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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 1 - The Introduction

Summary: Captain Price has been fighting the requests to add an omega to his team until those requests become commands. You find yourself traveling half a world away to join a pack of highly trained soldiers to balance out their dynamic. Not all of them are quite so happy about your arrival, but you're a good omega who does as you're told.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, brief moments of panic on the reader's side, scenting, military inaccuracies, let's be real this is so unrealistic but it's a/b/o you're not here for accuracy.

Author's Note: I couldn't help it and I've found myself falling into the Call of Duty brainrot once again so here I am to bless you with some poly 141 a/b/o goodness. It's just part 1, I promise things will get better as the story goes along.

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“I don’t like this.”

“Believe me, John, I know. But the higher ups are putting a lot of pressure on us with this initiative and I’ve pushed back as much as I can. They’re convinced it will be good for morale and team dynamics.”

He wants to protest, but he’s been protesting this idea for three months. “What more can you tell me about her?”

“Not much that isn’t already in her file.” Her tone is not lost on him. She can, but that’s not a conversation to be held over the phone. “She’s quiet and polite, a bit jumpy but she relaxes once she gets to know you. Remember, I picked her out myself.”

That doesn’t make him feel any better.

He flips through the file again after he hangs up with Laswell. He almost has it memorized by now, having looked through time and time again since the letter was dropped on his desk three months ago.

He stares at the photo, the headshot taken by the institute in her file. She’s cute, as most omegas are. American, but she had grown up on military bases. At least this world wasn’t entirely unfamiliar to her. He grimaces as he looks over her DOB below the photo. She’s young, younger than he would have liked, but at least she was old enough to drink.

He sighs through his nose as he flips through her records. She’s been in the institute for nearly ten years, likely sent as soon as she presented. He flips through page after page of test results, notes from her instructors, personality and temperament analysis, essays and essays worth of information written on her and also by her. He didn’t care so much about what her instructors thought, he was more interested in her.

“Christ.” He breathes as he pauses on the page with her statistics, rubbing his eyes. The file has everything in it, down to heat tracking and her early signs it was starting.

As if he doesn’t have enough to worry about, now he’s going to have an omega under his care.

He hasn’t considered taking an omega in well over a decade. Back when he had been young and reckless, he had once considered starting his own pack, but then his career in the military began to take off and he let that dream go. It became too dangerous, and he had seen many times what happened to omegas who were left behind during deployments for too long.

His team didn’t need an omega. He had briefly considered it in the beginning as they adjusted to the new dynamics, but he knew it was too dangerous and their schedules were far too unpredictable for the sort of stability omegas needed. He had fought time and time again against the push to add an omega to the team. They had settled into their roles easily, and operated perfectly fine with the missing dynamic.

Then the Omega Initiative was born and he found himself with no grounds to refuse anymore. Task Force 141 was getting an omega whether they wanted one or not.

He can’t help the tickle in the back of his mind that something else might be going on. He flips back to the first page, staring at the omega’s photo. They’d be here in a week. She’d be flying with Laswell to London where she’d be given a few days to adjust before they’d fly in here and she’ll be left with her new pack.

Price closes the file, leaning back in his chair. He has a lot to do in the next week.

You stare down at the files laid out on the table. Four of them, hardly more than a single page each, most of which was blacked out. They’re all older than you, their birth years at least visible to you. Most of the things on the file you don’t understand, and you weren't even sure how tall they were since you can’t convert meters to feet in your head.

You’re tired and on edge, nervous about tomorrow when you'd meet your new pack. You sit back in your seat, letting out a long breath.

“I know.” Station Chief Laswell, Kate as you had been told to call her, takes the seat across from you. “You’re going to have to get used to hearing the word classified. What they tell you about themselves is, of course, up to them, but the things they do, the places they go, even with your security clearance as high as it is, that will all still be-”

“Classified?” You finish for her.

Kate smiles. “Exactly. It’s mostly for your safety. The less you know...”

The less there is to make you a target.

You’d been given that speech before you left D.C. You’d been given a lot of briefings, as Kate had called them, since you had been pulled into the director’s office at The Institute and told to pack your bag. You remembered Kate and the interview you had done a few days prior. It hadn’t been any different than the other interviews you’d done before, except that you were chosen this time.

What had come after was three months of intense briefings and training, for what, you hadn’t really known at the time. They had told you little, at least until last week when Kate pulled you into her office and told you what was happening and why it was happening and where you were going.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, though.” Kate continues, something you’ve been told over and over again during your briefings. “They’re all good men. John and I know each other well. I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you could handle them.”

You continue to stare at the files. Two alphas, two betas. It wasn’t an unusual pack, evenly balanced, except for the missing omega. If the situation were different they may have elected to have two omegas to keep the even balance. This wasn’t a normal situation, though. This was a military pack, special forces at that. It wasn’t unusual for packs to form on bases, especially those stationed together for long periods of time. Alphas and betas united together with one purpose, one collective goal.

That was why so many alphas were drawn to the military.

That, and the excuse for violence.

Omegas weren’t allowed to enlist, omegas weren’t allowed to hold many jobs at all. It was usually only in special circumstances, and even then, they were more likely to be assigned into a pack than be allowed to work and care for themselves. In a lot of ways you were lucky. You wouldn’t have to fight to find a pack, fight to find a match, fight for one of the few decent alphas left in the world. Your road had been chosen for you as soon as you presented.

In a lot of ways, though, things were worse for you.

“How do you feel?” Kate asks, looking you over. You’ve grown to like the beta Station Chief in the weeks you’ve spent together.

“Tired.” You run a hand across your face.

“The time difference will do that to you.” Kate says, giving you a sympathetic look. “Not to mention everything else.” Kate stands, stacking the files and pushing them to the center of the table. “I have a couple more errands to run, so get some rest. I’ll pick us up some dinner on the way back.”

You look nervous.

He can’t blame you. He’d felt a bit of a nervous twist to his stomach this morning as he’d finished ensuring everything was in place. He doesn’t often get nervous anymore, years and years of experience giving him the ability to expect anything and react accordingly.

This is different, though. This isn’t a soldier he’s greeting, this is an omega.

His omega.

As Pack Alpha he had more of a claim to you than anyone else. It was his mark you’d wear, his scent that everyone would notice first. It was his duty to protect you, to ensure you have everything you need. You’re not another member of his team, you’re not even a soldier. You’re just a poor civilian that’s been thrust into this world of danger and secrecy.

“Captain Price.” Laswell greets him, shaking his hand.

He greets her back, but he can’t help his gaze as it flickers to the omega. You’re small, as expected of an omega. Your sweatshirt hides most of your curves, but your jeans hug your full thighs. Most omegas are small and soft, designed to be held and healthy enough to bear children when cared for correctly.

He doesn’t even want to think about that.

Laswell introduces you, your feet shuffling a bit as you step forward toward him. Coming from an institute, you likely hadn’t had much contact with alphas before now. You try to stand taller, look braver as you stand before him, but he can smell the tangy edge of anxiety surrounding your scent.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” You say, shaking his hand. It’s small and warm in his, your skin soft and slightly clammy.

“The pleasure is mine.” He says, releasing your hand.

You let it drop to your side, pulling your sleeve down over your fingers. You shift on your feet, your body language betraying your nervousness. Hunched shoulders, fingers tugging your sleeves over your hands, shifting your weight foot to foot as if you might take off running at a moment’s notice. Your eyes dart across the airfield taking in the movement around them. You’re on edge, alert, and likely a little overwhelmed.

“I’ll show you around and let you get settled.” He says, his eyes shifting to Laswell. “You and I have some things to discuss.”

You follow behind him with Laswell as he leads you towards the building that served as the 141’s home base. He points out different places you might find yourself visiting. The gym, the rec area, the mess hall, and finally their barracks. He leads you down the hallway where their rooms were located, pointing out each door before he gets to yours, sandwiched between his own and Gaz’s, with Soap and Ghost on the other side.

He opens the door, letting you enter. He stays in the doorway, letting you explore the small space. Your bags had been brought in, the faint hint of the beta Corporal that had brought them in still lingering in the air. There’s four shirts folded neatly on the desk, one from each of them that they’d slept in for the last couple days to give you a chance to get used to their scents.

“The lads are still running a simulation, but they’ll be done within the hour.” He says, drawing your gaze from the bed. “We’ll let you get settled in and I’ll come get you when they’re ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say.

Laswell steps in as he steps away for a moment, letting the two of you say your goodbyes. You’d likely see Laswell again, and soon, but he knows after three months you’ll have bonded with her just a bit.

Price leads Laswell to his office after she leaves your room, his ears picking up the sound of the lock clicking into place as they walk away. He’d left it on for a reason, wanting to give you the ability to feel safe and secure as you adjusted, even though you had nothing to worry about.

“So.” Price says as he sits behind his desk, reclining back in his seat. “What can you really tell me about her?”

Laswell gives him a knowing look. “The CIA has had their eyes on her for years now. The Omega Initiative as it is now, isn’t how it started. They were going to train omegas as agents, and she was one of the first names on that list. They had FIOT put a hold on her file once she came of age.”

Federal Institute of Omega Training. The name was stamped on the front of your file. It was the highest rated institute in America, the place where most omegas born to politicians, government workers, and some military went.

“They had agents go in and pretend to be interested parties just to make it seem like there was interest in her.” Laswell continues. “But, you know omegas aren’t cut out for this kind of work, so they changed the Initiative. She was still at the top of the list, but there were some...hesitations as to where to place her.”

“What sort of hesitations?” He asks.

“You saw those scores, John. She’s a good omega. Those purebred instincts are strong, and that makes her an easy target.”

Most omegas born from an alpha/omega pairing were good at listening to their instincts. That was why they carried such a high standing, even among omegas. But, being so closely intune with their instincts made them more sensitive, more vulnerable. They were more likely to give in to an alpha, if the alpha knew how to play them right.

Laswell pulls a file from her bag, sliding it across his desk to him. “She’d get walked all over in a larger pack, and the last thing she needs is to get hurt by an overbearing alpha.” There’s something hidden in Laswell’s words, his mind filing that away for later. “I need someone I can trust with her. She’s smart, learns fast. She needs a challenge, but also someone that won’t take advantage of her.”

“It sounds like you’ve grown rather fond of her.” He says, flipping open the first page of the file. It’s the CIA’s data on her, everything they’d done in the last three months to prepare her for her life as a Special Operations pack omega.

“Like I said, I’m the one that picked her for your team.” Laswell leans forward against his desk. “She knows what she’s in for. She was well prepared for this kind of life. She’ll let you mark her, no questions asked because that’s what she’s been told to do. She’s obedient, John, almost to a fault.”

“That could be dangerous.” Price says.

“Yes, it could.” Laswell says. “I’m leaving her in your capable hands. She has my number, and so do you.”

Price walks her back to the airfield, his head reeling a bit as he replays their conversation over and over. The hidden messages in Laswell’s words aren’t lost on him, and his gut feeling that something else was going on had been correct.

“Take care of her, John.” Laswell says. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you.”

He hasn’t failed her yet.

Your body is tingling. You’re not sure if it’s nerves or something else. You haven’t been around an alpha since the day of your presentation, when you had been pulled from your home and taken to the institute. You had nearly wanted to keel over when you came face to face with Captain Price. Your alpha. He’s a commanding presence, the tickling at the back of your neck still not quite gone even though the door is shut and locked.

The bed is comfortable, not any worse than what you slept on in the institute. There’s extra pillows and blankets stacked at the end, likely for your nest when you finally settled enough to make one. The door to the private bathroom is cracked open, facing the end of the bed. There’s four shirts on the desk next under the window next to the bathroom door, and your bags are sitting in front of the dresser and closet situated on the opposite wall from the bed.

You push yourself to stand, ignoring the way your legs wobble as you stare down at the four shirts on the desk. They’re all olive green, folded neatly in the exact same way. You wouldn’t have known any different, except for the scents gently wafting from them, and the names on the tags.

Price. You pick up the one that will be the most familiar, bringing it to your nose. Tobacco smoke, aftershave, something sharp like whiskey. All things you had scented on him in your short time together. Underneath you catch a whiff of his natural scent. Something woody, fresh. A tingle crawls up your spine, prickling in the back of your neck again. You drop the shirt on the desk, taking a step back to breathe in the unscented air for a moment.

You’re breathing heavily as you go for the shirt next to Price’s. Garrick. You press the shirt against your nose, inhaling. Aftershave, different from Price’s. Some kind of lotion. Coconut oil maybe? You can’t pick up more than the base scent of beta, the soothing almondy scent.

You take another deep inhale of it, letting the beta scent ease you before you let it drop to the desk beside Price’s. You grab the one next to it, looking at the tag. MacTavish. You lift it to your face, scenting another aftershave. There’s something citrusy mixed in as well, slightly watered down compared to the scent of the aftershave. Again, you can’t pick up more than the scent of beta, letting it ease the tickling on the back of your neck again before you let it drop back on the desk.

One more to go.

You pick up the last shirt. Ghost. The faceless one. You bring the shirt to your nose, wincing slightly at the sharp tang of gunpowder and metal, smoke and a lingering aftershave. You try to smell deeper, but your nose burns with scent blocker spray. You let out a huff, dropping it back onto the desk.

This Ghost was dedicated to his anonymity.

He’s going to be a problem.

You sink back onto the bed, eyeing the shirts. Your senses have heightened, picking up the scents wafting off of them, mixing in the air. You pick up the sound of boots approaching, three pairs of feet making their way down the hall. You can hear them talking and laughing as they approach. There’s a pause outside your door and you hold your breath, sitting as still as possible.

Of course they can smell you. You had sprayed yourself down with scent blockers before you left the hotel, but it had likely worn off by now. Even with the blocker, the scent of unmated omega wasn’t hidden easily. The entire base had probably caught a whiff of your scent by now. Caramel, vanilla, strawberries with the undertone of pure omega that made alphas go insane.

“Coming, Si?”

Your lungs burn as you hold your breath, and for a moment you’re afraid your heartbeat might be audible from how hard it’s pounding. Steps recede from your door and you don’t breathe until they’ve disappeared.

You decide to unpack to keep your mind busy as you wait. You don’t have much, mostly clothes from the institute and toiletries. You don’t even have a photo of your family, that part of your life behind you. You put your clothes away, venturing into the small bathroom to put away your toiletries. There’s towels already inside, along with a few things like shampoo and soap. They’re all scentless, like the things you had brought from the institute.

Nothing that could dampen your natural scent.

You almost don’t hear the knock on the door, lost in your own thoughts. You take a steadying breath, hand hesitating over the lock. What if it wasn’t Price? What if it wasn’t anyone from your new pack?

“Just me.” Price’s voice comes through the door.

Of course he would notice your hesitation. He’s a trained soldier, he’s always going to be aware of his surroundings. You unlock the door, opening it slowly.

Price greets you with a small smile, your nose picking up the scent of his aftershave and the lingering scent of tobacco smoke now that you’re attune to it. “They’re ready, if you are.” He says.

You nod. “Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t like you had much of a choice to say no.

You slip out the door, closing it behind you. You’d ditched your sweatshirt, wearing a scoop-necked shirt to give them easy access for the scenting. Price leads you down the hallway, back towards his office. You’re not quite sure what to expect, the nervous twisting in your stomach coming back.

“I thought we’d do it in a meeting room.” Price says, likely picking up on the change in your scent. “Somewhere neutral.”

It’s smart, it’ll keep you from getting too overwhelmed by other scents or sounds. The last thing you need to do is panic and send them all into a spiral. Talk about a first impression.

Price pauses outside a door, looking down at you. His gaze is kind, almost sympathetic as you take a deep breath. “Ready?”

Not really, but you wouldn’t dare say that. You have to do this, and the sooner you got the awkward part over with, the easier things will get. You nod, hands tugging nervously at the bottom of your shirt. “Yes, sir.”

Price opens the door, stepping in first. You’re glad for the few moments you’re hidden behind him as the scents in the room slam into you. Alpha and two betas, scents you recognize from their shirts. They stand as Price enters, and for a moment you want to stay hidden behind the alpha but you know you have to be brave. You were made for this. The words drilled into your brain over and over again at the institute flash through your brain. You have one job in life and this is it.

You can hold power over them.

The words from the book your bunkmate had smuggled in flash through your mind. “The Powerful Omega”, it had been titled. Authored by a progressive omega, it talked all about how powerful omegas could be, even those forced into traditional roles. You can get them all wrapped around your finger if you wanted to.

You steady your nerves, clenching your hands into fists at your sides and step out from behind Price. Your skin prickles as three sets of eyes are set on you. Price is speaking but you’re not really listening as you take them in. You recognize the two betas from their files.

Gaz, you pick up Price doing introductions, has kind eyes. He’s tall for a beta, almost the same height as Price. He waves to you, offering you a small smile.

Soap is the shortest of the four, more what you would expect from a beta. “Good to meet ya, lass.” He greets you, giving you a charming smile. He’s going to push your boundaries, you can tell.

You’re beginning to see the dynamics already.

“And Ghost.” Price says, your eyes finally moving to the place you’ve been avoiding since you walked in.

All hulking muscle, Ghost seems to take up the entire room. Your heart flutters nervously as you meet his dark gaze, his face hidden by a balaclava with a skull painted on the front. His presence is oppressive, tickling the back of your neck. You’re not sure if you want to run or submit to him, every inch of him screaming alpha.

Price’s hand on your back nearly makes you jump, your gaze finally drawing away from Ghost and back to him. “Come on, take a seat. Tell us about yourself.”

Price sits at the head of the table, Ghost, Soap and Gaz to his left. You take the seat on the right, staring at the other three members of your pack. You jump into your spiel, things that they already knew if they’d read your file. There’s not much else to tell, since everything about you was in that file. That was its purpose, to make you look as appealing as possible to potential alphas and packs.

“What about your family?” Soap asks, the sharp scent of your nervous energy spiking for a moment. “Do you still talk to them?”

You shake your head. “Not for a few years. Institutes don’t really encourage keeping ties with previous packs, but I know there were a few omegas that did. It was hard to keep track of where my family was.”

“Your father was a Marine, correct?” Price, even though they already know the answer.

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

“You lived on base?” He asks.

You nod again. “Yes, sir. We moved a lot, but we lived in pack housing on every base. We were a family pack, and I was number four of eight by the time I presented.”

“When did you get sent to the Institute?” He asks, almost regretting answering it.

It’s a sore subject, he can tell by the change in your face and the slight souring of your scent. “The day after I presented.” You say.

The tension in the room is palpable, Soap and Gaz’s eyes widening in shock as Ghost's shoulders tense just slightly. Price stares at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. He knew it was likely shortly after, but that soon? Most would wait until the presentation had finished at least, and usually there was some downtime when it came to getting into an institute as well.

“My father was a traditionalist alpha.” You say, something they also knew by your status. It was printed all over your file, squeezed in every place it could be as a reminder of your worth to whomever was reading it. “It was because we were already on base that they got to me so fast.” You explain. “It was my dad’s status in the Marines that got me into FIOT.”

“What was it like, in the institute?” Gaz asks, wanting to change the subject a bit, if only to ease the sourness in your scent.

You huff out a laugh, the corner of your lips lifting in a smile. “Not unlike the military, I think. We had strict schedules we stuck to every day. Everything was dictated for us, what we wore, what we learned, what we did with our free time and how often we got it. Even what we ate was chosen for us. We always had to be ready to be tested at any time, and we were always being observed.”

“Your test scores were high.” Price remarks.

You shrug. “I’m a perfect omega, or so my instructors always said. It comes easily to me. I don’t really have to think much about it.”

“Did you really kneel for two hours straight?” Gaz asks.

You huff out a laugh. “Yeah. There was one day...it was a couple years ago. I don’t know what caused it but there was something in the air. We were all on edge and worked up. The director got tired of us and made us all kneel in the mess hall during our two hour afternoon break. No cushions, no pillows. Just all forty of us, kneeling on the marble floor for two hours. Not everyone could do it. Quite a few got too fidgety, couldn’t handle the pain. Three even passed out.”

“How did you manage it?” Gaz asks.

Price wasn’t a fan of using instinctual habits as punishment. It left a bad taste in his mouth, and he can only imagine what else you could say they forced you to do with such nonchalance.

“To be honest, I don’t remember most of it. I just let my mind go somewhere else and before I knew it the time was up.” You shrug.

“We won’t make you kneel for two hours.” Price says. “And definitely not without a pillow.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, sir.”

Price watches you, the way your eyes dart around the room again, the sour edge of your scent gone, but the tang of anxiety remains. You’ve relaxed some, though, your shoulders are not quite so tense and you’ve stopped picking at your nails.

Ghost has remained silent the entire time you’ve spoken, eyes glued on you. You’ve tried not to look at him, finding your words get stuck in your throat whenever you meet his gaze.

He’s going to be a problem.

“There’s some rules we need to go over before anything else.” Price says. “You have freedom to roam this building as you please, but one of us will escort you if you need to go elsewhere at least until you’ve been marked. There’s other alphas on this base and I don’t want them getting any ideas.”

You knew well enough omegas frequented the barracks on bases often. You don’t want to be mistaken as one. Even with their scents on you, you know that won’t stop some. You’re not even sure a mark will stop them either.

“I want full transparency. If something happens you come to me, or you call Kate if we’re gone. If you need anything too, the same order stands.” You’re beginning to detect the edge to his voice, The Captain slipping through his more casual demeanor. “We have some downtime to adjust for now, but sometimes we may leave for weeks at a time. It will be rough, I won’t lie to you, but Kate pulled some strings and there’s an Omega Specialist that’s been brought in for you. You’ll meet her later, I’m sure she wants to do a full workup.”

You’ve met many Omega Specialists in your time. The beta medical professionals that go through specialized training so they can assist and treat omegas better than regular doctors and medics. Most of them go through a residency at Institutes, studying and practicing on young omegas. The thought of having at least someone who might understand you on a deeper level is comforting.

“I’m starving, let’s get the scenting over with.” Soap nearly whines, rubbing his stomach.

His words strike a chord of nervous energy in you again. You had been prepared many times for the scenting. You’d seen instructional videos and done mock practices with your fellow omegas. Yet you feel like it’s not going to be enough. These were real alphas and betas, your pack. What if you don’t like the way they smell?

What if they don’t like the way you smell?

“If you’re alright with it?” Price says, looking at you.

You’re taken aback by the offer for consent. You weren’t expecting it, as this was something you have to do. What would happen if you said no? Would they respect your boundaries? The fact you had been asked at all is shocking to you. You won’t say no, because you’ll have to do it eventually, and at least this way you’ll be walking around smelling like them. If nothing else, it might make this transition a bit easier.

“Yeah.” You nod, swallowing down your nerves. “I’m okay with it.”

All five of you stand from the table, your stomach churning with nervous energy. You try to clear your head, try to calm yourself so you don’t stink them out with your anxiety. You need your scent to be clear, to be as tantalizing as possible.

“Don’t look so worried, lass.” Soap says as they gather around you. “We won’t bite.” He winks at you playfully.

Your cheeks warm as Price steps up to you. He is right, that would come later. Likely during your first heat when Price would give you his mark and claim you as his. It wasn’t unusual for packs with multiple alphas to let more than one claim an omega, but judging from what you’ve seen of Ghost, you’re not sure that’s going to happen.

He had a right to claim you too, but from the look of it, he was the least excited about your joining their pack.

You tense as Price’s hands settle on your waist, lifting you up so you’re seated on the edge of the table, putting you closer to being eye-to-eye with them. They’re all so big, the natural consequence of genetics and their jobs.

“Ready?”

You turn to look up at Price, close enough you can see the freckles on his nose and the grey in his blue eyes. You nod, pressing your hands into the table as you bare your neck for him. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as he leans in closer, pressing his face against your neck. His beard tickles your skin as he rubs his face against your scent gland, warm breaths fanning against your skin.

He pulls away just slightly, baring his own neck to you. You press forward, gripping the edge of the table as you press your face against his throat. You catch the scents you had picked up on his shirt in your room, the surface level scents that were environmental. You close your eyes, inhaling deeper. Woody. Pine? Spruce? It reminds you of a candle your mother used to burn. There’s another scent, the one that lingers. Petrichor, you think, rubbing your face against his scent gland.

His hand on your side pulls you back from your scent-induced haze, and you force yourself back from him. You take deep breaths of the sterile air in the meeting room, picking up his scent more clearly now as it mixes with the others.

“Good girl.” He says, squeezing your side gently. Something flutters in your stomach at his praise, some deep primal part of your brain preening at the thought of making your alpha proud. “Ghost.” He says, stepping back from you.

You’re snapped back into reality as the hulking alpha steps up towards you, moving almost silently. You try to keep yourself calm as he stalks towards you, his sharp gaze burning into yours.

He’s testing you.

You won’t satisfy him, holding his gaze as he reaches you, his thighs pressing against your knees. One hand comes to rest next to your hip on the table, his body leaning in towards you. You’re enveloped by the black fabric of his sweatshirt as his other hand reaches up to tug his balaclava up. Stubble tickles your skin as he presses his face against your throat, breathing in deeply. He lets out a quiet sound as he scents you, almost akin to a growl.

He shifts his weight, pressing his uncovered scent gland against your face. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply. Gunpowder and metal stings your nose again, along with the scent of his body wash. You press deeper into his throat, seeking out his natural scent. Something deep and musky washes over you, like suede or leather. There’s something fresh in there too, almost like eucalyptus. You press your face closer, inhaling it deeply. Your head spins, and you’re sure your knees would have given out if you hadn’t been sitting.

