying a new mattress after this! Mine broke.

Before the chat could react inappropriately to your speech, Beck appears at the door, out of view of the camera, but unfortunately his voice is audible.

- I heard screaming. What happened? - Normally, you would brush him off and get back to your stream, but, throwing caution to the wind, you turned your attention completely to him.

- What happened? It happened that I'm amazing and you owe me, baby!

- No.

- Ohohoho! Yes! - Beck joins you in front of the computer, the credits rolling on the screen. The actor's delicate, pretty face contorts, eyebrows furrowed, mouth contorted, and a defeated sigh. 

- How? You didn't even like AllSouls.

- Nope. But, a bet is a bet, I did it and now you gotta pay. The chat already did.

And that's when you turn your attention to your computer and notice the chaos in the chat.

Damn it.

This happened whenever Beck or Jade appeared on your streams. Sometimes it could be restrained. Like the times Jade remained by your side, almost sitting on your lap, throughout the stream. Or Beck would join and play with you. Your fans would get used to their presence.

But, well, there were moments, phrases, actions that turned your lives into a complete mess.

This was one of them.

"They are so cute!"

"Ooooh! Bet?? Bet what?"

"BABY??? I'm sorry, WHAT?"

"Bet, hm? The sexy kind?"

"Beck's so hot. Lucky yn"

"Wait??? Beck Oliver?? Wth? Im new someone explain to me"

"They live together. Jade West too."

"And they're also dating"

"Stop spreading fake news!"

"C'monnn! Admit it they'd look amazing as a couple"

"Guys! Stop! We don't know a thing! Respect their privacy please!"

- OK! OK! Let's stop, guys.

Beck laughed awkwardly. He had read the comments.

- Hi, chat. Long time no see.

"Yeah! You should come over yn's streams more often! 

"Oooh! You guys should play one of those games for couples"

"You should do pvp. I'd bet on Beck." 

- Ok! Ok! First. Stop betting against me. Learn your lesson, I'm the best. 

- Cocky. - He murmurs.

You continue, ignoring Beck. - And second, it's no big deal. Just because Beck played a million times and couldn't finish it without dying, he thought I couldn't. Well, you thought wrong, bitch!

-Okay, okay! I lost, you won. Satisfied? - Beck rolled his eyes, but the smile he had tried to suppress gave him away. And you couldn't stop smiling. 

- Not even close! - you had plans for Beck. Your back and neck were extremely sore, and your boyfriend had talented hands.

The internet and the outside world were unaware of your real relationship with Beck and Jade. They speculated, of course, but everything the three of you said was the same thing.

"Chat, we're friends. Stop."

"No, no. Beck and I are just good friends. It helps a lot when we play as a couple"

"We're not a couple."

"No."

"Just friendship."

"Are you stupid? Do you need me to draw? Friends!"

"F-R-I-E-N-D-S! We're just friends!"

It was a recurring question. Jade couldn't always stay calm. It was quite common for her to lose her cool actually. She was always like that, short tempered.

You met Jade and Beck in high school. And before you even finished your senior year, you were together. It was complicated. Painful. Difficult, but in the end, everything was resolved. And you have remained together ever since.

9 years later, and here you all were.

You've decided to try streaming. After 5 arduous years, you got your first million subscribers.

Jade and Beck pursued acting careers. And, along the way, they won a few awards here and there. Their goal was the Oscar. And you supported them more than anything.

They also created channels on YT. They weren't active like you, but every now and then they would record vlogs and other stuff.

Jade posts a "things I hate" videos series. And would terrorize unsuspecting civilians.

Beck talked about cars, and his hair for some reason. Both recorded backstage videos, and rarely, about life inside the house.

That was the problem. You appeared with a certain constancy on each other's social midias. Whether it was a video or a photo.

And that caused a stir. Which turned into ship wars.

- Hello, darling. - you threw yourself on the couch, next to Jade, who was smiling at the phone. - what you're doing?

- Ah, hey. - Without hesitation, she snuggled into your arms. - Nothing much. Just seeing how my last video is doing. 

- The cover one?

Yep. - She shows you her phone, a soft smile in her face, and her eyes just at ease. - You look cute playing a guitar. 

- Well, thank you. I agree. I should play more to you and Beck. - you say cocky. Jade huffs at that.

- Sure. 

- Anyways, babe, i was thinking. You, me, Beck, dinner? I'm cooking.

That got Jade's full atention and she stops staring at her phone to look at you.

- That sounds interesting.

- I was hoping to come off as romantic.

- It didn't.

- Not even if I say it'll have candle lights?

Jade cocks her eyebrow at this. 

- Kinda lame. Overused.

- Right. Right. What about me serenading you and Beck?

- Cute, but corny. 

- What about me doing your and Beck's favorite food, serenade you and make a reference to "the scissoring" at the end? 

Jade goes silent at this. And you realize that you had hit the nail on the head. You knew your girlfriend.

- Well, now i have expectations.

- Worry not. They will be met. 

- It better.

Lucky - cover by Jade West ft Yn

2.3 M views

140.787 comments

Thecurupira

Dude. I was just listening to this song! Definitely adding to my playlist. you guys ar releasing it on Spotify? I MUST LISTEN EVRYDAY

Littleprincess24

At this point they're just mocking us. WHY CHOOSE THIS SPECIFIC SONG??????

Zeldainmasteros34

KSNFKDNCKDNFKDNCKDNCKDK IM DYING JADE IS SO HOT! AND HER VOICE!!!! 

Whydidithavetobespiders

That's love.

Look at how they look at eachother.

I rest my case.

Kieranhotttt69

Yn can play the guitar??? And sing??? That's so hot of them ngl

Luke2385

Idk who i want to be. Yn or Jade.

The interviews with Jade and Beck all had something in common. The dreaded question.

- You are a couple in your newest film. Extremely in love. But, what about in real life, is there someone special?

Jade had improved a lot. The patience. Manners. And with Beck by her side, she could control herself.

- No. There's nobody.

- Really? But you are so beautiful and young.

Jade gritted her teeth. Fists opening and closing. Beck rushes in to interfere. He smiles, which many magazines call "the masculine charm".

- Haha. Life is like this. What can we do? We haven't found the right person yet.

The interviewer pauses. Her eyes slightly closed gains a manic shine. They had fallen right into the trap. It was like a predator, salivating at the sight of its defenseless prey.

- But, there are rumors that Yn, a famous streamer, who lives with you, has some involvement with one of the two. Is it true? Jade, on your channel, a cover was recently posted in which you do a very romantic duet. What can you say about it?

But, Jade West was never prey.

- Wow. You don't have intelligent questions to ask so you repeat the same question that a million people have asked? Do you think you will be the person to have a different answer? Do you think you're so special? Well, you're not. And I'm going to speak slowly, so that you can get into your fucking empty head, Yn and I are friends. Beck and I are friends. Nothing more.

The reporter was lost for words. She stuttered awkwardly and didn't know how to redirect the interview, completely embarrassed.

Beck sighs. Jade got better. She hasn't changed completely.

- I think this interview has come to an end. - Beck says. There's nothing he could do now.

The reporter didn't hesitate to jump out of the room. The silence that followed was uncomfortable. Jade crossed her arms. And she stared at the floor. Her leg starts to bounce. Nonstop. Until she can no longer bear the silence, the crushing feeling in her chest. - Are you angry? - she says, hesitantly. Beck sighs.

- No. It's okay. It was not your fault. She wasn't very kind.

Beck lifts Jade's head, his hand gently on her chin.

- It's fine. Come here. - and pulls her into a hug.

- This sucks. - Jade murmurs quietly.

- Yeah. It does...

- Hello losers. Another video. This time we're grocery shopping. - Jade starts talking to a camera.

- Do you really have to record it? It's just grocery shopping. - You asked. Not seeing why she would want to film your outing.

-I want to record so i will.

- Fine. - you shrug.

- Are you guys ready? - Beck comes into the living room.

- Yes. Say hi to the camera Beck.

- …Why are you recording? We are just grocery shopping.

- That's what i said!! - you chime in, excited to see you aren't alone in the matter.

- Oh my god! Because i want to! I don't have to, but i want to…You two are annoying. 

- Why thank you. I try my best. - you smirked. You did enjoy being a little shit.

- Fine. Let's go. Get to the car. 

Grocery shopping wasn't something you did together all the time. Mainly because someone was always busy. But it was faster when the three of you did it together. Beck was the driver, Jade was just picky about what she'd eat, and you were the muscles(though actually, you were the one who has more experience shopping. Jade just likes to try to spite you. Never works.)

- Ugh. I hate lines. 

- We know. - Beck answers it.

- But the public doesn't. 

- No, i think they do. You already made a video talking about it. - at this, Jade turns to the other actor.

- I did? Wait. You watch all my videos? 

- Every single one of them. 

- Uh.

- Why are you surprised? What kind of booy- Beck unmaskedly interrupts himself with a cough, and tries to recover. - what kind of roommate would i be if i didn't?

You thought that save was horrifying. And you tell Beck as much, mouthing it to him. He pushes you lightly, whispering a "shut up", you just chuckle and stay on the line. 

- Hey. Yn. What you are doing? - Beck asks. Interrupting you. Stoping you from beautiful and precious slumber.

- Napping. Or trying to. 

- You sound like an old person. 

- Perhaps because i am old.

- You are only 30 years old. Stop being dramatic.

- Nah. I need my old people nap. Bye. 

Unfortunate for you, Beck called Jade and they decided to take a picture of you. And make fun of you. 

Though Beck insists you look cute napping like an old lady. You didn't know how to take that. And Beck considered it as a victory. 

- Hello, old lady. - Beck greets you in the corridor to the kitchen. You huff, annoyed but also not completely awake. Until a thought comes to you.

- Wait. If i am your lover AND an old lady. Does that mean I am a cougar? 

You can hear Jade's booming laughter from the kitchen. 

Beck just rolls his eyes and gives you a peck on the lips. 

- Yes. It does. Good morning, by the way. 

You smile cheekily. 

- Good morning. 

You and Beck head to the kitchen then, where you see your gorgeous girlfriend still in her pajamas, brewing her black coffee, hair disheveled. Beautiful. 

She comes to greet the two of you, though when she gets to you she adds a little jab. Of course. 

- How is my favorite cougar? Slept well? No pain in your back? 

- Yes. I slept just fine. 

You decide to let it slide. You needed coffee first. 

Your breakfast at first was supposed to be calm. Quiet. Your phone however does not comply to it, beeping and beeping. 

- Hey. I thought we agreed on no phones today.

- Yeah yeah! Sorry. I just. Forgot to… - as you grab your phone and take a look at what it's bothering you and your partners, your humour just sours. 

Hundreds and hundreds of comments on your picture sleeping. On Beck's account. Just tagging you. Again. And again.

All fighting to know who was right about your love life.

Honestly, you were tired of it.

- Babe, are you okay? - Jade asks, noticing your change in mood, the frown, the twisted lip, the distant look. You look up from your phone.

- We should come out. - this quiets the kitchen. Jade with a hand on your arm, Beck still with a piece of toast in the air, on its way to his mouth.

- We should just come out. - you repeat. - I can't take any more of the speculation, the murmurs and buzz.

- Everyone would continue, even if we actually revealed our relationship. They would still gossip and be super invasive. - Beck replies, leaving the toast completely aside, and focusing on you. His face is serious. The lighthearted and fun atmosphere becomes more sober and heavy.

You have already discussed this. More than once, but in the end, you agreed that it wasn't worth the hassle, and you didn't owe other people anything.

And here you were again, debating the subject. This time, however, you found yourself unable to continue hiding.

- But, the media never stops talking and being invasive. It doesn't matter what we do. - Jade speaks up. She sighs, looking away for a moment. - I'm tired of having to lie. Aren't you, Beck?

Beck stares at the table blankly, letting his hands move repetitively along his legs.

- What if this affects our careers? - he asks. You quickly speak up.

- It won't get to that point, and if it does, it would only be temporarily. Our careers would recover. - you say, placing yourself next to Beck, Jade doing the same. And you try to lighten the atmosphere. - and if needed be, I can become your sugardaddy.

This makes them both laugh. And Beck turns to you.

- You'd make a terrible sugardaddy. - he says with a slight lift of his lips. Still stunned. He looks at you and Jade.

- Are you sure about this?

You and Jade share a look. You nod.

- Yes we are.

- With you, I can face anything.

You were in the living room. Your leg wouldn't stop shaking. The camera was in front of you. Jade was adjusting the lights, Beck was in the kitchen, getting water for you. It was now. The moment of truth.

Shit. What if you were making a mistake? What if you got ahead of yourself? What if it actually doesn't turn out okay? What if you are judged and shunned by everything and everyone? What if-

- Hey. - You were interrupted by Beck, beside you, placing a comforting hand on your thigh, and a charming smile on his face. - Everything will be fine. We are doing this together.

You allow yourself to breathe. Jade finally finishes the final adjustments and plops down next to you on the couch, while Beck hands you a glass of water. Your girlfriend snuggles next to you and kisses your cheek.

- I love you. - and all your tensions are gone. You melt into a puddle of love for your partners. You were together. You weren't going to face the public alone.

- I love you too. - you reply, completely smitten. You turn to Beck. - both of you. 

- You know I love you two. 

You shrug. 

- It's always good to hear. 

Jade laughs. 

- You are so sappy. - she says and you smile teasingly.

- And you love it. 

- Do i?

You push her and turn to start the video. 

- Hey, guys! Welcome! And today, we have something to announce. 

Yn, Beck Oliver and Jade West admit their relationship as a throuple and the internet goes crazy!

@Yn'slapdog

Ksjfjrnfjdnssosndkdksksjdksdbdj

@Beck'sback

...i guess this means we'll have to stop fighting…? Love wins…?

@Astarion'slittlebitch

...gotta admit this was not on my prediction chart bingo of this year…

@Badeisreal

Yn is one lucky motherfucker. Good for them. Hope theyre having fun living my dreams T-T

@imyourfather

The true bissexual dream lol

#bade x reader #Jade x reader #Beck x reader #victorious #Jade West #beck oliver #Poly #fanfic #my fics #Beck x Jade x reader

[munivrse]

gf!bada lee texts

andddd we're back 🧘‍♀️

cw: suggestive. nothing else really. mentions of death but in a lighthearted way. reader embarrasses themselves real bad but relatable 🧎‍♀️ live laugh love bada lee everyone

a/n: thank u for being patient with me 🧘‍♀️ if you have any text req for miss bada lee please send them !!!

#bada lee #bada lee x reader #smut #bada lee smut #bada x reader #bade lee texts #swf 2 x reader #swf2

[keanureevesisbae]

Kevin Atwater x fem!reader

Summary: Kevin Atwater loses his badge, however a very unexpected someone brings it to the station.

Wordcount: 742

Warnings: None

masterlist // one chicago masterlist //

Kevin hated himself for how he got so nervous around her, but after what happened today, he royally fucked up. He lost his badge. He has no idea how the hell he managed to lose his badge, therefore he also doesn’t know where to start looking. 

This morning he had it. Now he doesn’t anymore.

Kevin sits behind his desk, thinking about all the places he could’ve left it. 

‘Atwater,’ he hears the voice of Trudy Platt and he fears the worse. Her coming all the way up into Intelligence, she must’ve have something on his ass and if it’s badge related, he’s going to hear from it for eternity. 

‘Yeah, sarge?’ he asks, looking up from his work.

‘You got a visitor and she’s a cute one. Brought me a coffee, like the real saint she is.’ 

And behind sergeant Platt, the woman of the cafe he always goes to was standing. It was weird not seeing her wearing the cafe apron, but a thick coat over her frame, as it was freezing outside. ‘Hi,’ she says.

This is not the time to stammer, especially with the entire team, including sergeant Voight standing in the bullpen, watching his every move. ‘Hey,’ he says and he applauded himself for the good start. He stands up from his chair and makes his way over to her. ‘What… How… What are you doing here?’ Kevin asks as he’s closing in on her.

‘I figured your team could use some coffee. I brought a few different things,’ she says, holding up the carton holders. ‘I wrote down on each cup what it contains, so I hope I’ve got something for everyone.’ 

‘Yo Kev,’ Ruzek says, ‘where and why have you been hiding this girl. This is amazing.’ He’s quick to introduce himself to her and it’s actually the first time Kevin hears her name. 

He has been crushing on the woman behind the counter of his favorite cafe for quite some time now. He usually drops by Monday through Thursday, since she’s only working on those days.

As the rest of the team is introducing themselves to her, before they grab a coffee, she gently pulls him to the side. ‘I’ve got something for you,’ she says. She holds out something and that something is his badge.

The one he lost.

‘You found it?’ he asks, which is a stupid question. ‘Where?’

‘You left it on the counter,’ she tells him. ‘I managed to pry it out of a kleptomaniacs hand and figured you wanted it back.’ She lowers her voice as she adds: ‘Discreetly.’

He smiles in relief. ‘Thanks,’ he says. ‘This… This saved my ass.’

‘Well, thankfully I listened to you carefully, as you stuttered your way into impressing me every morning.’

He hated how accurate that was. ‘I see.’

‘Well, if your team asks about us,’ she continues, ‘and I suspect that they will, you can tell them how we’ve been on a few dates. So… It will not be awkward for you.’

Platt was right. She’s a saint.

‘Really?’ he asks.

She nods. ‘Yeah, I figure your team could give you a hard time for losing it. There is just one condition.’

‘Anything, I owe you big time.’

‘You’re taking me out, preferably tomorrow night, if—of course—you don’t have a case.’

Kevin has to admit: this woman is admirable. The more he gets to know of her, the more he starts to like her. ‘You think in solutions,’ he notes. 

She smiles. ‘Luckily for you, I do.’ She stands on her tippy toes and presses a kiss on his cheek, causing his skin to buzz. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow in the morning when you’re picking up your coffee. If it’s okay with you, I’ll be wearing a light green dress for our date.’ 

‘That’s all good,’ he says, feeling at ease with the woman, when usually he was nervous. She squeezes his hand, handing him a card with her name and number on it and then says her goodbye to the others. 

Kevin stares at the badge in his hand, together with the card, after he watches her go down the stairs. 

‘Kev, can we have her deliver coffee for us everyday?’ Halstead asks. ‘You get your kisses, we get our coffees. It’s a win win.’

Burgess smiles. ‘And maybe some more information about this mystery lady.’

He chuckles. ‘Let’s just solve the case and enjoy the coffee, ‘kay?’

+ + + +

Chicago PD taglist: @acdassenza // @wanniiieeee

#bade of honor #chicago pd #chicago pd drabble #kevin atwater #kevin atwater x reader #kevin atwater x fem!reader #kevin atwater fluff #kevin atwater drabble #kevin atwater imagine

[solreix]

shoko ieiri as yn's peace.

minsan nakakasawa na lang talagang magkaro'n ng paulit-ulit na ginagawa. gigising, papasok, mag-aaral, uuwi. buti sana kung ganoon kadali, pero sa pagitan no'n ay mayroong katakot-takot at nakakapagod na commute.

minsan, payapa rin sa pakiramdam na maupo sa bus, mag-isa, katabi ng bintana sa tuwing rush hour dahil oo pagod ka, pero alam mo ring pagod ang mga kasama mong pasahero. as if you share the similar, but also different struggles which makes you feel you're not alone.

since she reached college, yn had felt that. exhaustion. loneliness. in the middle of exhausted crowd. hustle lang nang hustle kahit pagod kasi wala namang choice.

she thought she already got accustomed to that life style, and it's okay. she's gonna grow old to that.

not until shoko ieri entered the picture. at ang dating mag-isang si yn sa tabi ng bintana ng bus, pinipilit na magising dahil alam niyang delikadong makatulog—ngayon ay may katabi na, at handang maging sandalan niya.

"okay ka lang?" bulong ni shoko. "sleep, love. mahaba pa."

napanguso siya sa sarili, isinandal ang ulo sa balikat nito bago sumagot, "sorry. imbis na naka-motor ka."

kaya niya namang nagcommute mag-isa. shoko might have insisted on sending her home through her motorcycle, but she refused. trauma sa kaniya ang motor, so she insisted on going home alone.

shoko chuckled. "pinili ko 'to ano ba. isa pa kapag naka-motor tayo, we wouldn't have moments like this," sagot nito.

pero makulit si shoko. mabuti na lang at halos pareho naman sila ng destinasyon kaya hindi na ito mahihirapan nan sobra.

"maghihirap magcommute para sa landi?" biro niya."

mas lalo itong natawa. pabiro nitong pinitik ang noo niya. "oo, para sa landi."

natawa rin siya. never did she imagine she would have someone by her side as she reach for her goals. sanay na sanay siyang mag-isa, being the only child, yet still not the favorite that she is.

but when she met shoko, she realized how it feels be taken care of—and to take care of someone not because she feels obligated to do so. she wants to take care of her too, every waking moment.

"how's your day, by the way?" tanong niya. ayaw niyang matulog as yn wants to enjoy this.

"ayon. ang sarap sakalin ni gojo, sinasadyang galitin si utahime." naramdaman niya ang mahina nitong pagtawa na parang may naalala. "lintik na 'yon, college na nanlalagay pa rin ng bato sa bag."

nanlaki ang mata niya. "umuusok na naman si utahime niyan." miski siya ay natawa. hindi pa man siya ganoon pamilyar noon sa magkakaibigan, ang dalas niyang marinig ang galit ni utahime kay gojo at geto dahil pare-parehas naman sila ng org.

"oo, bukas alam ko lalagyan niya ng palaka sa bag 'yung dalawa eh. nagpapatulong kila mai maghanap."

ganito ang bonding nilang dalawa sa bus. pag-usapan ang buhay ng iba. ng iba equals to kalokohan ni gojo at geto.

"mai?"

"mga freshmen sa isa pa niyang org," shoko replied. "tulog ka na," dagdag nito.

umiling siya. "ayaw. marami ka pang chika."

at nagtuloy lang sila sa pag-uusap tungkol sa nga tropa nito. comedy talaga kapag si gojo ang bida kaya halos nawawala ang antok niya sa bus.

sinusulit niya na, dahil panigurado, realidad ang sasalubong sa kaniya pag-uwi ng bahay. few months left, and she could already feel freedom, pero ngayon—suck it up. basta gigising siyang alam na one day, pareho na sila ng uuwian ni shoko.

"thank you, love," she suddenly whispered as she felt her eyes getting heavy.

"hmm?" shoko seemed to peek at her face, only to see yn fighting sleep. "no. thank you," she whispered back, and finally, yn drifted to sleep.

#bading #jjk #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen #shoko ieiri #shoko ieiri x reader #fluff #jjk fluff #jjk headcanons #first jjk here!! #self indulgent #jjk filo #jjk fanfic #filipino #filo fic

[kiss-inthekitchen]

no vacancy | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room. 

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off. 

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not. 

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night. 

That is, until you opened the door. 

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.  

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said. 

“Sure looks that way.” 

"At least it's a queen?" 

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time. 

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began. 

"I mean, I guess I don't really–" 

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–" 

"–mind as long as you–" 

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement. 

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”  

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be. 

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window. 

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.” 

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.” 

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team. 

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it. 

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep. 

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still. 

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke. 

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind. 

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.  

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers. 

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right. 

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that. 

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again. 

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you. 

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together. 

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell. 

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”  

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal. 

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot. 

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation. 

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.” 

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?” 

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him. 

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. 

“Sorry,” you managed. 

“For what?” 

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.” 

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.” 

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further. 

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.” 

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!” 

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.” 

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.” 

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.” 

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him. 

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat. 

“You just said ass.” 

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.” 

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.” 

“I knew you’d agree.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed. 

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting. 

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed. 

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep. 

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself. 

Eventually, exhaustion won out. 

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what? 

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black. 

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?! 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.” 

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well. 

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.” 

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand. 

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated. 

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way. 

“You were on my pillow, by the way.” 

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him. 

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.” 

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again. 

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back. 

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest. 

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious. 

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing. 

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?” 

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.” 

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer. 

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.  

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.” 

“Don’t profile me.” 

“I’m not. I just know you.” 

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.” 

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.” 

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.” 

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.” 

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip. 

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.” 

“I told you to stop profiling me.” 

This time, he just hummed in response. 

“And so what if I stuttered?” 

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.” 

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings for him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list. 

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–” 

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed. 

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.” 

“That all makes total sense.” 

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved. 

“Now tell me the rest of it.” 

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well. 

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and– 

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream. 

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent. 

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing. 

“Yes.” 

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word. 

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it. 

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.  

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry. 

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–” 

“It is.” 

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.” 

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.” 

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back. 

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you. 

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked. 

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.” 

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.  

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“  

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.” 

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed. 

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.” 

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.” 

“Are you certain of that?” 

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?” 

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.” 

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.” 

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.” 

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips.“It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.” 

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you. 

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed. 

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside. 

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again. 

“Okay, was it just me, or–” 

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed. 

“Spence?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?” 

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?” 

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless. 

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.” 

“Well, you kissed me.” 

“I did.”  

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed. 

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.” 

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.” 

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.” 

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.” 

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist. 

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it. 

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.” 

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer. 

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages. 

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.” 

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.” 

“You’re such an ass.” 

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up. 

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you. 

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker. 

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left. 

You text back: okay? 

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night. 

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face. 

You: what did u say? 

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first. 

You: i think u should say yes, obviously. 

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded. 

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success. 

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you 

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you 

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you. 

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;) 

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh. 

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask. 

Shit. 

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat. 

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you? 

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep 

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful 

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty 

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate?? 

Spencer: Yes 

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace. 

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn. 

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth. 

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed. 

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

[celesterayel]

midnight secrets | luke castellan

pairing : luke castellan x nyx!reader

request: can you write about luke and a daughter of nyx? <33

IN WHICH — he knows only one true thing: you put all the stars to shame.

"now I just wanna stay here and fall into midnight. Want nobody else now, only you, feel right" - a.

w.c. 1.9k

warning(s) : soft ゜✭・.

✩ ‧₊˚ author's note can you tell when I was younger I had fallen in love with the night and the idea of it? cuz I did. very much so, I'd say. also water, always loved the concept of it--the fragility and softness of it, like a balm against my skin.

long, long ago you learned of the sea of stars and their stories, from which rose their beginning and end. the stars were beings of heat and fire; they were beautifully mortal and alive.

they danced upon the domain of zeus; showering the sky with lights when night fell and befitting the world with their glow.

but as the sands of time bade the next and the corners of the sky dulled, the toll of living and breathing became too much. and so in the vast space of nothingness among the empty silence, the stars took on the duty of protecting a human and god: following where they might go, to every lifetime and universe as if they could erase the tragedy of the divine that swam through their blood.

and when each stars’ child died and their soul followed its ache to finally rest, the star would fall out of the sky in a blazing trail of destruction and divinity to taste freedom one last time and meet them in the next life.

there had been something raw and gruesomely alive about the stars when you learned of the story and so everyday, you’d trapeze the mortal line between night and sleep to watch them in absolution. you yearned to find an answer as to why? why would such immortal and imposing celestial beings like the stars willingly ruin themselves for us humans, for us beings that hungered for war and found pain like a symphony?

you learned your answer when you met luke castellan, your own tragic star who would follow you when the blood of the gods stopped flowing through your veins and your existence came to its calamitous end.

you had spent most of your life curiously confused as if there was something missing that made you feel broken; a piece of the puzzle that made drizzles seem like hurricanes and everything seem like an unsolvable mystery, constantly itching at your skin as if you just needed to pull back the layers and scratch.

and then, one day it stopped.

the buzzling in your head faded and you seem to finally just be.

luke castellan was the rain before the storm, the pain before the raw scream; every fatal, holy thing that meant absolution and destruction in the same manner. a price you were willing to pay if it meant loving him.

and you did–love him that is. every part of you ached with love for your golden boy who had weathered storms like they were his prison and had wanted like it was a fatal wound that might never heal.

you first met the golden castellan boy nearly a year after coming to camp where you were claimed to be a child of the night and stars, the goddess nyx; an absolution of divinity that you would be every dark, enchanting thing he would know. you were the only thing that would allow the hurt in him to finally cease its dance and just allow him to simply be.

while the blood of the gods flowed through your veins, the peace only night could bring was your cover. it was every paceless sleep spent at the docks praying to your mother for one more star to keep its dance, it was heaven and heartbreak in the same measure.

when both man and monster fell to slumber, it was the knowing that eventually everyone would cease their dance sooner or later.

people would watch you like you were a painting come to life as the moon basked you in waves of starlight and the forest came to life in your presence. when the night grew tired of its waiting and the stars lost their way, it was you coaxing them back to life to the restlessness all beings underwent.

you were a creature of presence and peaceful destruction, misfortune and desire–every loud, unsaintly thing the brown-eyed, dimpled boy had thought.

and he was your exact opposite: bold, bright and charming like the sun. it was as if hermes had threaded gold through his veins and ichor had poured forth to create whatever celestial thing luke was. a type of burn only the sun could bring when you went off to your death.

the night had settled upon the camp long ago and so nothing but the loudness of silence and pensive dreams continued its echo. except for the child of the night and her sun who seem to find balance between the bumbling and the glow of the soft moon.

luke grabbed your hand and threaded his fingers, clutching you tightly as if you’d disappear with the breeze and never return.

he guided you to the docks where the river reflected back the divinity of the night sky and lapped gentle waves against the shore. you sat side by side, silently basking in the quiet.

breaking the silence, he asked, “what’s wrong?”

what was wrong? you didn’t quiet know. there was just a sort of cloak of discomfort that had settled over you that you couldn’t seem to shake off.

“do you ever wonder what’ll happen next?”

you settled his hand in your lap and grabbed it like it was a lifeline, tethering your aching body back to the living when all you wanted was to fade. he only rubbed the back of your knuckle, soothing the skin and the bone-deep itch all at once.

you turn to gaze at him, and suddenly you were jealous of the moon and how it shined so beautifully on him like it was made for him to bask under.

he turns to look at you, “before no. now…every moment, i begin to think what makes us so different from humans that we suffer tragedy while they can live how they please and without the cruelty of the gods. I think about what will happen when i finally pass on from this life to wherever my soul may go.”

you don’t think you could handle leaving this world after him. it was a type of pain that would kill you inside out, you decided. you knew it.

there is vulnerability in him that speaks out, “and then i dream that none of that matters because someday you and i make it out of here. out of this place and away from gods and monsters.”

you only grab his other hand and the one you currently have trapped and place a kiss upon each of the palms, embedding all the affection you have for him in that moment. it is something so humanely lived that the world stops moving and the gods see a love for the ages.

he plucks you up from his side and merely places you in his lap, wrapping you tightly in arms like there is no war spreading and reaching it’s claws from the horizon toward the two of you.

you simply close your eyes, soaking in the boy who's holding you like you are a divine being.

“open your eyes and show me the stars, pretty girl.”

all he can think is the moon and stars, which you've fallen in love with so many times has nothing against you. and suddenly your staring the biggest star in the face, wondering if in another life you were the moon and he was the sun king.

but when he kisses you, you realize no. he is simply the star that will follow you when your bodies turn to ash, being picked up by the breeze. and there is only the secret that luke castellan would allow himself a thousand years of destruction if it meant following you where ever you go.

you two are simply a star and his love.

#luke castellan #some poetic shit here #im doing mind games with yall #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson show #annabeth chase #luke x reader #luke pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackson x reader #percabeth #sun and moon myth #greek mythology #percy jackson series

[lisired]

honeymoon avenue

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, fluff, stuck in an elevator with your ex-fiancé, exes to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

summary: A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

word count: 12.3k (complete opposite of a slow burn)

a/n: inspired by honeymoon avenue and my everything by ariana grande, undo (back to my heart) by tinashe, and ice queen by baekhyun. ‘tis the season! (it was xmas when this was originally posted lol). as always, feedback is appreciated!

Last year around this time, you had arranged to be wed. You recalled restlessly counting down the days until your lover would meet his lips to yours in front of all of your friends and family once granted the greenlight to kiss the bride. 

You had everything planned down to a “T.” The banquet hall would be emerald and burgundy. There would be an arch above you where a mistletoe would hang. The wedding cake would have Jaehyun’s surname. And everyone’s attire would be formal, though seasonal. 

It was supposed to be the best day of your life. 

A winter wonderland wedding seemed like an apt choice for you. You were so, so cold, but there was still an air of warmth to you. Now, your heart was unthawed. 

This Christmas - much like the last - you would be alone. 

It stung knowing you would be lonely for the second Christmas in a row and there was nobody at fault but yourself. You were miffed at your own behavior, but gave yourself no time to dwell on the past, doing what you knew how to do best - work until your brain went numb.

There was plenty on the roster today. A corporate meeting, phone calls to answer, and reports that wouldn’t type themselves. And that was to be brief. Speaking of which, you needed to brief employees about new protocols.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you chanted impatiently to yourself, tapping your foot against the floor. The elevators in your apartment were running later than usual today.

You heaved a breath of relief when the doors chimed open. Out went a group of people and in went you. Maneuvering your body to press the first floor button, you came to a halt when you noticed it was already selected and gleaming. 

That was when you finally noticed the man in the elevator - the only other person there with you - glancing down at his phone. You leaned against the railing and shifted your attention to the door nonchalantly, writing off the stranger as the very least of your concerns. Getting to work on time was paramount. 

As it always was.

Morning traffic is going to be brutal, you thought with a grimace. Every thought in your head revolved around work and how long it would take you to get there.

It would seem you would have no time for your morning coffee run. You remembered those times when you’d stay the night at Jaehyun’s, waking to a hot cup of coffee that he’d made just the way you liked it waiting for you.

Four words would permanently be etched into your memory. Have a good life.

With some disdain, you bade the thought retreat. Jaehyun was no longer a part of your life and you doubted he would want to be ever again. Not that you blamed him. It was your punishment alone. 

The elevator gave a jolt and you gripped the elevator for dear life, screeching, “What the…?”

The floor indicator donned the number one in a big, bold shade of red, though ironically, the door gave not an inch. Which was odd. You pressed the button that ostensibly opened the door in these types of situations, but to no avail. 

“Are we stuck?”

Your head snapped behind you and you nearly broke into a cold sweat when you noticed that the man lone in the elevator with you was no other than your ex-fiancé. 

Living in the same apartment complex as the man you were once fated to marry was no easy feat, but the multiple years of seeing each other made it simpler to avoid him. For one, you knew one another’s routines and thus what time to be out the door either before or after the other. 

That said, you had seen Jaehyun a couple of weeks ago, but the last time you’d spoken was when he returned all of your things from his apartment. Have a good life. Those were the last words he’d exchanged with you. 

That had been approximately a year ago, a couple of weeks before Christmas and the day you were supposed to say, “I do.”

“Appears that way,” you replied, clearing your throat. 

Jaehyun had his phone in his pockets now. You held your breath as you gave him a once-over. He was still handsome as ever, though that was to be expected. As far as you were concerned, he looked more or less the same as the last time you’d spoken, only his hair was a little lengthier. He still looked rather displeased to see you. 

And he was wearing a suit. Which meant he was most likely also trying to go to work. 

You frowned. Now you were thinking about Jaehyun in suits. Needless to say, that was a sore spot. 

A voice came over a speaker and you recognized it as Yangyang’s, one of the apartment staff. He spoke like he was reading from a textbook, “Passengers, do not be alarmed. Our technical team will be arriving shortly to repair the service. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You mused aloud, “Can he hear us?”

“Loud and clear,” Yangyang chirped. 

“How long will it be before someone can help us?” you asked, never keen on being late. 

“I can’t say, ma’am. Anywhere from fifteen minutes and a couple of hours.”

You interjected to screech, “A couple of hours?”

Jaehyun clamped a soothing palm on your shoulder to calm you down. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his touch could ease you even a year after he broke off your engagement.

Yangyang explained in his usual exuberant tone, “The weather and usual early traffic may cause a delay, ma’am. They will be arriving as swiftly as possible and servicing is already underway by our maintenance staff.”

“Thank you, Yangyang,” Jaehyun said, smoothing his palm down your back. 

“Have a nice day, Mr. Jung. You too, ma’am.”

You heaved a breath. “So, it looks like we’re going to be here a while.” 

“Hopefully not that long,” Jaehyun said, recouping his hand. 

Though it stung, you understood. It went without saying that being trapped in an elevator with the ex that abandoned him was not part of today’s plan. He may have called off the engagement, but you were the one that left him high and dry. 

You broke his heart. Not only that, you stole his future. Everything he ever dreamed of, a wife and children, was thrown out the window because of your selfishness. 

Jaehyun recognized you would both be stuck together for a while and rather than sit in awkward silence, he asked, “How’s life?”

Darn him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the last words he had said to you out of your head. Have a good life. 

The breakup was bitter and stone-cold. Jaehyun made a couple of things unmistakably clear with those four words alone. For one, he was cutting you out of his life for good. And he no longer desired to be imprisoned within yours, being punished for no good reason at all. 

And you never fought him - never fought to win him over. Maybe because you had already known for some time that your engagement was in danger. It was beyond reclaim. Irrevocably damaged. 

Never one to appear weak, you said, “Good. Really good. I was promoted to secretary.”

Jaehyun perked up. You got what you wanted. But did I deserve to be the sacrifice, baby? Was it worth it? 

“Still a workaholic I see.”

You frowned. “Old habits die hard. How have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t promoted or anything, but everything’s been pretty good over here.”

You had no doubts. Jaehyun was an editor and his line of work gave him plenty of leeway. For the most part, he worked from home, though there were instances where he came into the workplace. At least, when you last spoke, that is. 

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” you said, willing yourself to smile. A part of you was strangely bitter. It didn’t want to see him happy without you. 

Though you no longer followed each other, Jaehyun still popped up on your Instagram homepage every now and then. And perhaps you’d searched his page more times than you cared to admit. Everything about his page was achingly sentimental and reminiscent of your past together. 

Pictures of him at museums or bridges at nighttime or parks with his hair whipping through the breeze. Once upon a time, you were the one taking those pictures of him. Now, you wondered who was behind the camera, living the life you’d carelessly given away. 

“Thanks,” was all he willed himself to reply. 

Your eyes instinctively fell to your watch and your head fell back as you groaned, “God, I’m going to be late for work.”

Jaehyun fought a snort. “Yeah, me too. At least there’s still some good news.” 

“Like what?”

“It’s warm in here,” Jaehyun commented lightheartedly. 

You chuckled. What a way to relieve the tension. Though Jaehyun never failed to make you laugh with ease. Except for when you broke up. Nothing was funny then.

Those weeks leading to the breakup may have been worse than the day it actually happened altogether. The feeling of knowing something was inevitably bound to happen yet being unable to prevent it was arguably worse than the emptiness you felt when Jaehyun announced he no longer wanted anything to do with you. 

Emptiness numbed you to the pain for a couple of days. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All you could feel was a bitter, nipping cold enveloping you, eventually splitting you right down the middle. 

Jaehyun subtly eyed you as you typed a message to your boss, warning him that you may have been late for work and telling him to proceed without you. Maybe some things never changed. You were still gorgeous, that was for sure. But you were also still married to your work. Ultimately, that would always prove to be your downfall. 

It seemed like only yesterday you were his. He was planning to meet you at the altar, itching to sweep you into his arms and kiss you the moment you were pronounced husband and wife. 

You had always been a workaholic. At one point, Jaehyun loved it about you. He never thought your relationship would be foredoomed because of it. Devoted and loyal were two terms that described you strongly. 

Although, maybe you had been too devoted to the wrong thing.

Your broken engagement was a prime example of what happened when you applied too much pressure to one thing and neglected the other. It was the wretched result of not finding balance. 

Everything you ever hoped and dreamed of flashed before your eyes. Once upon a time, you were both making plans to move into a house together. You wanted a pet. And you were thinking about children. 

Now, you were all alone. And you had never felt colder. 

For some reason, the absurdity of your predicament hit you merely moments after you sent the text message. It just didn’t seem probable to be trapped in an elevator with your ex-fiancé. Much less alone. You threw your head back and whined, “I mean, what are the odds.”

Jaehyun pitched you a confused glance. 

You winded a hand through your hair and elaborated, “Us being stuck in the exact same elevator and forcing ourselves to pretend we don’t mind. If I remember correctly, you had no intention of hearing from me again.”

“I think we should spare each other the awkwardness,” Jaehyun replied, donning an impassive expression. And tone. 

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Jaehyun being kind to you should not have been mistaken and was probably more or less because he wanted to avoid as much tension as possible - not because he didn’t hate you. 

Jaehyun spoke up again to ask, “How long have we been here?”

You glanced at your phone and read the time. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“So, we’re going to be here for a couple of hours,” Jaehyun quipped, trying to lighten the mood the best way he knew how. 

You winced, hoping there was an in between. “Not like I had anything else to do,” you mumbled. 

Jaehyun himself wasn’t exactly bummed about missing a day, or at least a couple of hours. Though this was you. He used to joke that hell would freeze over the moment you decided to actually take a day off. “They will survive without you for a while,” he comforted softly. 

You scoffed. You were carrying that company on your back. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. The whole building will be in flames if I’m not there within an hour tops.”

“I’m sure,” Jaehyun scoffed. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

I have, you thought wistfully. Jaehyun fought harder for your relationship than you ever tried, but enough was enough. He was at his limit, giving more than he was receiving and he couldn’t let you take advantage of him anymore. 

Though it was intended to be a compliment, for whatever reason, your heartache was only amplified. You swiftly changed the subject. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going to spend some time with my family.”

That caught your attention. “You haven’t been seeing anyone?”

Jaehyun only shook his head. He was afraid of opening his mouth and saying something that would make shit awkward again. For all he knew, you two would both be stuck together for potentially the next couple of hours and he did not want to spend it in suffocating silence.

Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t deny that after your engagement was broken off, finding other girls had been hard. They came a dime a dozen, but none of them remained. Even after you were long gone, bits of you lingered, scattered everywhere across his life.