Something rumbles in Ghost's chest as you scent him in a daze. While all alphas’ scents carried a natural musk, Ghosts seems to shoot directly to some deep part of your brain even Price’s scent hadn’t reached.

You let out a quiet whine as he’s pulled from you, his mask back in place by the time you pry your eyes open. Ghost is leaning back against the wall, eyes back to their icy stare as he watches you. Your head is still spinning as someone steps up next to you, taking Ghost’s place.

“How ya doing?” Gaz asks, eyes assessing you. “Hanging in there?”

You nod, taking a couple deep breaths to try and clear your head.

“You’re halfway there.” He says, leaning in closer. “Got through the hard part.”

His breath fans your neck as he leans in, the familiar scent of beta flooding your senses. He was likely doing it on purpose, trying to calm you after the intensity of being scented by two alphas. You breathe in the almondy scent, relaxing into him as he scents you. Your hands raise, gripping his shoulders as he presses his neck close to your face. You seek out the source of the calming scent, pressing your nose into his scent gland.

You’re drawn from the room and to the time your family took a trip to the beach when your father was stationed in North Carolina. Salty sea air, briney and clean, and something else, something soft. Like the clean linen scented spray your mother used on the laundry. You’re clinging to him, his arms around you as you relax into his scent. The tingling energy that had begun to build up at the proximity to the alphas fades as you melt into the calming energy of the beta in front of you.

“Easy.” He says, his hand on the back of your head as he pulls you away from him. You take a deep breath, trying to clear your head. “Still with us?” He asks, meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.” You say, sounding breathless. You knew scenting could be intense, but you hadn’t expected it to feel quite like this.

“Almost done, hen.” Soap says, taking Gaz’s place in front of you. “Lucky there’s only four of us.”

He’s right, you think as you bear your throat for him. You’re not sure you could have handled it had there been more of them. You already feel like you’re floating, enveloped in so many scents you’re not sure what to do. That tingling has begun at the back of your neck as Soap scents you, your eyes meeting Ghost’s. The look in them has changed, his body poised like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

Soap pulls back, blocking your view of him as he bears his throat to you. You press your face into his neck, pushing past the scents you knew, and that beta scent, looking for him.

You inhale deeply, the scent of warm spices invading your nose. It smells like the holidays, cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger enveloping you. You can almost taste the apple pie, see the gingerbread houses. You cling to his shirt, holding him against you as you rub your face against his throat.

You’re trembling just slightly as Soap withdraws from your hold. It’s subtle, but to them, highly aware soldiers, it’s likely clear as day. Your skin is buzzing, like the fluorescent lights above you. You can hear it now, the buzz of electricity. Your pupils are blown, the room suddenly clearer and sharper.

“There she is.” The low grumble of Price’s voice begins to pull you from your heightened state, your eyes turning to him as his hand cups your cheek.

You press into the rough palm of his hand, eyes picking up the grey in his beard and hair as he stands in front of you. He’s older than you, they’re all older than you. Older than you, bigger than you, stronger than you. A small tickle of fear begins to itch in the back of your mind, drawing you from your daze.

You’re vulnerable, entirely vulnerable and incapable of defending yourself against them. Forgetting second genders, they’re all much stronger than you, not to mention trained fighters. You’d be fucked if they decided to try anything, if they wanted to do anything. You’d be entirely helpless against them.

They could if they wanted to.

It would be well within their rights. Even though you had just met, even though you bore no claiming mark, there was nothing stopping them. You couldn’t stop them, and no one would help you.

“You hungry, pup?”

Price’s voice cuts through your fearful daze. There’s a slight furrow to his brow, likely picking up the sharp edge seeping into your scent. Omega fear and distress was the one defense nature gave to your kind, aside from the omega itself. It’s a putrid scent meant to ward off alphas and betas. You’ve heard it described as smelling like sulfur, burning coals, gasoline, melting plastic, and sometimes even the ozonic scent that accompanied alphas in a true rage. It was a warning, but it doesn't always work.

Pup. Price called you Pup.

You haven’t been called “pup” since you were a pup. It’s a commonly used nickname for any status. You remember your father calling your older brothers pup, even after they presented. It could be derogatory, but it’s more commonly used affectionately. He’s trying to ease your discomfort, the fear welling up inside you.

The door is open, the fresh air of the hallway watering down the heavy mix of scents that had become trapped in the room. Soap and Gaz have already stepped out, Ghosts hulking figure blocking the doorway for a moment as he follows them, leaving you alone with Price for a moment.

“Alright?” Price asks as your gaze meets his again.

You nod, still leaning into his touch. “Yeah, ‘s a lot.”

“I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek, a knowing glint in his eyes. He leans in closer, lowering his voice. “Don’t tell him I told you this, but Soap nearly passed out when we scented him.”

You cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. It wasn’t unusual for scentings to become so intense that the receiver passes out. You’re sure if there had been more than four in your new pack you would have passed out.

“Come on.” He says, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift you off the table and onto unsteady legs. He doesn’t even grunt with the effort, moving you easily. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s not entirely one of fear.

His hand is warm on your back as he leads you out of the room, the clean air in the hallway clearing your head further. Most bases have circulating air systems, constantly filtering out scents to keep things as neutral as possible. They’re less effective in smaller areas though, especially after scents were intentionally projected. Most military members wore scent blockers, at least while performing their duties. You remember your father coming home at the end of the day with the dull burn of scent blocker still on his clothes.

Your head is still spinning a bit as you follow them out of the barracks and towards the mess hall. They seem to almost walk in a formation, though you suppose with years of having it drilled in your head, it’s almost second nature. You’re sandwiched between Soap and Gaz in the middle, Price in front and Ghost bringing up the rear.

The other personnel on the base give your group a wide berth, and even in the mess you can feel the glances, but none of the stares linger. Price guides you next to him as you get your food, adding things to your tray for you. That tickling feeling starts again at the back of your neck as he makes your plate, your omega preening happily at the knowledge of what he’s doing.

He’s proving his ability as a provider.

In more primordial times he might have gone out and hunted for food to bring back to you to prove his capabilities. Even in more modern times, he might have hunted as some alphas still did, or he would have gone to the store to keep the fridge stocked full of food. Alphas are good at adapting to their surroundings and situations. He’s proving his capabilities in the way he can.

You’re also silently grateful to not have to think too hard about the choices in front of you. Even after a week, British food is still a bit unfamiliar to you. It’s not entirely indiscernible, though, and you’re sure you could pick out things that sounded good if you had to. At this moment, though, with your head still reeling a bit and the unsettling energy of a new place filled with unknown alphas and betas, you’re happy to let Price do it for you.

He carries your tray and his to a table, sitting you next to him. Gaz takes your other side, Soap and Ghost sitting across from you. The choices in their seating arrangement don’t feel quite so random to you, and you quickly realize the arrangement is similar to the room setup in the barracks.

A beta for each alpha, you think. Gaz and Price. Soap and Ghost.

Then there’s you, stuck somewhere in the middle of them. Somehow you’ll fit between them, squeezing into their perfect dynamic. Omegas are supposed to help balance packs, but as you sit with the four members of your new pack, you can’t help but feel like you’re only going to make things more difficult.

I'm willing to put together a taglist if people are interested...

#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #a/b/o

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kleftiko · 7 months

Text

❦ CAN’T GIVE IT TO ME

“your best friend has always been the person you turn to when times are tough. so when your shitty husband refuses to give you a baby, what else are you supposed to do?”

cw: infidelity, unprotected sex, cream pie, breeding kink, pussy eating, squirting

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

It was never a surprise when you made a stupid decision.

Sometimes, people thought you were purposely being an airhead, not paying attention, or being reckless in your life because Satoru was always there to fix things for you. It didn't stop him from letting you know his thoughts on your actions, but he was always there when you called.

When you married your husband, Satoru told you he didn't like him. Didn't think you married for a good reason, either.

Did you love your husband? Maybe. Maybe not. But you liked the freedom he gave you—credit cards and a house to yourself most days—while he was constantly away on business trips. You could spend your days spoiling your girlfriends on a shopping spree and your nights in expensive clubs.

You don't know when you began feeling lonely and bored, though. But one day, you started noticing mothers with their kids. playing in the park, shopping at the grocery store, and taking photos on vacation, and you began to think that maybe you wanted something else in life besides waking up hungover to an empty bed.

So when your husband got home that evening, tired and immediately pouring himself a drink, you proposed the idea. The look he gave you said it all, but he still told you no. He was a busy man; he didn't have time for a family, and you should know that.

It's not like he ever fucked you anyway; for most of your marriage, your orgasms and libido were taken care of by vibrators, dildos, and your best friend.

Which is why when your husband left the next day, you called over Satoru.

He never had to try to look good, showing up with a plain shirt, sweatpants, and those signature glasses. You, on the other hand, changed three times before he arrived, not being able to decide which outfit was going to help you get what you wanted. The formal dress was too much for daytime, the skirt was a bit too juvenile, and eventually you just decided on shorts and a tank top, loungewear that to anyone else would look like you were just having a day in, but the way the short fabric loosely covered your ass told a different story.

Satoru accepted the glass of red wine you offered when he walked in the door and took a seat at the kitchen table, spreading his legs casually as he took a sip.

"I want a baby." You told him straight up.

Satoru smiled as he looked at you over his glasses and said, "Nice. Congrats."

"With you," you clarified. He raised an eyebrow.

"Seems like something you should ask your husband," he said, nimble fingers playing with the neck of his wine. "I'm just here for the drinks."

You pouted, taking a seat in the chair beside him.

"Please, 'Toru?" you asked.

His eyes drifted down to your fingers as they trailed lightly over his thigh, knowing exactly what you were trying to do.

"And why would I help you?" He smiled lazily.

You got up and straddled his lap, setting down his glass of wine in favour of moving his arms around your body.

"You've helped me before." You whisper, and he nods casually, as if that was a good point.

You couldn't count the number of times Satoru let you use his fingers or sit on his face when you were needy. Or how many times you repaid him with your lips around his dick or riding his thigh. But no matter how many times he made you cum, he never gave in to your pleas to stretch your pussy on his thick cock. He refused to, as long as you were married. Was it right? Probably not, but Satoru had his rules.

And you've never minded the mind-numbing pleasure he would give you with his hands and mouth until now. Because now, what you wanted required something else of his that was previously off limits.

"I've helped you a lot of times, sweetheart." He sighed in defeat. "And you always ask for more."

You were confused, not understanding the meaning of his words until his fingers slid between your legs. With a soft gasp, you instinctively start grinding yourself onto his palm, forgetting what he was saying.

"I'm at your beck and call when you need my fingers or tongue," he said, letting you continue your ministrations. "And now you're asking me to fill your cunt and expect me to be okay with our kid calling your husband 'dad'?"

With a harsh press to your clit, you freeze, and a small whine escapes from your lips.

"You think that's fair, sweetheart?" He asked, eyeing you with contempt.

But instead of answering, you try to move your hips against his hand again for friction, only to get a harsh pinch to your thigh.

You yelped, but answered him. "No, it's not."

He seemed happy with your response and said, "What's in it for me?"

You furrowed your brows. In all the years you've known Satoru, he had never asked for anything in return; he always gives, gives, gives. There honestly wasn't any answer you could come up with. But when his long fingers started circling your heat again, making you melt, you asked.

"What do you want, 'Toru?"

He grinned at how easy you were and let you rest your head on his shoulder in response to his fingers. "Say you'll leave your husband, and I'll fill you up as much as you want."

You whined in response, but with your body rocking against his, breathing in his cologne, and hearing his husky voice in your ears, it didn't seem like a bad idea. So you nodded, light gasps dusting over his neck as you breathed out, "Okay."

Satoru's strong hands then left your pussy, but you didn't have a chance to complain when he grabbed the back of your thighs and stood up. When your head leaned back to look at him, you saw a dangerous look in his eyes.

"Good girl." His voice was low as he said, "Let's make you a mommy."

With that, he dropped you onto the table, the wine glasses shaking beside you as a result. Satoru dropped to his knees between your spread legs and reached for your shorts. Already wet with your slick, they stuck to your heat slightly as he slid them off, and you hissed at the feeling of the cool kitchen air against your pussy.

His breath grazed your thigh as he licked a harsh strip up your slit. Your body trembled as his tongue traced its way up, sending shivers of anticipation through your entire being. The dangerous look in his eyes intensified, fueling your desire for him. You couldn't help but arch your back, offering yourself fully to his skilled touch. As his tongue continued its tantalizing journey, your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his movements. The intensity of him led you to grasp at his soft silver hair in an attempt to ground yourself, but he smacked your hand away.

"You're gonna feel everything I give you." His sunglasses were discarded, so you saw every emotion in his darkened eyes. "And you're gonna take it."

After you nodded quickly, Satoru wrapped his arms around your thighs, locking your cunt against his tongue as he devoured you. His careful mouth probed every inch of your sensitive folds, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The way he smoothly flicked and sucked on your clit had you on the edge of ecstasy, unable to control the moans that escaped your lips. As his tongue delved deeper, you surrendered completely to the overwhelming sensations, losing yourself in the intoxicating bliss he was giving you.

In an attempt to warn him, you could only stutter out an, "g-g'nna."

But Satoru seemed to understand as his lips attached themselves to your bud, and one of his arms freed your legs so he could thrust his fingers inside your sloppy cunt. The combination of his skilled tongue and the added penetration sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust of his fingers matched the rhythm of his tongue, intensifying the pleasure and pushing you closer to the edge. As you reached the peak of ecstasy, your body convulsed uncontrollably, overwhelmed by the mind-blowing sensations he was delivering. You briefly understood your legs spamming as you painted Satoru's mouth with your cum.

It took a moment for you to calm down, your eyes opening to look at the ceiling as you realized your back was on the table. Unable to remember when you had laid down, let alone move your body on your own, Satoru pulled you to stand on your jelly legs.

His eyes held your gaze as he wiped his face and licked his lips clear of your cum. Before you could say anything, he gripped your hips, his wet hands sending shivers up your hot skin as he turned you around and pushed your stomach onto the table.

You looked over your shoulder at your best friend; his head was tilted back, eyes closed as he hissed in pleasure, the hand covered in your slick stroking his hard cock. The reminder of the fact that his dick was finally going to be inside you made you whine and wiggle your hips to gain his attention again.

Satoru looked down at you with a smile.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm right here." He lined himself up with your hole. "I'll fuck a baby into you," he whispered before slowly pushing himself inside you.

The sensation of him filling you up sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making you moan and bend your back in response.

"T-'Toru..." You drawled, unable to think of anything else, as he stretched you open.

"That's it, baby, remember who's gonna breed this cunt for you." He hissed.

Your mind became consumed with the overwhelming pleasure as Satoru continued to thrust deeper into you. Every movement he made intensified the sensations, leaving you completely lost in the moment. The sounds of his grunts harmonizing with skin slapping against skin filled the room, adding to the urgency of the experience.

Your eyes locked on one of the wine glasses beside you. The table rocking with Satoru's harsh thrusts caused the silverware to fall over, staining the beautiful tablecloth beneath your face. You don't know why, but the physical reminder of how hard Satoru was going inside you made you moan. The combination of the sensory overload and the unexpected disruption heightened the raw passion between you and Satoru. As your moans echoed in the room, you realized that every element of this encounter was pushing you both towards an adrenaline-filled climax.

"Sa-Satoru—please!" You babbled incoherently as he slapped against you, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.

"Fuck!" He groaned. "You're gonna look so hot pregnant with my baby."

Your pleas only fueled Satoru's desire, intensifying his thrusts as he whispered dirty promises about knocking you up in your ear. The intense connection between you both grew, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy. With each moment, it became clear that this intimate encounter would forever be etched in not only your memory but also your life. And it turned you on so much more.

"You gonna great your husband today with your pussy filled with my cum?" You whined at his dirty talk. "S'it gonna drip down your legs when you tell him it's over?"

You don't know why, but the reminder of the fact that Satoru wasn't your husband was what did it for you. You came to the realization that it wasn't your husband fucking a baby into you, but your best friend. This forbidden affair intensified the pleasure and excitement coursing through your veins, causing you to clench impossibly tighter around Satoru's cock.

He groaned loudly at that, folding his body over yours as he reached his own orgasm.

"You're all mine now, sweetheart." He whispered into your ear as his cum shot into your cunt, filling you up better than you could've hoped for. The intensity of the moment left you breathless as you lay there, sweat clinging to your forehead as the scent of wine and sex filled your senses. You whimpered pathetically when Satoru slipped out of you and crouched down to watch the globs of his cum drip out of your pussy with each clench around nothing. Your trembling legs couldn't stop him when he scooped up the slick and pushed it back into you with a dissatisfied hum.

"Don't think it stuck, sweetheart." He sighed. "Might need to fill you again."

#kleftiko’s kinktober #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader

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fuckaperioddrama · 1 month

Text

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Author’s Notes: Kinda realistic, but you have to be a little delulu with the Slytherin boys. FIRST POST!

Proofread, but there's probably still mistakes.

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Blaise Zabini Headcanons

Tom Riddle Headcanons

Masterlist

Minors DNI | 18+

___

Theodore Nott | Physique

6’5 - 6'6 | Sorry, he’s just super tall in my head. I'm a tall girl so let me have this.

Lean, but lanky? He's in the in-between stage.

He doesn’t have a lot of muscle, but you can still see muscle?

He's a little insecure about his body, especially since Mattheo and Lorenzo are more on the buff side.

Would never go to the gym though, he only works out during Quidditch.

Resting bitch face, but I feel like this is established.

HOT AS FUCK! HOT! I MEAN HOT AS FUCK! | Shameless Theo girl. SHAMELESS! |

Theodore Nott | Personality

He’s an asshole, but he’s funny. He’s more on the quiet side, but once in a while, he’ll say something witty that’ll make everyone in the room laugh.

Don’t get into an argument with him. He has a comeback for everything. It’s actually really fucking annoying.

So blunt. He won’t share his opinion unless asked or if it’s important to him but don’t ask him unless you want the complete and total truth.

Plays the piano and guitar.

He loves books. He reads a lot of romance, but he would never share that with anyone.

He’s very smart. He studies a little here and there, but mostly he just understands everything naturally. He doesn’t even really have to pay attention that much in class. Something else that’s really fucking annoying.

I feel like he's not amazing at DADA. He's not bad at it, but he gets in his head sometimes and will mess up.

He’s a homebody, but he’ll go out to parties every once in a while. Mainly to hang out with his boys and keep up appearances.

He’s prideful. He comes from a good family and he likes to make his presence known.

A chaser in Quidditch and is ALWAYS showing off. It pisses Draco off so much.

He smokes, but not a ton. I’d say a pack every 2-3 days.

Smokes weed though. He’s not reckless with it, but if he’s at a party or relaxing without shit to do? He’s lighting up.

Eats SO MUCH. Especially when he's high. He is always in the mood for food.

Theodore Nott | Casenova

He does have a lot of sex, but it’s usually one woman for a couple of weeks. He doesn’t talk to her outside of their meetups and will (and has) embarrassed a couple of women who even thought it was okay to approach him.

He’s an ASSHOLE!

The reason why these women keep crawling back? Theodore Nott fucks you like he loves you. He’s so attentive.

A MUNCH! Theodore Nott is a munch, through and through. He's so good at it too.

It's because he speaks Italian. Anyone who speaks the tongue of romance also speaks the tongue of absolutely devouring some pussy. I know that's not true for all, but let me DREAM!

He's also skilled with his fingers. | Piano and guitar player. Duh. |

As previously mentioned, this man is prideful. He will spend hours on a woman pulling out every sound, causing every jolt, and basking in the way they scream his name because it feeds his ego.

He's not doing all of that because he cares, he just likes knowing he's good at what he does. And he is good.

He’s a dom, and he is ROUGH, but he talks them through it the whole time. SO MUCH PRAISE!

This pussy is mine, toria. All fucking mine. There isn't a single man on this Earth who deserves to feel you like this.

I know, baby. Just cum on my cock one more time. That's all I need. Let me feel you just one more time.

Fuck, bella, you make me feel so good.

He'll have them thinking their vag was crafted by Aphrodite herself, meanwhile he's pulling these lines on every woman he fucks.

And when he starts speaking Italian? These women EAT IT UP!

I might be a strong woman, but I'd let this man use me too.

They eat him up too. Not just figuratively. It's become a guessing game for the boys trying to figure out who his hickey came from.

Theo isn't one to kiss and tell. He just smirks and lays his head back, exposing his hickey covered neck as his friends keep asking questions they'll never get the answers to.

And after sex? He’s the perfect, sweet lover. So time after time these women come crawling back despite how he treats them in public and he uses them over and over again.

Then he gets bored, he moves on to the next woman, and the cycle repeats.

Theodore Nott | Friend

Closest to Mattheo and Blaise

Talks a lot more around his friends. Jokes left and right.

Always doing some dumb shit. Pranks with Mattheo? His favorite pastime.

He likes going out with his boys, being reckless, blowing his money, and just being young.

He loves his friends because they remind him what it’s like to be free.

He’d never admit it to any of them, but meeting them was one of the best things that ever happened to him.

His friends (Aka Draco and Lorenzo) are bullies, but he couldn’t be bothered with that. He’s more of a fuck around a find out type of guy.

Yes, I believe Lorenzo Berkshire is an asshole. Please don’t come for me. Or do.

He takes care of his friends silently. He won’t ask them how their day is, but he’ll show up with their favorite things whenever he notices them feeling bad.

Very attentive. He is very in tune with the needs of the group.

Theodore Nott | Boyfriend

UGH, I LOVE THIS PART

He is used to being an asshole toward women so he’s not sure how to navigate his first relationship

Gift Giving and Acts of Service

He doesn’t know how to properly express his feelings so he just buys you shit and does stuff for you

PRINCESS TREATMENT

I’m talking back rubs, foot rubs, | If you want that. I know some people have a feet thing. | putting on your shoes, zipping up your dress, washing you in the shower or bath, doing your hair, carrying you when your feet hurt. Something broke? He’ll fix it. You need something? Baby, I’ve got it.

He serves you first in the great hall. He puts your food on your plate first and makes sure you have all of your favorites. He likes to give you food. He likes to eat so he likes it when you eat.

Buys you flowers. He always keeps a flower from the arrangement so he can tell when yours is about to die.

Dates 2-3 times a month.

Always buying you gifts. He will FORCE you to take them. Why should I not spoil you?

He can be a little misogynistic when it comes to taking care of you.

He's more of a feminist. He doesn't give a shit and thinks women can do whatever they want. However, some gender roles are just ingrained in him.

Do not try to pay for dinner. Don't try to pay for anything while you're out with him. Do you want these people to think I can't take care of my girl?

Will not let you carry anything heavy. In private he might let you get away with it if you argue, but not in public. He's a man and it's his job to act like the man. | I don't mind men like this too much. Like I'm an independent woman, but I'm also a damsel in distress. Please do everything for me.

Anything his baby wants his baby gets. He has a big protector/provider mindset. He will do anything for you because you’re precious and you shouldn’t have to do anything yourself.

Teddy, I’ve got it.

I know, cara mia, but let me do it.

His hands are always on you. Physical Touch.

When you first start dating it’s subtle. Hand on your back, hands grazing in the hallways.

He can be a little possessive. Or a lot.

He used to fuck the girlfriends of the guys he didn’t like so he doesn’t like when guys come around you. He keeps you close as a way to claim you.

Toxic

When he gets more comfortable around you it’s a hand on your waist, arm around your shoulder, occasionally smacking your ass.

He’s a thigh guy, but he appreciates everything. Boobs, butt, thighs, neck, arm, whatever. The female body is beautiful and he loves every inch.

Greets you in the hallways by putting his arms around you from behind.

Neck. Kisses. Always kissing your neck. Licking your neck. Biting your neck.

Kisses you like it’s the last time he’ll ever see you. Sometimes it looks like he's swallowing you, your friends think it's kinda gross.

Walks you to each and every class and makes out with you before them

He just loves to spend time with you.

Quality Time

As I mentioned before, he’s a homebody. He loves just staying in with you. After your last class, he always goes to your dorm or you go to his. Study together. Astronomy Tower dates.

He follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s so lover-boy-coded.

He didn’t pay attention to the girls before you, but he has no problem giving you his full attention whenever and wherever you need it. Call him a simp? He doesn’t care. That’s his girl.

He can be a little controlling sometimes. He likes to know where you are, and who you’re with.

He walks you everywhere. You’re meeting up with your friends after he spent two hours railing you against a wall? He’s walking you the whole way, he can't miss a second of you.

And afterward, he always gives you a kiss and a hug goodbye. I’ll miss you, amore. Like you two won’t see each other in a couple of hours. Then he'll keep pulling you closer to him every time you try to break free because he needs just one more kiss.

He’ll always make you late. Sometimes it's because he is smothering you in kisses. Other times, he spends a good ten minutes holding you and telling you how much he loves you. Words of Affirmation.

Once Theodore Nott is fully and completely comfortable in his love with you he will NOT shut up. He can be so cheesy too, he comes up with the most eye-roll-inducing stuff.

I know I won't make it to heaven, but at least I was given a taste before I go.

I think someone might have stolen the stars and put them in your eyes.

Then there's the unhinged cheesy ones.

Why should I waste time studying herbs with the power to heal wounds when the only healing power I need is right in between your legs?

Are you the witch who lost her broom? I couldn't find it, but I have something else long and hard that you can ride. I've heard it can last all. night. long.

ON AND ON. HE WON'T STOP.

Then of course you have his more serious declarations of love. Usually when you're sleeping because whenever he tries to say this stuff when you're awake he feels like his heart is about to backflip into his ass.