Jaehyun went to bed and thought of nights spent cuddling you to sleep. He visited his favorite cafe and thought of your go-to order. Jaehyun hooked up with other girls and thought of how beautiful you looked writhing underneath him, your voice calling out his name in a cry, dripping with sweet honey. 

Though you were forever gone, the memories of you still haunted him everyday. For so long, he had been convinced he was made for you. You were the only woman he ever wanted. 

And he couldn’t have you. 

Jaehyun commanded the thoughts to go away. You stopped being his long before the breakup. “You?”

“Oh, you know. With my line of work, I just don’t have the time,” you replied bashfully. 

That Jaehyun knew all too well. Just a little. 

He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you.” 

Guilt suddenly plagued your chest. Every second beside him you were reminded of the fact that you were the one who ruined a beautiful thing. You had gotten what you strived for, though in hindsight, the lengths you went to get it were brutal and cold-hearted. 

You had sacrificed so much of yourself to get to where you were. And now that you were standing at the top, you could finally see the collateral damage you’d inflicted at the bottom. 

There was only a good couple of feet to separate you and Jaehyun. And you absolutely loathed it. There was more distance between you when he uttered those four words permanently etched into your memory, before turning and heading out of your front door. 

Jaehyun fancied it no more than you did. Walking away had been hard. He looked back, but never stopped. A year ago, he was convinced that he would have moved on by now. But no matter how far apart you were, his heart was still one of your captives. Not only did he leave a piece of it with you, but the whole damn thing. 

He wanted it back. Damn it, he wanted you back. He wanted back every piece of himself he gave you, but above all else, he wanted back what you had. To go back to the way everything was the day he got down on one knee and asked for permission to hold your heart forever. 

He remembered like it was yesterday. Earlier that spring, he took you to a bridge. Not only was it one of your favorite spots in the city, but it was where you both first said I love you. 

Maybe that was why. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit it anymore. The memories were too painful. 

Just like the first time he took you there, night had fallen. The bridge overlooked a river, moonlight cast into the water. Purple lights made the trail glimmer. But the moon was a little fuller, the air a little cooler. 

Not that either of you minded. To be with you, he was content. 

You were beaming. Even before he proposed. None of you could stop thinking about the night you first said that you loved each other. But when Jaehyun asked you to marry him underneath the moonlight, you were over the moon. 

You were chanting, “Yes!” Jaehyun had to sweep you into his arms and meet his lips to yours to cut you off. A very long time ago, the memory made him smile. Now, it made his heart swell with agony. 

His eyes were sad. And understandably a little angry. Even after all these years, you could still read him clear as day. You wondered if he could read you, too. You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun heaved a deep breath. An apology wouldn’t fix his broken heart and saying you were sorry wouldn’t undo the heartache you inflicted on him. It wasn’t okay. He hated you for leaving him lonely. For choosing your job over a future together. He would never forgive you for it. “I never wanted much. I never wanted all of your time. Only a little was all I was asking for.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, Jaehyun,” you said, exhaling a sigh of your own. 

All Jaehyun did was shake his head and murmur under his breath, “Classic.” 

A part of you bristled. Why Jaehyun always wanted to hash things out with you was a mystery. Fighting was draining and you never had the energy. A long day of work left you with only enough strength to take a long hot shower before crawling into bed. 

Not Jaehyun. He would never understand. The pressure to succeed, the struggle to unlearn the definition of success you were taught even before your adolescence. 

A year ago, everything was falling apart in your relationship. You were arguing more, spending time together less. Jaehyun was trying to salvage what was left. In his mind, fighting with you was better than not speaking to you at all.

Most of your memories with him were unforgettable, but when they were bad, they were excruciating to think of. You could still remember the last argument before the uncoupling. 

December was still fresh and the air was frigid, numbing your senses until you stepped into your warm apartment. Jaehyun was waiting for you there. A smile tugged your lips when you hung your coat and excitedly bounced into the kitchen, smelling hot chocolate. 

“Baby, I’m home,” you sang radiantly. At one point, it used to be your favorite line to say. A lifetime of obsessing over movie cliches was to blame. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and simpered. You looked nothing less than exhausted, though he found it cute on you. “Hey, my love. How was your day?”

You instantly groaned, “I’d rather not talk about it. Or think about it, for that matter.”

“Will a cup of hot cocoa make it better?”

You propped yourself on the island and flirted, “Made by Barista Jaehyun himself? Of course.”

Jaehyun handed you a mug and you accepted it gracious, muttering, “thank you.” He was the sweetest thing you could ask for. Even sweeter than the hot cocoa warming your palms. 

That was how the arguments always began. They were sweet, innocent moments - until they weren’t. 

Your lover dipped behind the island and returned with a mug of his own, still steaming with freshly hot cocoa. You thought absolutely nothing of it. Not until he opened his mouth. “How does a date night on Friday sound?”

You frowned. “This Friday?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun said, rubbing his nape. “It’s been a while, you know. Since we’ve gone out on a date.”

That was true. Jaehyun always had some extra time to spare. He wanted to spoil and indulge you at every given chance. But you were always busy. Even when you were off the clock, you were still on the clock. And more often than not, you brought work back home with you. 

“I’m so busy and so tired, Jay,” you whispered gently. God knew you wanted to, but you didn’t have the time and much less the energy. 

“I get that,” Jaehyun started. “But can’t you take even a day off?”

“I’m aiming for a promotion, Jaehyun. I have to prove myself. My boss has been dangling this shit in our faces for the past few months. I can’t let an opportunity like that slip away.” 

Jaehyun was rapidly getting frustrated and reminded, “You do realize we’re getting married in a few weeks, right?” 

Your eyes flickered. “Yes, I do. And I plan to be there.”

“At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stood me up.”

Your heart sank. “How can you say that?” 

“How couldn’t I?” Jaehyun snapped, evidently pained. “We’ve been engaged for the past nine months, but it doesn’t feel like I’m about to get married. It feels like I’m losing you because you’re too absorbed in your goddamn job.”

“Are you asking me to choose you over my job?” you asked, standing to your feet. This entire argument was an affront to your pride. 

“No. There is no point in giving you an ultimatum when I already know that you will choose your job every time without hesitation - you already do. I’m asking you to make room for me, but I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You countered, “I do want you.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun snapped, skeptical. “You can’t even go on a date with me. You want a promotion more than anything else.”

You sighed, “I don’t want to fight, Jay.” 

“I know that. You don’t want to fight for anything,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “You would rather watch us burn to ash than fight for us.” 

Anger plagued you and you were prepared to hurl something back, but he didn’t give you the chance. 

Jaehyun added, “I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.”

Your words were cold as ice, “Then, leave.” 

And the rest was history. 

There was nothing you could say when Jaehyun left you, no fight for you to give. It was you that sent him away. It was you that made him leave. He had only given you what you asked for. 

Old habits died hard. The one-year anniversary of both the breakup and the day you were supposed to be married was rapidly approaching and to distract yourself from the pain, you were burying yourself in work. You didn’t want to think about Jaehyun and what you almost had. Not even for a second. And then, today came and ruined everything. 

Now, you were being forced to confront the past. 

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. God, you wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Tears burned your eyes, but you would never let them fall. Not with Jaehyun there. You didn’t want him to see the mess he’d left of you - how miserable you were without him. 

You wanted to mend everything back together, but it was too late. Everything was irreparably broken. You had the opportunity to patch things up, and you passed it up. No more time could be wasted crying for the moon. 

And still, somewhere deep inside, you knew Jaehyun would steal it for you. 

Jaehyun saw your eyes and softened a little. Damn it, they still made him weak. Your tears were made of diamonds and they were priceless. Jaehyun said, “My mother still talks about you, you know. She asks me when we’re going to get back together.”

Your eyes flickered. “That’s… interesting,” you lied. “I thought she would hate me. And be more protective of her baby.” Because I broke your heart. 

“You know my mother always loved you,” Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I don’t think anyone believed in us more than her - not even ourselves.”

Somebody had to, you thought weakly. Though Jachyun was a romantic to his core, even he had to eventually throw in the towel.

Everyone thought you and Jaehyun would be the perfect match. Each of your families were anticipating a beautiful wintry nuptial ceremony on Christmas day. And when news of the uncoupling broke loose, your people weren't exactly shocked, but they were heavily disappointed.

You were clearly the problem. Until you learned how to balance, you would never be happy in love.

Up until now, you were beginning to become content with that fate.

Though now, your heart was greedy.

Jaehyun’s mother crossed your mind. She was the epitome of an angel and the fact that she still wanted you in her son’s life after all the pain you caused him was deafening. But what about what Jaehyun wanted? Does he even still love me?

Every moment spent with his mother had been wonderful. She spoke fondly of him and vice versa and supported him unconditionally. It was true motherly love and it made your chest stiffen, taut with envy. Ever since you were a kid, you only knew pressure. Your parents wanted you to have the life they didn’t when they were your age, but they were very strict in how they went about it. 

Tough love was all you received. They didn’t help you through trying times. You were expected to suck it up. You were taught that tears were a sign of vulnerability and vulnerability was weakness. 

You fought them back with everything you had and said, “How does she know I wouldn’t mess things up again?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun told you, not disputing the fact that you had essentially destroyed everything. It stung, but it was the truth. “She says ‘a mother knows best.’”

Jaehyun watched you struggle to hold yourself together. You were good at pretending to be okay and smiling through your pain, but he was even better at seeing through you. He saw you through a lens that only a man who loved you with his whole mind, body, and soul for years could see. He saw all your weaknesses, all your flaws. But he never judged and he saw something else in them, too. What made you beautiful. 

“But what do you want?” It was killing you. For as long as you stood there, you needed to know. 

“I wanted you,” Jaehyun replied honestly. “But you wouldn’t let me have you.” 

You shook your head. “You had me. Every piece of me - it belonged to you.” 

“That’s not how I remember it,” Jaehyun muttered. “You had my heart, but your work had yours.”

“That’s not true.” 

Jaehyun was firm. “It is and you know it.” 

“I loved you,” you told him softly. 

“Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

You gripped the railing to anchor yourself. It didn’t move, but you could feel yourself slipping into weakness. “I don’t know how to stop, Jaehyun. I think it’s a part of me now. It’s hard to stop doing something you’ve done your whole life.”

I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that woman was long gone. 

A cloud of melancholy came over you, pouring over you and Jaehyun. He told you somberly, “I could have helped you if you would have let me in. But you were pushing me away.” 

“I know,” you said, meeting his dark eyes. “But I wish I would have known back then. I never realized I was breaking us apart. Not until it was too late. I thought I was doing what was best…”

Jaehyun finished darkly, “You were doing what was best for yourself. Not for us.” 

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but quickly accepted he was right and instead said, “I was wrong. I was selfish. I wasn’t considering how any of it made you feel and that’s a decision I have to live with now.” 

“Do you regret it?” I need to know if my broken heart was worthwhile.

Your eyes burned. “Every day of my life.” 

“Why?” Jaehyun questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “You got the promotion. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“I thought it was,” you muttered. Your chest was swelling with self-disgust and agony and anger. Not at Jaehyun, but at yourself. “But when I lost you, I realized that everything I needed was already right there. Until it wasn’t.” 

Jaehyun was quiet but pensive. As if he was trying to trace exactly where everything started going wrong. 

Even in school, you were devoted. You were the valedictorian of your class. Jaehyun used to steal you away to kiss you behind the bleachers. But you would always be there for his basketball games, cheering him on better than any cheerleader. 

High school sweethearts, he thought wistfully. In high school, you won prom king and queen. Everyone thought you would last forever. That only God himself could part you.

How beautiful it was to be young, dumb, and in love. 

Jaehyun knew your issues stemmed from your childhood. When you were still in high school, sometimes you had to blow him off to study. He remembered you cancelling hangouts because your parents refused to let you out of their house until you studied until you were cross-eyed. Their house, their rules, was the policy. 

But he also remembered those nights when he would hear a knock on his bedroom window and smile when he saw you beaming at him through the glass. One December night, you were crazy enough to sneak out during the nipping cold, shivering and rubbing your arms outside his window. 

Though it was many years ago, Jaehyun remembered that night clearly. His mother made you hot cocoa and promised not to tattle. She always had a soft spot for you and held some disdain for your parents. She claimed they worked you too hard. 

Everything was so perfect back then. He knew what changed, but he couldn’t understand why. You used to make time for him whenever you could. As the pressures of adulthood caught up to you, it all came to a slow, brutal end. 

But why?

Then, leave. Those were the two words he would never forget. They were powerful than the I love you’s - more powerful than the I miss you’s. Your clipped, icy tone, would maybe someday be forgiven, but never forgotten. 

A stubborn wound was forevermore slashed on his heart waiting for you to heal it. 

You were breaking. Every part of you was crashing down. A familiar ache split your heart right down the middle. “I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Your ex-lover was mawkishly nostalgic and sentimental and never said he forgave you, for that would take a while longer, but told you, “I knew I was the second priority in your life after your career. And I was okay with that. Then, it started to feel like I had no place in it at all. I was at the end of my tether, a stranger to the woman I was supposed to marry, and I knew we couldn’t carry on like that, my love.”

My love. That was what Jaehyun always used to call you. Your eyes flickered. “Do you still…?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over you,” Jaehyun admitted forlornly. 

That was when the dam broke. Jaehyun had dismantled you piece by piece and left you vulnerable. You had no strength to fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Jaehyun’s arms, as they always were, were wide open. He pulled you into his warm embrace and let you sob into his chest, smoothing his hand down your back and protecting you from the sharp coldness of your own pain. You were beleaguered to remember the last time you let yourself cry. You let everything pile up until the water pressure became too much. 

“Shh. It’s okay. Let it out,” Jaehyun crooned, gently stroking your hair. “You’re not weak.” 

There was an ache resurfacing in your body and it was purely unshakable. Your heart was whole, but hollow. Only its pleas to be back with Jaehyun - where it belonged - rang out in the icebound, empty void. 

Being in Jaehyun’s arms only made you nostalgic and the pain hit you harder. You thought regretfully of those moments in the past when he would hold you for all to see. And you remembered going to bed and always knowing he was still there, because you would feel his arms still tight around you and smile. Like he wanted to protect you, even while asleep. 

You sobbed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun gently pushed you back only a little and looked you in your eyes. He wiped your cheeks with his thumb and told you calmly, “You made a mistake. We all do.” 

The gesture made you soft and weak. Goddamn it, you were so weak for him. Like your knees would give in any moment now. 

“Not like the one I made, though.” 

“That’s true,” Jaehyun said. “But do you regret it?”

Your voice wavered, “More than anything.”

“Then, I forgive you.”

You shook your head, not knowing how to accept that. You didn’t deserve forgiveness. You didn’t deserve understanding. But that was the kind of person Jaehyun was. 

He deserves someone better than me, you thought somberly. But you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if he found that someone. 

“You should hate me,” you said softly, voice cracking. “I broke your heart. I broke us.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You know what my mother always says?” 

“It doesn’t only matter if you break something, but if you’re willing to put it back together,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother. She always treated you like you were her own. 

Jaehyun nodded and asked, “Are you willing to put us back together again?”

You mulled it over. There was no doubt that you were willing. Back then, you were too in your head to notice reality. Now, you were blindsided by pain and regret and inclined to do anything to make it stop. “What it I mess up again?” 

“Relationships aren’t perfect. People fuck up and people make mistakes. You’re only human,” Jaehyun told you frankly. “I’ll be there to help you clean it up. But don’t let me pull all the weight. We both have to fight together.”

“Okay.” You knew what you wanted now. It wasn’t that job. It wasn’t a promotion. It was the man that had spent half his life loving you, and would still love you for the other half. “I’m willing.”

Jaehyun smiled. A part of him couldn’t fathom how this was happening. The hole in his heart was steadily being sealed. He pulled you back flush against his chest. 

The tension in the air seemed to alleviate then. You could finally breathe again. Being in a tight space with the love of your life didn’t feel suffocating anymore, but closer to relief. 

You were talking freely again. You missed just being able to have a conversation with Jaehyun, recalling those times when you would discuss anything under the sun. Long nights of talking the moon away knowing full well you had work in the morning hit you. With Jaehyun, the small talk was skipped. You could discuss anything and everything. 

There was no worry, no fear. Sometimes, there would be tension, but never the unpleasant kind. Only moments ago, those times seemed like merely a distant memory. Now, there was hope that you had Jaehyun back. 

In his arms, you realized that was where you belonged. It was your safe haven in a world filled with danger. Your secrets were safe with Jaehyun and you were free to be vulnerable, because you knew he would never betray you. No matter what happened between you both, whether you were angry or in love, you knew whatever you told each other would forever remain under lock and key. 

“Do you remember the arch?” you asked, wistfully recalling what could’ve been. “I wanted a mistletoe up there. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought of kissing you underneath it for the first time as your wife.”

Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I remember. I also remember you wanted John Stamos to marry us because he was your, and I quote, ‘true first love.’”

You nudged his side. “Hey, I would have also accepted Shemar Moore.”

Goddamn it, now Jaehyun was thinking about kissing you. His eyes fell to your pretty lips, still as enticing as they used to be when you were his. Never had he wanted to kiss you so badly. Like it would heal the wounds caused by missing you. 

Can I… can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asked. 

You said with no hesitation, “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

Now that he had your permission, Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to envelop your lips in his. Only then did you realize how much you missed feeling his lips on yours, how much you craved tasting his tongue in your mouth. You had gone so long without, but ironically, he still felt like home. And making out with him felt right as ever. 

Jaehyun kissed you so fiercely that he nearly swept you off balance and caught your hips in his arms. Your fingers threaded through his hair, back against the railing. He kissed you to make up with the wasted times he spent with other people. You kissed him to make up for the wasted times you could have spent with each other. To fill the void and patch each other back up. 

He taught you what love was. It was letting each other in instead of freezing each other out. It was was building something beautiful together and fighting to protect it instead of letting it all fall apart and into ruins. 

Kissing you eased Jaehyun’s heart. His pain was forgotten and he was overwhelmed with his undying love for you. He would never get over you, no matter how hard he tried. A love like the one you had would take more than a lifetime to get over you.

The way you immediately clicked, it was like you knew each other in a past live. Even now, his feelings were unabating. In his next life, it would still be you and only you. Always and forever. 

You were so besotted with Jaehyun and the way his lips tasted that neither of you noticed the elevator door opening. 

Yangyang cleared his throat. “Um, guys?” 

Both of you whipped around, more than a little shocked to see the door open with Yangyang standing in the middle to prevent it from closing on you. 

Jaehyun looked at you and asked, “How long have we been in here?”

“Approximately two hours,” Yangyang chirped. “You’re free to go now. By free to go, I mean please exit the lift. As you can see, there’s a bit of a line.”

You looked behind Yangyang and saw a couple of people impatiently waiting to travel upstairs. You lowered your head and flushed. Jaehyun laced his fingers through yours and led you outside of the elevator, smiling like a dumbass. He didn’t care who saw. He couldn’t have been any more happy than he was right now. 

“Well, we’re free,” he said once you were both in the clear. Then, he frowned. “But we still have work.”

You winced. “And I wasn’t kidding about the place burning down. I really need to be there. I know how that sounds, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” Jaehyun said, grabbing your wrist and kissing the back of your hand. 

Your heart tugged at the gesture. Why’d he have to be so goddamn perfect? 

You got on your toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling butterflies swimming in your gut. It seemed they had come to visit again. “I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun told you goodbye and watched you leave. It hurt a little to see you go, but he knew you would come back to him. You always did, even if it took a year and unlikely circumstances. 

When you were gone, he turned around and grabbed his phone out of his pockets. He had to tell his mother that maybe she knew best after all. 

Night fell. Jaehyun still hadn’t heard from you although you should have been off from work hours ago. A part of him was worried, but he still trusted that you wouldn’t give in to your old habits. It was Friday night. Maybe you were resting and would see him tomorrow. 

Jaehyun went into his living room and played some music. The atmosphere reminded him of you. Holding you in his arms and spinning you around. Everywhere he went, he could still hear your voice and laugher ringing in his hair, like the ghost of you was haunting him. 

He shook his head. You drove him mad. He accepted that he would never forget you, much less the way it felt to love you. 

The doorbell ring and he could barely hear it over his music. Jaehyun didn’t pause it, but went to open his door and was pleasantly surprised to see you standing there. 

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked. 

“I told you I would make it up to you,” you said, breath condensing in the air. You gestured to the pair of grocery bags in your arms. 

It was Jaehyun’s natural instinct to take them out of your hands, and turning, he said, “Hurry up and come in. It’s cold outside.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and followed him immediately, shutting the door behind yourself. It was warm and cozy inside his apartment, as always. You hung your coat on the rack and glanced around, memories hitting you tenfold, square in the heart. Everywhere your eyes fell, you saw figures of you and Jaehyun. 

Dancing in the living room. Movie night marathons on the couch. And racing down the hallway with your lips on the other’s and your hands desperately trying to remove each other’s clothes as you messily stumbled into the bedroom for a long night of loving. 

“I see you’ve already set the mood,” you joked when you noticed the music playing, watching him set the groceries on the counter. 

Jaehyun beamed. “I wasn’t even expecting company.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced.” You smiled coyly, approaching the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. And no, you can’t help, Chef.” 