When I look at your face, I feel as if the sun finally rises. My world fades from dark to light and in that moment; and only in that moment, I find happiness. I am not a good man, I don't know what I did in life to deserve you but I promise to spend every second making sure I'm worthy of keeping you.

| Alright, that was a little cute. Maybe a little too cheesy, let’s move on. |

Theodore Not | Committed Lover

Tongue shoved in between your legs 24/7. On his knees in the closet, with you above him sitting on a desk, laying down between your legs, you sitting on his face. Anytime, anywhere he is tasting you like it’s the last thing he ever could do.

He is so good with his fingers. | Once again guys, he plays piano and guitar. | Fast fingers working you open every chance he gets.

Seriously every chance he gets.

He loves fingering you in the middle of class, by the lake, in the hallways, and anywhere in public. | With your consent of course.

I SAID IT ONCE AND ILL SAY IT AGAIN! ROUGH!

He loves doggy. Having you bent over while he smacks your ass raw and dicks you down like a fucking animal.

I mean leg up, holding you back by the ties around your wrist while he thrust his huge ass cock | At least 8 inches and THICK | into your SOAKED and achy cunt because you know he took his TIME getting you ready.

Literal hours sucking on your clit while he fucked you with his nicely long and thick fingers

Now he’s pounding into you at an unthinkable speed while you’re screaming, tears running down your face, and mind going blank as he fucks you dumb.

He lets you ride him sometimes. He loves seeing you on top, but he still never fully gives you control. He keeps his hands firm on your waist or ass and you can never get away with teasing him for long before he holds you in place and fucks into you like a man possessed.

He likes the soft stuff too.

Hands holding onto your hips as he grinds his cock into your pussy.

Head stuffed into your neck as he continuously moans. I could stay here forever. You’re all I need.

___

A/N: Overall, Theo is a toxic asshole but it’s okay because he magically becomes the perfect gentleman (not really) when we start dating him.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

Note

Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics �� hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.

So that left you here.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter.

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.

You frown.

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

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reiderwriter · 13 days

Note

Hello!I hope you are having a great day!I love LOVE your writing and I would like to request a fanfiction where the reader is Hotch's daughter who works at the bau and is in a secret relationship with spencer without her dad knowing.Spencer wants to tell the team but she is scared about how they'll react so they fight but during a case she gets kidnapped and the feelings are high,so spencer accidentally reveals the relationship.I would love if it ended in smut (possibly dom!spencer who is angry at her for being so reckless and risking her life like that) and maybe a lot of angst??Hotch could potentially be fuming but when they get her back he decides that he will let them be??I would like my emoji to be 🌼!Thank you in advance and if you write this I would absolutely LOVE to read it!🤍🤍

A/N: I love writing for a Hotchner Reader because the Hotch/Spencer parallels are so 😙👌 This was so fun to write!

Warnings: Smut/ Angst with a happy ending, Semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, case details, kidnapping, abuse, strangulation, mentions of child death/ allusions towards pedophilia etc, Hotch is a somewhat shitty/overprotective dad/boss.

Masterlist!

Falling back into a hotel bed that wasn't yours, you wrapped your legs around Spencer Reid as he furiously worked open the buttons of your shirt, his lips locked with yours in a furious exchange.

“Spencer, Spencer, we can't-” You moaned as his lips fell down to your ear, a small tap to your thigh signalling that he wanted tour legs spread for him. Despite your vocal protests, you complied.

“Need to feel you,” he groaned, nipping and sucking his way down your chest as his big hands began pushing your skirt up and your panties down.

“Spencer, someone will hear.”

“I don't care who hears,” he whispered, finally ridding you of the last piece of material covering your wet sex. “I just want to make you feel good.”

His lips fell to your cunt, falling on your cunt as he began his ministrations. You loved this, the feeling of him near, his lips on you, his tongue teasing out whimper, then moan, then a scream of his name as you came undone on his lips. But that wasn't a chance you could take today.

“He's in the next room, Spencer. Fuck, he's going to hear us.”

You wouldn't push him off, enjoying too much the feeling of your building pleasure, so appealing to your boyfriend to do the right thing was your last resort as your hips bucked into his face, chasing your orgasm.

He didn't stop, but held your hips down, thrusting his tongue in and out of you as his fingers came up to tease your clit.

“Spencer, fuck-” you slapped a hand over your mouth as you shuddered below him, finally reaching your climax.

Your hands fell limp as he worked you through the end of your orgasm before rising up to lay beside you on the bed.

“I wish you wouldn't push it, Spencer. You're a dead man if he catches us like this.”

“Hotch won't kill me just because I'm dating his daughter. I don't understand why you don't want to tell people.”

You ran your hands through your hair in frustration. It was a conversation you'd been back and forward on a lot in the past six months.

Dating a coworker was tricky, doubly so when your coworker’s boss - and your boss - was your overprotective father. Things only became more complicated when you factored in a ten year age gap and the fact that your father refused to view you as an adult, even when you were a fully qualified member of his own team.

You'd had to fight for acceptance into the FBI and go above him to get the job on his team, a decision that he still berated you for to this day. But you'd had enough of him shielding you from reality, and it was a step you needed to take.

Falling in love with Spencer Reid, though, that was just pure bad luck.

You weren't sure how it had taken you until joining the team to meet the man, but you sure were glad he hadn't been introduced earlier. You'd joined the team at 24, having been in grad school until your FBI Academy application was approved, and somehow in the 10 years before that Spencer had worked under your father, you'd never crossed paths.

Of course, you knew who he was before that from context and conversations with your father, and of course, he figured out who you were quickly based on the many arguments you'd had in Hotch’s office. But that hadn't stopped you from repeatedly falling into his bed month after month, and then falling in love with him.

Your relationship was more than the sex, but it was also a lot of sex. From the stories you'd heard, and from the look of him, you'd assumed that Spencer was a delicate little flower, an innocent in the bedroom as much as any 34 year old man could be.

And then you'd both been offered spiked drinks at a holiday party courtesy of Penelope Garcia, and he'd proved you deliriously wrong. He'd been hooked from then on, and after waking up awkwardly in his bed the next morning to two cups of coffee and a spread of breakfast pastries he'd gone out to specifically pick up for you, you'd been hooked on him as well.

The only problem was Hotch.

You certainly weren't winning any daughter of the year awards already with the stunt you pulled to get on the BAU, but you didn't want to be completely and totally disowned just yet.

“Hotch won't kill you for dating his daughter, you're right,” you mumbled back to Spencer rolling yourself back on top of him and pinning his arms down so his fingers couldn't tease you any further.

“Thank you, now if you trust me, I've ran like four different scenarios in my head so-”

“He'd definitely fire us both, though. And that's worse than death.”

“Y/N….”

“Tell me I'm wrong, please. Back up your findings with empirical evidence. He doesn't want me on the team, Spencer. He doesn't even want me in the FBI. I think he'd be happy enough to ship me out of the country, too, if that helped.”

Spencer sighed and tugged your hair behind your ear as he gestured for you to sit up.

“I know it's scary. But I love you. I don't care about the consequences because I'll still love you before and after telling him.”

“And during?”

“I might freak out a bit, but deep down, the love will be there still.”

You hit him with a pillow and climbed off the bed.

“Okay, get out now. I'll think about it but you really can't stay here tonight.” He nodded, grabbing his things and pulling his clothes back into place.

“So, like we're totally done for tonight? Nothing else.”

“Spencer! Out!” You whisper-shouted the words and watched him turn your door handle as slowly as possible before he waved his goodbye and left your room.

12 hours later, you were once again getting frustrated with Spencer Reid. And Aaron Hotchner. They may soon be enemies, but goddamn they were perfect for each other in some ways.

“Hotch, you can't just give me nothing to do. Send me to the morgue with Rossi, or let me interview family members with Tara. I'm a member of this team, too, so let me do my job.”

“You'll do well to remember that I'm your boss, Y/N.”

“You're acting more like my dad right now. A boss would utilize his team members.”

You'd been stuck in this stale mate since the morning, and Reid hadn't helped at all. When giving out assignments that morning, you'd not been notably left out of crime scene investigation, suspect interrogation, and anything helpful. Reid usually asked for your assistance at times like these, but he was finally putting his money where his mouth was and keeping distance from you in the office.

So far, you'd ran coffees back and forth between the kitchen and work room and had been communicating back and forth with JJ and Derek in the field and Garcia back at Quantico.

You'd been, for lack of better comparison, relegated to receptionist.

“At least let me work on the geographical profile with Reid-”

“Absolutely not.”

You stiffened at the reaction, wondering just exactly why he would react so strongly. Spencer had snuck in a few secret kisses here and there this morning, though you'd been sure that you'd had no witnesses.

“Why not?”

“I don't want you to distract him.”

Bile settled in the back of your throat as you tried your best to bite your tongue and keep the bitter words in.

“You know, sometimes, Dad, it feels like you love everyone on this team more than you love me.”

He locked eyes with you quickly, but he glance was dismissive and stern, almost as if he was asking you ‘seriously.’

You turned on your heels and began to walk out before he called out from behind you again.

“Y/N,” you stopped despite yourself.

“Leave the gun and badge on the desk. We'll discuss this after the case is closed.”

You almost laughed. You almost blurted out your relationship with Spencer just to spite him. You followed his order and took yourself out of the office for some fresh air, finally giving him what he wanted.

An hour of aimlessly wandering down the street, and you turned into a run-down park. 16 missed calls from Spencer and other members of the team, who'd no doubt watched you turn in your badge.

Garcia had even called a few times, and you felt guilty for not forwarding her calls somewhere else, knowing she'd probably have key case information for someone.

But you just couldn't handle it anymore, so you switched it off, pushed it back into your pocket, and kept walking.

It was two more blocks before the man following you pushed a soaked rag over your mouth and nose and pushed your unconscious body into the back of a waiting van.

×××××

Two hours of near constant complaining to Hotch had gotten Spencer nowhere in his demands to know just where you went.

He'd called you 36 times since Hotch had told him you'd left, and he hadn't stopped freaking out since.

“But where did she go?”

“I sent her back to the motel.”

“All of our cars, bar the one JJ and Morgan took to the crime scene, are outside and accounted for. The motel is a 34-minute drive away. It'll take her 5 hours on foot through our unsubs hunting grounds, and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but she matches the victim profile we just gave. Where is she?”

A muscle in Hotch's jaw twitched, but neither of them moved, eyes locked in battle to see who would back down first.

A call from Penelope ended whatever disaster was storming between them.

“Hotch hey, I can't get in contact with mini-Hotch, so here I am. Morgan called earlier from the crime scene. From the way they're posed, he said they could be possible stand-ins for a lost child a daughter or a sister, so I cross checked the ownership of the vehicles that run with the tires we found prints of at the scene, and I got a name. Like one.”

“Great work, Penelope, send it over.”

Hotch dropped the call and looked back up at Spencer, readying himself to give orders and push the issue.

Again, their standoff was interrupted.

“Hotch,” JJ rushed in, carrying a radio dispatcher, face white, and filled with worry. “You need to hear this.”

“Witness reported an abduction on East and 7th, patrol surveyed the scene and found a cellphone. Identifying information suggests it belongs to a Y/N Hotchner. We're bringing it into the stat-”

Hotch stood so fast his chair almost crashed to the floor. He stood so fast that he barely had time to dodge the lunge Spencer took in his direction, fist pulled back. It would connect, given the chance he knew it would. He'd been the one to teach Spencer to throw a punch in the first place.

Morgan insinuated himself between the two men before, and blood could be shed, quickly pulling Spencer back as Rossi, too, rushed into the room to diffuse the situation.

“One hour. I've been asking you for one hour where she went, and you wouldn't answer me. You made her leave her gun behind.”

It wasn't exactly a shout, but there was something broken in his voice, as of his mouth had filled with blood and he could only spit hate at a man who'd been a mentor to him until seconds before.

“If she's hurt- fuck, if even a hair on her head is out of place, I'll-”

“What, Spencer? What will you do? She's my daughter. What could you do that-”

“She's my girlfriend! She's my girlfriend, she's the love of my life. God, I want to marry her, I have the ring, I have the proposal planned, all that was left was telling you and then asking her, but you've been such a dick to her about this job, and about cases, and God knows what else, that she doesn't want to say anything to you, and now you've driven her away and she's fucking gone. And she could be hurt or in danger or d-de…”

He crumpled to the floor, Morgan still holding him as his legs gave way beneath him.

Nobody moved for what felt like hours, still in their grief, shock, some just nervous to see what would happen next.

“You've been in this situation before, Hotch. So have I. It's …. It hasn't ended well for us before.”

The words were so final, so defeated that they sucked the air out of the room.

“Morgan,” Hotch started quietly, eyes still locked with Reid's, still staring down the reflection of his own despair.

“Get Garcia back on the line, I want confirmation that the vehicle that picked Y/N up is the same one that our unsub has been using to set up crime scenes. See if she can lift a name and an address. Rossi, if he's skilled enough to pick up an FBI Agent unaware, we need a SWAT team, get one on standby.”

Slowly growing in volume, he continued, as the room started moving at his signal.

“JJ, Tara, take over where Reid left off with the geographical profile. Look at Y/N's last known location and how far a car could've gotten in the last 24 minutes.”

He paused again, staring Reid down.

“Reid, you're with me.”

xxxxx

It took you a few seconds to gain a sense of your surroundings when you came to. Partially because of the drug induced migraine splitting your head, and partially because of the mess of ribbons and stuffed toys you'd woken up in.

A change of clothes, and hands tied to what seemed to be a children's bed and you felt so grossly vulnerable your body shook with a few harsh sobs before you regained your composure and remembered your training.

The knots on the rope holding your hands were tight. There wasn't much room to move with them pinned above your head, but you recognised them as naval knots. Your unsub had experience at sea, recreational or professional you'd yet to determine.

Looking around again, you looked for entries and exits, wanting to know how the unsub would come in again and how you could get out.

There were no windows, but a set of stairs leading up towards a solid door told you that you'd been locked inside a basement. A basement decorated similarly to a child's bedroom.

Dimly lit by a mass of fairy lights, the room seemed covered head to toe in teddy bears, dolls, and children's books, a sturdy handmade doll’s house standing in the corner of the room.

Faintly, you heard the creaking of floorboards above you before the handle of the basement door rattled and more light poured in.

“I bought you breakfast, cupcake.”

There was no time to feign unconsciousness again as your captor finally came into view.

He was older than middle-aged, slightly wider around the midsection than you assumed he'd been in his youth. His hair was closely cropped and laid neatly, leading you to suspect he was former military.

“Oh, good, you're awake. What do you want to do today, cupcake? Daddy has some time off now, I can play with you all you want.”

You moved slowly, pushing yourself up to a seated position so you could bend your arms a bit. But you didn't look away, needing to keep him in your line of sight the entire time.

“Where am I?” You asked slowly, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Wow, you must've had a deep sleep cupcake. You're in your bedroom, silly!”

The man's sprightly tone was disconcerting, and you could see a muscle in his forehead twitch slightly as you spoke.

“O-of course. My mistake. Maybe I'm just still tired.”

He laid the tray on the bedside table and sat on the bed next to you. You tried your best not to shy from his touch as he stroked your hair, but every muscle in your body tensed and pulled from him reflexively.

A quick glance to the tray and you saw the food he'd brought you was a small cup of pills and a glass of water to rinse them down with.

If he noticed your flinch, he said nothing, grabbing a hairbrush from the nightstand and beginning to comb through your hair slowly and deliberately, taking care like one would a daughter.

“Daddy,” you took a chance, recalling the name he'd given himself earlier. “Can we play outside today? I want to go to the park.”

He stopped moving, and you held your breath as his smile dropped.

“No, sweetie. You know we don't go to parks.”

“Why not? I really want to play there, Daddy, please!”

In seconds, his hands wrapped around your throat as he pushed you back down into the bed, holding you there with his tight, suffocating grip.

“Shut the fuck up you little slut. I said we don't go to parks, you listen. I am your father, you are not being taken by one of those sick freaks again.”

He released you as quick as he grabbed you and stood up, pacing as he attempted to regain composure.

“You can draw or we can have a tea party but you know we can't go out. You know that cupcake, I've told you so many times.”

He grabbed at his hair, pulling it from its carefully styled arrangement into a mess, his fingers leaving red marks against his white skin as he pushed and pulled his head.

He breathed deeply, and you sat up, trying to regain your composure as you watched him lose his.

“What was her name?” You whispered, half hoping he would hear you, half praying that he'd ignore you for the sake of his fantasy.

“W-What?”

“Your daughter. What was her name?”

He focused on you again, but his hands - hands that you knew could and would choke the life out of you if you did something wrong again - his hands were shaking.

You heard the floorboards creaking upstairs and decided to push your questioning, hoping it meant what you thought it did.

“Why are you saying it like that, ‘was?’ Is. Her name is, your name is Laura, and you're my little cupcake.”

“What happened to her?” You filled your voice with as much sympathy and understanding as you could muster, one eye on the basement door that was being slowly pushed open. One look at Morgan at the top of the stairs had your heart rate slowing to a calmer speed. You locked eyes with him for a second, halting him, and he nodded, waiting for your signal.

“You, you're my cupcake, you look just like… She should look just like you.”

The man sat on the bed again, stroking a hair out of your eye as his filled with tears.

“Fifteen years. I looked for her for fifteen years, you know. If I hadn't taken her to that park-”

“That must have been hard.”

He nodded as he broke down in silent sobs.

“They said… they said she probably died a day or two after we lost her. When they found her, she was…” he rested his head on your shoulder, let him cling to you as he mourned his daughter.

“We couldn't identify her, but she had that teddy with her. The teddy with the cupcake in its hands. She never went anywhere without it. So we…we knew.

You looked at Morgan as he slowly made his descent into the room, closely followed by JJ.

The man looked up into your eyes again, wiping the tears from his face.

“She was only 8.” He looked defeated, and your heart broke for him, even as you wished to get as far away from him as you could physically muster.

Morgan pulled him up and away from you as he secured the man with handcuffs, but his eyes remained locked on you.

JJ untied you and guided you out, but you felt his gaze bite into you ever after you'd left the basement.

As soon as you were above ground, you let your body divest itself of adrenaline, your legs buckling as JJ tried to catch you. Another set of arms was quicker, though, and you didn't even register Spencer's arrival before burying your head in his chest and letting your sobs escape you.

He guided you to your feet and walked you out to the ambulance, his arms protectively wrapped around you, his lips peppering kisses along your hairline and forehead, anywhere he could reach. In moments, you were bundled into the ambulance, and three gentle voices were trying to calm you, to pry you away from your comfort doll.

You wondered if you'd die like the unsubs daughter had, if they'd find you clinging to Spencer the way she had to her teddy bear.

“Y/N,” your father's deep voice was clear and smooth, the only thing that was cutting through the wretched moment of pain you were enduring.

You remembered yourself again, relinquishing your grip on Spencer and wiping the tears from your face as you finally looked towards Aaron Hotchner.

The paramedics took their chance and began checking your vitals, working around you in a hurry.

“Dad, I'm sorry, I was walking and didn't notice that he was behind me, I should've been more careful-”

“Y/N, it’s okay. You're okay now.”

You nodded as he came closer. You ignored the tears in his eyes, trying not to break down again. It had been an age since you'd last witnessed him cry, at another crime scene with another family member and another unsub. You couldn't think about how close you'd come to making him relive his worst nightmare.

Spencer's hand was still firm in yours, and you held it like a lifeline, though you were sure your nails had to be cutting him by now. It took another moment to register that he was holding onto you just as hard, that he was unmoving, still where he was usually a series of compulsive moments, tapping, hand wringing, fists clenching and releasing.

You glanced between the men, who had now become quiet as they surveyed you, and noticed the tension. Before you could say anything, though, the paramedics took over.

“We're going to get you to the hospital now, Agent, one coworker can accompany you in the vehicle, preferably one with knowledge of your medical history.”

Both men immediately moved forward again, as if ready to jump into the van, before turning again to each other.

“Shit,” you mumbled to yourself just as the buzzing in your head from the migraine grew louder.

“Y/N, it's your choice. Who do you want to come?” Spencer said gently, his body still stiff with worry.

“I'm her father. This isn't a question of who she likes better.”

“I have her medical records memorized, and I have more knowledge about the drugs the unsub gave her, but Y/N can choose for herself because she is a grown woman.”

You sighed and dropped the man's hand as the medics ushered you into the van fully, but the men were fully absorbed in their fight for dominance that they barely registered it.

“JJ. JJ is coming with me,” You could see both of them turn back to you to argue, but you continued before they could. “Because I am a grown adult who knows her own medical history, and I don't need my father and my… coworker having territory wars over my wellbeing.”

And possibly because she'd be the least awkward option to answer the questions about sexual activity and possibility of pregnancy around, but you really did not need to vocalize that.

“Right now, I'm just a victim you've saved. Go and do your jobs and meet me at the hospital later because I am not doing overtime completing paperwork while on suspension.”

JJ climbed up into the ambulance and the doors shut, letting you finally get a few moments peace as it began slowly making its way to whatever hospital was closest.

“He knows, right?” You asked, covering your eyes with your hands as you braved for the answer.

“Hotch? You could say that he figured it out.”

“That bad?”

“Spencer threw a punch at him. He tried to at least.”

“What?!” Your body shot up, but the paramedic gently forced you back into a laid position, giving you a warning look to stay put as she checked your blood pressure.

“Don't be too hard on him, Y/N. He thought he was going to lose you. They both did. I don't think either of them would survive it happening again.”

The guilt hit you right in the chest as you nodded and dropped the conversation.

“Maybe I should've let Spencer come with me.”

“Why?” JJ asked, not offended bit curious.

“Because I'm not entirely sure my father won't throw that punch back at him now he knows I'm okay. It's hard being in a relationship if one of you is dead.”

The older woman chuckled slightly, and you settled back down, letting the car movements rock you into sleep.

xxxxx

A few hours later and some quietly bickering voices pulled you from the rest you'd so sorely needed. Without even opening your eyes, you knew they'd both subtly scrambled to your bed to make sure you were comfortable.

“What are you talking about?” You asked, wiping your eyes carefully as you tried to sit up, arms still aching from being tied up.

“Oh shit-” you exclaimed after seeing your boyfriends freshly split lip.

“Dad, what the fuck?”

“Y/N, it's fine. It doesn't hurt.”

“Aaron Hotchner, do you have nothing to say for yourself?” You tried to put all of tour anger into the words as you said them, bit he looked at you again with his straight face, and you crumpled under the pressure.

“I won't…I'm not going to object. I just ask you to keep your private life separate from your work.”

“And you're going to punch my boyfriend while I'm unconscious, so I can't defend him.”

“I'm still your father, and he deserved it.”

You looked back over to Spencer, who was quite notably not meeting your eyes.

“Do I want to know?”

“I'm leaving now. Jack will be here soon. He wants to check on you now that school is over. We told him you were hurt trying to save a sick man.”

“Thank you, dad.”

He nodded at you and left you alone in your hospital room with Spencer.

“Why did you deserve it?” You whisper shouted the moment you assumed he was out of earshot.

“The doctor came in and asked about some old bruises on your upper thighs. And ass. And chest. I had to admit they weren't sustained during the kidnapping, and Hotch wasn't pleased.”

You huffed out a sound halfway between incredulous and a strangled moan of shame as you curcled yourself up into a ball and tried your best to die.

“Great. Wonderful.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he thought it was signs of domestic violence and not just rough...sex.”

“Yes, Spencer, that makes me feel entirely more comfortable with the situation.”

Registering the sarcasm in your voice, he quieted down again, settling into the chair by your bedside and grabbing your hand.

You sat silently together for a few minutes before either of you said anything.

“I'm sorry. I know you didn't want him to find out.”

“Spencer, you don't have to apologise. All things considered, this is possibly the best way he could've found out.”

“My busted lip suggests otherwise, I think.”

“And a whole lot more would've been busted if he caught us any other time. Besides, I already lost my job, so there's not much else at stake anymore.”

The words stung you as you said them, but you did still feel the weight of your dismissal in your chest, spreading miserably through your bones.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“Not really, why?”

“You're not as perceptive as you usually are.”

You shot him a confused look as he smiled softly down at you, offering a nod towards the small coffee table under the window of your hospital room.

There on your table sat your creds and your gun. The silent acknowledgement you'd been waiting for from your father.

Spencer sat by you as you did your best to hold off the tears. He let you pretend there was something in your eye, let you wonder if your eyes had become watery because of dust from the basement. He quietly held your hand as you grinned and grinned until you pulled him in for a kiss and held him close to you.

His lips were soft as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down on top of you even as he tried to hold himself up and off you so he didn't hurt you.

“You know,” you said, punctuating each word with another sweet kiss. “This means- that- you're- stuck- with- me.”

He laughed into your final kiss, finally pulling back for more air, studying your face as if he were trying to memorize it.

“That was never the issue.”

“Oh really, and what was?”

He kissed your again, slow and deep this time, taking his time working his hands down from your hair to your neck to cup your face so you were opened up to him, letting his lips and tongue explore everything he wanted to. He pulled away eventually and instinctively your lips tried to chase his, even as he pulled out of reach.

“Making sure you stayed by my side.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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hoony2k · 3 months

Text

HEART 2 HEART

I aint never seen two chill idols in a room, one of them is always obesessed with the other. Or

Idol!enha giving idol!you heart eyes in professional settings.