“Please?” 

You grabbed a gigantic wooden spoon and pointed at him. “Sit your ass down.”

“Jesus. Alright, then,” Jaehyun said, lifting his arms defensively. Ever stubborn were you. The reminder roused a chuckle from him. “Have it your way then, bossy.”

“I will.”

Jaehyun shook his head, still cheesing like an idiot. You were still iron-willed. That part of you would never change. 

You cooked dinner in Jaehyun’s apron and he laughed at how big it was on you. The memories were overwhelming now. It seemed that no matter where you were or what you were doing, his mind would always find a way to remind him of your presence. 

But the memories didn’t have to be bitter or painful anymore. He wanted to try again. He wanted a fresh start, a chance to repaint the canvas and a clean slate. As long as you were both determined to make things work, Jaehyun had faith in you and him. 

“Dinner was amazing,” Jaehyun complimented, throwing your dirty dishes in the sink to be remembered later. He stepped back over to the island and trapped you in his arms. 

You peered up at him, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Looking into your pretty eyes, Jaehyun couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss you anymore. You made a noise of surprise when he met his lips to yours, caught completely off-guard, but you kissed him back. It would be fighting your instincts not to. 

You closed your eyes and let Jaehyun guide you, trusting he would never lead you astray. When he kissed you, he melted away your icebound surface and got under your skin, peeling you back layer by layer. You liked kissing Jaehyun. Way too much. Even now, you could still recall the first time you made out, hiding behind the bleachers on campus yet gigging loud enough for all to hear. 

When it came to each other, you both were like moths to the dangerous flames of love. Love would always unite you again. You couldn’t resist those pretty, twinkling sparks of fire. And you couldn’t get enough of the burn. 

Jaehyun was confused when you pulled away, but looked into your eyes again and saw a kind of sadness twinkle in them. Your voice was weak, “Why don’t you hate me?” 

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby,” Jaehyun said, finding your hand and squeezing it firmly. “And believe me, I tried. Even if a part of me did hate you, an even bigger part of me will always love you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were sucking on his tongue again, wet kissing noises tangled in the sound of old school music. 

Then, Jaehyun pressed you into the counter, kissing you even rougher. You were riling him up, moaning into his mouth and that noise would never not do it for him. A different kind of fire came over you when you noticed him very impatiently unbuttoning your blouse. 

Same old Jaehyun. At heart, he was still the same as the cute boy you fell in love with. You were pleasantly impressed that kissing you alone still got him up. 

You broke the kiss again to ask through jagged breath, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Probably,” Jaehyun replied. Not that he gave a damn. Unless you did, of course. “Do you wanna stop?” 

“Jaehyun, I literally have not had sex in over a year. If you don’t fuck my brains out I think I’ll cry.”

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

You made a noise of surprise when Jaehyun cautiously scooped you into his sturdy arms and lowered you onto the counter. You made out hotly, his hands continuing to quickly unbutton your blouse and yours pulling his shirt above his head. 

The sight of his happy trail and toned abs made your core throb. And your mouth water. Your palms involuntarily slicked over them, feeling nothing but hard skin and muscle.

“See something you like?” Jaehyun asked, grinning in the most annoying way possible. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Still a gym rat, I see.” 

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. I still hit the gym with Johnny when we have spare time.”

That you knew. Despite the breakup, you and Jaehyun still had a ton of mutual friends, chiefly from high school. You recalled seeing Johnny post one of his gym visits with Jaehyun not too long ago. 

And you also vividly remembered the sight of Jaehyun, donning sweats and a blank tank-top. He drove you absolutely feral. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his biceps were flexed, showing off his muscle. You would always be a sucker for a burly man that could snap you in half if he so pleased. 

Jaehyun expertly removed your bra and tossed it somewhere to be forgotten. He wanted to see your breasts bounce while he pounded you into oblivion. Your skirt followed, but Jaehyun slid your panties to your ankles at a agonizingly slow pace, all the while smiling like an idiot as you gave a needy and impatient whimper. 

“You’re already so wet,” Jaehyun murmured, drawing an invisible pair of lines on your bare cunt with his fingers. “Did you miss me that much?”

You whimpered, “Please, Jay.”

Hearing you call out his name like that was all it took for Jaehyun to lose all sense of self-restraint and he spread your thighs apart with tenderness, burying himself between them. You let out a sharp cry, throwing your head back. Some of your best orgasms were the ones when Jaehyun ate you out until you physically could no longer take it and begged for him to stop. 

Jaehyun targeted your clit immediately, a testament to the fact that he knew your body intimately. Your thighs clamped around the sides of his head, unaccustomed to the pressure. 

He merely clasped your thighs in his palms and held them freestanding, undeterred as he continued to lap at you like with the hunger only a untamed beast could have. 

“Fuck,” was all you could say, curses dangling from your lips. You had been touch-starved for over a year and the familiarity of Jaehyun’s touch was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Despite the fact Jaehyun handled you gently, with love and tenderness and nothing but, he ate you out like an animal. 

Jaehyun longed for the taste of you, arousal gathering on his tongue. He loved unraveling you like this. You could never stay still, much less quiet when he was going down on you. The sight of you, head angled back and moaning his name nearly made him cum in his pants. 

Your fingers clamped locks of his hair and Jaehyun groaned, somehow spurred on by the gesture. You were making noises left to right, feeling yourself nearing your peak in record time. A year of no sex factoring in a skilled partner would absolutely do that to you.

Your lover learned to recognize you at the threshold of release a very long time ago and briefly parted from your pussy, substituting his mouth with his fingers as he sang, “Just let go for me, baby. It’s okay.”

It was clear that your body had every intention of obeying him. Naturally, it submitted to Jaehyun, with no fear and no reluctance. He knew it and it knew him. 

“Oh my God. Jaehyun,” you moaned, thighs twitching. Not wanting to hurt him, you clamped your nails into the counter, eyes closed as the pressure threatened to consume you from head to toe. 

Jaehyun talked you through it, whispering, “Do it for me, baby. Just let go.”

Not too much longer, orgasm seized you, rendering you weak and defenseless. You had no strength in your body to fight it even if you wanted to, weakened by his touch. Your toes clenched and you cried his name, fingernails scraping the island roughly enough to damage both your nails and the countertop.  

Jaehyun didn’t stop eating you out until you went rigid, chest undulating. You looked a hot mess, heaving for breath and your lips parted, easing the airflow. 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked when he moved from between your legs, fighting off a smirk at the sight of you completely disheveled. 

“Not until you fuck me,” you rasped, still needy in spite of still trying to catch your breath. 

Jaehyun snickered and tugged his pants down, underwear soon giving chase. You positively gawked when you saw his bare, thick dick. It never failed to make your mouth water. And your body tremble with release. 

You kept your nails at your sides as Jaehyun lined his cock up at your entrance, gently easing himself past your sheath-like walls. He still clasped his hands at your thighs, brows crumpling  with concentration. You were still so goddamn tight, clamping around him with a grip almost vice-like. 

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands clenching into fists. 

“Shh,” Jaehyun whispered, moving his mouth to the side of your face. There was a catch in your breath when you noticed his lips brushing against your ear, breath tickling your nape. “Open up for me, baby.”

The sensation of being filled completely made you feel nothing short of relief. There was a wet noise when Jaehyun’s hips smacked against your own, the last thrust followed by one even deeper. You tried your best to take all of him, wanting to please him even if it was the last thing you did. 

Jaehyun slipped out of his own trance briefly enough to mention, “I didn’t wear a condom.”

“Just pull out,” you said, in no state of mind to give a damn. You liked the feeling of him fucking you nice and raw. 

“We’re definitely a pair of idiots.”

You snickered and found his hand, slipping your fingers through his. “You’re my idiot and I’m your idiot. That’s all that matters.”

Jaehyun smiled into the crook of your neck, eventually clamping his teeth there to conceal a moan at your expense. 

He lifted his head and drew back to admire the entire view, watching his cock disappear between your legs over and over again borderline obsessively. There was something about you that he would never get tired of. He liked holding you close and loving you hard. 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jaehyun exhaled, voice full of sincerity. And raw pleasure. 

You were burning up, withering heat blindsiding you. Jaehyun was making short work of you. It felt like love-making rather than plain old fucking, all things considered. Jaehyun’s gentle, steady pace as he whispered sweet little nothings in your ear, old school romance songs faded out in the background all the while. 

All you could focus on was Jaehyun. He was all you could hear, all you could feel. You were driven by the feeling of your walls garroting his size, the sounds of the little groans he couldn’t smother into your skin and his affectionate words urging you closer to climax. 

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you sighed, tightening your hold around his hand. It was a tiny, sweet gesture. “Please? I wanna hear you.”

Jaehyun obeyed you because there wasn’t a damn thing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. You owned him and you knew it. 

Jaehyun swore when you clamped around his dick even harder. He watched your breasts bounce, your whole body unstill. Even your hands were scrambling, releasing him and now finding purchase in his back. “I love you,” he sighed, kneading your breasts. 

“I love you, too,” you moaned, feeling light as ever. He always took you to another dimension whenever you were together, but especially when he was fucking you within an inch of your life. 

I love you, too. Jaehyun was beaming. That was the first time he’d heard you say it in over a year and you had no idea how badly he needed to hear it again now. 

Jaehyun marked up your neck, leaving a trail of himself like souvenirs for you to remember in his absence. Your pulse thumped rapidly, your heart on the verge of tearing out of your chest, landing into his palms where it belonged. Now, your heartache was - at long last - soothed. 

There were no words to aptly describe your affection towards Jaehyun. Your love for him ran to an inexplicably deep extent with seemingly no end. It was all you could think about while he fucked you, how badly you needed him in your life. How the sensations he made you feel were irreplicable and you were content enough to simply be in his arms. 

Your lover never lasted very long when fucking you bare and raw and sensing himself approaching climax, Jaehyun brought his fingers to your clit, already swollen from release. A gasp tore from your throat when he fondled with the sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to facilitate an orgasm out of you. 

“Jaehyun,” you whined. You reached for his hand, sensitive. 

Jaehyun grabbed your hand with his spare one and slipped his fingers through again for you to squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. I want you to cum,” he said gently, biting your sweet spot. 

He was making short work of you. Your climax threatened to ensnare you with a force powerful enough to snap you in half. You needed it. More than anything, you needed it. 

You hauled your nails over his back, drawing long, red lines across the naked flesh. Jaehyun hissed darkly, pace quickening and coming even harder. You were driving him mad and vice versa. Your body had never been more confused than it was in that moment, barely willing itself to not writhe away but simultaneously matching his thrusts, wanting to build the pleasure yet somehow escape it all at once. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you warned in a impassioned chant, choking on your lack of breath. “I’m…” 

Your body quivered, release stealing the rest of your words before you could speak them. You found Jaehyun’s hand again, squeezing it for dear life. The orgasm was so heavy you almost collapsed in on yourself and Jaehyun. You were seeing white, burning red, emitting Jaehyun’s name in a sharp cry. 

Jaehyun felt you clenching around his cock with climax and immediately withdrew, knowing he would bust a nut inside you if he stayed a second longer. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun told you, voice husky, thick with lust.  

It was almost enough to break you all over again. 

You did as instructed, no hesitation required. Jaehyun fitted his cock inside your mouth, moaning at how warm it was. You took him in, wanting to get him off and taste him dripping down your throat. 

When he saw you, cheeks hollowed with his rigid cock in your mouth, Jaehyun nearly came then and there. He fucked your mouth, guttural little praises dangling from his lips. 

Your thighs clenched tightly, hot sparks still aflame between. He got you riled up effortlessly, hardly ever needing to try. There was something about him that you were naturally attracted to, an unshakable kind of attraction. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn’t escape him, why your body and heart was seized by your lover. 

“So good,” Jaehyun grunted, pace accelerating. 

Jaehyun fucked your throat until he came, emptying his balls into your mouth at long last. Eagerly, you swallowed as much as you could, an amalgamation of his release and your saliva dribbling down your chin and onto your naked, heaving breasts. 

And the sight positively wrecked him. 

“Fuck,” you rasped, still registering what the hell had happened. 

Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with alarm. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, it’s just that that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and quipped, “That’s the only sex you’ve had in a while.”

“Still the best.”

Jaehyun laughed, eyes crinkling. “Round two?” 

“God, yes,” you groaned, still feeling unalloyed pleasure burning between your thighs. 

Jaehyun scooped your bare body into his arms again and carried you into his room, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips and neck all the while. 

You smiled to yourself in the morning when you roused, feeling Jaehyun’s arms still wrapped loosely around your waist. 

Everything had shifted then. Though you initially had plans of spending the holidays buried in work, you came to find that Jaehyun’s warm embrace was the greatest gift you could have asked for on Christmas day. There was none of the loneliness and dwelling you dreaded, only making brand new memories with the man you loved with your entire heart, mind and soul.

On Christmas day, you visited his mother’s house where his family had gathered, recognized familiar faces that were surprisingly all too glad to see you again. 

When Jaehyun’s mother opened the front door, you greeted bashfully, “Hi, Mrs. Jung.” 

“I knew we would meet again,” Mrs. Jung said softly, simpering in a self-satisfied manner. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome in our home.”

You stepped inside the house, Jaehyun following suit once exchanging a silent, understanding glance with his mother. As always, she was right.

As you glanced around, nostalgia hit you tenfold. Everywhere you looked, there were memories of you and Jaehyun. You could see you both running up the stairs excitedly and Mrs. Jung scolding you about horse-playing indoors. When your eyes fell to the kitchen, you saw yourself joining the Jung’s for dinner, sitting directly beside your lover. 

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, given that seasonal music was blaring, and said, “I’m going to have a talk with my brother for a second. Be on your best behavior and don’t try to escape out a window. Old habits die hard.” 

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. “Go. I’ll be right here,” you said, heart wrenching softly. 

Jaehyun snickered and slithered away. 

In his place came someone you were very familiar with. 

“Nostalgia?”

You whirled around, instantly recognizing the voice as Taeyong’s, one of Jaehyun’s many, many cousins. 

“I made a lot of memories here. I’ll never forget any of it,” you replied honestly. “Long time, no see.” 

Taeyong bobbed his head in agreement. “Definitely. I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

“Why is that?” Your curiosity was piqued. You never imagined Jaehyun’s family would anticipate meeting you once more. It was the stark opposite of your expectations. 

Taeyong leaned closer like he was telling you someone’s deepest, darkest secret, and whispered, “Between you and I, Jaehyun hasn’t been the same since the breakup. Not a happy camper. You were a part of his life for so long that we were all convinced he would never adjust to living one without you again.”

Visioning a morose, heartbroken Jaehyun made you frown. “I did that.”

“You absolutely did. You broke the poor guy’s heart and made him unbearable. He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to have to put up with his insufferable ass,” Taeyong scoffed offhandedly, though you knew his words were lighthearted. “But you fixed it.”

“I guess I did that, too,” you exhaled contentedly, turning your head to spot Jaehyun chatting with his brother. That made you beam. Everything had fallen apart, shattered into pieces, but you were both willing to do the work and put them together. 

“He’s himself again,” Taeyong said, following your gaze. “Thank you for giving me my favorite cousin back.”

“I should have never taken him away in the first place.”

Taeyong gave you a playful, half-assed attempt at consoling, “Good people do bad things. We all fuck up. Just maybe not as badly as you.”

You nudged his side. 

He continued, turning somewhat sober, “He forgives you. But this won’t work out until you also forgive yourself.”

“You’re so young, but so wise,” you whispered, slightly touched. 

Taeyong snickered. “It runs in the family,” he said, patting your back before turning away. 

You merely stood there, rooted in place. Taeyong had given you something to muse on you. You realized a part of you was still clinging onto guilt, unable to rationalize your own decisions. You were so convinced that you were undeserving of Jaehyun’s love and courtesy that you had forgotten how to move on from your errors. 

It would be a process. But a step a day was better than none at all. 

You beamed when you noticed Jaehyun approaching you and he returned it, outstretching his hand and asking, “May I steal a dance?” 

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand in yours. 

Jaehyun brought you from the foyer to the living room where mainly everybody had gathered to dance, spinning you in his arms as holiday music filled the air. 

You swept some free strands of hair from his handsome face, admiring the view only a little higher up than you. Even in a room filled to the hilt with people, Jaehyun and Jaehyun alone was all you could see. Everyone else faded. It was only you and your lover, swaying to the rhythm of a seasonal song. 

“This feels like senior prom, but Christmas edition,” Jaehyun quipped.

You snickered delightfully. “I remember when we were announced prom king and queen. I like how nobody was surprised.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Jaehyun joined you for the first dance, gently whirling you around in front of several prying eyes, but you didn’t care. To you, the room was as good as empty. They were faceless, nameless people with no contribution or value, no relation to you and your blossoming romance with Jaehyun.

It was an experience you never knew you needed back then. Maybe in that moment, you knew it was fate. That one way or another, Jaehyun was inevitably the one you would grow old and gray-haired with. 

Even now, as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you knew that this was the man you wanted a future with. 

Jaehyun glanced up and said, “Look.”

You did as told, smiling fondly as you noticed the mistletoe hanging above your heads. A part of you wondered if it was a coincidence or if he chose this spot deliberately. “I remember kissing you in front of everyone,” Jaehyun added, full of mischief. 

You played along and hummed, “I’m not sure if I recall. Care to remind me?”

Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to lock lips with you, tasting hot cocoa on your tongue. You could taste gingerbread on his and the thought made you giggle into his mouth. There was something about it - something about Jaehyun - that made every tiny thing mean a billion times more. 

All of the whimsical little things made your heart swell with happiness. 

“Yo, chill, you horn dogs. There’s children,” scolded Jaehyun’s other cousin Mark, covering his little cousin’s eyes. His family gave you a headache. Every time you learned them all, it was as if another cousin popped out of thin air. 

You and Jaehyun pulled away, snickering. You leaned on your toes, giving his lips one final peck before deciding you’d had your fill. 

Days of being Jaehyun’s again turned into some of the happiest months of your life. You were letting go of some of your old habits and setting some past trauma free. There were a handful of grim times, but you both made the effort to repair things before they spiraled out of control. 

Excuses had run their course. Jaehyun would ask you on dates and you’d agree more, overworking yourself less. Until now, you never realized that putting some distance between yourself and the stresses of work was what it took to be happier. You had made the earth-shattering mistake of convincing yourself that hard work equated happiness. 

The two of you agreed to take things slow, afraid rushing would land you in an achingly familiar predicament, but you couldn’t deny that things had been speeding up. And Jaehyun already knew that it would forever be you. 

It was another long, brutal day of work and nothing was out of the ordinary. You were running across the office, balancing direct orders on top of your daily tasks. You needed six skins to have a job like this. Three to balance the roles of multiple people and another three to endure the wear and tear. 

Ten, your favorite co-worker, tracked you down and stopped you dead in your tracks to say, “Hey, slow down a second. Someone’s here to see you.”

You did the opposite of slowing down, still walking and as he followed you, said, “Tell them I’m taking a sick day, would you? Thanks, Tennie.” 

“I don’t think so,” Ten said, donning an amused look. Which successfully made you pause in confusion. Usually, Ten never hesitated to cover for you. “You’re going to want to hear what this guy has to say. I swear.” 

Very reluctantly, you agreed to follow Ten, curiosity piqued as you wondered who in the hell would dare interrupt you in the middle of a swift-paced work day. 

Jung Jaehyun. That was who. 

You made a face of confusion when you saw him there, smiling at you like an idiot. Confused, you asked, “Jay, you couldn’t text or call?” 

“What I’m about to do is a bit difficult to do over the phone,” Jaehyun retorted, admiring your state of obliviousness. 

You huffed, “What are you…” 

You cut yourself off when you noticed one of the staff hand Jaehyun a tiny box and he proceeded to crouch on one knee. The realization made your heart thud, pulse quickening. 

Jaehyun started, “Baby, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of how to say this. I had to have tried to practice this a million times before I decided to talk to you from my heart.”

Your co-workers all gathered around, and you noticed even your boss observing from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze was locked on Jaehyun and no one but. 

Your lover fought his nerves and added, “We met when we were in high school. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were so young, dumb, and drunk off learning what true love was for the first time. We couldn’t resist each other.” 

The memories made your heart melt, taut with ecstasy. 

“Then, we got older. And things got more complicated, but in spite of that, we never stopped loving each other. Not for a second,” Jaehyun declared, impassioned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way. No matter what has changed between us.”

Jaehyun was staring you dead in the eyes, watching your face melt with awe. It gave him all the courage he needed. 

“You made it so easy to fall in love with you but so hard to fall back out. And I don’t want to. I adore you, my love. Thoughts of you keep me up and night, restless. You make me crazy.”

Your eyes burned, fighting an oncoming threat of tears with every passing word. Jaehyun had swept you off your feet, making you feel emotions you never knew existed. 

“I know we’ve been through thick and thin, baby. But we were there for each other. And even when we separated, we found our way right back into each other’s arms,” your lover added. 

You wanted to pinch yourself, determine if you were dreaming. Even though Jaehyun had proposed once to you before, you would never get used to the wave of emotion that plagued you, rendering you soft and full of glee. 