PAIRING: ot7

GENRE: fluff, crack, established lovers, secret lovers, idol x idol

WORD COUNT: 3k (help)

WARNINGS: mentions of innocent kissing that's it. I got possessed during hoon and hee's.

NOTE: hii this was so fun. I kind of wanted niki and sunoo's to be a bit longer but I yapped a bit too much in general. this is massive for a 7 member drabble but 1 para wouldn't do justice. hope you enjoy!

Part 1 -> we dating fr?

Part 3 -> cut the cameras

requested masterlist

★ HEESEUNG:

He thinks everything’s a game!!he thinks its funny! But mr lee who is laughing? Not him rn

You’re walking in the hallways after a quick trip to the washroom when suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you into a room. You’re ready to scream but he swiftly covers your mouth and chants “It’s me. It’s me” like that’ll help you understand why your boyfriend thought it would be a good idea to lead you into a small clothing room.

You want to get mad at him for a billion reasons but mainly because what if someone saw? and misunderstood! But his stupid smile tells you how he doesn’t care. Sometimes you want to have his optimism and confidence, maybe then you two could live a carefree idol life.

Heeseung wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to fiddle with the bows on your outfit and hair. Your faux anger slowly crumbles as he stares at you like you painted the night sky and hung the stars on it. Still, you break eye contact just to dust your pride and Heeseung can not stop laughing, finding you cuter than ever.

“I have to go soon. We can’t get caught”, you remind him, the overwhelming time restraint burdens you every time you meet him outside his dorms and as usual, Heeseung doesn’t mind. He shrugs casually, then gives you a reckless smile, eyes hooded. “Who cares?”

Your heart skips a beat in the best way but you purse your lips and pretend to think it over. A hum escapes you, tapping your finger on his chin. He leans closer.

“Probably our managers, you know?”, you say knowing he’s far too busy admiring your eye makeup to even care about the consequences of what would happen if someone were to open the door. So, you do the most logical thing a person subjugated with love could do. Taking his smiley face in your grasp, you turn his head and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, intentionally pressing into his skin to leave a stain.

You pull back to inspect the pink gloss on his cheek, lightly smudged. Heeseung looks like he’s floating but before he can pull any stunts you clap him on the back as a goodbye and quickly scurry out of the room. Not even bothering to check if someone was in the hallway.

If Heeseung stands alone dazed for a while…no one needs to know. He fights his demons when he brings out a tissue to remove your gloss, sobbing internally.

★ JAY:

You will be my girl my girl my girl <3

Jay had told you about how he’d film the Sweet Venom TikTok challenge with you to prepare you beforehand. You had learnt the dance long ago, but the mental preparation to become a different person in front of Jay from Enhypen and a camera took some mental energy. Acting like you were strangers and not a couple filming a silly video wasn’t what you wanted but you were thankful no one spread dirty rumours.

His manager held the camera to film some behind-the-scenes footage of Jay “teaching” you what to do in the challenge and it was kind of funny. But when it came to filming, Jay did everything to be able to spend some extra time with you without seeming suspicious.

He’d get the timing wrong on purpose, he’d bump into you, with the smallest nudge and he’d quickly pause the challenge to apologise. Each time he’d falter or force himself to be out of sync, to have one eye slightly closed, you’d laugh it off, genuinely finding his actions endearing.

He’s excited to film it with you, he can’t wait to show how good you two look, and how his dance style compliments yours, and he can’t wait to see his fans react, gushing over you, throwing heart emojis for his girl.

It was rare for to Jay get so stubborn so you entertained it and laughed. The manager didn’t mind as long as she farmed enough footage but eventually puts her foot down when the behind-the-scenes videos turns longer than 2 minutes and the challenge hasn't reached its middle yet.

She politely tells Jay to rehearse once more and she’d film it after that. The rehearsed one goes by smoothly; the steps are muscle memory at this point.

Before the final take, Jay wants to tell you good luck but almost slips and lays it all out in the open as he parts his lips to call you “Babe”. At the utterance of the first syllable, you snap your head in his direction, eyes piercing his soul, not a hint of a smile.

Jay catches his tongue and switches it to another similar word and thankfully it isn’t noticeable nor is it understood by the manager who assumes Jay’s nerves cause him to slur over his speech. No big deal.

Slightly nervous, Jay glances at you and you offer him an understanding nod. Then the final take begins and everything goes smoothly. When the challenge ends, you turn to bow and he thanks you for joining him. As the manager gives you a thumbs up and taps away on her phone preoccupied, you turn to Jay with a raised brow and he blushes.

“I don’t wanna talk about it”.

★ JAKE:

Personal space? Never heard of her

It’s been hours since you’ve arrived and Jake has not stopped smiling for even a second. He’s over the moon he can’t believe how well you fit into his social circle (enha) like a puzzle piece he was missing this whole time. He’s not sappy but he could write an entire sonnet on how gorgeous you look lounging on his bed, eating take out and brushing your hair back as you watch the movie with him.

But when you announce it’s time to leave, he does not stop sulking and begging you. Literally on his knees. The moment you try to get out of bed, he grabs onto your arm and pulls you tight into his embrace, nose in your hair, he pretends he’s asleep when you ask him to let go.

“My manager just texted me”, you tell him but your hands find his free hand. He rubs a thumb over your hand and you feel like you just kicked a wet puppy into mud. He groans into your hair, slowly and subtly, his legs wrap around your own as if he’s trying to merge your bodies.

“Tell her your phone exploded”, his voice is muffled and immediately you stop feeling bad.

You whine his name and try again but he refuses to budge, and when he tries to pull his bed covers on your frame, you decide to threaten him, “I’ll scream for Jay I’m not playing. I’m overdue curfew”.

“Door’s locked”. HELLO??

You sigh and let your head rest on his pillow that smells exactly like him, ignore the flutter in your rib cage and rest for just a minute. Jake mistakes it as a sign of you surrendering, his grip loosening. You don’t waste a second and throw his caged arms off and jump out of bed and he begins to sulk and wail at the loss of contact. But as much as you love him, you can finally breathe without the weight of your chest.

“I like the idol you better. The one who acts like he doesn’t know me”.

“He wouldn’t treat you like I do”.

He’s ready to have beef with idol Jake if it is meant to impress you. When he’s tying up your shoelaces for you, he’s like “I’ll walk you home” and you tell him he cannot do that because people are always snooping so you’ll get a taxi and he’s like “I’ll walk you downstairs and wait until you sit inside”.

How could you say no to his puppy eyes?

★ SUNGHOON:

he’s on cloud nine because his wish finally came true. He’s radiating light wherever he goes.

He sat next to you, far too close for it to appear platonic but Sunghoon told you not to worry. He tells you not to worry when he’s facing you, knees brushing, you can feel his body heat despite the cool in the room. You’re trying your hardest not to stare at him or how he’s rolled up his dress shirt sleeves despite his stylist’s scolding, or how they slicked his hair back with gel but left one strand to dangle on his forehead, how it curves and makes his eyes seem sharper than they are.

You’re trying, ok?

It’s better than Sunghoon who cannot stop leaning in your personal space as he reads his lines off your shoulder for some reason, he giggles when you try to push him away but he clings like a magnet. The floor vibrates with heavy bass, you’re up again in ten minutes and you need him to get serious.

Unlike him, it’s your first time mc-ing and despite his hype boy attitude, your fingers still shake as you read your lines out loud. Sunghoon’s smile flickers until he remembers he can do something to help.

“Hey, just focus on me”, he says calmly, ironically the one thing you’ve been trying not to do.

But, with blind trust, you agree and your gaze lands on his. His eyes twinkle and crinkle, he stares back at you and you think you’ve started to smile like an idiot. You turn your eyes to soak in his outfit once more, he matches your formal dress, a deep red satin dress paired with similar gloves. He’s adorned in dark slacks that emphasise his stature, and a dark dress shirt with a maroon tie. His tie is crooked-

Out of instinct or perhaps it stems from the urge to hold his hands, feel his heartbeat under your fingers, you reach out, hands settling on his shoulders, then inch towards his neck to tighten and straighten the knot. Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave your serious expression, a lovesick smile hangs on his face. Your hands press onto the material to flatten it and fix his collars like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

Something clatters and smashes loudly.

You rip your hands off his shoulders and he suddenly feels cold. Sunghoon pouts but you quickly turn away, surprisingly less scared than before. You glance in front and see your stylist give orders, someone says another band is preparing for an interview in 5. Finally, you grip the cards tightly in your hands but don’t even spare them a glance. Instead, you lock eyes with your lover who had been looking fondly at you the whole ordeal.

“let’s go over this one last time for your sake”.

Sunghoon laughs.

★ SUNOO:

Therapists hate him. He’s a mastermind at manipulation.

Both of you are chosen along with another idol and actor to partake in a reality show where you all live together and go on an adventure it’s all a great experience and you get to interact with new lovely people but when it’s late at night, the crew has gone to their hotel, cameras have been turned off, you, Sunoo and the actor gather at the dining table.

Sunoo keeps smiling at you and the actor and he offers to peel mandarins. As he peels, the conversation flows smoothly, his fingers work quickly and skillfully. Even though his eyes are downcast, his change in expressions tell you he’s listening to the conversation.

Out of respect, he offers the actor a plate with the most mandarin slices and out of habit, he slides to you the plate with the juiciest and scrumptious slices, choosing the dry ones for himself. You shyly thank him and Sunoo brushes it off. He only realizes what he’s done and how much of a deal it is when the actor questions if he’s a good friend of yours.

Sunoo bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling, he waves his hand in dismal, he looks at you up and down. You refuse to make eye contact.

“Something like that”.

His open-ended answer renders you speechless and you pretend to be busy when the actor looks at you. You untie your hair for it to cover your heated ears and fake cough as you take another bite.

Sunoo offers you a napkin. His hand stretches over the table and all eyes are on you, the actor is on the edge of his seat as he observes you like a hawk.

As nonchalant as you can be, you roll your shoulders and take it from him. Despite your efforts to avoid skin contact, Sunoo flicks his wrist and his fingers delicately brush yours, sparks light up inside your stomach.

You quietly thank him and he shows off his charming smile. the actor next to you sighs loudly and glances at the clock before thanking Sunoo for the mandarins. Sunoo shines another smile at the man who glances between the two of you.

“Chemistry like this is hard to find. If you two end up dating, I’ll be supporting you”.

This time you choke on the juice and Sunoo springs up to give you a glass of water and pats your back for safety. The actor nods once more then leaves. When the coughing fit dies down, you ask Sunoo what all that was about, he tells you not to worry. He peeks at the camera as a precaution, it’s got a lid covering the lens. Then, he bends down to kiss your hair and brings your plate closer to him so he can feed you. Your heart attempts to jump onto the table when he affectionately begins to stroke your hair as well.

Friends be damned, you’ve hit the lover jackpot.

★ JUNGWON:

He loves his job but hates all the parts where he has to be too pretend his personal life doesn’t exist.

“I wish you were here with me”, he says the moment you pick up. You pout, shoulders sag immediately.

He notices this and almost feels bad as he caresses his phone screen like it’s a glass screen dividing him and the fish at an aquarium. The thought makes him laugh. He wants to spend the entire night talking to you, memorising your presence, pretending you're cuddled next to him but he can’t go through with his urges because you need to sleep.

Jungwon would never want you to disturb your sleep routine, no matter how many times you text or tell him that you want to do these things for him, it's only natural.

“I bought you a keychain”, you tell him, voice cracking over the call. He adjusts his camera, brows raised. You know what he’ll say so you answer, “You’ll see it when I give it to you”.

He pouts and brings the camera closer to his face to coax you into showing it, his tired eyes sparkle and almost distract you from his dark circles. Your heart sinks. What time is it there? You don’t need to calculate because you had already memorized the time difference by heart before he departed.

“Baby, it’s 2 am there”.

He shakes his head, hair flicking him in the eye, he squints up at you and unconsciously buries himself under his comfy hotel blankets. You stare at your lover, take in his appearance and admire how hard he works to achieve his dreams, how he wants to be a good boyfriend and tick all the boxes that make your heart soar. He looks like he’ll fall asleep in the peaceful silence so you grant him an offer.

“Would you like me to sing you to sleep?”

His dimple greets you and under the covers where you can’t see, Jungwon rubs his legs together, giddy like a child.

“Sing your next song for me”, he whispers and you gasp at him, taken back by the new information. It’s your turn to squint at him as you ask him about how he knew you were preparing for a comeback. He shakes his head and mumbles, “You changed your makeup”.

Makeup…that was only evident in pictures. You hadn’t met him all dolled up behind stage due to your schedules and could barely fit an hour with him at his dorm because you two were so busy. Yet he had noticed, somehow in a supernatural but very Jungwon way and your face heated up.

Your melody filtered through his speakers, it only took a minute for Jungwon’s breathing to even out, his hand going limp and the phone falling backwards to give you a view of the ceiling light.

Still, you finish the song and wish him a good night. Whisper a soft I love you in the dimly lit room, a saccharine confession that he’ll hear confidently soon.

★ NIKI:

Bro thinks hes in an edit‼️literally moves slowly like that when he sees you, r&b song playing in this head

On the encore stage, other bands including yours bow to Enha and in those 4 seconds, Niki decides to take a shot.

He thanks you with a bow and when you turn your attention to Jungwon, Niki speaks your name. It's far too gentle to be caught in the mic and he faces his head toward you so the back of his head is captured by the camera.

But like a compass, you always find his voice, when he calls for you in the hallways or when he's talking to other people in his makeup room, your ears seem to find him before your eyes do.

As you turn your wide eyes to him, unaware of his plans, Niki's boxy smile vanishes. He gazes at you through lidded eyes that appear striker more so than ever due to his bold makeup and he renders you speechless, cupid shooting you with several arrows.

You're paused mid-bow, face heating up under Niki's stare and smug smile, professional composure crumbling. There's a siren going off in your head, the cameras!

But what do they know? They can't even see your lover's expression, only the tilt of his head and dark wavy hair that tickles his neck. A part of you, a possessive side is overjoyed they can't. Swiftly, Jungwon covers your body and gives Niki a nasty side eye which finally manages to pull you out of the trance.

You return to thanking them and saying whatever nonsense comes to mind, Jungwon understands but Niki cackles loudly. As fast as this interaction happens, you fall back and merge with the crowd that walks off stage.

Thankfully, no one could figure out what happened but they made assumptions based on your expressions. That hype dies down in the fandoms but Niki can't stop replaying the moment on his end. It's a free amv for songs, he's never going to stop thinking about it.

Thank you for reading!

All rights belong to me. Please do not copy/translate/edit.

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stsgluver · 4 months

Text

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 — gojo satoru

synopsis. another installment of the first years going through old videos of their teacher and his friends

wc. 4.1k

tags. gojo x reader, reader in the same class as gojo, ft. nanami and haibara

an. do I have any idea where im taking this? no. still think its cute though (let’s hope the next part doesn’t take me another couple of months 🤭)

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“good evening boys,” nobara burst into megumi and yuuji’s room. the former who was shocked awake from his nap and the latter who had two big bags of popcorn in either arm. he’d been waiting for an hour for the orange-haired girl, a bright grin on his face.

“you can’t just come into our room,” megumi grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head and rolling over in his bed. nobara and yuuji ignored his complaint, dragging both chairs in their room in front of yuuji’s desk. nobara set up the laptop whilst yuuji ran to nobara’s room to grab a third chair. after five minutes of rustling, their movie night was read.

“come sit all, it’s movie time!” the orange-haired girl said excitedly, pulling megumi’s comforter off of him. he sported his usual frown but sleepily complied nonetheless, dragging the blanket around his body as he sat next to yuuji (who then forced the dark-haired teen to share some of the blanket with him).

“we’re in detention.” the screen opened up with you – hair pulled back into a ponytail as you wore your usual uniform. the three students could recognise the wall behind you as one of their own classes.

“not our fault,” shoko added, fixing gojo’s glasses on the top of her head. the two of you spoke in hushed whispers, glancing towards the door where, presumably, yaga was on the other side. you had shoved your desk closer to shoko’s so it was basically one big desk and the camera was balanced in the middle.

“never is,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, shooting the person next to you a glare.

shoko lightly shifted the camera so that geto could come into frame. he raised his hands up in surrender, “it’s not mine either.”

“satoru is getting yelled at by sensei right now,” you whisper shouted, pointing towards the door. if yuuji turned the volume up any louder, they’d be able to hear yaga yet again scolding gojo for another mistake he’d made on a mission – an order he’d probably disobeyed the more confident he grew in his own ability.

shoko frowned, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “he literally knows it was that idiot. why are we being punished?”

“maybe yaga thinks if we get annoyed at satoru he’ll stop,” geto reasoned with a sigh, as if though he wasn’t gojo’s partner in crime and equally as complicit when he entertained his antics.

“no he won’t. he thinks by punishing us, satoru will have some epiphany about his actions impacting other people. like he thinks far enough ahead to come to that realisation,” you dropped your head down onto your desk. geto laughed quietly, giving you a ‘comforting’ pat on your shoulder.

shoko leant close to the camera, a sharp pencil in hand that she lightly jutted forward, “count your days, gojo satoru.”

the classroom door slid open and the camera was abruptly dropped as yaga walked in, a head of white hair only seconds behind. “is that a came–?” his voice was muffled and cut off quickly as the clip ended.

“bagsy my turn,” yuuji practically jumped from his seat, almost spilling the popcorn everywhere as his half off the blanket dropped from his lap.

megumi grumbled at him as he grabbed the blanket and bag of popcorn from his excitable classmate. “oh no i was in such a rush,” he sarcastically quipped and nobara lightly nudged his shoulder.

gojo behaved as a god now, untouchable to all as he alone was the strongest. even though their teacher had never been anything but overtly childish, his cursed energy wasn’t something that could be ignored. seventeen year old gojo was as human as they come, lovesick and reckless and happy. the balance of the world was yet to be forced upon him.

yuuji grinned as he sat back properly, having only taken a fraction of the time to find a video he wanted in comparison to their previous snooping session. taking back his bag of popcorn, he settled himself back under the blanket. “want some?” he offered megumi, who shook his head in response. “your loss.”

as per usual, it was shoko’s face up close and personal with the camera as she adjusted the lens and made sure that it was on and focused. once she was satisfied, she spun the camera so that it was facing nanami – yuuji could hardly contain himself at seeing his beloved teacher look so… not muscular and scary. small giggles filling the dorm room.

the two were in one of the tokyo classrooms, and sat on desks on opposing sides of the room. nanami had his head deep in a book that would probably kill any of his classmates from sheer boredom alone.

“who do you think the first of us to die will be?” shoko asked indifferently as nanami’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly looked to his left with an unimpressed expression. even as a sixteen year old, he was set in his rigid mannerisms and beliefs and often saw his four seniors as pains in the ass. whilst you and shoko were definitely ranked higher in his list of people he could tolerate than gojo and geto, questions like this made him contemplate his future in jujutsu sorcery if this was who he was going to be working alongside.

“why are you asking me that?”

“answer,” shoko demanded, zooming in the camera on nanami’s face. his blonde hair was held neatly in his side parting and he looked like anyone but the nanami the students were familiar with.

it looked like he was contemplating telling shoko she was odd, or completely blanking her and opting to finish his book, but the thoughtful silence was interrupted by a sudden thud outside of the classroom. their heads darted up to look at the door and peer through the open doorway into the hallway only to hear gojo’s faint ‘i’m okay!’.

nanami let out a drawn out sigh, shaking his head. “him.”

“none of us!” haibara’s voice called out as he peered out of the classroom’s cupboard that he’d been reorganising (it had been gojo and geto’s job but they’d left it worse than when they’d arrived and he really didn’t want to get told off again by yaga).

shoko eyed the camera in disbelief, not even trying to entertain the young teen’s impossible ideology. “you know the mortality rate of a sorcerer right?” she called back to haibara who didn’t falter in his cheeriness as he affirmed his point.

“and? geto and gojo are almost special grades already! you’ve got to have some faith in us,” he grinned, slipping his jacket back on as he finished up his tidying. his footsteps held a skip that the older students had lost – an innocence that was rarely allowed to exist in the jujutsu world.

yuuji had stopped giggling at the younger appearances of the sorcerers he now knew because he didn’t know him. it was a reminder to the three that no matter how positive they remained against the hardships that would come, it wouldn’t matter. it was kill or be killed and one tiny little mistake, one movement a fraction of a second too late, was the difference between getting paid and coming home in a body bag.

“lame,” shoko rolled her eyes. she tapped her twin twice as she pondered her own question before pointing at the blond opposite her, “my guess is nanami.” despite his disinterest in the question itself, he shot a look of offence to shoko who raised her free hand in surrender. “imagine this: you’re put on a mission with gojo. you’d ask the curse to kill you.”

“i’m getting killed by a curse?” the special grade in question peered into the classroom, glasses pushed up onto his head and revealing his renowned dazzling blue eyes. there was a small scratch on his cheek – presumably from whatever he’d hit into a few minutes prior.

“no, nanami is to avoid you.”

gojo gasped, one hand on the door frame and the other over his heart as he cried out that ‘that couldn’t be true’ and nanami was his ‘bestest bestie for life’. he only halted his dramatics when you and geto forced him out of the doorway so you could join the rest of your classmates.

you sat in your usual seat next to shoko and geto sat on top of your desk. gojo, on the other hand, remained at the door, jaw practically on the floor as he aggressively pointed at the annoyed blond. “guys, nanami is going to die so he doesn’t have to be friends with me, defend me!”

“at least one of us is brave enough to end our suffering,” geto teased, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grin as you lightly hit his arm, scolding him for entertaining gojo’s behaviour.

instead of giving the white haired sorcerer’s antics any more attention, shoko turned the camera so that it was only a couple of inches from your face. “who do you think will die first?”

“satoru,” you said in unison with geto, eliciting another gasp as gojo dropped onto the floor, faking death.

when he didn’t get the sympathetic reaction he wanted, he abruptly sat up, pointing a finger directly at you and geto, “did we all just forget five minutes ago when i kicked your asses in training?”

“i’m literally a grade two sorcerer, what sort of flex is that mr i’m-practically-special-grade-please-worship-the-ground-i-walk-on?” you scoffed. the video ended a few moments later, cutting off laughter and satoru bickering with you.

there was a brief moment of silence – mixed feelings towards what the three had just witnessed. of course it was fun to watch their teacher and his friends but death was a sobering event.

“megumi?” nobara gestured for him to take his turn on choosing their next video but he shook his head, cradling what remained of the bag of popcorn (he’d stolen it back after yuuji nearly spilled once he saw nanami).

“no thanks, you can take my go,” he offered and nobara grinned, worries set aside as she leant forward to find the next video. it was like watching a tv show but it was real life and she knew the characters.

yuuji tried to argue it should be his go – megumi did steal his popcorn after all – but megumi didn’t care enough to aid his argument and there was no way yuuji could overpower the orange-haired sorcerer without his support. nobara was a force to be reckoned with and yuuji was scared to make her mad.

“is that the teacher from kyoto?” nobara asked after several moments of silently scrolling.

yuuji leaned forward to look at the thumbnail of the video she held the cursor over and in between two tall cherry blossom trees was utahime iori. “it is!” he said excitedly; he’d never seen her without the scar before.

the video opened with utahime running towards the camera from the pink trees. they were fully bloomed and in the background there were tourists taking photos.

“did you get a good picture? does my hair look okay?” utahime asked whoever was behind the camera. the questions were so mundane – the questions of teenage girls worried more about their social media than if they’d survive their next mission.

“yeah don’t worry it always does,” shoko’s voice was heard speaking. her hand appeared in the frame a moment later as she handed utahime back her phone. “here’s your phone.”

“you never say that to me,” you grumbled.

“take the hint,” shoko threw a handful of cherry blossom leaves at you and there was the sound of rustling as you tried to shake what you could out of your hair.

“shoko ieiri!” you whined, followed by some incoherent threat and a complaint that you’d just had your hair done after some curse had ruined it the other week.

utahime picked up the camera, lifting it high up to show off the trees and bustling streets of tourists and commuters. “i thought we specifically didn’t bring gojo and geto to avoid childless arguments.”

“yn’s fault,” shoko countered, jumping away into the frame of the camera as you tried to hit her arm. she giggled, half behind utahime, “do you at least have gojo’s card?”

“you mean this gorgeous thing?” you appeared on the other side of utahime, sleek black card between your fingertips that you showed to the camera. “today is on him ladies.”

“you truly are taking one for the team being with him, i retract all earlier insults.” shoko held her hand out for a truce, bowing her head as you took her hand.

“i appreciate it, it’s not an easy task,” you dramatically wiped a fake tear away from the corner of your eyes. gojo had given you the card before you’d embarked on your monthly trip to the city, telling you that as long as you brought back a bag of sweets and kikufuku from that one cafe, he didn’t care what you spent.

you froze a moment later, a look of deep thought crossing your features, “can you guys hear that?”

“no,” utahime frowned, a look of concern as she glanced around at the crowd. if your day was about to be ruined by a curse, or worse yet, curse users–

“sounds like the card is saying we need to buy overpriced starbucks.” the three of you broke out into grins at the potential that the black card had given you.

“oh my god, you’re so right and wait,” shoko grabbed your wrist and brought the card close to her ear, “it needs cigarettes to be bought too.”

“shoko! you said you were quitting,” utahime nudged her and shoko blew her an apologetic kiss. the nicotine patches she’d bought to try and quit were still sealed and in a draw she hadn’t opened since she put them in there several weeks ago. quitting was nothing more than a fantasy considered once every blue moon.

“she’s a liar–”

“–and proud,” shoko finished your sentence with a nonchalant shrug.