“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you. You’re my first love and all these years by your side have only solidified my courage that I want you to be my last. You are the only woman on this earth I can imagine a future with and if it’s not you, then I know there’s nobody else out there for me.”

Ten was smartly grabbing a box of tissues for safe measure.

Jaehyun’s voice got softer, “Let’s try again, my love. Let’s do this one more time - one last time. Will you marry me?” 

Now, you had the spotlight. Ten was none too subtly mouthing, “Say ‘yes.’” Everybody was anticipating your reaction and you wondered exactly how long in advance everyone had been in on this little surprise except for you. 

There was no hesitation and you practically screamed as you chanted, “Yes!”

Jaehyun, much like the last time he proposed to you, swept you into his arms and kissed you to death, effectively silencing you. The room erupted in cheer. Everybody was glad to get a break from their tedious jobs and witness a moment as beautiful as this one. 

The champagne was already popping. Your fiancé whirled you in your arms and you told him affectionately, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Jaehyun said, incapable of getting enough. 

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Let me love you,” your fiancé said, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And you were. “That’s all you have to do.”

You smiled, pretending to mull it over. “I think I can let that happen.”

Jaehyun was over the moon. There were no words to describe how ecstatic he was. He missed this feeling and he was more than glad that it had returned. “Merry Christmas,” he said playfully. 

“Jaehyun, it is literally the end of February. You wished me Happy Valentines Day after fucking my brains out on your birthday,” you replied, rolling your eyes. 

“Still,” your fiancé said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and cheesing at the memory of fucking you raw again. “Marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

You smiled in agreement. And fought a smirk as you remembered you had your own little surprise for your betrothed, waiting for you at home on the bathroom counter. 

Jesus Christ, you were going to need a bigger place to stay.

#jaehyun smut #nct 127 smut #nct smut #jaehyun x reader #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jung jaehyun smut #nct x reader #nct #nct scenarios

[thatfandomslut]

Take Me, I'm Yours

Regina George x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Trigger Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, 18+. Fingering (Reader receiving), oral (Regina receiving), use of strap (Reader receiving), nipple play (Regina receiving) power bottom Regina George, passive top Reader, car sex, rough sex.

Request:

Pleasssseemore of Regina George/rene smut

Synopsis:

College!AU where the Reader is in Theatre and she plays Juliet in Romeo and Juliet. Also, Reader is an English major who very playfully and casually quotes dirty things in Shakespeare play and sonnets. Which Regina secretly loves.

Mean Girls requests are open.

Even though Regina was (Y/n)'s girlfriend, Cady and Janis found it surprising when she found herself a seat beside them to watch the school production of 'Romeo and Juliet.' (Y/n) was going to play the lead, Juliet, while her friend, Marco, was to be Romeo. If this was high school, Regina would have refused to show her face at a function such as this, but this was college. Plus, Regina was excited to see (Y/n) perform. She knew just how much (Y/n) loved the work of Shakespeare. She loved it to the point that she would bring it into any conversation they were having if possible.

As the theatre grew dark the curtains lifted revealing a narrator, speaking about fair Verona. Regina leaned close to Cady, who was sitting beside her. "When does Juliet come in?" She questioned softly, trying to keep her voice a whisper. She really wished she could fast-forward all of the parts that (Y/n) wasn't in. She began to wonder if that was rude of her, but she stayed in place, waiting for an answer. After all, she came for one reason, and one reason only, to see the star of this show: her girlfriend.

Cady glanced over at Janis before leaning towards Regina in order to respond. "She's going to enter with her nurse. It'll be a little while. Just sit back and enjoy." Cady told her, gaining a slight side-eye. Still, Regina listened, leaning back in her seat as she tried to understand what they were saying on stage. They were using the old English version. There were a few words and phrases she was catching onto due to (Y/n), and her infinity of saying little Shakespearean phrases whenever she was excited or whenever she wanted to have sex (which was a bit off-putting at first, but Regina found it cute).

"Nurse, where is my daughter? Call her forth to me." Regina sat up slightly, hoping that this would be the scene that was finally revealed (Y/n). She was able to identify the fact that the woman speaking was a Capulet due to her red dress. (Y/n) had explained one night that Capulets wore red while Montagues wore blue. This was so the audience could tell who was who on stage. Right now, Regina just felt incredibly intelligent for knowing this fact and it made her smirk to herself slightly as she awaited (Y/n) to eventually show up.

Just as Cady said, it was the nurse who appeared first, looking frantic. "Now, by my maidenhead at twelve year old, I bade her come.—What, lamb! What, ladybird! God forbid. Where’s this girl? What, Juliet!" She called out, and Regina felt herself grow in excitement. Anytime she attended any of (Y/n)'s performances, she felt like she could barely sit in her seat when she had the feeling (Y/n) was about to appear on stage. She just loved seeing (Y/n) shine, and it was clear that the stage was where (Y/n) belonged. Regina would move to New York so (Y/n) could star on Broadway if (Y/n) asked.

Regina burst into a proud grin as (Y/n) entered the stage, her hair curled as she looked at her nurse. "How now, who calls?" It was her opening line, and now that play that was boring Regina had her hooked. One could argue that it was because (Y/n) was Regina's girlfriend that Regina had a newfound interest in the play, and Regina could not argue against that. She wouldn't dare to. Not when (Y/n) looked so beautiful on the stage. Cady and Janis looked over at Regina, who was now leaning forward, clearly interested. The action made Janis shake her head with a grin as she found Cady's hand and took hold of it.

After the play, Regina left briefly to retrieve the bouquet of roses she had bought from her car. As (Y/n) departed from the back, now wearing leggings and a sweatshirt with their college's name embroidered on the front, she ran into Regina's arms. "Hey, baby," Regina greeted as her arms wrapped around (Y/n). She was careful to not crush the flowers as she pulled away to kiss (Y/n). This action was quickly reciprocated. "You did so good up there. I got these roses for you." Regina said, passing the bouquet over to (Y/n) who lit up over the fact Regina brought her flowers.

"I'm glad you thought so. I was so nervous you wouldn't enjoy the performance. Normally, the school does more of the modern plays, but I suggested a classic. I wanted Hamlet, but this one is just as exciting. And! Thank you for the flowers." (Y/n) felt her cheeks turn red as she rambled on, Regina leading her to the car to drive them back to their apartment. "I'm sorry for rambling, I'm just really excited you enjoyed it."

Regina opened the door for her, kissing her cheek softly. "Don't apologize for rambling, my love. It's cute. And, how could I not enjoy it when you did so fucking fantastic tonight. You're born for the stage." Regina complimented as (Y/n) settled in her seat. She closed the door before heading to the driver's seat. Despite being the obvious bottom, little spoon between the two, she is not the passenger princess. She just enjoyed driving and having a sense of control over what she was doing. Even as a bottom, she commanded (Y/n) what she wanted and how she wanted everything done.

"Can I share something about another Shakespeare play, or are you all Shakespeared out?" She questioned curiously, looking over at Regina, who shook her head in a way to allow (Y/n) to continue. In response, (Y/n) straightened herself up as she cleared her throat. The action caused Regina to eye her suspiciously knowing some kind of dirty quote might come out of her sweet and almost innocent (if it wasn't for the Shakespeare filth quotes) girlfriend. "In Hamlet, when Ophelia says to him, 'You are keen, my lord, you are keen.' She meant that he was, well, horny. In response, he says, 'It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.' Regina, I am keen."

A giant smirk twisted the edge of Regina's lips on her usual 'serious driving' face. Looking over for a brief moment, she had to bite down on the ever-growing upturning of her lips. "After seeing you on stage, I am 'keen,' too." She responded, causing (Y/n) to look over with a grin. "Isn't this the part where you say your Hamlet quote to me?" Regina teased as parked in her parking spot, her teeth still tugging at her bottom lip, wishing that it was (Y/n)'s bottom lip they were tugging on instead.

(Y/n) leaned back into her spot, unbuckling so she could turn to Regina more comfortably. "You're right, how rude of me not to respond properly. Regina, 'it would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.'" She said softly before moving the roses to the backseat carefully. Once she faced Regina, and the blonde had unbuckled, Regina's hands were slipped into (Y/n)'s leggings while (Y/n)'s hands were pushed up into Regina's shirt. They've both been here before, ravaging each other in their car as if they couldn't get caught.

Regina was quick in her actions to rub (Y/n)'s clit, wishing the girl was riding her face so she couldn't only feel how wet she was for her, but there was a chance she could taste it, too. However, the moan that had escaped (Y/n)'s lips made her forget her wish as she began to allow two fingers to slip in between the lips of (Y/n)'s pussy, teasing her momentarily. "Please, princess," (Y/n) whined pitifully, and Regina slipped her fingers in at the request. Anything for her future favorite Broadway star, right? The glass slowly began to fog as (Y/n) moaned in pleasure as she successfully unclasped Regina's bra from under her shirt, making Regina's nipples more accessible to her fingers. As (Y/n) cried out in pleasure because of Regina's fingers, Regina herself began to moan as (Y/n)'s fingers pinched and played with her hardened nipples.

It wasn't long before (Y/n) felt herself grow closer to her orgasm. "Regina, please, I'm so close." (Y/n) whimpered as her lips found Regina's the car windows around them were officially fogged. Normally, Regina would make her beg for her orgasm. But tonight was (Y/n)'s night, so anything she wanted, she was going to get. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina allowed her to cum on her fingers, the girl arching her back, her legs shaking slightly. A string of curses fell from her lips, but Regina could only focus on how pretty the girl's lips were.

Regina helped (Y/n) ride out her high before removing her fingers and sucking them clean. "Let's go inside, baby. I'll get you all cleaned up and we can watch a movie." Regina said softly as (Y/n)'s breathing became more leveled. She fixed her bra by just removing it from under her shirt, not caring if anyone saw her carry it into her house. Leaning over, she pressed a soft kiss to (Y/n)'s forehead, grabbing the roses from the backseat.

"Or, when we get inside, I can undress you, and eat you out." (Y/n) said, her words unusually bold, her voice still scratchy from her moans. Her chest was still heaving despite her catching her breath, but presumably because she was nervous and starting to breathe quicker once more. She expected Regina to say no because they typically did it in Regina's way. Which (Y/n) usually loved. She still wanted Regina to have control, but for a moment, she wanted to be the bold one. "I need to taste you, princess."

Her words caused a shiver to spread down Regina's spine as she glanced back with a smirk. "Okay, baby, let's do it then. Take me to the bedroom, and eat me out until I can't take it anymore." Regina leaned in, pressing a hungry kiss to (Y/n)'s lips before they pulled away, practically rising to their apartment. Their clothes were scattered on the apartment floor, but the roses were put neatly on the counter. As Regina fell backward onto the bed, she looked up with a smirk. "Take me, I'm yours." She whispered as (Y/n) kissed her deeply. The kiss was messy and their teeth clashed together as their tongues fought for dominance before (Y/n) pulled away.

(Y/n) left wet, bruising kisses down Regina's body, just the way the blonde liked it as she reached Regina's pussy. It wasn't long before (Y/n)'s tongue swirled along Regina's clit as she began to suck. Regina's back arched instinctively as she moaned loudly. When (Y/n) moved to begin eating Regina out as if she was her last meal, her finger took her tongue's place on her clit. "Fuck, baby, just like that." Regina's hands cupped her breasts, needing to do something with her hands as (Y/n)'s tongue swirled in her. Regina felt her heartbeat thrumming in her chest as (Y/n) made her forget her own name for a moment.

As Regina found herself growing closer, her legs began to shake as her moans came out more frequently. Her back arched more as she subconsciously began to grind on (Y/n)'s tongue. She loved the feeling of (Y/n)'s tongue and she knew soon their tastes would mingle when they kissed. "I'm so close, baby," she cried out to (Y/n), her hips stuttering, as she tried to hold herself back, wanting (Y/n) to tell her when to cum. It was the only time Regina relented control. It was something they both liked, holding each other's orgasms captive as they completely took away their ability to think straight.

"Cum for me, princess," (Y/n) instructed. Regina did so, crying out (Y/n)'s name. They forget if they have neighbors or not, but they don't care either. Regina's hips bucked as (Y/n)'s nose briefly hit her sensitive clit as she cleaned up all of Regina. Regina rode out her high on (Y/n)'s tongue, her eyes rolling back as she swore she could see stars. As (Y/n) finished, she kissed Regina deeply. Quickly, Regina reciprocated, mingling the taste of each other and moaning at their perfect concoction.

(Y/n) went to pull away in order to run their usual aftercare bath and to get Regina water, but the blonde stopped her. "No, I'm not done with you. If it's okay with you, I bought something you've been wanting to try." Regina was still shaky but stable enough to retrieve the strap from her nightstand. (Y/n) looked at Regina in shock as she grinned slowly. "I want you to ride me," Regina said, her voice echoing in (Y/n)'s mind.

(Y/n) swallowed thickly before she licked her drying lips. "I want to ride you, too." With the consent given, Regina began putting the harness on before inviting (Y/n) to climb on. (Y/n) grew even more wet as she did so before sliding on. The contact made pushed the harness down into Regina's sensitive clit, causing her to force herself not to buck her hips. (Y/n) moaned loudly as Regina's strap filled her up. "Oh, fuck," she cursed loudly, biting her lip. "Tell me when I can start." Her voice was shaky as she tried to wait, finding it hard as pleasure filled her up.

"You can start, baby," Regina told her before watching in amazement as her girlfriend bounced on the strap, her boobs bouncing with her. She couldn't help but moan, too at the perfect contact it made with her. (Y/n) cried for Regina, feeling like she was on Cloud 9. She was almost ashamed to say that her orgasm was coming much too quickly for her liking. But she continued to ride.

"I'm close, Regina. I'm already so fucking close." (Y/n) felt her body shake and her back arch as she grew closer to the orgasm she desperately tried to hold back. Regina moaned at her words, trying to think straight for a response. Instead, she mustered up a 'not yet' causing (Y/n) to cry out. Regina was desperate to cum with her as the two grew close. Their moans mingled in the air as (Y/n) took all of the length in proudly. She was beginning to wonder if she could resist this orgasm as her eyes screwed closed and her head fell back. Sweat beaded on her forehead before she finally heard Regina say it.

"Cum, baby. I'm cumming with you," Regina told her as she released with (Y/n). Their lips fell together, causing them to swell. (Y/n) stayed for a long moment on the strap as she shook in pleasure, bouncing every now and again to ride out her high. The action caused them both to moan every time. As (Y/n) removed herself, her chest still heaved. Regina kissed her softly before cleaning the strap and putting it away. "You wait here, baby. I'm going to get our bath ready and get us water."

(Y/n) couldn't refuse, her legs wouldn't allow her to walk anyways. Instead, she lay there, attempting to catch her breath as the sound of running water hit her ears and Regina grabbed her a water bottle. "You were amazing," (Y/n) complimented softly, her words barely coming out, her thoughts still trying to become coherent. Regina smiled over at her as they began to drink their water. "I wasn't expecting the strap, but I will say I am very grateful for it. I also liked that it was the one we picked out together." She said, activating one of their aftercare routines: talking about their time. It was important to communicate their feelings about sex.

Regina smiled over at her with a twinkle in her eyes. "I wanted to get it for you since it was opening night and you had been working so hard. I'm so proud of you, my star. And, I liked it, too." Regina pressed a kiss to (Y/n)'s cheek. "Now, let's go get in that bath before it overflows," Regina said with a teasing smile. She helped (Y/n) to the bath where they soaked their bathtub wine in a bath full of bubbles. It was the perfect end to a perfect day for the both of them.

#regina george x reader #regina george #regina george smut #mean girls x reader #mean girls

[bababaka]

How do people write fanfiction???? How do they manage to finish chapters? A whole fic???? Teach me your ways!

Im suffering T-T

#fanfiction writer #send help #i want to write a bade x reader fic so baaaad #i already finished chap 1 #the rest though? pain #i know what i want to do for the fic but i cant put it into wordsssss #pain

[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson x AFAB reader, established relationship, mentions of bodily injury and blood(not reader's), allusions to oral sex (f)

Let's just say that Eddie eats you out a little too well and suffers the consequences.

The bleeding's finally starting to stem you're relieved to notice, pulling back his bloodied bandana to peek at his swollen nose, all flushed red like crushed berries. Streaks of dry blood trail down to his chin in thin ribbons and you look at him sympathetically.

"I'm dellin' you bade, id loobs worse than id is", Eddie tries to assure you once more though you're not convinced because you can make out the beginnings of a black eye on his face too, a purple half moon starting to take shape below his left eye.

You'd apologized profusely when it happened, nearly brought to tears over how guilty you felt about the whole thing but all he did was grin proudly like he couldn't be happier about it, teeth stained pink with fresh blood.

"Bade"

"Yeah?"

"You're nod wearin' a bra"

You look down and realize he's right, your nipples hard and showing through your shirt because hospitals are such cold, sterile places. Now that you're looking at yourself you notice that your shirt's inside out too but of course he doesn't notice that detail because he's too busy staring at your tits.

"Oh. Yeah well, I kinda forgot in the rush to get here", you tell him, uncaring if anyone else notices because your priority right now is your boyfriend's wellbeing.

"No id's good. Helbs take my mind off the paib", he grinned again, raising his eyebrows at you suggestively.

Even with a broken nose and all that blood on his face and clothes he still manages to look handsome, still charming in that loveable dork kind of way that made you fall for him all those years ago, stirring something warm in your belly.

"Just let me do the talking, okay?", you stroke his cheek gently, placing a quick kiss there which makes his face turn pink in a way that's unrelated to his injury. You looked over the forms one of the nurses had handed you when you first came in, filling the blank spaces with Eddie's personal information.

Fell down the stairs. That's pretty believable, right? You continued to jot his details down, hoping the doctors and nurses will buy what you're selling because the last thing you wanted to divulge was that your boyfriend made you cum so hard while going down on you that you kicked him in the face on accident.

"Baaade"

"Eddie, don't talk you might start bleeding again"

"Jud one more ding", he nudges his shoulder against yours.

You look away from the paperwork then, catching a lilt to his tone that sounded serious. "What is it?", a tendril of worry winds up your spine. Had you concussed him? Oh shit, if he's got a concussion too then-

"Did you forbet your panties too?"

The tendril withers away unceremoniously.

"Eddie", you deadpanned. "This is not the damn time."

"Pleab jud answer the quedtion", he gives you the eyes, those wide, bottomless whiskey brown eyes and you crumble.

"Fine. I forgot, okay?", you duck your head and whisper in his ear. "You were bleeding so much- I just threw on whatever was closest."

He then eyes your skirt in that same way that got him in this situation in the first place, tongue swiping over his blood tinged bottom lip.

"Great becob I wad thinkin'. Round two in the van afder they patch me up?"

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #eddie munson x reader

[writeyouin]

Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Fem-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - I Don't Need You

A/N – Since the first chapter got comments and actual reblogs, surprise, surprise, I was motivated to continue. See, Tumblr? This is how it works. I respond to instant validation.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

MALE VERSION HERE

NON-BINARY / GN VERSION HERE

You looked around the dusty hallway that comprised the main entrance to Lucifer’s manor. Yikes, Charlie was right; he really did need a cleaner. You doubted that was her main motivation for placing you in her father’s care but looking at the layers of thick dust and brimstone coating downstairs, you could see it hadn’t been used in a long time.

Lucifer watched you sceptically. Ideally, he would have liked to leave you to find your own way around, but he didn’t want to be accused of not trying by Charlie, should you call her and state that Lucifer was straight up ignoring you.

With that in mind, he bade you to follow him with a wave of his arm and gave you a half-arsed tour of each room, during which he would energetically state its name, and occasionally pepper in a fact if he felt like it and then hurry along.

“Parlor one, dining room, parlour two, library, parlour the… you know what, we have a lot of those, if you see a room with chairs and a fireplace, assume it’s a parlour. Moving on, bathroom, closet, like the parlour situation, there are lots of bathrooms and closets. Kitchen, which is always stocked by the way, so I don’t have to shop,” He muttered a sentence about the Hell of going out there, and then he was back to his bubbly self, rushing you through the rest of the tour, “Games room, spa, my room – don’t go in there – and here, among the unnecessary number of bedrooms, is your room.”

Although every room in the manor was lavish by Hell’s standards, Lucifer had sneakily pre-worked a bit of his magic to make yours somewhat undesirable. It was still large and had all the fixings, but now, it was dirty, damp, and there would always be an underlying scent of slightly rotten milk, that was just noticeable to annoy anyone, yet not something so offensive that he could be blamed for causing it.

The now slightly squalid room wasn’t Lucifer’s way of being petty and cruel; it was just that he wanted you to leave, and that would only happen if you had a reason to. You should go back to the Hotel where you belonged; better yet, you should just head to a different part of Hell where neither he nor his daughter would have to look at your disgustingly human face… A face that, though nothing like Lilith’s, reminded Lucifer of his wife since there was nobody else even remotely like her except for their daughter and now, unfortunately, you.

The simple fact of the matter was that Lucifer was just waiting for you to start demanding things of him, or Charlie. It would likely start with something small, like changing rooms, then if he gave you an inch, you would take a mile, and soon you would demand he use his Angelic Powers to serve you in seemingly impossible ways.

One way or another, the room was a test. You would either see it and leave in search of greener pastures or a better deal elsewhere, leeching off whoever would give you the time of day, or you would stay and start giving orders; either way, Lucifer would be able to return to his daughter with proof that sinners were the problem, not him.

You stepped into the room, accidentally kicking up a cloud of dust that made you sneeze.

After a minute, you turned to Lucifer, “Thank you for the room. It’s lovely.”

Lucifer held back a grimace as you had the audacity to smile at him.

“Great,” He replied in a strained tone, “Just perfect. So, I’ll uh, leave you to get settled in and-”

Just then a portal opened over the canopy bed and two packed suitcases landed there, courtesy of Charlie. Lucifer tasted his daughter’s magic in the air and sighed resignedly; whatever Charlie had planned she wasn’t backing down from what she likely thought was a good idea.

“Right on time,” Lucifer commended the fine timing of his daughter, and even though he was clearly uncomfortable with her plan to give him company, he did seem genuinely proud of her expert timing; then again, he was proud of anything she chose to do even if he didn’t always understand what it was she was doing.

“Great,” He repeated somewhat tiredly. Then he forced himself to smile. It was important that you would see him happy so that Charlie would hear about it later. “You go ahead and unpack. I’m going to do some very important work.”

The sentiment of ‘Don’t disturb me!’ hung in the air, unspoken, but obviously there.

Once Lucifer left, you flopped down on your bed, thinking about all you had seen. You checked your phone, finding several texts from Charlie, progressively getting more impatient as she awaited your reply with a somewhat hyper-anxious anticipation; it seemed the apple truly didn’t fall far from the tree.

‘How was your arrival?’

‘Did you get the grand tour?’

‘Which room did he put you in?’

‘I bet it was the Rococo room.’

‘Oh no, he didn’t put you up in my old room, did he? That would be so EMBARRASSING!!!’

‘Wait, why aren’t you replying?! PLEASE TELL ME HE’S BEING NICE TO YOU!’

‘I can come over if you need me to.’

‘Did your bags get there okay?’

You smiled and decided to put Charlie out of her misery. Your phone alerted you that she was already writing another message, but as soon as you started to compose one of your own, the notification that she was typing disappeared.

‘The tour was fine. Lucifer has been nothing but polite,’ and frazzled, you thought, though you omitted that part from the text; it was best that Charlie didn’t have anything extra to worry about while preparing for her meeting with Heaven.

‘My room is also amazing btw. I don’t know about Rococo or whatever, but it’s certainly stunning, and judging by the lack of stuffed animals and probably cheesy posters, I’m guessing it isn’t your old room.’

You really meant that. While your room was in need of a good cleaning, and there was a slightly off odour, it was indeed beautiful with its lacquered wooden floors, rich velvet drapes (Hell-Red of course) and lustrous emerald wallpaper. It was one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen, especially since arriving in Hell, not long dead after… the incident.

You removed your thoughts far from the grim memory of your death, not wanting to relive your demise. It never did any good to think of such things, and you had to wonder whether all Demons fixated on the manner in which they perished. Perhaps some were lucky enough to die in their sleep or get hit by a bus; at least the latter would be quick, and the former peaceful.

Moreover, you also believed the other part of your text; Lucifer probably kept Charlie’s room as a shrine to her youth. He seemed like the sort of person who was stuck in the past.

Your phone buzzed again, and you expected another message from Charlie, but it was from Angel Dust.

‘When you get the chance, snoop in the Short King’s bedroom and find out what kinky shit he’s into. I’m betting food play. He seems like a whipped cream and apples kind of guy if you catch my drift.’

Betting? He had undoubtedly roped Husk and Nifty into said bet. Husk had likely opted for a safe option like bondage… You didn’t want to know what kind of kinky shit Nifty thought Lucifer was into; that girl was a dark horse.

“Never going to happen,” You murmured to yourself with a chuckle; you would never invade Lucifer’s privacy like that, but Angel’s text had made you laugh and distracted you from your earlier thoughts.

Getting up, you pushed yourself into action and began unpacking both your thoughts and your few clothes and possessions. You lit a scented candle that Angel had gifted you. It was one of his unwanted gifts from Valentino, Blueberry Blowjob. You were glad when the scent filled the air, taking away from what you incorrectly assumed was the faint smell of mildew. The smell didn’t concern you, you had plenty more candles and tea lights with such names as Orange Orgasm, Popcorn Pussy, and Cherry Cum-Shot.

The manner was well furnished, but all of the rooms were neglected. There were seven parlours in total, each matching the theme of one Sin, probably because it would be polite should they ever need to meet with the Royal Family one-on-one. Despite that, they seemingly hadn’t been used in some time, nor had the library or any of the living rooms. You hadn’t seen much of Lucifer’s room as he rushed you past the door, which had only been slightly ajar, but what little you had caught a glimpse of seemed cleaner than the rest of the manor. Did he spend all of his time in there? Alone? That was… It was sad. Lucifer could live well among anyone in Hell, except maybe Alastor, yet he couldn’t see the good in anyone.

Without Charlie and Lilith that must be lonely. How depressing that he had created a kind of personal Hell inside of Hell. You were starting to think that Charlie was right to send you home with him.

Still, it seemed like he needed some time to get used to the idea of company and you had a job to work as his maid. Once you were unpacked, you would seek out the cleaning supplies and get started.

Lucifer draped himself over his workbench, listlessly toying with a rubber duck. It was one of his worst creations… Couldn’t even breathe fire.

He didn’t even know why he continued to make them. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything else to make, and it was better to make something than nothing, even if he ended up creating the same thing over and over again, clinging to the memory of how one celestial duck had made Charlie smile.

Her smile was everything. Even Heaven couldn’t take that away, or… Maybe they could, if this meeting went awry. No. Please God, No. Not that. Anything but that. Kill the sinners. Show him the agonising mistake of Free Will for eternity, but he hoped to never see the day that Heaven treated his daughter with the same derision they typically reserved for him.

Lucifer froze, a glower darkening his expression as you knocked on the door.

He had clearly implied that he didn’t want to be bothered. IMPLIED IT! It hadn’t even been one day and you were bothering him.

Lucifer didn’t open the door. He didn’t want you to see inside his room. That was his space and his alone. Yet, he didn’t want any risk of you barging in, so he poofed himself to where you stood outside, using a glamorous entrance to grab your attention.

“Yes?” He said expectantly, leaning forward on his cane, as if leaning closer to you didn’t disturb him half as much as it did.

“Oh,” You blinked back surprise, though you weren’t too shocked seeing how Alastar always snuck up on you at the Hotel in a similarly flamboyant manor. “Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I just wondered if you could tell me where the cleaning products are kept? I would like to get started as soon as I can.”

Cleaning products? Lucifer was stuck on the sentiment as if he’d never heard of such foreign words. Then he seemed to remember, you had been volunteered as his maid. Right… That was Charlie’s way of making him take you.

You waited patiently for a response, having quickly learned that your host tended to drift between a fast-talking façade or thoughtful distractedness. You wished you didn’t have to ask him for help, but after searching three floors and the attic, you had gotten somewhat turned around, and you had no idea where you had already looked; the manor was massive.

Finally, Lucifer seemed to come to and he began boredly examining his hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” He stated demurely.

“It won’t?”

“No. It won’t.”

Behind you, Lucifer caught sight of a portrait of his family. The frame was carved blood-wood harvested from a Tree-Demon who once dared to insult Lilith in Lucifer’s presence. Two winged snakes adorned opposing corners of the portrait. With a lazy wave of his hand, they creaked and snapped, coming to life, and escaping their previous wooden home, leaving only indentations where they used to be. With another magical flourish, they grew slightly and became more life-like, shedding splinters as their new uniforms appeared.

“There, see, two half-sized cleaners. They’ll take care of everything.”

You stared hard at the new servants of the house, somewhat amazed by the show of power; nobody else in Hell could do anything close to creating life, and it seemed that Lucifer didn’t even care that he had such power.

Frankly, Lucifer was upset with his new creations. He had finally strayed from ducks, creating something new for the first time in over a century, and they were still bland. When he had created Razzle and Dazzle for Charlie, he had done everything he could to make them beautiful and unique. These abominations in front of him were cheap copies of that Sir Pentious fellow he had seen at the hotel. He just didn’t have anything left worth creating. There was no point.

Whatever. The snake servants would do their job quietly and obediently. And they’d be more useful and less annoying than Charlie’s reptilian friend.

“Oh, okay. Well, is there anything else you’d like me to do?” You asked, wishing to be useful. “I can cook pretty well, or I could run errands, or-”

“NO!” Lucifer snapped.

“But-”

“Don’t you get it?! I DON’T NEED YOU.”

Lucifer forced himself to take a calming breath, his gaze downcast so he didn’t have to look at you.

“This is all my daughter’s plan. All you have to do is stay out of my way here and Charlie will be happy. Do you think you can manage that?”

#fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #fem reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel x reader #charlie morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x reader #razzle #dazzle #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #sinless sinners #chapter 2 #part 2 #i don't need you

[xxshujiswhorexx]

Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 2)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

Vox was an angry man. At least, right now he was.

“What the FUCK does that ancient prick think he’s doing, putting his hands on my little assistant?” Yes, Vox was in quite the mood, watching your every step and action through his monitor. Watching Alastor drag you along through public, knowing he could see you both, was simply the most fucking audacious move he has ever made.

“God fucking dammit, I told her not to speak to that old-timey asshole.” Staring at his monitors and muttering profanities, he felt his screen begin glitching and buffering out of severe irritation.

“My, my, Voxxy, I wonder what’s got you so out of sorts, hmm?”

“Shut the fuck up, Val, you fuckin know why I’m pissed.”

“What? You miss the little conejita, hm?”

“Get out of my room, Val. I got work to do.” Through gritted teeth he managed to compose himself, returning his gaze to his monitors, focusing in entirely on you, and your fearful eyes.

The way your bunny ears fluttered when you were thinking. The way you batted your eyelashes in surprise. The way your little button nose twitched when you were upset.

God, it was hard to stay mad at you.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sharp buzzing of his doorbell, likely signally your arrival. He watched on his screen as Alastor bade you goodbye, planting a soft kiss on your hand, and watched your face darken with a blush at the action.

If he was angry before, now he was fucking seething.

No sooner had you entered the building and greeted the secretary, then Vox harshly grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you up to his office, ignoring your pretty little whimpers and pleas on the way up.

Finally in his office, he slammed the door and locked it before speaking.

“Y’know, dollface, I only had one rule for you here. Don’t fucking speak to Alastor. And y’know what, pretty girl? You just fucking broke it.” The lights in the room start to flicker and glitch as his irritation grows.

“‘M sorry, Mr Vox, b-but he wouldn’t l-leave me alone..” you cower away from his as he approaches you, eyes welling up with tears as your nose begins to run.

His anger stalls as he sees your teary eyes, letting out a sigh and releasing his power.

“C’mere, dollface.” He beckons you over, taking a seat behind his desk. As you approach he grabs you by the hips to sit you snugly on his lap, straddling him, as your face grew brighter.

“Y’know I can’t stay mad at you, babydoll. Just promise me you’ll try to avoid that asshole?”

You whimper affirmatively nuzzling into his chest as he pulled you in for a firm hug, reluctant to let you go.

“Okay, dollface. Run along now, Val wants to see you.”

Satan, was he such a sap for you.

Climbing off his lap you walk towards the door on shaky legs, gently waving him goodbye before closing it behind you.

Adjusting your skirt, you decided to go find Mr Val, to give him your report.

Wandering through the building, you finally found a staircase, and climbed up a few flights to reach the porn studios, where Valentino could usually be found. Growing increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of naked people and lube in the environment, you began to get rather desperate.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Mr Val?” You timidly asked the nearest actor.

“Uh, yeah, he’s in studio 6 right now, but be careful pretty girl. He’s in a mood right now.”

Hurriedly thanking the actor, you rushed off to studio 6 eager to speak to Val and leave the porn studios as quickly as possible.

“Goddammit, kitty! Why are these putas so fucking incompetent!” The sound of glass breaking indicated Mr Val’s presence, the actor’s observation of his poor mood being dead on.

“Well, if it isn’t the little asistente~ Any news for me, bonita conejita?”

And as always, his piss poor mood could be fixed in an instant by the presence of a pretty little thing. Feeling better already, he pulled you into his lap on his couch, your back against his much larger torso, as he began picking through strands of your hair, humming softly to himself.

“I-i found Angie, Mr Val. H-he’s stayin at the princess’s hotel in the center of town. I-I know you’re sad he’s not stayin with us anymore, b-but I think this could mean his work will improve, s-since he has more space ‘n all..” you trail off, embarrassed at your rambling, while Valentino simply chuckles at your naïve attempt to protect Angel from him.

He turns you around on his lap, blowing pink smoke into your face, making you cough gently.

“Such a kind little bunny, hmm? Trying to protect Angel Dust from the big bad moth man, yes? You really are una conejito estúpida, but such a cute one~”

He grabs your jaw forcing you to look him in the eyes, your skirt riding up as he forces you to lean forward, hands on his chest to brace yourself.

“I could make you a star, bebé bonita~ how’d you like that, everyone would know your face. And pussy I suppose.. no, I think I’d rather keep you all to myself, conejita.~”

He pulls you ever closer to pat your head and rub your ears, knowing just how much you love the attention.

“Hmm, you better go now, bebé. I got films to direct.” With a grin, he’s shoved you off his lap leaving you in a shaky heap on the floor. You carefully hoist yourself off the floor, deciding to head home for the day, all whiny and teary from how worked up everyone’s got you today. Oh well, hopefully Vox will take care of you later.

A/N: I love writing Val so much omg it’s so fun he’s such an ass

Tags: @whocaresimnothere

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #valentino x reader #valentino hazbin hotel #valentino #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #I’m in love with Christian borle

[distantdarlings]

BIRTHDAY ANXIETY // m. riddle

RATING: R / 3.3K WORDS

Mattheo Riddle x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* After a particularly difficult day dealing with the constant attention that comes with your birthday, Mattheo helps you to slow down a bit. (Smut, Fluff)

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Oral - f!receiving, praise, Dom!Mattheo, mentions of anxiety, language, fem reader, not proofread (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

HER - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Yes, thank you again—you really are too sweet,” you laughed, your throat starting to burn beneath the constant thanking. Your fingers nervously tightened around the small bag in your hands. You wished they would just let you disappear into the common room.

“Have a good rest of your birthday, friend!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m going to head back to my dorms, okay?” And with a few more waves and some nervous smiles, you found yourself through the common room door. You took a deep inhale, letting it fill every corner of your lungs before letting it out slowly. The intent of it was to calm you, but you reckoned it just made you more nervous.

You felt guilty for thinking it, but sometimes you just wished you didn’t have a birthday. The constant bombardment of attention you hadn’t even asked for in the first place, coupled with the existential panic, knowing that you only got one shot at life and your time was dwindling, made you really upset. Birthdays freaked you out—you couldn’t lie.

You were grateful for the people in your life who cared enough to take a bit of time out of their day to wish you a happy birthday or to grab you a small gift, but you often wished they wouldn’t. That sounded shitty, but you couldn’t help it. If you truly wanted anything on your birthday, it was to be left completely and utterly alone with your spooky, aging thoughts.

The present in your hands had been given to you by Pansy during second period. As soon as she had given it to you, everyone else had to wish you a happy birthday, and thus, all of the attention was brought on to you. It was miserable—like you were suffocating. Consistent self-imposed guilt trips led you to believe you were a terrible person for thinking these things, but you always came back to one thought. That you couldn’t help the way your brain was, the way it functioned. Sometimes, it felt as though your brain was powered by anxiety. It was exhausting.

You power-walked back to the girls’ dormitories and nearly escaped into your room with no more wishes of happy birthday. Thankfully, there was no one else in the dorm room. The peace and quiet bade you welcome to collapse onto your bed, thankful that the day was over. Curiosity led you to finally open the gift from Pansy. It was concealed in a shiny green gift bag with a sparkly, translucent ribbon tied over the handles. It was quite…Pansy, if you’d ever seen something so like her. You smiled a bit at the sweet girl who—despite your constant hopes that she would—never forgot any kind of gift.

You set it between your outstretched legs and pulled the ribbon loose, letting the handles fall open. Inside was a neatly folded knit sweater with a lovely design over the sleeves. Upon further inspection, you noticed that a winding silver snake was added to the sleeves. You supposed it was meant to represent your house. Your stomach flipped in elation. Oh, it was just perfect. What a beautiful, thoughtful gift. You instantly felt ashamed of being so dismissive earlier when she had given you the bag. Hopefully, she knew that you weren’t being rude on purpose; you just hated the attention. Ugh. You felt awful.

You set the sweater at the edge of the bed with the intention of washing it and wearing it the next day. For now, though, you just wanted to rest and maybe pity yourself a bit. Fuck, you were pathetic. You groaned and tossed yourself back against your bed, hoping to fall asleep and just forget all of the events of the day.

A rhythmic knock came upon the door suddenly. Your eyes popped back open. Suppressing a groan, you invited the person in. You hoped it was just a roommate wanting to pass through, but your luck suggested it was another birthday wisher. Be grateful, be grateful, be grateful.

The door pushed open and in walked your boyfriend. A wave of relief washed over you at the sight. His dark curls fell over his eyes as he quirked his eyebrows, a slight smirk popping over his lips. You swore you’d never tire of his smiles.

“Hey, birthday girl,” he said. You groaned and rolled your eyes, your head falling back in disappointment.

“Well, that didn’t seem very exciting,” he chuckled, crossing the floor.

“I swear that’s all I’ve heard today,” you sighed, scootching over so he could take the space next to you. He slid in beside you, one leg crossing over the other. “I just wish I could skip my birthday.”

“I know, darling,” he smiled. “They mean well, though. Don’t you wish people a happy birthday when it’s theirs?”

“That’s a good point,” you shrug, eyes fixated on your hands. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful, it just seemed hard to be totally comfortable with the spotlight on you all day long. Mattheo understood that aspect of you; he always had. That was one of the many reasons you adored him.

“I’m sorry you’ve had a rough day,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Can I help you relax?”

You give a small nod and allow him to gently roll you over onto your stomach. With steady breaths and slow movements, Mattheo slips his uniform jacket off, loosens his tie, and removes his shoes. He settled himself over top of the backs of your thighs, applying a small amount of pressure but never bearing his full weight. Ever the gentleman. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted him rolling the sleeves of his uniform shirt up to his elbows. Merlin, you always loved it when he did that. It always showed off his muscular, darkened forearms so perfectly. It just made him look so authoritative and perfect. It placed a small blush in your stomach.

“Let me take your shirt off, darling,” he whispered, his mouth suddenly against your ear. You jumped slightly at the sudden close proximity before nodding at his request. He backed up for a moment to allow you to lean up onto your knees. You begin to pull each button out of its sleeve before his arms wrap around your body. His fingers replace yours in separating the halves of your shirt. His breath is warm and heavy against your bare skin. It elicits shocking chills down the lengths of your arms.

At the sight of the chills lacing your arms, he presses two slow kisses to the side of your neck where it meets your shoulder. You fight the urge to lean your head to one side to allow him more access to you, but you don’t want to seem too needy. He would give you a massage; let him give you one. It didn’t have to be about sex, you scolded yourself.

Once he was done with the buttons, he ever so slowly slid the material off your shoulders and down your arms, being sure to trace his fingertips along your flesh. Whether that was by mistake or not, it twisted a knot in your stomach. Any slight touch would have you begging on your knees, and he knew it. He smirked to himself, hearing your pulse increase. If there was anything that would do him in, it was hearing and seeing the effect he had on you.

“Lay down,” he commanded quietly. You immediately laid back down, your head turning to rest against your pillow. You always listened so well, it made him want you even more. Gradually, he could feel himself becoming more and more needy for you. But he had implied a massage, and he would give one.

Once you were comfortable, he pressed his hands into your back. With expert fingers, he kneaded every knot he could find out of your back. Every time he hit an especially sore area, your lips would part, and a pitiful whine would slip between them. And every time, his pants would continue to get tighter and tighter. The last few times he’d pressed his fingers into your muscles, he’d had to suppress a groan at the sounds coming from you. He wanted nothing more than to be the one making you make those sounds, but for a different reason.

His fingers moved their way down to your lower spine, working each area of tightness loose, ensuring that every ounce of stress was pulled from your body. He wanted to make you feel better in any way he could. His one duty at the moment was to heal you.

“That feels good, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes, Matty,” you groaned. He imagined what this interaction might sound like to any passersby outside, and the thought nearly tipped him over. He was so intent on giving you a massage and nothing else that he’d hardly noticed his hands finally reaching the waistband of your skirt. He rolled his fingers just above it, watching as your spine continued to arch against his hands. His core was painfully hard, the pressure nearly too much to handle. His eyes clenched shut as he bit his lip, trying to gain control over himself. The things you did to him were fucking sinful. And you hadn’t even done anything. You were dangerous.

“I’m going to move down to your legs, sweetheart,” he spoke, waiting for the little nod you did each time. You were perfect.