“i wish sensei would give me his card for a day,” nobara said wistfully as the video ended, twisting a strand of her orange hair around her finger as she mentally plotted the order in which she’d go to all of the shops in tokyo. all she’d need was a full day – 9 to 5 – and she’d never have to shop another day in her life.

“you’d max it out within an hour,” yuuji scoffed, scooping a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. nobara scrunched her nose up at him as he messily chewed down.

“actually it’s a lot harder than it would seem,” megumi noted.

nobara raised a brow at him – megumi and shopping? “you’ve tried?”

“we tried multiple times,” megumi spoke without much of a second thought. his jaw clenched slightly as he realised his mistake and the consequential curious eyes . pointing to the dark screen, he lightly elbowed the boy next to him’s side, “yuuji take your go quick before i kick kugisaki out so i can sleep.”

“welcome to yn’s kitchen- don’t touch that,” you whacked geto’s hand with a wooden spoon, stopping him from dipping his finger into the bowl of chocolate icing. the dark haired sorcerer cradled his ‘injured’ hand though it was comical to believe you’d actually done any damage – he was at least an entire six inches taller than you.

“today we made a cake,” you held your arms out in a jazz hands manner to show something that… resembled a cake? if the students squinted maybe they’d agree.

“for satoru’s birthday,” geto added, pulling out the big ‘18’ candles that would eventually be used.

it was pretty obvious that neither of you had any real baking experience, but the thought was definitely there. the shape somewhat was cylindrical, only a small clump had chosen to stay in the pan and had to be ‘surgically’ glued back to the rest of the shape with a large scoop of nutella. you were hoping that the icing would disguise the bitterness of the burnt edges.

“taste it,” you smiled at the camera, shifting the plate towards geto like you were on some cooking show and that pile of sponge was something to be proud of.

geto pushed the plate back without any hesitation, “i don’t want to.”

“do it.”

“you do it.”

your smile dropped and you flashed geto a glare before composing yourself by clearing your throat. taking a deep breath, you broke off a tiny piece of the top layer of the cake, “so i’m now going to trial this small bit for research purposes.”

you barely had chewed twice before your mouth was scrunching up in disgust and you were disappearing off camera to find a bin to spit it out into.

geto, unfazed and unsurprised by your joint failure, picked up the spatula and began dolloping it onto the top of the cake.

“that’s horrendous-” you came back in view with a glass of water in hand. “what are you doing?”

“hiding that with icing,” he stated obviously.

“we’re still giving that to him?”

geto grinned, directly at the camera as he hoped gojo would find this video after he too ate this. “obviously we’re still giving it to him.”

“it’s weird,” yuuji hummed once the video ended, “those two were sensei’s closest friends and yet he doesn’t speak about either.”

“can you blame him? have you ever spoken to maki about the attack geto led against the school last year?” nobara pointed out and yuuji’s eyes widened as he’d nodded. maki was a woman of few words but when it came to yuta? she’d spend all day ranting about how much she disliked geto and that he’d gotten what was coming to him.

“my turn,” megumi placed the now empty bag of popcorn onto the floor as he scrolled and clicked on the first video that he could find. you weren’t a conversation he was ready to have yet – he could bearly speak to gojo about it, let alone the two loudest mouths in the school.

the video opened to the loud sound of the subway. shoko and geto were sat on one side whilst you and gojo on the other – with you holding up the camera as your beloved boyfriend stood up in the middle of the subway carriage.

“fit check!” gojo did a little spin, showing off his basic hoodie and baggy jeans that he wore almost every time the four snuck out of the high school – or in fact, did anything together for that matter. for someone so rich he really did not use his wealth to its full capacity.

after his little twirl and bow, he dropped back down next to you, looking over the camera into your eyes as he seeked your validation. “i look hot right?”

“you always look hot,” you flipped the camera to face yourself as you not-so-subtly-whispered, “his mum paid me to say that.” the students knew their teacher well enough to know that the dramatic gasp they heard was almost definitely followed by an overexaggerated display of anguish. your giggles and geto’s laughter only confirmed the conclusion.

“i think i need a kiss to recover. or i’ll spend the rest of my days as a ghost, heart broken and never able to leave this subway as i haunt it and all the other coup–” the lens view was obstructed by their teacher’s hoodie as you gave into his demands, cutting off his pathetic rant.

a loud groan was heard from shoko as she snatched back the camera and held it up to her unimpressed face and geto gagging. “i prefer it when they’re broken up,” she grumbled.

before megumi could interject and tell nobara to get out now (he didn’t care if yuuji teased him for his ‘need for beauty sleep’), the video ended and automatically opened onto the next one. his words were caught in his throat at the oh-so-familiar apartment.

“get that out of my face.” you were older now, only be a few years but there was a scar on your neck that hadn’t been there in any of the other videos. gojo’s laugh could be heard as he ignored your request and instead held it up high enough to capture you both in the frame.

“you don’t remember this old thing?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead, securing you before you could duck away from him.

“we’re twenty one stop acting like we’re ancient,” you crossed your arms in front of yourself as you accepted that maybe just possibly you didn’t quite the match the strength of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer.

“we may as well be. we’ve got two kids.”

your eyes widened and you shook your head, “we do not–”

“yn!” a small megumi appeared in the corner of the frame and you quickly shut up as gojo gave you an i-told-you-so look. “gojo said he’d help me with my maths homework. an hour ago.”

the smugness almost instantly vanished from the sorcerers face as you glared at him for once again avoiding his responsibilities. because apparently there was more to looking after children than feeding them and taking them out for the day as a reward when they beat up bullies in school.

“i’m a busy man megumi, saving lives, helping–” gojo winced as you elbowed him in the side, allowing you to slip from his grasp.

“ignore him megs, let’s go into the living room,” you said, ushering the small boy out of the room. two years of this and you were surprised that megumi even still bothered to give gojo a chance to act his age.

“don’t take my sweets!”

you halted megumi purposefully, “do you want gojo’s sweets?” the camera although kind of forgotten now, still had the young boy in view and picked up his smirk in full as he nodded.

“i’d love them.” gojo winced again, pretending like tears were about to start falling. as if though he couldn’t easily afford to replace anything they did eat by the thousands.

“perfect,” you exaggerated in a condescending tone. as the amazing parent that you were, you made sure not to forget about the other child that was staying with you. “tsu! do you want a treat?”

“yeah!”

“even better,” you clapped your hands together and gestured for megumi to continue on into the living room again. “have fun with your camera love. i’m very busy adulting here.”

“this isn’t over,” the white haired sorcerer shook his head, betrayal clear on his features.

you mouthed the words ‘i love you’, blowing him a little kiss as you disappeared around the corner. gojo gave you a fake grin, narrowing his eyes at the camera.

“jokes on them, i pay the bills. no more electricity for them.”

“you were so cute!” yuuji practically squealed as he and nobara jumped up

“your hair was so spiky!” nobara reached out to poke at his less bold spikes that he sported nowadays. they had earnt him his nickname of ‘sea urchin’ but still couldn’t beat his younger hairdo.

“can we meet her?” yuuji asked, the poor boy having been oblivious to any of the social cues that nobara already had. nobara coughed at his request, eyes flicking between the two boys.

megumi shook his head. “i think that’s enough for tonight. please, kugisaki,” he nodded his head towards the door. the girl gave him a quick salute, completing her secret handshake with yuuji before she grabbed the laptop and disappeared from their dorm back to her own.

the dark haired student ignored yuuji’s complaints as he dropped himself back onto his bunk bed, reaching for his phone. upon opening his messages, he scrolled to a contact and pressed on the chat.

all of the messages displayed on the screen were sent from him to the unknown contact. there was never a response, or even a read message. just ‘delivered’. he knew that if he scrolled up it would be much the same. the last message he’d ever received was one on his 14th birthday; a simple ‘happy birthday. i love you. i’m sorry’.

hi. we miss you. i hope you’re doing okay.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts

#snapshot !#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo imagine #gojo drabble #gojo fluff #gojo angst #geto x reader #shoko x reader #utahime x reader #jjk #jjk x reader

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sprout-fics · 4 months

Text

Danger Close

(Captain John Soap MacTavish x F! Reader)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: Explicit (18+) Minors DNI Wordcount: 3.8k Tags: Power imbalances, Unrequited pining, Shy Reader, Stuck in a lift, Dry humping, Dirty talk, Seduction, Praise kink, Vaginal fingering, Secret affair, Pet names Warnings: None (ask to tag) A/N: This is a quick little idea of the OG himself. I'll probably do more headcanon based ideas soon, but for now enjoy the filth

The thing about Captain MacTavish is that he’s…intimidating.

The self proclaimed red-blooded Scot is built like a brick shithouse, as one of your fellow officers once put it. Ruggedly handsome, strong, thick with muscle with coarse hair over his arms and stubble along his jaw. There’s a scar over one of his eyes, a slashing wound that should have blinded him. It crinkles slightly when he offers a lopsided smirk that taunts danger, that bares a reckless nature he hasn’t fully shed despite his years of experience. You tell your bunkmate that he’d make very good money as a bouncer at a nightclub, and her laughter nearly wakes up the whole hallway.

Intimidating.

Which is not necessarily the right word, you think. The Captain has a way around his men and fellow officers, an easy likeability that’s hard to ignore. He commands respect from his troops not in the way of brute posturing or snarling demands, but in the display of capability that has saved their lives many times over. He’s the firm touch on their shoulder as they check their gear before deployment, the firm reminder of level headedness over comms, the sharp, ringing command that cuts through gunfire when everything else has gone wrong.

The man exudes leadership, and you are among those helplessly drawn to it.

Yet there’s something closed off there that you can see in his eyes, an untold story that has drawn the lines of age in the corner of his steely gaze. It feels as if there’s an invisible barrier around him that prevents others from getting danger close. Magnetic, it pulls you in despite yourself, an inextricable attraction towards the nick of a blade you long to taste. Dangerous, like a moth to flame.

Not that you’ll ever do anything about it of course. As much as you daydream about the time you saw the captain’s broad back shiny with sweat on the sparring mats as he trained the other recruits, the low lilt of his accent that clouds your thoughts, you know it’s a terrible idea to develop a crush on your superior.

It’s hard not to, not when you deliver him his daily intelligence report in the afternoon, and he always makes sure to look up and greet you as you hand over the folder, smiling and offering: “Thank you, lass.”

Traitorous, you think, how your stomach devolves into butterflies just at the sight of his pleasant grin.

Worse is the fact that despite his gruff exterior the man is always such a gentleman to you. He gives you his full attention when you speak, ensures his other male officers do not interrupt or speak over you, holds open doors when you walk into the meeting room together, ensures his men don’t harass you just for your status of being a woman. You think it’d be easier if he was just as pompous and arrogant as his fellow officers, but instead Captain MacTavish has the ability to make you feel special, like you’re the only other one in the room with him.

It makes you feel a little guilty, admittedly- that he’s kind and decent and you constantly think about what it would be like to bend the rules so he can bend you over his desk.

Caught in fantasy as you are, you don’t notice the way his eyes watch you out of the corner of his eye, take note of you stretching on your toes to reach something in a filing cabinet, the way your brow scrunches in thought as you scrutinize his paperwork, the slight tremble of your hand when you pass him a cup of coffee in the mess hall, the duck of your head when he offers an amicable thanks.

You don’t notice the way he’s thinking anything but decent thoughts about you.

It’s hard to help. You’re a sweet, shy thing, and Soap is a man not immune to the charm of your bashful nature. He enjoys your wide eyed gaze as he selfishly sneaks gentle touches, a hand on your shoulder as he scoots past you in a crowded hallway, letting his fingers linger a little too long when you pass him a stack of files for him to sign off on, the barest little hitch of breathing he hears when he lets his voice dip an octave as he speaks.

“Thank ye, bonnie.” He tells you this afternoon, and relishes the way you repress a shiver at the endearment.

Later, when he catches you at your desk gazing dreamily into space, he enjoys the glassy tint of your eyes, and imagines you’re thinking of him.

And, secretly, he thinks what it would be like to have you mewling and trembling under his war-worn hands.

For all his decency and charisma, there is one thing you don’t know about the captain, and that is that he’s a wolf.

And you, you’re an adorable bunny waiting for the killing bite of his seduction.

Yet shy as you are, never to act on this, Captain MacTavish decides to take things into his own hands.

He has you move your desk to his office, helping him with his own paperwork, and offers to buy you lunch on the basis of being a good boss, a good superior. He ensures you have everything you need for your space and helps you pick out a better desk chair when you complain about the standard base ones hurting your back.

And if he uses his rank to ensure your colleagues and higher ups don’t complain? Well. That’s his business.

“Good lass.” He tells you in passing when you find a piece of intelligence he requested, offering a small squeeze of your shoulder and feeling you stiffen under him before exhaling unsteadily- unaware of his smug grin just behind your shoulder.

Cute, the way you think he won’t notice your little reactions, your dreamy eyes and the fantasies hidden behind them.

In all places, it comes to a head in a stuck lift.

The meeting is in fifteen minutes, and you insist on taking the lift because of the obstacle course drills you were put through yesterday, whining about your aching thighs. Soap, the good captain that he is, acquiesces and allows it, crossing his arms and watching the doors close-

Only for the lift to give a groan and shudder to a stop.

“Bloody old building.” He gripes, giving the doors a small kick in grumbling protest. “Told maintenance these things needed to be repaired months ago.”

He’s not concerned. Worse comes to worse, he’s crawled up through elevator shafts before. Besides, it’s not as if you’re on the eighth floor, merely stuck between the first and second. It’s an inconvenience, but not an inescapable or deadly one. He’s not as young as he once was, but this shouldn’t be too beyond him.

You, on the other hand, press the call button frantically, trying to ask for help and rescue. The operator is quick to tell you that mechanics and the fire brigade are on the way, and tells you to stay calm.

“How long are we going to be stuck in here?” You ask Soap, fidgeting. A nervous little filly, he thinks, as he eyes you with mild amusement.

“Maybe an hour.” He drawls, watching as your eyes go wide.

“We’ll miss the briefing.” You manage, a little choked, as if that is the gravest of your concerns, and not the thoughts Soap has about taking full advantage of the privacy he has with you.

“Aye.” He replies with a snort. “Shame, that.”

You make a little sound at that, something between petulance and despair, slumping into the wall as your face crumples.

“Hey, easy.” Soap offers, voice gentler now as he approaches you, gloved hands easily balancing you by your elbows across the wall. “It’s alright lass. We’ll be free in no time. Take a breath for me, aye?”

You nod at that, eyes turned towards the ground to avoid his gaze as you suck in a deep breath, hold it, and then let it out slowly.

“Good girl.” He purrs, unable to help himself, and relishes the way your eyes dart up to his, pupils blown wide as you realize for the first time just how close he is.

This is dangerous.

He’s got you crowded into the wall of the lift, all but blocking escape with his brawny frame. The shadow of his figure falls over your smaller form, dwarfing you. His hands cup you by your arms, bare fingers skimming along your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps rising in their wake. Your captain’s expression is calm, but even with the overhead light backlighting his face, you can see the intent, the scarcely concealed fixation there hidden beneath kind eyes and whispered only though a knowing smirk.

Prey in a snare.

“S-sir-” You manage, voice tight as you finally realize the true nature of his intent with the way he hums a low, deep note in his chest that makes you shiver.

“Thought I wouldnae ken you watching me, bonnie?” He asks in a low, rumbling intonation that vibrates at the base of your skull. “Sneaking looks and off with the faeries everytime I called you a good girl?”

“I-” You try, and it’s a useless effort really. You could summon a thousand excuses, but you know none of them would work on him. Captain Mactavish’s eyes are too keen, too knowing for that. If he’s seen this much, if he’s seen the way you daydream while he doesn’t look, the way you try desperately to quell your infatuation with him, then there’s no use trying to pretend otherwise.

"You like being called a good soldier? A good lass?” He goes on, and you bite down hard on a whimper of want that threatens to bubble up your throat. Your captain’s thumbs stroke the inside of your elbow gently, pressing down on the divot of sensitive skin and loosing an unsteady breath from your chest.

“Look at you wobbling like a wee fawn.” He purrs in that low lilt of his. “This isn't because of me, is it? Developing feelings for your superior. Tut tut. Naughty thing."

“Captain-” Your voice is a strangled thing in your throat, choked by the cognitive dissonance of this, of something straight out of your wildest fantasies, a secret you keep to yourself in the dark of your bunk with your fingers buried between your thighs.

John hums, allowing his eyes to roam down your form, gently caged into the wall as you are, eyes glimmering with a hunger you didn’t know he possessed- A wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“Tell me to stop.” He murmurs then, voice serious. “I won’t touch you. I’ll transfer you if that’s what you want.”

“No.” Your answer comes so quickly it surprises even you, and suddenly your fingers are gripping on the inside of his forearms as if trying to keep him from retreating. “...Please.”

He gives you a moment, then another to reconsider, to retract your agreement and shove him off you. When you don’t, your captain grins.

“Shy little bonnie.” He croons. “Didnae have the words to ask for what you wanted from your superior, did you?”

You shudder when his gloved palm cups your cheek, leaning instinctively into it, sweet and willing. His thumb presses down on the plush bed of your bottom lip, and it takes a moment of courage to part your lips, lean forward so it rests on your tongue instead.

The sound your captain makes is carnivorous.

Hungry, wanting, dark as sin as he watches you engulf the digit and make eye contact with him, as if tempting danger. He tastes like the steel like of a sharp blade, cutting through your senses and leaving crimson want dripping against your thoughts.

He removes his thumb so a drip of spit trails after it, and before it can spill your captain bends and kisses you.

It’s dizzying, all consuming, all open lips as he groans into you, one arm snaking around to the small of you back to balance you on wobbly legs, the other gripping your chin and directing you exactly how he wants you, tilting your head just so he can kiss you deeper. You feel unbalanced by the sheer force of it, leaving little choice but to clutch at his uniform, go a little limp in his arms and mewling into his open mouth.

“Aye, that’s it.” He groans between wet, sloppy kisses, dragging his teeth over your bottom lip and feeling you press back into him, eager for more. “Fuckin beautiful, hen.”

His warm breath spills against your open throat, where you think he might bestow a killing bite if you’d let him, groaning in appreciation at the raw, heady taste of you as he takes everything you can bear to give him.

“Sir-” You whine when he wedges a knee between your legs, hands planted firmly on your ass so he drags your clothed cunt over the rise of his thick thigh. “Oh God-”

“No God here, love.” He huffs as your head flops gently to the side, his words fanning across the shell of your ear so you shudder. “Just you an’ me.”

That might be for the best, you think. One less witness to the act of your captain defiling you the way you’ve dreamt of for longer than you care to remember.

Your captain’s hands grasp the fat of your ass as you give an experimental rock onto his thigh, stifling a little whimper as you do. It only makes him chuckle, dark and hungry into your ear as he nibbles on the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.

“C’mon lass, you can do better than that.” He huffs, and you feel him smile against your neck. “Go on, take what you need. Wanna feel you get off just from grinding on my leg like this.”

You’re not sure if you can, honestly, but gods above do you want to try.

You grab at his neck for support, pressing him further as he bows over you, engulfs you with the heat of his frame. Then you allow your knees to fold, letting him support the weight of you as you begin to drag yourself along his thigh.

The friction is delicious, sends your nerve endings alight with sensation as the pleasure of it spills past your lips with an open groan. You wonder if the mere act of this, of humping your superior’s leg like a cat in heat while he purrs praises into your ear, does more for you than the actual motion itself. Either way, you begin to feel a warmth unfurling in your core, cunt clenching down on a needing emptiness that has you bury a whimper into his shoulder.

“Thaaat’s it.” MacTavish- John, you wonder if he’ll let you call him, croons in your ear. “Lemme hear all those pretty noises, hen.”

You do, realizing there’s no one else to hear you. You give in, allow him to hear every hitch in your chest, every shuddering gasp and breathless plea of “S-sir-”

“Feel good?” He asks, hands kneading the swell of your ass as he helps rock you along his thigh. “Just imagine bonnie, could have had this weeks ago if you’d only let me.”

He’s right. If you’d only said something to him, had made a move on him, then you could have been having his low, Scottish lilt purr right in your ear as you try to get off ages ago.

But this is good too.

“Cannae even imagine how much it took for me not to pounce on you.” He huffs, pressing fluttering kisses against the thrum of your pulse. “All those sweet little looks you thought I couldn’t see, the way you were mooning over me like I wouldnae notice-”

“That’s- that’s not-” You try, managing to sound a little indigent despite your heaving breaths.

“Oh I know, bonnie.” He croons with a huff of laughter. “You were just trying to be a good soldier, didn’t want to get caught seducing your superior, aye? What would the other officers think?”

You whimper at that, clutching a little tighter if only out of a remnant pulse of shame. Yet John doesn’t let you stop, drags you more insistently over the bulge of his thigh straining through his pants.

“They don’t get to know.” He tells you, smirking. “They don’t get to know how sweet ye are like this, how pretty you look trying to come all over my leg, aye bonnie?”

You feel it rising inside you, feel your oncoming climax mount with every low rumble of words against your skin, with the way his scent clouds your senses so there’s nothing else but the sensation of him, the pleasure of you grinding your wet, empty cunt against his leg.

“C’mon, little one. Can feel you trying. What’dye need?” He huffs, and you shake your head into his shoulder.

“Empty.” You tell him in a little, shy whisper, face burning as you refuse to look him in the eyes. Yet a hand catches your cheeks, turns you up to his gaze so you have no choice but to look into his bright, glimmering stare.

“What was that?” He asks, and Gods, you think he may eat you alive. “Need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“E-empty.” You tell him a little louder, catching sight of the glassy eyed stare reflected in his eyes, feeling your legs shake with the effort of trying to hold your own weight.

“Oh poor wee lass.” John sighs, bending down to kiss you again, swallowing the little whimper that bubbles up your throat. “Dinnae fash, I’ll take care of you.”

He pulls away so quickly you nearly drop to the floor, were it not for the hand slung across your hip that keeps you upright. You hear the clink of a belt, and for a single hopeful moment you think maybe it’s his, only to groan in disappointment and need as he squirms his hand past your own waistband, slinking his fingers between your folds.

“Christ almighty, lass, you’re soaking wet.” He breathes, bracing his forehead against yours so you feel his warm huff of air on your swollen lips. “Just from this?”

Yeah. This. You want to tell him. As if ‘this’ isn’t something straight out of your wildest wet dreams, him easily handling you in close quarters, treating you with greedy hands and yet touching you as if you’re something prized, a beautiful weapon he’s admired from afar for far too long.

When he sinks a finger into you John groans a deep, resounding noise in his chest, open and appreciating the way your slick heat instantly clenches around his fingers.

“Fuck, the feel of you, hen.” He breathes as he pumps his fingers with deliberate slowness, as you whimper and writhe and try to force yourself down onto his hand to chase your just out of reach climax. “So warm and tight, cannae even imagine how you’d feel around my cock.”

“Please.” You gasp desperately, body flushed with want as you grind against his fingers, seeking to angle them just right. “Captain.”

The sound John makes is primal, and you’re given little warning before suddenly he’s plunging a second finger into you, giving you only a moment to adjust to the stretch before he’s setting a rapid pace that has you wail into his chest.

“Is alright lass, I got you. C’mon, wanna feel you cum all over my hand.” He growls, panting, entire body coiled tight as he pushes you further towards your climax. “I’ll fuck you proper after, promise. Just need to feel it when you come, wanna hear how pretty you sound, c’mon-”

It’s that thought, the one of him having you right here in the lift, bending you against the wall and fucking you just like this that makes you arch with a broken little shout, clenching down hard on his fingers as he slowly works you through it, murmuring sweet endearments down at you as you tremble. You feel your walls pulse around his thick digits, coating them in slick and you realize too late he never took his glove off.

You nearly buckle as the last pulse of pleasure pulses bright and powerful through you, clutching at him with a little whimper as you come down slowly. You’re warm all over, muscles flooded with a bright release that has you wobble where you stand. The pulse of your heartbeat echoes in your ears and you try desperately to catch your breath amidst it all.

And, naturally, that’s the moment when the lift starts moving again.

You almost entirely lose your balance when the floor beneath you jolts, squeaking as you lean fully into your captain. He doesn’t seem to be caught off guard at all. If anything, John seems amused at the sudden motion of the elevator, huffing a warm sound of disbelief up towards the ceiling.

“Think we’ll still be late for that meeting, bonnie?” He asks, grinning mischievously, as if he didn’t just make you come so hard your knees wobble.

“No sir.” You breathe, leaning back against the wall as he pulls his hand from your pants, leaning up and licking his fingers free of your wetness.

“Fuck.” You breathe helplessly, head flopping back. “You’re glove-”

He hums, as if just now realizing you stained the palm of his fingerless glove, pulling the velcro strap with his teeth as one hand balances you while you regain your strength.

“Keep it safe for me.” He tells you, jamming it into your front pocket as the lift whines to a halt. “Give it back to me later. After the meeting.”

After can mean a lot of things, you realize.

The lift dings pleasantly, and your captain hauls a brawny arm to keep the door open for you, ever the gentleman.

“Go on then lass,” He smiles, friendly and easygoing despite the knowing, hungry glimmer in his gaze. “Tell them I’ll be a few. Have to give the mechanics a talkin to.”

You nod, still a little shell shocked, a little disheveled, blinking dazedly as you scoot past him, then pause.

Checking the hallway, you twirl around and lean up to kiss him so you hear the little breath of surprise against your lips.

“After, captain?” You ask sweetly, blinking your lashes up at him and watching his pupils blow wide.

“After.” He declares, voice just as sultry, leaning down to nip teasingly in front of your face, fangs and all.

You sway off to the meeting, sneak into the back row and explain the hold up, and nobody looks at you twice, shy as you are. When your captain comes in five minutes later, only you notice the way he struts to the front of the room, smirking wide and assured as he briefs his men on their next target.

“Weapons hot, lads.” He declares, arms crossed, a smile taunting danger. “We’re danger close.”

#john soap mctavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #captain mactavish x reader #captain mactavish #captain mactavish x you #I saw a gifset and went a little feral apologies #This is also unbetad to hell so sorry for that too

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grandline-fics · 6 months

Text

All That I Need

DESCRIPTION: When your presence is all they crave

WARNINGS: some suggestive themes, some jealousy in Shanks’ mostly fluff overall

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro, Shanks| Sabo,Sanji

WORD COUNT: 1,413

A/N: Finally starting to feel better so I decided to finish this. Mostly indulgent and I hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

—————

LUFFY

Long before you and Luffy even got together you knew he was solely motivated by his wants, childishly so. He saw a platter of food meant for everyone? He’d eat it all before anyone else got a chance to grab a fork. Someone tried to tell him he was too weak to beat them? Luffy had the first punch thrown before they could blink. If he wanted something he was vocal about it. It was a simplistic way to be and at least you and the crew always knew how to keep your Captain happy. There was never any guessing, even when he was unconscious.

Of course once again he’d pushed his body to the limit to win a fight and now he was dealing with the consequences. Chopper had tended to his wounds and you approached his now sleeping form with a tired but proud smile. You were used to this but still you couldn’t help but worry about the strain his body was being put through time and time again. “You know once he wakes, he’ll be shouting for meat and jumping around like nothing happened.” Nami muttered like a disapproving mother as she left and you let out a small laugh.

Now close enough you lightly pushed the hair from his face, smiling to see that the mention of meat had made him grin in his sleep. Your worries all but left you now to see that. As long as he could smile, you would find the strength to do so too. You pulled your hand back and turned to leave the room, letting your significant -but reckless- other rest. Except you stopped when his hand clasped around your wrist. You turned in shock, he was awake already?

Your eyes widened to see that he was still unconscious. You were about to call for Chopper but all that could escape your lips was a gasp of surprise when you were abruptly pulled down onto the bed. Through muscle memory or pure instinct, Luffy lay with his arms around you the perfect balance of protectiveness and possessiveness in his hold. It was like this every night you both slept in your shared quarters. When his head lay against your chest while mumbling your name in in his sleep you smiled warmly, overcome with a sense of belonging and joy to know that you will always be something Luffy needed.

ZORO

Zoro was frustrated; his form was too tense, nothing was landing the way he wanted, the way he needed to. If he was to get stronger, to become the best this wasn’t good enough. If he was in an actual fight and not training he’d be losing. Angrily he swore and let his weights fall loudly onto the floor. Storming out of the Crow’s Nest he sought the one thing he desperately needed to make this frustration and tension go away. Listening intently he heard your familiar laugh sound from the kitchen and dining room. Striding in he saw you listening to Usopp telling a story of the crew’s adventures from the early days before you’d joined.

Just seeing you help Usopp cleaning up was enough to help his mood but still it wasn’t enough. He needed more, he craved you. Your warmth, your very essence and it was now he realised why he had felt so off. He hadn’t gotten enough of you today. With the watch rotations from the night before, usual morning chores, and then when Robin and Chopper had called you away to help them with their nonsense it had disrupted your usual time together completely. Now that he knew what his issue was, the solution was so simple. Wasting no more time he walked across the room with you in his sights.

You’d blinked in confusion when Usopp trailed off in the middle of his story and looked behind your shoulder. Slowly you turned and smiled at Zoro, believing he’d only stop his training midway through for food or an equally important emergency. “Hey, is everything okay? Do you need something?”

“Yeah. You.” Zoro stated firmly when he closed the distance. Before you could react, your boyfriend had his hands secured to your waist and pulled you forward so his lips could find yours, coaxing you into an increasingly hungry, intense kiss. Zoro savoured every moment of it, taking in every second and reclaiming the time he’d lost out on just being with you. As dizzying and as powerful the kiss was you could feel the shift in your lover; as subtle as it was you could tell he had been holding onto something that was making him more tense than normal. If this was what fixed it you weren’t complaining. When you finally pulled away to catch your breath, Zoro let out a huff of relief.

Now energised and focussed, Zoro threw you over his shoulder allowing himself a smirk when you yelped at the sudden action. Knowing it was pointless to even pretend like you wanted to struggle out of his hold you enjoyed the luxury of Zoro carrying you out of the kitchen and up to the Crows Nest so he could finish his training. Whether you remained on his shoulder or just sitting to the side and watching it didn’t matter to Zoro. As long as he had you in his vicinity, one of his main motivations for getting stronger that was all that mattered.

SHANKS

“If you think you’re looking cool and brooding over here, I hate to break it to you Captain you look more like you’re sulking.” Beckman laughed from behind his mug of ale. Shank clicked his tongue in annoyance and took a slow sip of his own drink, watching as you talked and laughed with the new recruits of the crew. You’d all decided to stay the night at one of the islands under your protection. The first time for the new recruits to get to terms with how the Red Haired Pirates did things beyond just sailing the seas. It also gave everyone a chance to unwind and enjoy some shore leave.

It was only natural that the new crew members would gravitate towards you, after all you were the go-between for them. You were the one they asked for help with things to avoid disappointing or angering their intimidating but inspiring Captain. They were still finding their place in the crew with the longer standing members and you’d promised them all it would take time and that they’d all been welcomed onto the crew for a reason. Still they all felt the most comfortable with you so far. Unfortunately your lover and Captain didn’t want to see it that way. He was jealous of them claiming your attention all the time and he missed you even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.

Shanks’ eyes met yours when you looked over to check on him. He tried to keep his expression level but clearly it wasn’t convincing enough because you swiftly but politely excused yourself from the group you were with and stepped up to where your Captain was sitting. Slowly you turned your head towards Beckman and jerked your head. A silent request for him to leave you both alone. As much as he’d love to stay and watch you expertly handle the Pirate Emperor he knew to give you both some sort of privacy and left.

With a tired sigh you slid into Shanks’ lap, throwing your legs over his and tucking your head under his chin. Wordlessly you took his mug of ale from his hand and coaxed his arm around your waist. “This is what you wanted right? Me all to yourself.” You asked with a smile before taking a sip of the ale. You knew Shanks better than most, he wouldn’t offer an explanation for his mood unless you started the conversation. His arm tightened around you and he chuckled softly.

“Can you blame me? Your very presence is utterly intoxicating to me. Why would I want to share my treasure with anyone?” Shanks asked and you rolled your eyes at his words with a small smile. You did want to remind him that he had nothing to be jealous about, everyone knew you were an item but still it was cute to have him still be like this after so many years together. “I mean it you know. I can’t get enough of you, need you more than breathing.”

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simplyholl · 28 days

Text

Reckless

Summary: When you act recklessly on a mission, Bucky gets mad at you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.

See My Masterlist Here

You had really done it now. You made Bucky so mad, he couldn’t even look at you. You were paired together for a mission, and you acted recklessly. You got separated from him and instead of waiting for him, you found the Hydra bunker where they were hiding.

You burst in without a plan and they would have most likely killed you. But Bucky came in and saved you. On the way back, he wouldn’t look at you, speak to you, or even acknowledge your existence.

It took a lot for him to get angry. So you didn’t know how you could fix this. You were such good friends, and he always made time for you. It was going on three days and he ignored every text, call, FaceTime, and knock on his door. You didn’t even know why he was so upset with you. You had done stupid stuff during missions before.

Finally you had enough of the silent treatment, so you waited until it was his normal time to train. He liked to work alone, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone else being there and interrupting you. You made your way to the gym, disappointed that he wasn’t there, nobody was.

You were just about to leave and come up with another plan when you heard someone in the men’s locker room. You hoped it was Bucky as you entered, the smell of soap filled the steamy room. Your sneakers squeaked with every step on the wet tile floor.

You heard Bucky singing some old fashioned song. Following his voice passed the lockers, you step over Thor’s discarded shorts. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the cleaners Tony hired. You see Bucky’s head peaking over the shower door. For a split second, you debate turning around. But you want your friend back more than anything, so you continue all the way to the showers.

“James, we need to talk.” Bucky jumps at the sound of your voice. “What are you doing in here? This is the men’s locker room.” He rolls his eyes, turning towards the spray of water. “You wouldn’t talk to me, I didn’t know when I’d be able to catch you.” He doesn’t answer, instead he picks up the shampoo bottle squirting some into his palm.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I just want you to talk to me.” He reaches up to wash the shampoo out of his hair, eyes closed. “I know you can hear me. Bucky, please?” You beg him but he continues ignoring you. He could be a real asshole when he wanted to. You set your phone down on the bench beside you. You reach down to take off your shoes then your socks.

You grab the handle to the shower door, letting yourself inside. Bucky’s eyes widen as he sees you in the shower with him. He makes an awkward attempt to cover his self. “Get out of here!” You walk over to him, “No! This is the only way to get you to pay attention to me!” You walk closer, “Tell me why you’re so mad at me.”

Bucky watches as the water sprays you, making your already tight workout clothes cling to your body. His throat bobs as he finally answers. “I’m not mad, I’m furious. You weren’t thinking. You never do. You went by yourself when you were told to wait, and if I hadn’t been close by, you would be dead.”

“I do stuff like that all the time, Buck. Why did it make you so upset?” Bucky takes a step toward you, removing his hands from his hardening cock. “Because I care about you! If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after that stunt you pulled.”

That was just the answer to send all your worries about crossing boundaries out the window. You press yourself against him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. When his lips met yours, it was like you were the only people in the whole world.

His metal hand makes quick work of your sports bra, ripping it right off you. The warm palm of his flesh hand meets your breast. He groans against your neck as his hands travel lower. He jerks your leggings off in one swift motion, throwing them to the side with a wet thud.

You were never so thankful that you didn’t wear panties as you were today. He reaches between you, long fingers dipping into you. You were so wet just from arguing with him, and he knew it. “All this from fighting with me, doll?” He smirks, knowing the effect it will have on you. You clench around his fingers as he curls them upward, his palm gently brushing your clit. “James” you moan, grasping his shoulders for support.

He removes his fingers from you, turning you around so fast that you don’t have time to register how empty you feel now. Bucky presses his body to your back, trapping you between him and the shower door. The cool door makes your nipples harden against it. You feel Bucky’s hard cock rub against the curve of your ass. You try to move to create some type of friction between you, but you can’t. His big body doesn’t budge. He uses his leg to spread you further.

You gasp as he thrusts into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before he plunges deeper, bottoming out. You claw at the shower door, as his thrusts grow brutal. His metal arm wraps around your waist, holding you where he wants you while his flesh hand grabs your chin. He tilts your face to look at him, “Are you going to do anything that stupid ever again?” He asks, his cock brushing that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

You can’t form words, it feels too good. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.” Your eyes are glossy, you try to answer but you only make sounds. “My pretty baby, she’s too cock drunk to talk. Is that it, doll? Is my cock too much?” You manage to whisper yes, sending his ego into overdrive.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel like I do. I’ll never touch you again, if you don’t follow orders. Am I understood?” Visions of his old army days flood your mind, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. “Y-yes sir.” You stutter. He seems satisfied with your answer, holding you closer to him. His fingers dig into your hip, no doubt leaving bruises, marking you as his.

He snaps his hips one last time, burying his face into your shoulder as he comes inside you. He stays like that for a minute, catching his breath before turning you around. He checks all over your body, his forehead wrinkling as he notices the multiple marks he left behind. “Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just so caught up in the moment-“

“It’s okay. I really liked it.” You confess. Bucky sighs in relief, bringing you back under the water, he starts to wash you. “Hey what about me?” Bucky smirks, “What about you, doll?” He washes down your arms. “I didn’t get off.” You state matter of factly. “Oh, I know. Only good girls get to cum.”

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck

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byuntrash101 · 17 days

Text

𖤐 𝕯𝖆𝖒𝖓𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝕾𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖙 𖤐

pairing — fem!nun!reader x sin of lust!seonghwa ft. ateez as the other sins

rating — smut | mdni

wc — 13.7k

synopsis — life is dull when you are an immortal being such as seonghwa. every day is the same and you live (or rather, merely exist) through the times crushed by the burden of boredom. until something new comes along in the form of a kind, compassionate and righteous newly ordained nun. and so the sin of lust makes it his personal mission to corrupt the purest of souls: yours.

nsfw tags under the cut

tags — *strap up babes this is a wild one*, a tad of plot, my attempt at humor, heavy religious/blasphemous themes (don't read if you're uncomfy <3), inclusive writing (reader is not physically described), also reader is the embodiment of purity, 20240127 hwa (moodboard here), kinda slow burn kinda vibes, so much tensionnn, mentions of a pxrn magazine, sooo much teasing, hot make out sesh, dom!hwa, also very sly demon!hwa, virgin!reader, supernatural sex, corruption kink (obviously), masturbation (f), oral (f), the (un)holy trinity =teasing, begging, mind breaking), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, some light impact play (kitty slaps + 1 face slap), breath play, hair pulling, fingering (f), monster cock!hwa, size training, pet names (angel, love, darling, sweetheart), praising, degradation (slut, whore), unprotected sex (don’t recommend), denied and ruined orgasm (f), dumbification, multiple orgasms (f), overstim, an ungodly amount of cum, cumflation, lil breeding kink at the very end

playlist — me and the devil by soap&skin, unholy by sam smith, going to hell by the pretty reckless, smells blood by kensuke ushio, american horror show by snow wife, toc toc toc by zazie

ateez masterlist | navigation

a/n: i had an absolute blast working over my fave fic ever posted. i love it even more now <3

also wanted to say a special thank you to @hwaightme who really helped me pulled through with one <3 ily bai <3333

Seonghwa was bored out of his mind. Like he had been for decades now, even centuries. He couldn’t remember what it was like to feel… well… anything at all really. And after years upon years of vegetating he didn’t care enough to even try anymore. He just laid there, endlessly staring blankly at the emptiness. He tapped his slender finger on his thigh, comfortably set on the bed of dark purple smoke he had materialized out of thin air.

He let out an audible annoyed groan as he was nonchalantly stretching out his long limbs which didn’t fail to catch the attention of the others.

“What’s wrong?” Yeosang asked as he was feasting on some delicious meal he poofed out magically. He didn’t even take a second to look up the bucket full of chicken drumsticks, wrapping his greasy fingers around the bone and eyeing the meat like one would their life long partner. But then again, that wasn’t too far from the truth for Yeosang.

“I’m bored” Seonghwa complained, pushing his long silky black hair back on his forehead and choosing to ignore Yeosang’s lack of interest, dragging out the word on his tongue, transmitting his state of utter apathy to the others.

“Why don’t you go up and play with the Humans?” Mingi suggested while checking himself out in the mirror, readjusting his bangs and sliding his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose before striking a pose to himself, remaining completely self absorbed.

Once again, Seonghwa wasn’t getting much attention from his counterparts but he was somewhat used to it when it came to Mingi.

“What’s the point? They are no fun anyways!” Seonghwa sat up straight and crossed his long elegant legs on the cloud of cotton like smoke.

“Why?” Jongho asked, unlike the others he deigned looking in Seonghwa’s direction with somewhat surprised eyes. “You used to love going around and breaking up happy marriages, luring men and women in with your charms… That was always fun!” He said a little sluggishly, but still with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

“Yeah… Maybe it was…” Seonghwa replied. “Two millenniums ago…” Another prolonged sigh. “When everything still felt fresh.” He got up from the comfortable cloud of smoke, pacing the endless void as his heels clacked and echoed with each step. “Now I know that Humans are only self centered vile creatures who only claim to have better morals than us because they are scared of the consequences that inevitably ensue from succumbing to their primal desires. When in fact, all they want is to eat, kill, have sex or not do anything at all. They are nothing short of underdeveloped, unevolved, spineless piles of meat”

“Meat? Where?” Yeosang said, finally lifting his head from the bucket of fried chicken to look around, eyes rounded in panic.

Not a single one of them reacted except Mingi who side eyed him with disdain before returning to more important matters at hand such as swapping the aviator sunglasses for narrower, more rectangular ones.

“That’s not entirely false” Jongho concluded, shrugging, easily giving up on the idea of comforting Seonghwa.

“I mean where’s the fun if you can’t break their minds to give in?” Seonghwa placed both hands on Jongho's shoulders, slightly shaking him while the latter lifelessly swayed back and forth. “What is the point if they don’t resist the call of evil? If you can’t erode their will like a rock made smooth by the incessant beating of the waves of the cruel sea.” Seonghwa huffed in a quiet, defeated voice, letting go of Jongho's shoulders to let his arms hang at his side while the other one stared at him blankly.

“Hm… okay” Jongho said before slipping off Seonghwa's reach to take his place on the fluffy bed of purple smoke, crashing head first onto the soft cloud.

A silence settled for what seemed like a long moment, even for them, immutable creatures to whom the very concept of time couldn't grasp at their permanence.

“Well you never tried with that girl…” Wooyoung said, slithering his way to Seonghwa without a sound. He had been watching the scene unfold from afar up until then. “What was her name already?” He snapped his fingers and looked to the side trying to access his memory. He turned to Mingi for help but he was too busy looking through the mirror, slipping on yet another dangling necklace and smirking, satisfied at the results. Wooyoung then tried his luck with Yeosang but he now had his face buried in a huge bowl of chicken broth, the empty bucket of fried chicken abandoned and slurping up a big mouthful of noodles in a rather unpleasant way. “Jongho?” he called, finally settling for the one that looked almost passed out on the bed of smoke, but still this one wielded the most positive result.

“Y/n” Jongho responded without conviction, still laying flat on the cloud of smoke, eyes growing heavier by the second.

“Yeah! That’s right!” Wooyoung exclaimed. “That girl is unbreakable,” he affirmed. Seonghwa scoffed and threw an unconvinced look to his peer.

“No really! I’ve tried to corrupt her but I really couldn’t”. Wooyoung said, raising his brows and talking loudly to support his point. But that did little to persuade Seonghwa, he was convinced that Wooyoung was just not as good as him at breaking the mortals’ souls. So yes, it was possible that Wooyoung had struggled with that girl. But not him, surely not him.

When Wooyoung saw Seonghwa was not budging his face dropped, and he turned to the others. “Please someone back me up on this one”

“Oh yeaaah… I remember her” Yeosang said, voice cut by various sounds of loud lips smacking and open mouth chewing. “Even I tried!”

Now, that was different. Seonghwa was interested. Most people are quick to indulge themselves when it comes to food. It was, so to speak, the easiest sin of the seven to succumb to. The Humans often say “there’s always room for dessert” and innocently eat a generous slice of cake after devouring a full meal. They don’t even notice Yeosang forcing the big spoon full of buttery sugary goodness into their mouths. They don’t even know Yeosang, himself, made this saying.

“She refused to even do as much as taste the delicious meal I made her sister cook for her even though she was starving… instead she gave it to the homeless man living not far from her apartment.” Yeosang stated with aberration shaking his head in disappointment before plunging right back in the ramyeon bowl.

“Hmmm” Seonghwa scratched his chin, his curiosity for the mysterious righteous girl was piqued.

“One day I tried to make her give in” Jongho chipped in from the dark purple smoke bed, even pushing himself on his elbows to look at the others, to Seonghwa’s surprise. “Made her miss the train and the bus she needed to take to get home after work and conveniently laid a juicy wallet stuffed full of even juicier bills in the gutter. All she had to do was to bend down and get the money to take a taxi to her apartment. But instead she took the money and walked to the police station to report the lost wallet, which was in the opposite direction by the way and then walked back home only to take a shower and leave right after to attend the charity soup kitchen. Anddd… Explaining this made me tired. Please don't talk to me for the next two hundred years, thank you.” Jongho concluded in one single breath before laying back down and turning on his side to nap comfortably.

“Maybe that one can be interesting after all” Seonghwa thought aloud, his pretty face taking on a pensive frown, his sharp brows joining on his forehead.

“Yeah no kidding” Wooyoung added. “And you don’t know the best part yet…” A perfidious and sly smile pulled on his handsome features. “She was just ordained nun.”

Seonghwa’s face turned serious as his eyes snapped back to Wooyoung. All of a sudden the girl went from distraction of the day to possibly the ultimate challenge of corruption Seonghwa has been waiting for god knows how long (and he surely did not use the expression lightly).

“Don’t mess with me, Envy!” Seonghwa spat, suddenly calling Wooyoung by his biblical name, testifying the gravity of his statement.

“I’m not kidding, Lust” Wooyoung mocked Seonghwa’s serious tone by also using his sin name. “She decided the life of material things wasn’t the way to happiness so she devoted herself to a humbler one, gifting her time and belongings to the poor and destitutes while she devoted her body to God. God only…” Wooyoung said, feigning nonchalance while he snaked an arm around Seonghwa’s shoulders. “Look… Here she is” he purred in his neck.

With a flick of his wrist, green smoke emanated from thin air and formed a pierced circle where in the middle the reflection of a girl could be seen. She was quiet, in the very humble room, a single window shone down onto the bed as she knelt at its side, palms joined, retreated into silent prayers.

She’s perfect.

That was Seonghwa’s first thought as an obscene smirk tugged at his mouth, his tongue swiping across his lips making them shiny and wet. He eyed the girl kneeling by the bed as he lowered his chin, one strand of hair falling over the piercing siren eyes. The black and white uniform she was wearing, the habit, couldn’t fool the seasoned eyes of Seonghwa. All the fabric in the world couldn’t hide away the glorious curves of her body, the beautiful arch of her back leading to the roundness of her bottom gently resting on her heels. The holy swells of her chest softly lifting the thick black material of the habit and the simple wooden cross held by humble twine she was wearing around her neck.

Divine.

Was what described her best.

“She’s stunning,” Seonghwa huffed in a soft murmur, mesmerized and captivated by the image Wooyoung was showing him. And he smirked in victory, relishing on the way he had convinced his peer, once again living up to his name and very nature.

“Yeah I know.” Mingi said, finally turning his face away from his reflection to address Seonghwa. “I thought with such a pretty face she’d be easy to convince that she’s above everyone else and just make her a pretentious too-far-up-her-own-ass bitch. But I quickly realized she was a lost cause” he concluded, shrugging and stepping away from the mirror, sitting down next to Jongho, already fast asleep only to materialize another handheld mirror. seconds later.

“Yes…” Seonghwa spoke softly as he stared intensely at the girl. “She just might do.”

***

You were on cleaning duty at the church today after the mass. Even if the church was quite big it didn’t intimidate you. You settled the two buckets of warm soapy water and your floor cloth before tying your hair up in a rather unaesthetic but very practical hairdo and stretched your shoulders before giving yourself a determined little nod.

You started with scrubbing the ancient cobblestone of the old church with soap and a lot of elbow grease. Then you immediately followed up with dusting the chairs, the altar and the numerous effigies.

You diligently washed, dusted, scrubbed, cleaned, polished, until everything was neat and right. Simply happy and content with the idea of being useful to the community. The rhythmic sounds of your hard bristle brush against the pavements were setting the pace of the silence which helped you connect to the spiritual nature of the ancient place of worship.

But as you were tidying the confessional booth you noticed a small piece of colorful paper peeking from underneath the bench lined with worn burgundy red velvet. When your hands reached under the seat and hazardly caught the object you knew it was a magazine from the glossy feeling of the paper underneath your fingertips and when you finally let your eyes fall on it you realized the nature of the magazine.

Porn. A pornographic magazine.

The cover displayed several nude women adopting very suggestive poses, one of them even dangerously leaning her face towards the intimate parts of another one.

The obscene imagery made your heart race and you started to feel dizzy. You sat yourself on the bench and rested the lewd magazine in your lap. You took a deep breath and, very slowly, parted the red curtains to make sure you were alone in the church. Then you opened the magazine and flipped the cover page.

“Oh my… Look at that! She is flipping the pages!” Yeosang exclaimed.

“Oh she’s definitely curious about it,” Mingi laughed, his lips stretching into a satisfied half smile. But Seonghwa was more cautious, he refused to believe it just yet. Something about your body language was not right.

“Shhh” he shushed the others and motioned for them to keep looking through the green smoke.

As your fingers glided across each page. You felt hot in the face with each scene more obscene than the last one, tension building in your neck.

Seonghwa didn’t lose sight of you for a second, his lips curling on his teeth in a vicious smile as your trembling fingers went over every single page, your wide open eyes darting to every corner of each page. He could almost hear your heart thumping in your chest he could almost taste the adrenaline in your blood.

When you came to the end of it and closed out the magazine you sighed, letting your shoulders drop, closing your eyes in relief.

“Well…” you started “nobody left their name in it” you said to yourself, completely unaware the demons were spying on your every move. Not that you expected that anybody would leave their signature in such a piece of literature but still you had to at least try to find the rightful owner before taking actions.

A loud complaint erupted from the demons. All in disbelief. You looked at the magazine, true. But it was not for an impure purpose. It was only in the hopes of finding the name of the true owner and hopefully, returning it back to them. You had no interest in the salacious scenes presented in the glossy pages. The rushing blood to your cheeks wasn’t due to any feeling of arousal or libidinousness. It was only the shame of invading someone’s privacy.

Once again your intentions were completely commendable. Immaculate.