He moved his hands up and over your ass before hitting the backs of your thickened thighs. As he began to massage his hands over them, he glanced up against the hem of your skirt as the curve of your ass drew it up over itself. The fabric was not long enough to completely stretch over you and stopped just above the start of your thighs. He could just barely make out a pair of laced black bottoms placed taut over your core. Your increasingly wettened core. Shining slick spread over the tiny gap where your thighs met. The fabric of your bottoms was soaked. A devilish smirk slipped over his lips as he realized you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you.

With this newfound knowledge, he intended to tease you a little bit. He wanted to let you know how much he truly cared for you, and he wanted to take his time about it.

Slowly, he worked his fingers ever closer to the tops of your thighs where they met together. With each shift forward, he could see your shoulder clench slightly. Your want was growing darker and darker, and he knew it well. Once he was just an inch away from your core, he lingered there, making sure to get every possible bit of stress out. A quick glance up bore him the visual of your lips parted, your eyebrows furrowed, your fingers tightly gripping the sheets.

“Darling?”

“Mm-hmm?” you whined, your voice cracking a bit. You didn’t change your position in the slightest.

“Get on your knees,” he commanded darkly. You whimpered at the change in his tone, quickly propping your body up. You pushed your ass into the air, keeping your elbows and face planted firmly into the pillows. Finally, he’d taken a bit of initiative to do something for you. You were beginning to worry he genuinely only wanted to give you a massage. Perhaps you should have been a bit clearer in your signals.

Once in position, he wasted no time in flipping your skirt over your hips, letting it fall against your back. You shivered at the sensation, feeling the cool air meet your drenched core with an icy kiss. His warm breath expanded across your flesh, combatting the chill.

“So obedient,” he whispered, a small groan coming from his lips as he massaged the sides of your hips. You sighed at his words, clenching the pillowcases as tightly as you could. You were a few moments away from begging for him.

His thumbs finally curved over your ass, slowly caressing the exposed flesh and eventually coming to trace the line of your bottoms as he curved down to your core. You could barely contain any of the noises seeping from your lips as his fingers drew closer to you. You needed him to touch you so badly.

“Matty, please,” you moaned.

“Please, what?” he teased. A single thumb came down to swipe over your core, his flesh dragging against the wet material covering you. An audible shudder went through your body at the sensation.

“More.”

“Of what, darling? I need you to use your words. Can you do that for me?” he asked, his voice teasing and mean.

“Please touch me,” you whined, arching your back toward him. A small chuckle left his lips before he pressed his thumb to you through your bottoms. The sensation pushed a jolt through your body, causing you to buck your hips against him shamelessly. Despite your desperate movements, his stayed exactly the same. Even pressure, moving in tight circles over you, had you panting. Your consistent begging was not lost on his ears as he began to move his fingers faster, never weakening. He’d do this for the rest of eternity if he could continue to hear your beautiful sounds.

“Please, baby, more,” you groaned into the pillows.

“So greedy…,” he drew the words out as he pulled his fingers away from you, much to your dismay, and began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses down your bare back. As his lips curved over the clasp of your bra, his fingers matched their position. He unclipped the material, letting it fall to either side of you.

Once removed, he replaced your bra with his own hands, massaging your breasts slowly, letting the sensation sink in. You gasped as his remarkably hard core brushed against yours. Surely, that had to be frustrating. Why didn’t he just get on with it already? Why must he always tease?

He released your breasts and traced his fingers down your sides, learning every curve and dip. He watched pridefully as you shuddered against his touch, your body so painfully reactive to him.

Once his fingers reached your hips, he hooked them beneath the waistband of your bottoms and slowly, agonizingly, pulled them down to your knees. Then you were completely bare and exposed to him, every part of you catching the cool air. You moaned slightly at the feeling.

There was but a moment of nothing before he clasped his lips around your core, inducing a strong moan from you. He couldn’t help it; he could barely hold himself back as it was, let alone refuse a taste of you. A taste that he had become so accustomed to in the last while. He was sure that the smell and taste of you would revive him from the dead.

He licked and sucked and kissed, spelling out every bit of his passion, fucking his tongue into you. What he did to your body was sinful. Even the slightest of skims of his flesh on yours had you clutching the sheets. It was pathetic, really. You half-cringed at yourself each time a loud moan poured from you, but Mattheo drew closer and closer to his orgasm each time he heard the beautiful noises. The two of you could not have more different opinions on them.

His hands gripped you tightly in place while his mouth showed no mercy—per usual. With each second, you were growing closer to your end. It felt as though Mattheo wanted you to finish all over his face, the way he was feasting on you like a starved man. The sounds that came from his lips and throat as he pleasured himself against your soaked cunt had you clenching around nothing. Surely, he didn’t mean for you to come this way, did he?

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned against you, the vibrations rattling against you. “Cum on my tongue. I want to taste you.”

Fuck, maybe he did want you to come this way. The thought of him purposefully working you toward your end specifically to taste your arousal was nearly enough to send you over the edge.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you whined, your fingers tightening into his hair, scraping his scalp. “Matty, please!”

“Keep saying my name, sweetheart,” he groaned.

With each second you drew closer to your finish, your thighs tightened around his head and your core gushed more and more against his lips. His flesh was raw and painted with you, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for you to come against his face with your fingers in his hair and his name on your tongue. He wanted the whole of Slytherin house to know who you belonged to.

“Baby,” you breathed, your voice becoming high-pitched and pitiful. “M-Matty, I’m gonna c—”

“Cum,” he commanded, his mouth placing one last languorous suck against your core. Your back arched off of the mattress, Mattheo’s name printed on your lips, and passing from every exit. The product of your arousal spilled from you and onto his tongue, which he accepted graciously.

Once you’d finally relaxed and come down off of your high, Mattheo leaned forward and, with complete eye contact, brushed the remnants of your finish off of his chin and licked it off of his fingers.

“Precious material,” he whispered. A tired giggle erupted from you at his words. When he collapsed down next to you and wrapped his arms around you, you thought you’d found the last comfortable place on earth.

In Mattheo’s arms, nobody could get to you, not even the purest of well-wishers. After the entirety of your evening was spent with Mattheo fucking you like only he could, you still found yourself slipping back into a guilty mindset. A sigh left you.

“Still upset?” he whispered against your hair, lips brushing your forehead.

“I just feel guilty,” you said, “I don't want any of these people thinking I’m not grateful. I love gifts, it’s just…”

“Well,” he started. “It’s a good thing you like gifts.”

He leant himself up and reached down over the side of the bed. You pushed yourself to a sitting position to watch as he dug through the pockets of his jacket. In a few seconds, he’d produced a small box, wrapped in green paper, much like Pansy’s. A flush grew on your cheeks.

“Mattheo,” you breathed. You took the gift into your hands. “What on Earth is this?”

“Darling, despite how much you hate the attention, it’s still your birthday,” he chuckled, urging you to open it.

With a small breath, you slipped the top of the gift box up and noticed a small tag on the inside with your name written in Mattheo’s quick scrawl. Beneath the tag, was a small bundle of tissue paper. You felt your pulse increasing by the minute.

With shaking fingers, you unraveled the small amount of tissue paper to reveal an almost complete replica of Mattheo’s ring with a slight feminine touch to it. You gasped, tears pooling.

“Merlin, how much was this?” you asked without thinking. Panic set in at the thought of him spending any amount of money on you. Then you realized it was rude to ask about cost. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Baby, it’s okay,” he laughed. “No material costs could ever outweigh you.” You watched as he pulled it from your hands and gently slid it on your finger.

“There, now everyone will properly know that you’re mine,” he said, smirking.

“I thought you liked to mark me up for that,” you teased. A streak of pride pooled in your stomach as his eyes darkened significantly at your words. You knew that, without a doubt, there was no way you were getting out of this with just one round.

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[boxofbonesfic]

Title: Tonality [4]

Pairing: Prince!Geralt x Princess!Reader

previous chapter

Summary: “The white wolf wants you. He’ll have no other.” As you grieve the loss of your father, your mother marries the king. Whilst you struggle to acclimate to your new life, you begin to suspect the interest your new brother has in you is less than familial.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Dark Fantasy, Darkfic, Step-cest, Medieval/GoT inspired AU, (Future)Smut, Dubcon/Noncon, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: a little more story, a little more tension, a little mor everything! what do you guys always, please mind the warnings, and enjoy!😊🥰 divider by @firefly-graphics​

 The Nilfgaardian banner snaps in the sharp, salt-laden breeze, the dark fabric bearing the crest of its namesake. The bright yellow sun mirrors the one in the cloudless sky above the keep. From your room, you can see their approach long before they reach the gates, a thin vein of black weaving through the countryside like a snake. The garrison pauses only briefly in the city, winding through the crowded streets in their pitch colored armor like a long satin ribbon. You grimace at the sight of them, swallowing against the sourness you feel growing at the back of your throat. 

 You do not know why the sight of them fills you with a dark foreboding, a shadow that looms in the space behind your thoughts. Perhaps it is the knowledge that you are expected to greet the Nilfgaardian envoy alongside your mother, the king, and the prince that makes your stomach curdle.  

“My Lady, should we not join their Majesties?” Kassandra’s voice draws you from your churning thoughts. “Her Highness would not be pleased if we were late.” You swallow the dry retort that your mother would not be pleased no matter what you did, and automatically feel guilt over the bitter thought. You grimace before nodding at Kassandra over your shoulder. 

 Nothing good will come of this. The feeling—no, the knowledge—is as familiar to you as your own name, appearing among your thoughts as if it had always been there. Only sorrow will come of this day. 

 “Are you alright, Your Grace?” 

 Your throat tight, you smile. “Y-yes.” I am grim without cause. You shake yourself, smoothing your hands down the stiff, unfamiliar dress. It’s new, gifted to you only this morning as your mother had informed you of her expectations. 

 “You’ll look lovely in this,” she had bade the servants to lay out the massive thing, a veritable ocean of fabric, with so many skirts and stays you find yourself amazed you can even move at all. You detest the restriction and corsetry of it all, fidgeting with a frustrated grimace as Kassandra opens the door. Your thoughts must be plain on your face, for she is quick to reassure you as you pass.

 “You are a vision, Your Grace,” she says, hurrying to your side as she closes the heavy door behind you. Despite your displeasure, her words do comfort you, and you offer Kassandra a watery smile in thanks. “I daresay you shall be the envy of every Lady in attendance.” 

 You laugh dryly. “Even you?” Kassandra’s response is unexpected—she shakes her head, pressing her lips together into a thin, apologetic smile.

 “No, my Lady.” She says softly. There is true pity in her eyes, which stings all the more. “Though there are many in His Majesty’s keep who would treat with the Gods themselves to take your place—and, exalted though it may be, I am not among them.” The words pass unspoken between you, true honesty masked only slightly by propriety. “I would not wish that for all the world.”

 The throne room is as packed with bodies as it was at your mother’s coronation only a few scant weeks prior, servants weaving deftly in and out of the crowd. It parts easily for you, people scrambling out of your path as you make your way toward the throne. Geralt stands to the king’s left, and you feel the weight of his gaze upon you so heavily it is as though he has touched you with his hand. 

 “My King. I trust you are well this morning?” He heaves a heavy sigh at your question, massaging the graying hair at his temple. 

 “As well as can be expected, given the circumstances.” King Vesemir graces you with a tired smile. “But I am glad these worries are mine. Would that they fall on mine own shoulders and save yours.” Of these troubles, you know only what little you have managed to glean from casual conversation and your own observations—the Lord of Nilfgaard has sent his envoy, along with a garrison of troops, to treat with the king. 

 Your mother scoffs. “You are a King, my love,” she says, tilting her regal head at him. “You can do nothing without rousing at least a little of the rabble.” 

 You take your place next to her, skirting around the prince with a wide berth. Your mother reaches for your hand, patting it as she nods approvingly at you.

 “You look as lovely as I thought you would.” Somehow, her complement makes you like your clothing even less. The dress is heavy and cumbersome, the corset laced so tight a deep breath makes the seams groan. 

 “It is the color.” Geralt’s interjection makes your mother’s smile thin and tighten, until the edges seem brittle like paper. “It suits you, sister.” Is there no line he will not cross? From behind his wide shield of plausible deniability he mocks you, his mouth quirking innocently as if he is unaware of the boundary he dances upon. Gracious acceptance is the only play you have, and he knows it as well. 

 “You are too kind, my Prince.” You clasp your hands together and face forward. It is surreal, almost, to see the calm with which he regards you now, when only a week ago he had raged at your door like a madman. Had you not seen it yourself, you would not think it possible. Though you would blame him for it, the nervous twisting of your stomach is not Geralt’s fault alone. The ill feeling that had taken root in your belly at the sight of the Nilfgaardian envoy still left you with a sour taste on your tongue, one that did not seem to wash away. 

 And the dreams…

 You shudder to think of them, the dark, creeping things that keep you awake long after the halls of the king’s keep have fallen silent. You have not wandered from your rooms again to your knowledge, but you’ve slept so little in the past week that you suspect it is less a matter of your self control and more the lack of opportunity. The nails on your fingers, hidden by the cumbersomely long sleeves of your dress, are bitten down to the quick. It is a new habit you’ve developed sitting in the crushing dark as you wait for the dreams to come. 

 Your father’s rotting face swims before you again. 

 Sugar sweet—  

 You twist the heavy fabric of your sleeves in your nervous hands as you stare hard at the stone floor between your feet. 

 “What troubles you, Little Doe?” Geralt’s voice is as much of a surprise as his proximity, his side lightly pressing against your own as he leans down. You drop your hands to your sides like deadweight, suddenly aware of his eye. 

 “And why would you think me troubled?” You ask curtly. The prince’s wolfish grin sends a strange, hot pulse straight to your core, one you vehemently try to ignore. You are under no pretense, you know what the prince is, who he is. He has gone out of his way to show you, and yet—

 “I am apt to know trouble when I see it.” 

 The throne room doors slam open, leaving you no time to respond as every eye is drawn to the entrance. The instant hush that falls over the room is so deep that the herald’s voice is like a crack of thunder. At the same time, your stomach tightens. The dark warning in your heart rings again like a bell, clear and true. Though you still do not quite grasp its meaning, the message is clear—whatever you’d been meant to avoid had now come to pass, leaving no room for escape or denial. 

 “Presenting His Lordship, Duke Emhyr of Nilfgaard!” The duke sweeps into the throne room, his ink-black cloak billowing behind him. There are two of his own guards flanking him in their telltale black armor, like pools of animated shadow. Their faces are hidden by their helms, the sides carved like griffin wings. 

 The duke stops before the throne, dropping down to one knee. 

 “My King.” His accented common turns the words up at the edges, almost like a question. “Hail.” His face is handsome but severe, high cheekbones, fierce, beady eyes, and a thin mouth that curls up at the corners, just like his words. There is a scar on his face, long and thin and jagged, stretching from his left temple to the right side of his chin. His already wan smile thins further as he turns to your mother. 

 “My Queen.” 

 “Lord Emhyr.” The duke’s smile is wan as he dips his head again. “I bid thee welcome. I trust you found the journey pleasant enough.” The words are empty pleasantries, merely frivolous formalities exchanged before the truth is allowed to be addressed. 

 “Aye, Majesty, as enjoyable as one can find a carriage journey.” He straightens back up. “I would extend my many congratulations on your union. The Gods themselves could not have delivered a more beautiful Queen.” 

 To your surprise, it is Geralt who speaks next. 

 “We did miss you at the celebration, my Lord.” The remark is meant to sound like a casual observation—you know it is not. “Quite a pity.”

 Emhyr’s jaw tics. “Indeed.” He looks over his left shoulder, and motions the guards forward. “My deepest regrets. As I previously expressed to His Majesty, my presence was required elsewhere. As I am sure you recall, we do share a border with the Elves.” He spits the word like a curse. “Occasionally those savages do need a good reminding of where their lands end, and ours begin, Your Grace.” 

 You shudder. There are few elves left south of the heavily policed Nilfgaardian border, but you have met some. Savages. The word makes your lip curl. They are rather fond of that word, aren’t they?

 “I did bring a—belated—wedding present.” Between the two of them, the guards haul forward a small black chest, the polished wood glinting in the light. He pulls back the lid, and a murmur travels through the gathered courtiers at the sight of the jewels. A small fortune in dark blue sapphires sits within. King Vesemir stands, bidding two of the ivory cloaked kings-guard forward to take the chest.

 “A most precious gift.”

 “The mines remain prosperous. Perhaps Her Highness might have them made into something befitting her loveliness.” A smile creases your mother’s ruby lips, but it is sharp enough to cut. Neither does it reach her narrowed eyes. 

 “We cannot thank you enough for your gracious gift, my Lord.” Her voice is delicate, like breaking glass. “But I do not believe you rode for six days to bear witness to my beauty.” You are left to wonder in the brief moments before Duke Emhyr answers. If he will allow the truth to be broached, or if he will flee from it like a rat from a burning ship. 

 “Indeed my Queen, I have not.” He casts a look around, as if the words he is about to speak are for everyone there, not just the king. “Your Grace, I come before you today with only the deepest respect for your will, authority, and wisdom.” Duke Emhyr chooses his words carefully. He chooses them as carefully as a mason did his stones, stacking each one meticulously on top of the other. “But I do admit my heart longs for clarity on this matter. 

 Not a season past, when His Majesty announced an end to his long mourning period, and indeed his intent to marry once more, I did put forth my own daughter as prospect.” His accusation takes shape, and you watch your mother’s face tighten, her fingers curling around the polished bone arm of her throne. “And before this very court, His Majesty agreed. I had imagined a shared future of prosperity and happiness between both our great houses. I mean no offense, and so I beg pardon—”

 “And yet you have given it.” Your mother’s expression remains placid—her voice less so. You can almost hear the icy words forming on her tongue as her lips part to speak again, but the king silences her, holding up one steady hand. 

 “I appreciate your candor, my Lord,” he leans forward. “But it is Vesemir who rules here, not Emhyr.” All chatter ceases, and the chamber is as quiet as the crypt beneath it. “The decision as to who it is I marry is mine—and mine alone.” King Vesemir stands, descending the short set of steps until he is level with the duke. “It is I who bears the burden of ensuring the prosperity and stability of this realm. And while I am ever thankful for the service you have provided it… you would do well to remember that fact, my Lord.” 

 “Of course, my King. I—I mean only for the betterment of the empire.” It is then that his eye falls to you. “I see no reason a match might not still be made—”

 “Then we shall speak no more about it.” You watch the duke’s jaw tighten, his lips thinning as he fights not to show his displeasure. 

 “As you will, Your Grace.” You have not heard the last of this matter, of that you are certain. A sinking feeling rises in your stomach, like you’ve tumbled freely over the edge of a cliff. There is no going back, the feeling seems to whisper, goosebumps erupting across your flesh. A path has been chosen now and you will walk it—

 “I thank you again for your generous gift, Lord Emhyr,” the dismissal is obvious in the king’s tone. 

 “The pleasure is mine, my liege.” The words sound broken in his mouth, like he’s chewed them up. A cold finger traces down your spine as his eyes meet yours again. “I thank you for your counsel.” 

 —

 The sky is dark, angry black clouds roiling above the keep. You’ve not seen much rainfall in Rivia since your arrival, but today the clouds above you seem full to bursting, the smell of the imminent downpour filling your nostrils. Still, you take your time as you stroll through the gardens, stopping every so often to enjoy the sight of flowers in bloom. 

 “You are enjoying the gardens today, my Lady,” Kassandra’s observance is gently made, though she looks worriedly up at the sky. 

 “I feel I must,” you reply, leaning down to inspect a half-closed bud. “Summer here is drawing to a close, and I must admit I fear the cold.” You offer her a small smile over your shoulder. 

 “Have you no winter in Redania?” She asks, wonder coloring her words. “The land of eternal summer indeed.” 

 “No snow,” you agree, shaking your head. “Tis more like… autumn.” There is a wistfulness to your words you cannot suppress, a longing that brings moisture to your eyes. In truth, you doubt it will matter how many years you spend here at court—Rivia will never feel like home. Kassandra smiles thoughtfully. 

 “I should like to see it, my Lady,” she says. “Twould not be a chore to accompany you—if you wished it so. The winter here is harsh, even within the city walls.” 

 “Aye, winter on the continent is no easy task to weather.” The two of you turn at the sound of a new voice to face the speaker. Duke Emhyr bows respectfully, removing his cap as he does so. “I did not mean to intrude—I find the gardens less familiar than I imagined,” he adds, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Might I trouble you for an escort?” 

 You had not seen the duke since his spectacle at court the day prior, the matter of which had the courtiers aflutter with gossip. You suppose you, like Duke Emhyr, had been equally blindsided in the matter of your mother’s courtship and her subsequent marriage. Nervously, you wonder if his feelings of dissatisfaction—and possible animosity—extend to you by proxy. Kassandra curtsies, and you nod, forcing a small, charitable smile onto your lips. 

 “O-of course, my Lord.” You reply. “I myself find the task of navigating the keep daunting, despite calling this place home.” Kassandra falls into step just behind you, and you must physically stop yourself from commanding her to walk beside you. Though you’ve little personal regard for the importance of blood and titles, you know here in Rivia those things matter above all else. The duke is more than happy to ignore her, his hawkish eyes weighing heavily on you. 

 “How long has it been since your arrival at the White Keep, if you will indulge my curiosity?” 

 “Nearly three months.” Though you have kept count of every passing day since your arrival, to say it aloud makes homesickness rear up in your chest. The duke clucks his tongue pityingly. 

 “Tis a shame. Redania is quite beautiful this time of year. I have had the pleasure of many a visit.” He clasps his hands behind his back and casts a look at the dreary sky. “Nilfgaard is my home, but I would be a liar if I said I did not envy the beauty of the southern jewel.” The wistfulness in his voice inspires thoughts of warm autumn nights scented with pine and faded sunlight. But a warning echoes in your heart at the false note in it, the one that reminds you of the coy, prying questions of your mother’s ladies in waiting, only cloaked in a cleverer disguise.

 “Indeed.” You round the corner of a hedge. “I have never seen snow, now that I think of it. I should much like to, now that I am older.” 

 “Never seen snow?” The duke echoes your words, replacing your simple desire with shock. “Though I would not speak ill of your late father—Redania has never seen a finer Regent—I do believe he kept you far too sheltered.” It takes effort to keep your smile from going thin at the mention of your father. As  if in response, a dull ache throbs in your chest. 

 “How lucky for us, then, that his death should bring me here.” You flick the words from your tongue like the lashing of a whip. There is a brief moment of dark satisfaction as the duke’s eyes widen, and his confident words falter. 

 “My sincerest apologies, Princess, I did not mean—”

 “No, of course not.” You reply, swallowing against the sudden lump in your throat. “Forgive me, Duke Emhyr. My father I are—were, quite close.” You offer him an apologetic smile. “Might we speak of something else?” 

 “Of course, of course. My deepest sympathies.” He casts a furtive glance in your direction. “I hope you have been enjoying your time here, despite the… unfortunate circumstances.” You nod primly—for what words do you have to  describe the aching emptiness that fills you at the thought that home is a distant             thing now, the memory of a place you no longer belong. 

 “I have found ways to occupy myself.” You feel as thin as your smile. “The White Keep is large, there are many ways to spend ones time.”

 “And Her Majesty has certainly taken to her role,” he continues. “She has taken to court as though she were born here.” There is a note of bitterness in his voice. “Has she spent much time in Rivia? Surely during His Majesty’s rather short courtship—”

 “I know little of my mother’s courtship,” you say flatly, your eyes narrowed. “If you wish to know about it, perhaps you should ask her.” This time, it is difficult to leash your ire. You grow tired of the duke’s probing, his thinly veiled attempts to pick information from conversation behind the shield of feigned ignorance.

 “Highness—”

 “I trust you will can your way from here.” There is an unfamiliar coldness that underscores your words, one that uncomfortably reminds you of your mother. It is like hearing her own voice from your mouth, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. “Lady Kassandra, l believe we should take our leave.” 

 “At once, My Lady.”

 You leave him at the entrance to the gardens in the courtyard, sweeping past as his eyes bore into your back. 

 —

 “How does it end?” You are sat before the fire, a book held tenuously in your hands. Your loose, traditional dress is folded beneath you primly as the flames dance in the hearth. “How does it end?” Your father repeats warmly, chuckling as he leans forward to rest a hand on your shoulder. “You stopped reading.” 

 You can’t quite recall where you were now, the words seeming to shift on the page as you squint at them. 

 “I… I don’t remember now,” you say, glancing over your shoulder at your father. Though the flames are bright, his face is shadowed, but you get the feeling that he is smiling. 

 “The princess has just met the wolf,” he replies. “She doesn’t know it yet, but he plans to devour her whole—body, and spirit.” You look down at the page. “She is careful, the princess, and clever, but the wolf is sly, and he is not the only thing she has to fear.” You do not know why, but his words fill you with an incomparable sorrow. 

 “What else does she have to fear? Is the wolf not enemy enough?” You are crying. You don’t know why, but you are, tears pouring down your face and dripping messily off of your chin to stain the pages with salt. 

 “Weep not, daughter. She may yet avoid his jaws—and if not that, then perhaps she might at least turn him to her will. But the peacock—she is her true enemy.” 

 “A bird?”

 “Yes, dear girl,” your father’s voice goes strangely quiet as the fire burns low in the hearth, and the sitting room is shrouded in gloom. “For while her pretty feathers distract you, her beak plucks out your eyes.” 

 You wake blearily, blinking in the darkness as you struggle back to wakefulness. Instead of your bed, you are knelt on the cold, stone floor in front of the half-dead hearth. The embers that still smolder within are not enough to give off true heat, and pins shoot through your legs when you struggle to your feet. It is frigid in here, and you shiver, clutching your thin nightgown tightly around yourself. 

 You’ve no memory of leaving your bed, nor of kneeling in front of the hearth, and you sniffle as you make your way back beneath the canopy above your bed. There is a familiar ache in your tight throat that feels like you’ve been crying, and when you lift a shaking hand to your cheek. 

 Your face is wet with tears.

 —

 Your mother strokes your head as you sob, your tears soaking into her gown. 

 “I—I fear sleep, I fear waking,” you rasp, wiping at your sore eyes with the back of one trembling hand. “T-there is no respite from them. I close my eyes in one place and open them in another—” A hiccoughing sob cuts the words in half. “Mother I fear I… I fear I shall go mad if I see father again. His face—!” You bury your head in her lap as another round of shuddering sobs wracks your limp body. 

 It has been years since you have sought your mother’s comfort like this, and in truth you cannot remember the last time it was even offered. She had been surprised to see you at her chamber door at this hour, disheveled and still clad in your nightgown, but she had let you in after you’d tearfully recounted the contents of your dreams. 

 She strokes your head. “Nightmares, my love. Nothing but terrors spun up by your mind—brought on from stress, no doubt.” Her hand is cool and comforting against your forehead. “I shall have the healer assemble something for you.” 

 “T-thank you, mother.” You offer her a watery smile.

 “Anything for you, my love.” She strokes your cheek affectionately, the bandage wrapped around her index finger rough against your skin. “I do so hate to hear of your suffering, I will do what I can to appease it.” You smile wider, even as you swallow back the inappropriately bitter feeling that says you have been suffering all this time regardless. This was the response you had desired from her all those weeks ago when you’d begged her to send you home—and now, for some reason, it feels… hollow. 

 “What happened to your finger?” You ask, and she sighs, waving her hand dismissively. 

 “A hairpin, nothing to worry yourself over.” You dry your eyes, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. Your mother barely acknowledges the timid knock at the door before the chambermaid pokes her head inside. 

 “Highness? H-His Majesty is here.” 

 Your mother does not look surprised to hear this. If anything, the corners of her mouth curl up into a sly smile for half an instant before she nods. 

 “I see. I shall see to him in a moment—” The maid squeals as the King himself pushes past her, his eyes wild. 

 “Thayet!” He calls your mother’s name with a hoarse, desperate voice. “I have waited over an hour for you—oh.” He seems to note your presence with all of the recognition one would give a fly. His bright, golden eyes are cloudy with confusion—as though he hasn’t the faintest idea who you are, or why you are there. Recognition finally lights in his eyes, and he nods at you. 

“Princess. It is… quite late,” he says slowly, as if he is only now realizing that fact himself. “Should you not be abed?” Your face heats with embarrassment. 

 “Ah, y-yes, my King. I was… troubled.” Your eyes dart between him and your mother. “But mother has allayed my fears.” You gather your shawl about your shoulders, bowing your head respectfully. Of course he would visit her as a husband—that is a fact you suppose you have known since you came to this place, but to catch the King in your mother’s bedchamber was another thing entirely. 

 The eagerness in his eyes as he looks at her, the way he licks his lips—it reminds you uncomfortably of Geralt, and of the need you see mirrored in his amber eyes. You retreat from the sitting room, though the sound of your mother’s voice makes you glance over your shoulder one last time as the door begins to close. 

 “I shall send Callista with a sleeping draught,” your mother calls at your retreating back. “For the dreams.” 

 Your stomach turns uncomfortably as you watch the king latches onto your mother, pulling her close as he trails desperate kisses down her arm. You are too far away to hear the words he growls through his gritted teeth before ripping at the bandage on her thumb and sucking the injured digit into his mouth. 

 The door closes with a loud bang, leaving you alone in the dark, empty hall. 

 The peacock, your father whispers in your memory as you shuffle back toward your room in the early hours.

 She’ll pluck out your eyes. 

to be continued…

Thank you for reading! Please check out my masterlist for other, similar works, and follow my library blog, @box-of-bones-library for updates. ❤️

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x you #geralt of rivia smut #geralt smut #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt x y/n #dark fantasy #dark!fic #darkfic #boxofbonesfic #tonality fic

[eyesxxyou]

(rq, ftm!reader) maybe something w all the diff variants of hobie? them all spoiling you, being all touchy and needy, maybe something about how much they need this, how in their universe you're still in the friendzone

-🕸

💿 ꩜ ❝ favor ❞ hobie brown x ftm trans!reader ꩜ 💿

❝ contents ❞ dilf!Hobie, loser!Hobie, mean!Hobie, kissing, palming, sharing between them, dry humping, implied foursome

Hands. So many hands. Pulling at your clothes, grappling at your flesh. Fingers press and knead supple skin to bruise under the weight of their desire. Lips pass you around like a joint, each maintaining the same shape you almost thought you were kissing the same person. You were kissing the same person technically. There were just so many of him.

Hobies, all spawning from universes slightly different than the next. Their lips all tasted the same but it was no difficult feat differentiating one from the other based on how they loved you. Despite their hands, fiending for a feel, a sliver, a taste of you, they take turns with you.

You’re passed between the 3 of them, so similar yet so different it leaves you delirious.

The first one is visibly older than the rest of them by about 10 years, settled nicely in his early to mid 30s. Hobie was handsome, aged like fine wine. Smile lines etched into his dark skin by the sands of time, a few stray hairs slowly turning more gray by the day. He lived a happy life, presumably with a child. You wondered if in his universe, they were yours; that child.

He kissed you deeply, like he missed you, like it’s been so long. His hand settled against your neck, between the peppered kisses of the others against your tender pulse points. Thumb stroking against the rhythmic beat of your pulse.

This Hobie held an air of maturity around him, a responsibility that the other have yet to understand. His tongue lapped at the seam of your lips and with each stroke he coaxed your lips apart. “Are ya ‘kay wit’ this?” The sweet baritone of his voice hummed against your lips, hand holding your waist to keep your body flushed with his. You nodded, sighing just enough to let him slip his tongue into your mouth and explore steadily cautiously.

He took his time exploring you. Lavishing in every shiver and moan you offered up to him like a sacrifice to a god. “It's okay,” he cooed into your mouth, “yer such a good boy f’me. ‘m gonna pass ya off but I’ll be righ’ here if ya need me.”

He offered you up to the next Hobie and you cried softly at the feeling of his lips leaving yours but just as quickly as his lips parted, another pair found yours, identical to his.

His hands were far more timid, his kisses less experienced than those that preceded him. It was almost cute how hard he tried to kiss you with some semblance of authority. It was an act and you knew it. It was easy to overpower him, your tongue dragged over his bottom one, teeth nipping til he moaned.

This Hobie almost trembled under your touch, stammering over his few words. “Fuck, yer— God…” he let out in baded breaths “Yer so-” he choked. “Pretty.” He panted into your mouth, hands squeezing softly at the pudge of your body. Your hands guided his from place to place, letting him find purchase on your ass where he kneaded the flesh almost respectfully.

“He doesn't know how to handle you.” Another Hobie whispered in your ear, his hands grasping your waist and pulling you out of the weak grasp of one Hobie and into the next.

This one, this one was aggressive, demanding. His hands grasped so hard that you were sure there’d be bruises in their shape later on. Despite all their holding, caressing, grabbing, and pulling. Hands sliding under your shirt, brushing over your swollen, perky nipples. This one held you the tightest.

His hand held a firm place around your tender throat, squeezing until you felt you could hardly draw air into your lungs. You liked his roughness, the way he bit your lip and drew just the smallest bit of blood until your kiss held the smallest twing of a metallic aftertaste.

This Hobie was the possessive type, his eyes flickered to the others and his lips curled into a snarl at them. He had look in his golden gaze, feral, mean, unyielding. Not in the mood to share. His tongue parted your lips forcefully, stroking your tongue and pressing it back to give himself full access to your hot, wet mouth. His hand reached between your thighs and cupped your sweet cunt in his large palm, claiming it as his.

“The tings I’d do t’ya if I had ya alone.” He murmured.

“Don't hog ‘im. He’s ours too.” The second Hobie whined, his hands tugging at you to pull you back into his arms. His lips were against the side of your throat, the thick of his clothed cock pressed against the round of your ass.

“We agreed to share.” The older Hobie commented. He grabbed your chin gently and turned your pretty little head towards him. His eyes were softer than the other two, wiser as well.

“Ya don' know how much we need this, luv. Yer doin’ is a favor. Be a good boy f’me and le’ is ‘ave our way wit’cha, yeah?”

You found yourself nodding, a choked whimper escaping your lips as the last Hobie, the mean one grasped your face, nimble yet strong fingers turning your face to kiss you while the quiet Hobie kept thrusting his hips into you, whining all the while into the nape of your neck.

You told yourself you were doing them a favor.

taglist: @hobs-kiss, @hoe-bie

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #hobie brown #spider punk #hobie brown x ftm!reader #hobie brown x transmasc!reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x male reader #spiderpunk x male!reader #spiderpunk fic #spiderpunk smut #atsv hobie smut

[thebadgerclan]

My Venus

Pairing: King George III x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You are his Venus...

It was nearly impossible to quell your panic when you received the summons.  If Princess Augusta called for you, it was seldom for a good reason, and you had no reason to believe she was summoning you for anything less than a scolding.  So, you were quite surprised when the Princess invited you into her sitting room, poured you tea, and offered you a scone.

“Lady Y/N,” she began.  “I have heard you are quite adept in the art of herbal remedies.  Is this true?”  You cocked your head.  “Indeed it is, Your Royal Highness.”  “How skilled would you say you are?  Akin to a licensed apothecary?”  You set your teacup down.  “Might I inquire as to why you are asking, ma’am?”  Augusta sighed, waving the servants out of the room.

“Very well, I shall be blunt.  My son, His Majesty, is not….he is not well.  I was hoping that perhaps you could be of assistance.”  You did your best to hide the shock on your face.  “Not well?  How so, ma’am?”  “That is not relevant,” the Princess snapped.  “Can you help him or not?”  The dowager clearly did not want to discuss the issue in depth, but how could you assist if you did not know what the issue was?

“As it stands, no, ma’am, I cannot.”  “Whyever not?”  “I do not know what ails His Majesty,” you explained.  “A sore throat is treated quite differently than a headache.  If I do not know what the problem is, then I cannot help.”  Princess Augusta sighed, pinching her brow.  “I am afraid I do not know how to describe the issue.”  “Then there is little I can do.  Unless I might speak to His Majesty…”  “Out of the question.”  You stood, folding your hands before you.  “Then I am afraid there is nothing I can do.  Good day, Your Highness.”

You were nearly to the door when she called out to you.  “Fine!  I will…speak to Georgie.”  Smiling, you dipped into a curtsey.  “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” you said.  “I look forward to meeting His Majesty.”

***

A mere two days later, you were seen to King George III’s personal study.  “Presenting the Lady Y/N L/N!”  You dropped into a deep curtsey when you entered, waiting for the King to acknowledge you.  “Please,” the King said.  “Have a seat, my lady.”  You rose and did as you were bade.  “It is an honor, Your Majesty,” you said, folding your hands atop your lap to keep from fidgeting.  “I assume your royal mother has informed you as to why I am here?”

“Indeed she has,” the King said.  “Though I am afraid your time may be wasted.  Doctors from across the continent have tried and failed to cure me.”  You nodded, unused to seeing your sovereign in such a vulnerable state.  “Your Majesty, might you describe your troubles to me?  So I might ascertain how best to help?” Again, the King sighed.  “It is as if my mind separates from my body,” he began.  “I begin to tremble, usually in my hands, my speech becomes disorganized, my neck twitches.  I talk nonsense, you see, and there have been times…”  George paused, taking a few deep breaths.  “There have been times when I have eloped from the palace grounds.  Many times baring myself to the elements in the process.”

You only nodded.  “I see.  Is there anything that appears to precede an…episode?  Something that might trigger these bouts?”  The King nodded.  “Stressors seem to be the common thread.  Frankly, I believe it may be a way for my mind to escape uncomfortable situations.”  “It very well could be,” you agreed.  “I can concoct a syrup of lavender and chamomile that may help to calm you.  And..if I may ask something of Your Majesty?”

George nodded.  “Please, do.”  “If I could observe one of you…episodes, I may be able to see if there is anything further I can do.”  For a moment, the King thought, before nodding again.  “I can have my Man call for you.  Though I must warn you, it will not be pleasant to witness.”  “I care not if it is pleasant,” you replied.  “I care for Your Majesty’s wellness.”

The King had been anticipating this conversation to be a difficult one, something that might trigger a panic as soon as you left the room, but quite the opposite had happened.  George found your presence soothing and calming; the moment you began speaking, the tremor in his hands had ceased.  Perhaps you could aid him in more ways that he had thought.

*** Sure enough, Reynolds called for you when the King had his next episode.  It was jarring, to be sure.  He was nude in the gardens, calling for Venus to speak to him.  You had only heard stories of people acting in such manners, usually insane patients in asylums.  But not the King, never the King.  How was this the same man you had spoken to only a day ago?

Then, the King had turned his attention to you.  His eerie smile grew even wider, and he moved towards you in quick strides.  Reynolds had told you that the King was never violent during his episodes, but you still felt fear building in you.  “Y/N,” he said, reaching out for you.  “It is Y/N!”  Cautiously, you took a step forward.  “Yes, George, it is Y/N.  I am here.”

The King let out a gleeful laugh and threw himself into your arms.  “Y/N!  Oh, the beautiful Y/N!”  You wrapped your arms around him, supporting his weight.  “George, it is quite cool tonight,” you said.  “We ought to return indoors, don’t you think?  We could get you some lavender-chamomile tea to warm up?”

“Would you stay with me?” he asked, and you nodded.  “Of course, George.  Now come.”  To yours and Reynolds’ complete shock, the King followed you inside, letting himself be cleaned up and a cup of tea pressed into his hands.  As you were leaving, Reynolds pulled you aside.  “I have never seen him come out of it so fast,” he said.  “There is something about you.”

***

The following day, you were once more summoned to Princess Augusta.  “I heard what happened last night,” she said, though there was no accusation in her voice.  “What you did for my son has never happened.  Therefore, I want you to be his companion from now on.”  “Wh- Your Highness?”  “You calm him,” she went on.  “I am not suggesting it is a cure, but something about your presence soothes the King.  Therefore, I want you to be at his side.”

“I…it would be my pleasure, Your Royal Highness.”  “Indeed it will be,” she said, and with a wave of her hand, you were dismissed.  George was slightly hesitant about your new relationship, but he adjusted rather quickly.  You did indeed have a calming effect on him, and after a week, he saw you more as a friend than someone meant to keep him in check.

And soon after, the King felt his feelings growing further.  You were a rare beauty, you were kind, funny, demure, well read, and you defended him to those who questioned him.  George realized it late one night as he was pouring over his star charts: he had fallen in love with you.  Little did he know your feelings had blossomed in the same manner.  

The King was devastatingly handsome, but he was shockingly sweet too.  He was quick with a joke when the situation called for one, he was strong; in the physical sense as much as the emotional one.  He cared for his people, he genuinely cared, and he seemed to enjoy your company.  You had quickly become the King’s friend, but now, you knew that your heart was his, completely and irrevocably.

***

One afternoon, King George had asked you to accompany him to his observatory on the grounds of Kew palace.  Again, you were shocked by the King’s intelligence and the passion he had for astrology.  “There is little to see in the daylight,” he said, rummaging through stacks of parchment.  “But this…I wanted you to see this.”  

It was a drawing of a woman, a beautiful woman, and you looked at George quizzically.  “It is Venus,” he elaborated.  “The Roman goddess.  It is after her that the celestial body is named.”  “How lovely,” you said, unsure of what else you could say.  “She is the goddess of love and beauty, did you know that?”  “I did not.”

George reached out and took your hand.  “I must ask your forgiveness if I am too bold, but you are striking, Y/N.  Your beauty knows no bounds, your kindness and compassion is endless.  When I am in my fits, I speak of Venus.  Something about her soothes me, somehow brings me back.  But you, Y/N, you have become my Venus.  And I…I want you to be my Venus.”

His hands had begun to shake, and you took them in yours.  “George,” you said. “Are you asking me…”  “Might I call upon you?” he asked.  “Might I court you?  For I believe I have fallen in love, Y/N.  I need you, I need my Venus.”  You felt a smile take over your face, and you brought his hands to your lips, kissing them sweetly.  “Then you shall have your Venus.”

#king george iii x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #king george x reader #bridgerton reader insert