As the demons protested and complained, Seonghwa, on the other hand, stayed completely silent as he watched you bring the magazine to a trash bin without an ounce of regret. He wasn’t disappointed, he was excited. He felt excitement. A feeling so distant and faded that it felt foreign. Seonghwa had forgotten all about this thrill. He didn’t remember how tingles tickled the tip of his cold fingers or how his guts swirled around in frenzy. This feeling was joy. Pure joy. Sweet intoxicating euphoria. And it was all thanks to you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you” he whispered to you, as if you could hear him, his eyes glued to the reflection in the pierced circle of deep green smoke, he whispered to the image of the unsuspecting girl discarding the impure magazine. A paltry, too poor of a stratagem to have you yield to the darkness. You, the pious and saintly nun.

***

You never really liked cooking, before you joined the covenant your sister was always the one in the kitchen preparing delicious home cooked meals for the family. But what you did like on the other hand was helping. Usually you cleaned up the kitchen but when your sister was running out of time she would ask you to peel the vegetables or cut them. So naturally cutting the vegetables was not your favorite task around the convent. You liked cleaning and tidying up better. Only because you were more on the active side and you liked how cleaning would make you break up a sweat when the whole monastery needed a dust off but nonetheless what you liked most was to help the community. And knowing the soup you were cooking up with the help of two of your sisters was going to feed everyone was a fulfilling feeling. Well enough to make you happy.

So you were contemplating life cutting off the homegrown zucchinis when Sister Chaeyoung started to giggle. You didn’t pay much attention until Sister Nayeon started to snicker along with her.

You lift your eyes up and the both of them instantly stiffened up and started to act suspicious.

“What are you laughing about you two?” you asked, an amused smile playing on your lips.

“Oh nothing” Nayeon said, hiding something behind her back.

“Come on, I want to laugh too” you said, the smile spreading further on your face, lifting up your cheeks adorably.

You three were the youngest in the convent so you did many duties together, you grew quite close with the girls.

Chaeyoung ripped something from Nayeon’s hand and proudly showed it to you.

“Look at this carrot” she said, puffing an adorable laugh.

It was true the carrot had quite the… interesting shape. First of all it was quite large, abnormally thick for a simple carrot. Homegrown vegetables were never like the perfectly shaped ones you could find at the store and it was definitely the case for this one. It had a slight upward curve and the extremity had a very distinctive shape. It was phallic.

You delicately took the vegetable from the hands of Chaeyoung to examine the orange root closely.

It was almost unnatural how close the resemblance was, like it couldn’t be due to fortuity… The thick tip, the robust and curved upright shaft, the asperities reminiscent of the blood engorged veins, even the small slit at the top… The details were impressive.

“Look look” Mingi exclaimed, nudging Seonghwa in the ribs as he observed you through the green fog. “She looks interested. I think she’s done this time”. He declared self-assured, cocking a single eyebrow. But Seonghwa remained completely silent but a smirk pulled on his lips when he noticed how you were eyeing the forbidden vegetable (no pun intended), how your throat seemed to thickly swallow and how your lip slightly trembled.

It felt so empowering, finally getting to chip away at your strong willed spirit, finally getting lust to creep under your skin. For these long seconds of contemplation, Seonghwa could only imagine the wicked places your mind raced to. But right when he was about to open his mouth and declare victory. You laughed.

Seonghwa’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as this laugh ripped through him, like a dagger through the skin.

You laughed so openly, your head hung back, eyes creased. The laugh was like the rest of you, joyful, clear and pure.

You are only amused by such a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Of course it was funny and you were never the stuck up kind and it felt right to have a bit of lighthearted fun with your younger sisters.

“I guess she’s only laughing at your stupid tricks,” Wooyoung said, his sly smirk mocking Seonghwa’s failure.

“Fuck off Wooyoung” Seonghwa spat as he watched the scene unfold.

The three of you just laughed, enjoying this bonding moment together while the stricter, older sisters and the Mother Superior weren’t there to dim down your childish and silly amusement. It was just some playful, innocent humor to you.

Nothing to shake your faith or virtue.

“Now let’s finish up the soup, girls” you said, setting the amusing carrot on the cutting board. Before chopping it up and tossing the pieces in the big pot.

“Maybe we should have kept it” Chaeyoung whispered with pouty lips. “It could have been useful.”

“Don’t be silly,” you replied with a smile.

Seonghwa felt anger bubbling up in his stomach and rushing through his veins to burn down his chest and neck. As much as he hated to admit it… Wooyoung was right, these stupid tricks were no match for the unwavering righteousness of your mind. These would certainly suffice if it was any other soul but not yours. Not you.

So Seonghwa resolved to resort to drastic measures. Something he hasn’t done for centuries. But something necessary. This anger he felt, the deception upon failing once again. He hadn’t felt that in so long, he felt alive finally. It was ironic how an immortal soul would forget how to feel alive for the simple reason that nothing is a threat to their existence. Their presence is immutable, infinite, certain. Therefore unexciting, monotonous and lifeless.

The negative feelings reminded Seonghwa of a purpose he once had, they reminded him of the stakes that used to be. In a way you reminded Seonghwa what it felt like to feel. You reminded him what it meant to be alive. Him, the unholy and vile Sin of Lust.

***

“You cannot be serious,” Hongjoong exclaimed, rubbing the deep crease between his eyebrows, this conversation was starting to give the Guardian of the Gate a headache.

“I am most certainly serious,” Seonghwa assured. “Now is the best time.”

“Why?” Hongjoong asked. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you through unless you give me a solid explanation.”

“Come on Joongie~” Seonghwa said innocently smiling at him leaning on the smaller man in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and tilting his head adorably. “You and I go way back, right?”

“Your ways have no power against me, Lust. You know that.” Hongjoong just looked at him scornfully. “Now if you don’t tell me your plan I’ll shut the gates for the next century.”

“What has this place come to? We used to be able to go and play with humans all day and not get questioned,'' Seonghwa complained, throwing his hands in the air and slipping away from Hongjoong. But the latter didn’t budge. “Fine” Seonghwa spat.

“You see my dear friend, today she’s ovulating. Her body is most likely to respond to the primitive instinct of the survival of the species. Meaning that her spirit is most likely to be weaker.” Seonghwa explained his reasoning.

“But how do you plan on actually interacting with her? You know you won’t be able to have physical contact, you'll go through her like a ghost. Unless she summons you. And I don’t see how or even why she would call your name three times” Wooyoung pointed out, as he was watching the feud from afar.

“I know that I’m not stupid” Seonghwa said with an eyeroll and a sigh. “I won’t need to touch her to break her” he assured.

“But how if she can’t even see you?” Hongjoong yelled, ready to pluck the hair out of his head. Seonghwa was about to become the Guardian's breaking point.

“Hey relax, okay” Seonghwa said, slipping behind the man and gently pinching the muscles of his shoulders. “You are starting to look like San.”

“What did you say about me? “ San yelled from across the empty space, interrupting his card game with Yunho.

“Just play” Yunho instructed with a monotonous fed up tone, pointing his chin towards the deck of cards.

“This game is stupid anyways!!” San screamed before flipping the table over in a loud grunt as the cards flew everywhere, floating gracefully to the ground. Yunho sighed deeply.

“He always does this…” he whispered to himself, getting off the chair and walking to Hongjoong and Seonghwa as Jongho was peacefully snoring close by.

“How can he sleep through this?” Yeosang looked at Jongho in disbelief, as he was stuffing more cheesecake into his mouth. Yunho scoffed.

“How can you eat through this?” Yunho underlined and Yeosang just shrugged before smiling with his mouth still full, earning disgusted grunts and complaints from the others.

“Can we focus for one minute here?” Hongjoong interrupted, desperately trying to get back on track. “How are you going to corrupt her if she can’t see you?”

“Oh but she will see me” Seonghwa smirked.

“Not in the monastery she won’t, not on sacred ground” Wooyoung mocked his overly confident tone.

“It’s true, you know” Yunho chipped in, putting his large palm on Seonghwa’s shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m about to say that but… I think you’re being greedy” Yunho concluded, as Seonghwa whipped his head to him.

“Wow… That’s so out of character for you.”

“Well that should speak volumes about the foolishness of your plan” Yunho shrugged, taking his hand back.

“It’s not foolish because she will see me. For the simple reason that she will invite me in” Seonghwa’s smirk grew wider as silence settled in the unholy space between hell and earth. Wooyoung laughed hysterically, holding his ribs as he wiped off a tear in the corner of his eyes.

“And how will you manage that?” Hongjoong asked with a raised, unimpressed eyebrow.

Just then a chiming sound could be heard in the emptiness. Seonghwa fished out of his pocket a small human device. All in the room looked incredulous As Seonghwa smirked at the small screen illuminating his pretty face.

“Since when did you-” Hongjoong started but Seonghwa simply brought his long pointer finger to his lips and shushed him.

“She’s waiting for me”

***

“A disaster” Mother superior exclaimed as she threw her arms at her side, looking at the flooded basement. “We cannot go to the retreat and leave until the problem is fixed. The humidity can damage the foundations of the monastery. “I’ll stay and sort it out.”

The sisters all let out frustrated sighs.

“You should go Mother” you stepped in. “The sisters need you at the retreat as well as the faithful… I’ll stay and get things in order. You can count on me” you said with a determined nod and a smile, tightly holding the wooden cross on your chest.

As much as you wanted to go. Someone needed to stay, that much was undeniable and the wisdom of the Mother Superior was needed at Lourdes. So it wasn’t without a little sting at the heart that you waved goodbye to a bus full of your friends, your sisters.

You went back in and sighed at the mess. The ancient timber beams were slowly soaking up the stagnant water, the old stones of the walls were being eroded and the humidity was not good news for the cheeses you were maturing, not even mentioning the ruined mushrooms you were about to harvest before the disaster. Of course the boiler was old and rustic but Mother Superior always made sure it was checked annually and repaired when it was needed before any damage could be done. But even the most diligent measures sometimes can’t prevent the unforeseeable hazards of life.

You went back up and searched for a plumber in the local newspaper. Luckily there was an ad for one that was living in town.

Park, plumbing/heating engineering at your service, the flashy ad read.

You looked at the time, it was late afternoon, probably a little too late to take up a new job, but you figured there was still hope he could at least pick up the phone and maybe appoint a day to come have a look at the leakage. You didn’t waste anymore time and dialed the phone number in the ancient and only phone located in the Mother Superior’s office.

As the tone rang you suddenly got nervous. Ever since you joined the convent you didn’t interact much with the outside world except the followers coming to church or the people you were helping. So this upcoming conversation was making you agitated.

“Hello, Park, plumbing and heating engineer, how can I help you?” You are surprised by the voice at the end of the line. You never expected such a smooth, melodic voice to pick up the phone.

“H-Hi! I’m Sister y/n from the Monastery of the Sacred Mission, our basement flooded, we think the boiler possibly needs to be replaced. Is it possible for you to come take a look?”

“Oh! Sorry to hear that. I’m guessing much damage has been done…” his concerned tone somewhat eased your nerves.

“Unfortunately yes”

“I see… I can come right now”

“Really?” you blinked your eyes twice in surprise. “Well that would be marvelous” you said cheerfully “but wouldn’t you be working past hours? I fear there’s quite a lot of work” you ask concerned.

“It’s okay. You help others so much. Now it’s my time to help you” his tone changed, a subtle switch you can’t put into words but the difference sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you”

***

“Thank you so much for coming this quickly” you thanked the man as he stood in the impressive frame of the heavy convent door.

You took a step aside to let him in but he just stood before the front steps not moving an inch. You threw him a puzzled look but he just stared back blankly at you. There was a moment of hesitation on his behalf that left you quite perplexed.

“Please come in” you hesitantly said while amicably smiling at the man.

“Thank you” he simply responded, almost sounding relieved.

As soon as he stepped foot in the door frame you felt a cold breeze run on your neck under the habit and shivers run down your spine. Autumn was indeed well advanced now but such cold winds were usually never felt before winter. Of course, you made little of a simple gust of wind.

“Hi. I’m Sister y/n. Nice to meet you” you stuck your hand out to him. He looked down at it and fumbled with the tool boxes but opted for a polite nod instead of a handshake.

“Sorry, I’ve been working all day and my hands are dirty” he laughed nervously “and the name is Seonghwa” he flashed the brightest smile you have ever seen. For a second your heart skipped a beat and a foreign feeling blossomed in your chest. You never expected this unknown plumber to be this handsome.

He had long and shiny raven black hair perfectly framing his face and just as healthy thick eyebrows complimenting the dark, round and benevolent eyes, reminiscent of boba pearls. A long elegant neck, a defined jawline, high cheekbones and tanned olive glossy skin.

His body was cladded in an unbuttoned navy blue overall that let peek out a simple white t-shirt underneath. You could tell the outfit had undergone various difficult jobs as the fabric was thinned out at his knees and had various stains of paints and plaster.

He looked like a kind man. Like the kind of person you would give communion to without confession. The kind of person that just has a good heart. It was that kind of reassuring and warm aura that you felt from him, something that put you at ease right away.

You led him to the faulty boiler.

Right away he got on one knee and started to inspect the recalcitrant piece of machinery.

“Well I’ll leave you to work on your own” you said as you retreated to take your leave. Seonghwa only politely nodded and smiled in your direction before turning his attention back to the problem.

While the plumber was working you put your time to good use and organized the paperwork of the Mother superior. Doing such work was always tedious for her because she wasn’t exactly the organized kind of woman but you were. You knew doing that you would be of great help. Since the task was quite large, it took quite a long time and it’s only when your stomach emitted a loud grumble that you realized the evening was well advanced.

You figured Mr. Park was hungry or at the very least thirsty after working for so long. So you grabbed a metal tray and brought him a set of the specialty sugar cookies the convent was selling along with a generous serving of cold water embellished with a dash of freshly squeezed lemon juice to make sure Mr. Park’s thirst would be thoroughly quenched.

When you passed the archway that was leading to the boiler room your heart nearly stopped beating when your eyes met the working man.

Swiftly you spinned on your feet and hid behind the wall, only peeking an eye out the corner to still be able to witness the novel scene taking place in front of you.

Seonghwa had tightened the sleeves of his blue overalls around his waist and was wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, clearly the labor was not restful. You couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from the leaking water but his white t-shirt was wet and sticking to his skin, making the fabric lightly translucid. You could guess the dark pinkish color of his nipples and the outline of his well built body underneath. The short sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up and were tightly hugging his arms while his long fingers were wrapped around a wrench as each twist of his wrist was making the veins of his forearm bulge out.

You loudly gulped down a lump in your throat. Your hands tightly held onto the tray in fear of letting it fall to your feet.

But your misery was far from over because before you could realize it Seonghwa was pulling on his shirt and passing it over his head. Every muscle of his back moving around, contracting and relaxing in a beautiful dance, shining under the golden hour sun seeping through the small single window of the basement. Water and sweat was running down his back and at his flanks, when he turned around, your eyes dashed around his naked upper body. You couldn’t decide where to settle them. His collarbones, his pecs, his abs, the dent at the sides of his abdomen, his (very) low resting overalls…

Your heart was about to give out. You had seen male bodies before, never in real life that was true but you did once or twice on TV or on billboard ads of men’s underwear.

But, never, you felt something like that. That feeling. This tingly feeling budding in the low pit of your stomach, making your guts stir around, making your palms sweaty, making your heart helplessly hammer against your ribs, making your eyes widen as you couldn’t peel them off the naked wet skin of the handsome stranger. This feeling of immoral interest for another person’s body, this longing for somebody else’s touch.

This feeling of Lust.

It was completely foreign to you.

If it wasn’t for Seonghwa you would have chugged the whole carafe of lemony water by yourself because you never felt your throat as dry as it felt right now.

“Look! Look!” San shouted, wrapping a strong hand around Wooyoung’s forearm and making him wince in pain as they both stared at you through the green smoke. “Y/n is giving in!”

“Look at the way she’s staring at him!” Yeosang said, briefly reaching for a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“Wow” Yunho added “She definitely isn’t thinking about church-appropriate things”. Yunho laughed but Mingi scoffed.

“If she likes him, wait till I show my human form. I’m infinitely more good looking than him”

“Not everything’s about you, Mingi” Yunho scolded him.

With trembling hands you settled the metal tray onto the window sill. You poured a glass of water and presented it to Seonghwa.

“Here” you unexpectedly manage to keep your voice calm and steady. “I figured you might be thirsty or hungry.”

“Oh thanks” he said, wrapping his hand around the glass, carefully avoiding touching your hand in the process, probably trying not to get sweat and dirt smeared on you. “I just got done actually”

“Oh wonderful” you exclaimed, maybe a little louder than expected. Maybe eager to get rid of that immoral feeling that was awakened by his presence. Seonghwa cocked an eyebrow and gave you a puzzled look at the unexpected outburst of joy.

“Why? Are you impatient to throw me out?” he smirked, pushing his long and soaked hair back as he took a step closer, doe eyes narrowing, becoming sharp. You did your best to lock your eyes with his, not to let them wander down his still half naked body. Seonghwa didn’t make any effort to cover himself. Your heart seemed to be trying to break through your rib cage to get a chance to beat closer to Seonghwa’s chest.

“No, it’s just that…” you took a step back “you have been working for so long you must be wanting to go back to the comfort of your home” you quickly get back on your feet before smiling politely at him, trying to conceal your uneasiness.

“Why?” he asked tit for tat, taking a step closer again, siren eyes bored deep into yours, trying to lull you in. “No one is waiting for me at home.”

Seonghwa heard the faintest little gasp escape your lips and he knew you were shaken. You, the unwavering nun, the faithful saint. You were at last considering him. Contemplating giving in to the primal and lowly instinct of desire.

Seonghwa sensed it. He saw it in the way you hurriedly licked your dry bottom lip, he saw it in the way your eyes darted between his lips and his eyes, he saw it in the way you stopped backing away from him.

You, y/n, you were giving in to pure sensual need. No love, no sentiment involved. Only desire to feel a complete stranger’s body against yours, only pure, untainted lust.

If only he could touch you. If only he could, it would be so much easier to help you gently fall into the welcoming and serene arms of corruption. But he couldn’t and that was making the whole experiment that much more exciting. He had to use deceit and trickery. Like a siren numbing your mind with a beautiful song.

But if you gave the slightest hint of submitting, if you let your guard down and let him into your heart then he would have won and that was all that mattered. If you tilted your head and you puckered up your lips to kiss him, if you took a step towards him to press your body against his, if your lifted your hand to feel his wet, glistening skin under your fingers, if you did anything to welcome the unholy desire, if you opened yourself to lust, then touching you would have been unnecessary because Seonghwa would have won and you and God would have lost.

And victory was oh so close. So close when he was as near to you as he could. So close when he slowly approached his face to yours. So close when your heart was pumping scorching hot blood through your veins, so close when your mouth started to water, so close when your lips started to quiver, so close when your eyelid started to flutter but…

Again, you stepped back.

“WHAT?!” San shouted.

“No way!!” Yeosang added, staring at your unsuspecting reflection in the green smoke.

Seonghwa’s shoulder dropped along with the satisfied little smirk.

“Thank you for fixing the boiler this quickly, Mr Park” you said, averting your eyes, finally breaking the spell he had casted on you and peeling your eyes off him.

Seonghwa had cried victory too soon. He had counted the chicken eggs before they hatched, he had put the cart before the horse. In other words… he had underestimated you.

He underestimated your will, your faith and your unwavering sense of righteousness. The other Sins had warned him though but he didn’t listen. They told him it was impossible to bend you. All of them had tried before and none succeeded so it was undeniable now that Seonghwa was just going to join them in failure.

“Don’t worry about it” he smiled at you, disappointment peeking behind his shiny brown orbs.

Seonghwa had accepted defeat when you led him back to the door of the convent. He walked away but turned around half way only to see your still body standing straight in the doorframe, perfectly incarnating your strong, unbending mind.

You only politely smiled when you pushed the big heavy door with difficulty, finally closing it in with a loud thud.

“Fuck… I guess Seonghwa failed too…” Yunho stated as he watched you close the door. But Wooyoung looked at you with a knowing grin.

“I’m not so sure…” he said as the smirk tugged further at his lips.

***

When you finally escaped Seonghwa’s taunting eyes, you leaned your back on the sturdy door, your spirit drained, your mind exhausted. You closed your eyes to catch a breath but the only thing you could see was the working man’s godlike figure carved onto your retinas, the translucent white t-shirt clinging to his golden skin, the sweat dripping down his temples and wetting the beautiful long strands of black hair, the bulging veins of his forearms and the dents engraved at both side of his lower stomach. And the more you thought about it, the quicker your breathing got.

You were all alone here… Your sisters and Mother superior were all gone. What wrong could it cause if you gave in just this once? Not that much, right?…. Just this once.

With big strides you walked to the kitchen and handpicked a nicely shaped carrot, almost regretting not listening to Chaeyoung and keeping that other one.

But this one was going to do the trick. It was not too thick and just long enough to help you carry out your shameful business but not too big to actually taint you and strip you of the precious veil of chastity that you managed to keep intact all of these years.

You climbed up the stairs with haste, avoiding the marble eyes of the holy figures represented in the halls only to take refuge in your bedroom.

You slipped out of your shoes and laid on your bed. You didn’t even bother taking the habit off, it wasn’t going to take long anyway, you simply pulled it up.

When you slid off the white panties you realized how soaked you were. You couldn’t believe it. Your whole life you’ve never felt this way, the feeling was overwhelming and needed to be dealt with immediately. Yes, that was what you were doing simply ridding yourself of an impure feeling!

You whipped out the orange root and clumsily rubbed the thinner tip on yourself. The cold sensation took you aback and pulled a small gasp from your lips.

You coated the root with your juices and then you aimed it at your entrance. You slid the carrot inside, it was too thin to hurt in any way but it was well long enough. When you reached the bottom of yourself you couldn’t help but to let out a satisfied grunt at the sensation of the vegetable rubbing against your sensitive spot.

You pulled it back out and slid it back in, this time a little faster. Heat gained over your body as your eyes fluttered close and you recalled the unfairly handsome and devilishly sexy working man.

The muscles of his back, his long slender neck, his collarbones, his beautiful sun kissed skin.

“Aaah” you sigh. “Seonghwa” his name rolled off your tongue so naturally, almost like it was meant to be said like this.

His long and dark wet hair, his plush lips getting close to yours, his warm breath fanning your face.

“Seonghwa” you moaned again, more high pitched this time as your wrist was getting more and more reckless, each time deliciously scrubbing your walls in divine and forbidden pleasure.

The way he looked at you, the way his dark eyes were filled with the same desire you had for him. The way they spoke volumes about the sinful things he wanted to do to you. And God… did you almost let him have his way with you.

You started to clench around the root, each time you pulled it out your walls were eagerly gripping on it, refusing to let it go, so you smashed it back in with force to grant their wish. Your walls quivered around the vegetable, a foreign and unknown euphoria was taking over you and you knew you were done for.

“I’m… ngh… c-cumming” you whispered to yourself as you felt the tightness in your core reach a brand new level. “Seonghwa” you cried out one more time, being only a few back-and-forths away from your sweet release but alas you couldn’t pull it through.

Because without knowing, without realizing, completely unsuspecting, you called his name. You called his name three times. You summoned him.

Purple smoke started to erupt from the corner of the small dimly lit room by the late evening sun. With terror you ripped the vegetable out before you could finish and covered your modesty with the habit you were still wearing.

From the smoke appeared slick black leather chelsea boots resting under a pair of anthracite gray dress pants coated with a shiny silverish finish. As the smoke got thinner you could distinguish a matching cropped blazer with an asymmetrical and deconstructed silver vest underneath that was held together by one single button right under his neck, you could see the soft and glistening golden skin underneath. And finally when the smoke was completely gone you saw his face. The sharp features and the slender slithering body reminiscent of the one of a serpent, eyes just as sharp and presence just as menacing. A face you hadn't known for long but couldn't forget. Seonghwa’s face.

But he looked different. His long bangs weren’t framing his face anymore, instead he had tied the long wavy strands in a high half bun. His aura was also different from when he was wearing the blue and spotted overalls. Now cladded in the revealing ensemble he looked expensive, confident and sensual.

Your jaw practically dropped to the floor when your mind finally wrapped around the information your eyes were transmitting.

“Well well…” Seonghwa stepped closer while you jolted yourself up the bed, your body cornered between the headboard and the wall.

“What are you?” you whispered with trembling lips, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing through your veins, ready to flee if need be.

Seonghwa looked at you, puzzled for a second. Then he laughed, head tilting back. The laugh made the hair in your nape stand. It was unnatural, cold and fundamentally evil.

“Me?” he asked. Right then you felt your body being magically lifted from the soft mattress. You shrieked again, utterly confused while Seonghwa’s magic slammed you against the bare walls of the humble bedroom, the tip of your toes barely scraping the worn out wooden floor.

“Oh my, please pardon my awful manners,” he said in an overly polite tone. “I’m Seonghwa, Cardinal Sin of Lust” he said, bowing respectfully, elegantly bringing his right hand on his chest in a princely manner. “But for you, love…” Seonghwa stepped towards you, taking his time to look at you. He leaned on your ear to whisper.

“I’m a dream come true” his voice was deep, sultry, self-assured. Everything you’d imagine it to be.

A faint gasp escaped your lips as you felt his warm breath on your neck.

You wanted to scream to all heavens, you had brought a demon into the convent. You had desecrated the sacred ground of this place of worship, your home. You led the wolf to the sheeps. But you couldn’t scream, you couldn’t even if your life depended on it.

“W-what do you want?” you managed to push the few words past your teeth. Your voice, perfect opposite of the one of the demon: muted and trembling.

“Just want to finish my business with you” his face stayed right where it was, nestled in the crook of your neck. Lips so close you could feel the heat radiating from them but somehow they were still too far, unable to touch you.

“What business?” you whimpered.

“Darling.” Seonghwa clicked his tongue and shook his head in disapproval. “There’s no point in fighting anymore. Stop playing dumb with me. I know you’re a smart girl.” He took a deep breath, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. “I already won, darling… that very second you decided to give in to the thought of me. That second you closed the big heavy door and thought you escaped my eyes. That very second I had won.” A wicked smirk pulled on his lips. But his words didn’t make any sense to you.

This languish was torture, this state of expectation, of suspense. This proximity. You wished it would just stop. Be it touching you for good or get away finally. Just as if he read your mind he got even closer. Now it wasn’t only his lips taunting the thin skin of your neck, it was his whole body, hovering over yours; but still… Not touching you.

“Sure winning felt good. But you know what feels even better, darling?” You couldn’t bring yourself to formulate words and only whimpered in response.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart” he grinned, relishing on your anguish, placing both of his palms at both sides of your face, trapping your frail figure between his arms and the wall.

“It’s to finally touch you.”

So he finally let himself take a deep dive into you. The plush warm lips crash onto your neck, giving wet sloppy open mouth kisses while you couldn’t help but to tilt your head back giving him more access.

“What a good girl you are” he purred, not taking the time to part his lips from you.

His left hand went to your chin and turned it to make you face him, without much hesitation he planted a wet kiss on your lips, your cute whimpers and gasps were the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss.

The kiss got heated as Seonghwa pried your hesitant mouth open with his long thumb and pushed his tongue inside to breach your lips. His delicious taste spread through your mouth, making your head dizzy. He tasted like candy, like you just took a bite of the juiciest strawberry. Ripe, just in season, absolutely delicious.

You moaned into his mouth and he smirked as his grip around your chin got tighter, he lifted his knee to part your legs and his thigh rubbed against your center through the habit. You couldn’t help but to moan louder, the unsolicited pleasurable friction made you incapable of reciprocating the kiss, your dangling feet nervously giving small kicks in the air.

Seonghwa finally parted from you, allowing you to catch your breath. But he was far from done with you.

“I know you long for more than this, angel” he whistled while his hand went up your thigh, still clothed with the thick black fabric of the habit. “I know you languish for pleasure” his blunt nails went up your arm and you realized you were still holding onto the carrot. He ripped the root from your hand.

“You won’t need this anymore” he said before smashing the poor vegetable on the ground sending millions of orange pieces flying across the room, you flinched once more at the demonstration of strength.

“Mine is much bigger than this. But don’t worry, love, I’ll make you nice and ready for me” he purred before placing both of his strong hands on the habit and just like that with astonishing ease he rips through the black gown. But not only, everything covering you is ripped in two and that also goes for your bra that fell to the ground. With the deafening sound of the fabric ripping you found yourself completely naked in front of the demon apart from the veil on your hair and the rosary beads laying on your chest.

You flinched and your hands flew to cover your nude frame but Seonghwa once again laughed and you felt an irresistible magical force pin your wrists at each side of your face. You sniveled and squirmed trying your hardest to go against the invisible force to hide away from the avid eyes of the demon.

“How cute.” The demon snickered when you failed to fight back. “Sweetheart, you don’t get to hide anything when you look this good” he said in a breath, eyes darting over your naked figure. From your dangling feet, to your thighs tightly pressed together, to your flushed face and to the Rosary beads sitting between your gorgeous breasts, swaying every time you kept trying to break away from the spell pinning you against the wall.

He brought a cold hand to the side of your breast, you couldn’t help but to moan as you felt his soft hand against you, his finger suddenly pinching your sensitive and hardened nipples. You let out a high pitched whimper.

“So sensitive” Seonghwa mocked you before he flicked the sensitive bud. Then he lifted his hand to harshly slap against the innocent lump of flesh, you jumped in surprise at the sensation. The surprise didn’t lie in the sudden surge of pain but rather from the enjoyment you got out of it, the sting sending electricity down your spine to light up your core.

With another faint movement of the head Seonghwa made you open your legs widely. You whimpered and felt tears build up in the corners of your eyes when he finally laid eyes on your most private part. And you realized with dread how wet you were. Soaked. Juices streaming down to your inner thighs making them glisten under his persistent gaze.

“Fuck, sweetheart” he exhaled out one heavy breath. “You got this fucking wet for me?” he said as he crouched down, inching his face dangerously close to your exposed center.

Embarrassment and shame reached an unbearable level, tears finally spilled out of your eyes, wetting your cheeks as you squirmed, trying your best to escape Seonghwa’s spell.

“So here’s the little hole I’m going to split in two” he said as his breath brushed over your wet folds.

You squirmed even harder, somehow feeling Seonghwa’s spell loosen around your wrists and ankles. But when he aimed his pointer finger right on your swollen bundle of nerves, earning a loud scream from you, the sudden pleasure from the perfect amount of pressure he applied on you made you completely immobile. Torn between the need for more of the foreign forbidden joy but also the fear and shame of letting the demon have his way with you, tainting you, taking away your most precious possession: your purity.

“What? Are you not fighting me off anymore?” He started to draw small circles on your bud. Your wetness made it easy for his finger to glide across the small and stiff nub. You moaned a little louder and he started going faster.

“Does it feel good, angel?” his voice went down an octave as pleasure got to your head, making the room spin, luckily you don’t have to stand on your legs.

Seonghwa went even faster when you didn’t reply.

“I said, does it feel good?” his tone was as harsh as his restless teasing of your clit. Hellish circles sending blazing heat to your whole body as you felt the pleasure rising in the deepest part of your core, your walls quivering on themselves.

But Seonghwa slowed down at the worst moment, a wicked smirk pulling on his plump lips, narrowing his piercing siren eyes.

“Good little sluts should answer when asked a question.” His pace was now just fast enough to keep you at your limit, each spasm of your core, testifying of the agonizing muted pleasure he was inflicting on you.

“Answer!” he ordered while he delightfully pressed on your painfully sensitive bundle of nerves.

“YES!! Yes it feels good” you blurted out, panting, sweat pearling between your breasts, giving in to the pressure.

“Good girl” he praised as he finally lifted his hand from your sensitive parts. You sighed in both relief of finally being let off the hook but also in frustration at the displeasing feeling of his denial.

But before you could celebrate or pester he pushed that very same finger inside you. You didn’t know by what ungodly miracle he managed to aim straight at your sensitive spot, but he did, applying divine pressure deep inside you. Your eyes instantly rolled to the back of your head as you felt the will of fighting off slipping through your fingers.

Seonghwa chuckled at your reaction, he was enjoying himself very much. After centuries of boredom he intended to savor every second of your agony.

“Darling, you really are hungry for my fingers, aren’t you? Your slutty little cunt is gripping so tightly” he chuckled again while he pulled his finger back. You hated how right he was. You hated how you felt your walls clench around him, how you felt your own body crave for more of him as soon as his finger slipped out.

But the yearning didn’t last long because he pushed past your entrance again, this time fitting two fingers inside you, taking the time to gently stretch you until his blunt nails reached as deeply as they could.

You let out a moan through gritted teeth, the pleasure making beads of sweat pearl at the sides of your face.

“Fuck! Your virgin little pussy just loves to be stretched out like this, doesn’t it?” He leaned even closer to your sopping center.

Tears continued to run down your cheeks as pleasure rose again. Seonghwa picked up the pace, stretching your walls so deliciously, pumping his two fingers in and out of you, each time he pulled out he ripped a moan out of you. Again, you started to twitch around his fingers and he smirked down on you. Pleasure continuously grew as you made this silent prayer that he would finally take you over the edge, over the barrier of this beautiful and forbidden land that you stayed away from all these years.

But again he slowed down and came to a stop. This time tears of pure frustration ran down your cheeks as you pathetically bucked your hips up trying to fight against Seonghwa’s spell pinning you down the wall.

“Aww.” He cooed in a mocking tone. “Darling, I’m sorry… were you about to cum?” He said while you shot him a death glare. He chuckled at your reddened cheeks and your frowned brows.

His finger swiped across your fold, pressing on the lonely bud once and you instantly dropped the angered look, your eyes drooped at the sensation and you couldn’t help but to grind against him, your womanliness made so eager by his touches.

“Fuck, look at you” he slipped one finger back inside, pumping it very slowly in and out. You bit down on your lip. “Acting so fucking distant only a few minutes ago…” he added a second one as you moaned out in bliss. “When in fact you were craving this… craving me…” he fitted a third one inside your already crowded heat as your moans now mixed with confused sobs. The intense feeling of pain and pleasure blending into a dangerous cocktail.

“Fuckkk” you cursed out, allowing yourself another sin you managed to avoid up until now, which has the demon showing more teeth.

“What a good little slut taking all of my fingers so good” he said as he took his time thoroughly stretching you out, his blunt nails pushing against your sensitive spot, while his face was closing in the distance with your intimate parts. Your eyes fluttered close as the muscles in your neck gave out and you let your head hang back on the wall.

“Look at me” Seonghwa grunted and your eyes snapped back open instantly meeting his dark ones, his irises seemed to go black with perversion.

“Now I’m gonna make you cum” He announced as he picked up the pace once more, you can tell he didn’t intend to stop before it was over. “I want you to never forget this. This feeling you’re about to experience.” His wrist took on a punishing pace as your eyes were locked with his. Pleasure sending radiating heat through your body, chest heaving up and down as you moan out loudly with your jaw hanging open. “Every time you’ll think of me I curse you to feel exactly… like… this”

Seonghwa finally wrapped his mouth around your lonely and eager little clit, flicking his tongue on it as his fingers relentlessly punched your g spot, both sources of pleasure go to your head and your first orgasm finally drops over you like a wave, taking you away with its raging current.

Your cum squirts out of your body, water like fluid rushing out of you and filling Seonghwa’s mouth, drenching his neck and exposed chest in the asymmetrical silver vest. He moaned, lips against yours and sending delicious vibrations into you.

You screamed out as the level of pleasure ripped through you, your walls clenching around Seonghwa and twitching uncontrollably as your whole body shook, still magically pinned down to the wall.

When you finally settled down he slowed down and took his fingers out of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and licking his fingers clean.

“Hmmm” he hummed contentedly and smacked his lips, seemingly enjoying your taste. “It’s true… Good little sluts, like you, taste much better”.

Seonghwa cut the spell and stood back up, your exhausted body dropping to the floor, your weakened legs unable to support your weight.

Seonghwa had enough of this teasing and had grown impatient. He brushed back the cum-soaked locks of charcoal black hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks, the wet skin of his chest glistening under the silver asymmetrical vest. Your eyes trailed down below the belt you gasped as you saw the outline of what was hidden from your eyes all this time… Even still restricted by the fabric of the shiny gray dress pants, the thickness and the length had your heart racing again.

“I want to feel you around me. Now.” he ordered, in a sultry tone that lifted goosebumps all over your naked skin.

Suddenly your body was magically lifted up again but this time Seonghwa threw you on the bed. The veil was barely hanging onto your hair anymore.

Seonghwa walked to you as he took off the cropped blazer along with the rest of his clothes. You gulped down at the sight of his nude and perfectly sculpted body standing beside you. The glistening chest made wet with sweat and cum, dripping down his abs even down to his groin where you barely even dared to look.

There it was. The Absolute Sin.

Seonghwa’s long, thick, twitching, veiny, hard cock.

You could have screamed at the monstrous thing if you weren’t still in a daze from your first crushing orgasm . It was so thick, so long you couldn’t even begin to imagine how this was about to fit inside you.

Seonghwa chuckled when he caught the panic swimming in your wide eyes. He thrived on this fear. And he knew exactly how it was going to go. And he couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait to see the very same doe eyes grow heavy with pleasure and look back at him with need when you will inevitably beg him to keep going, to never stop fucking you. Because he broke you once and he intended to do it over and over and over again until you will no longer remember anything but him.

Seonghwa dipped both his knees at your sides, his body weight making yours sink in the soft mattress while he shimmied his way up between your wide open legs.

He rubbed the thick blazing hot tip on your still very sensitive bud while he stared down at the place your two bodies met. You tried not to moan by biting down on your bottom lip.

“Please” you meekly whimpered, his dark eyes shot back to yours.

“Please what?” he slithered between his teeth, smirking.

“Please don’t… do that…” you puffed, as fear crushed your chest. Seonghwa snickered again and brought his hand to very gently and softly brush his thumb over your wet cheeks and lips.

“Darling” his deep voice purred so softly. “You are not under any spell here. You can control this tiny little body of yours. So go ahead” he taunted you as his hand went down from your face to your sensitive nipples. “Go ahead and close your legs.”

What? No… It isn’t possible.

There was no way he was not the one forcing your thighs apart like this. But when you gave it a try, when you attempted to lift your ankle it actually worked. You indeed could move. But… somehow you…. still didn’t.

“Come on show me. Go ahead, pretty” his hand went down again to your stomach. “Close your legs on this poor, aching, desperate….” he flicked his pointer finger on your clit “virgin little pussy”. The sweet sting made you moan out and arch your back instinctively.

Seonghwa waited a few seconds staring down at you with amusement as you didn't move an inch. Your body kept your legs nice and wide for him against your own will.

“You know what?” he took his hand back and you swallowed back a whine and the loss of contact. “Okay, I won’t… if you are still this strong headed after all of this maybe you’re right. You are a pure spirit and I can admit defeat when I have lost.”

The smug look he wore completely gave him away. You knew it was a ruse, a ploy to get to you, to toy with you but you weren’t listening to reason anymore, only your delirious body tortured with vicious need and you just couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t risk him leaving you, not like this.

“NO!” you wailed, extending your hand to him as he was already getting off the bed and on to his feet. “I-…I-… Ok… do it”

Seonghwa’s expression here took a turn. The smug smile was completely wiped off his face, only dark brown and grave eyes looking down on your naked frame.

“Yeah?” he came back to bed and laid over you. He brought his lips close to your ear and he seductively whispered against your neck as your eyes fluttered close. “If you want it, sweetheart. You’ll have to properly beg for it”.

Your eyes snapped open. But Seonghwa only looked dead serious.

“I- I-” you started but Seonghwa lifted his hand to let it slap against your wet cunt. The whacking sound bounced off the bare walls and the stinging pain had you grunting in unsolicited pleasure.

“I said properly. I want to believe you” his voice had nothing of the playful undertone it had a few moments ago. You didn’t think twice, maybe not even at all.

“Please, Seonghwa. I implore you to fuck me. Please fuck and use my slutty virgin cunt as much as you’d like. Please hurt me and rip my virginity away. I want to scream and cry out your name. I want to be yours. I want to forget everything about the good girl I used to be, I want to be your whore. Forget about my soul, just take it with you back to hell.”

Silence fell as a grin played on his lips. It’s not smug or playful, it’s wicked, downright evil.

You were not just begging him. The desperate prose was not just a plea. It was a prayer. You were praying for him to taint you. Begging him to take away your purity like it was nothing but a nuisance to you, discarding it. Seeing you abandon your values and principles was the greatest achievement, a victory so sweet it made Seonghwa lose control. The feeling was intoxicating, blissfully filling his veins and making his evil heart thump. In his infinite existence he had never felt that. And it was all thanks to you.

Suddenly his body was elevated in the air and purple smoke enveloped him again. For a second you were scared that he was actually leaving you but the thought vanished as quick as it appeared when you heard the distinctive shrill sound of the metal scraping against the wall. You looked above your head and you witnessed with dread the crucifix above your bed being slowly turned upside down, engraving the white plaster of the bare walls. The foreboding omen lifted goosebumps off your skin and sent a cold shiver down your spine.

Soon you saw his body peek out as the smoke evaporated. It was still him but he had changed.

Huge wings were open behind his back, covered in raven black lustrous feathers, shining under the moonlight peeking from the window as the dark night was now settled. Two black horns have pierced his skin at each side of his head, pointing upwards, resembling the ones of a spanish bull. His body, somehow, looked even more defined, the muscles of his abs and shoulders seemed to bulge out. He looked strong, ominous, dangerous.

“You have such a way with words” he said as he floated back between your legs and settled his huge cock on your stomach. “Now I’m gonna make all of your wishes come true”. He brushed the tip of his cock, wet with precum, once again on your slick folds. “I've never fucked a mortal in my true form before.” he started, still rubbing against you, the muted pleasure making your brain fuzzy. “I can’t guarantee you’ll come out of this alive”.

But you were already set on it and if you had to die, so be it…

“I don’t care” you whispered as your eyebrows met and you looked back at him with need.

You braced yourself when you felt him finally push himself inside you. You could practically hear your hymen rip in two to make way for his huge cock. The puny little carrot could have never compared to the size of him.

“What a good little slut you are,” he cooed, before grunting as you were gripping around him. “Willing to die for a round of fun on my big cock”.

Sharp throbbing pain ripped through your lower stomach as you frowned and grunted.

“I know…” Seonghwa purred as he leaned over in your ear “I’m big” he said as he finally reached the bottom of you, linking his hips with yours. And he pulled out a lot faster than when he came in. Your eyes rolled back and you crushed the pillow over your mouth to yell in it.

But when he went back in again somehow the ache had lessened and pleasure was slowly taking its place. Soon the pain, as sharp as it was, vanished to become only a vague memory you couldn’t even recall as your mind was too preoccupied by the incommensurable pleasure Seonghwa made you feel.

“Fucking whore” Seonghwa grunted as he mercilessly ramed up your pussy, making it the shape of his cock. “Cheating on God feels good, doesn’t it? Your whorish little cunt can’t resist this fat demon cock, can it?” he growled.

You started twitching once again around him and Seonghwa instantly recognized the familiar clench he felt earlier around his fingers.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, panting above you.

You couldn’t even process the words you were hearing as your eyes rolled back and your jaw fell open. But you were brought back to your senses when Seonghwa’s big clawed hand slapped your cheek forcefully. The burning pain took you aback and stopped your never ending ascension to pleasure. You whined a complaint and Seonghwa grabbed your face into a strong grip making your lips pout.

“Good little whores have to ask first” he said, still deeply pounding your precious little pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease… C-can I cum?... F-fuckk… Please” you mumbled as his pace made it hard to hold yourself back.

“No!” he responded sternly. “Not now” he said, smirking evilly. Enjoying this anguish in your eyes as you tried your best to control your body. He brought his hand and pinched hard on your swollen little clit.

“Aaaah” you screamed, arching your back and pressing your head back into the soft mattress.

“You’ll cum when I’ll tell you too” he snickered, looking down at you. And the pleasure kept on building, frustrated tears starting to wet your cheeks again.

“My God please…” you whined, as tears streamed down your face and your pussy clenched around his thick cock. Seonghwa scoffed.

“Sorry but he has left you, darling.” He started to draw circles on your sensitive and aching clit, still maintaining the punishing pace of his cock rearranging your guts, making the rosary beads jump along with your breasts with each powerful thrust. You cry out as it’s becoming nearly impossible to keep yourself from cumming. “He abandoned you to me” he growled, his low voice sending electricity down your core.

“Pleaseeeee” you pleaded once more, desperation oozing out of your broken up voice and finally Seonghwa pronounced the magic words.

“Cum. Cum for me like the godless little whore that you are”

Finally you let go. You let Seonghwa’s skillful hand and monstrous, merciless cock take you down to the hellish pit of lustful sin. Pleasure took over you and clouded your vision, everything came to a blur as you could only concentrate on the throbbing of your cunt around Seonghwa’s thick dick. You moaned out his name in pure agonizing bliss. The orgasm was even longer lasting, even stronger than the one he gave you moments ago. And you knew for a fact now that there was no going back.

The good girl that you were had died, Seonghwa killed her. And you had let him do it without batting an eyelash. But fuck did it feel good. You felt no shame, no regrets, only unholy desire for the demon’s heavenly cock.

Soon the high wore off but Seonghwa didn’t seem to care and kept on pounding you, taking a bruising grip on your parted thighs with both his hands.

“Please” you whimpered again as your poor little pussy might split in two from clenching and throbbing this much right after an earth shattering orgasm. Seonghwa chuckled in between heavy breaths.

“I just came” you cried out, turning into an over-stimulated mess.

“I don’t care” he spat, using you like a fucktoy just like he pleased, after all you had asked him to do so… ‘to fuck and use your slutty virgin cunt as much as he’d like’. The exhausted quivering of your restless pussy started to build up again and before you could even realize it, Seonghwa’s thick cock had you flirting with the edge of the bottomless pleasure pit again.

“Please” you whined “Please stop” you begged him, breast lewdly jumping up and down with each of his brutal thrusts. But he kept on going, growling as his eyebrows met, handsome face contorted in pleasure, biting his lip. Body pressed over yours and full black feathered wings completely concealing you, one of his horns even scraping the wall with one too violent move.

“Pleaseeeee” you whimpered yet again. And suddenly your body was being lifted and flipped over by Seonghwa’s spell. You land on all fours, completely confused but worst of all, completely empty.

“Don’t you get it?” Seonghwa said as he slowly pushed himself back into your soft, warm little throbbing cunt. You moaned as you gladly took him back. “You sold your soul to me. You don’t get to ask for anything anymore. So I’ll fuck you for as long as I see it fit” He said before pushing down on your face, shoving your head into a shamefully submissive position, your ass up in the air, ready to be destroyed by him once more.

His fat cock parted you so deliciously as lewd wet sounds rang to your ears. It was like your once virgin pussy had completely taken the shape of his monstrous dick. Every movement he made ripped a delighted moan out of your lips, you didn’t have the will to fight anymore. You only wanted him and this delectable high he made you feel.

“Fuckkk” you cried out as he started to go faster again, the quiver in your lower stomach making a quick return.

“You’re my thing now.” He ripped the veil of your hair, the last relic of your past self and sent it flying across the room. He grabbed a fistfull of your hair, harshly pulling on it maintaining your face forward but your chin still firmly planted in the mattress, asserting his dominance on your frail figure. “My toy, you hear?” the sting on your scalp added to the full feeling of his cock had you completely fucked out. Your eyes rolled as heat spreaded through you again, your jaw fell open and your tongue slipped out. You were fucked out dumb, completely. Brain nice and thoughtless just from him.

“Yeshhh” you mumbled.

“I’m gonna make you cum again and this time I will fill your dirty little cunt with my cum” The obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your slick folds and clit bounced off the walls.

“Yesshh pwweathe” you replied as your tongue slapped against your chin with each inhuman thrust of his hips deep into you, sending strings of drool on your chin and staining the sheets.

“Today you’re ovulating, you know what it means?”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“I’m gonna force a child into you. You’ll take my seed into your fertile womb and life will sprout inside you” His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him start to twitch inside you.

“You’d like that?” he teases, knowing the answer.

“Yesssshhhhh!!!” you yelled, you were ready for anything if it meant he’d let you cum again.

“Then take it. Take my cum you depraved slut” His second hand left your hips to grab the rosary still around your neck, twisting his wrist to wrap the beads around his fingers and pulling on it while still maintaining his grasp on your hair.

Bloodstream to your brain became restrained and you started to feel dizzy. A deliciously light headed sensation filled your head up as your pussy quivered with a third orgasm. Your hungry cunt squeezed Seonghwa’s thick length as if its life depended on it, demanding every last drop of cum the demon had to offer. You clenched and throbbed around him in pure joyful sin as he took you to the deepest part of this abysmal and cursed pleasure, taking your sanity and everything that was left of the old you to the pits of hell with him.

Seonghwa’s rhythm faltered and he shuddered and grunted in bliss as his throbbing cock gushed out streams after streams of piping hot cum that stained your walls with white, shooting straight up to your womb, assuredly knocking you up in the process.

You yelled and moaned one last time. You were so full of him, belly round and swollen with the ungodly amount of cum Seonghwa gracefully gifted you. You were so unbelievably full that you couldn't help but to let it flow out of you and run down your thighs, no matter how much you clenched to keep it all inside.

You were in heaven. This was pure euphoria. A kind of contentment not any amount of spirituality and virtue could ever give you. The kind of happiness you could only experience when you let go of everything you’ve ever known to throw yourself into the arms of the most pleasurable sin of all.

Lust.

***

The next morning when you woke up at dawn with the chirping birds you felt nauseous and disoriented. You looked around the room and found it immaculate. Your habit was not ripped in two, it was neatly folded on the wooden bedside table along with your veil and underwear. The room was clean and neat: no traces of small pieces of orange carrot anywhere or puddles of cum on the wooden floor. And you were wearing a comfortable full length pyjama gown.

In a flash, disjointed memories came back to you. You remembered the anthracite gray suit, the black bull horns, the raven wings, the defined abs, the devilishly handsome good looks, the tempting smirk and the huge thick angry cock and the immense forbidden pleasure that came along with it.

You sat up and looked behind you hastily, the wall was perfectly smooth, no scrapes of the black horns and most of all the crucifix was perfectly normal, hanging right side up.

You spotted the small, thin, intact carrot next to your pillow and sighed in relief. Yes, you had sinned but you knew if you confessed and prayed hard enough God would forgive you. Afterall, you had never done such a thing and it was shameful and wrong, yes, but they were far greater sins than this one, like selling your soul to the Sin of Lust and bearing his child… You shook your head, chasing away the blurry memory of the nightmare, feeling a weird tingly build up in your lower stomach as you saw flashes of the evil smirks and the huge monstrous-

“It was a dream” you said out loud, sighing, hoping the sound of your own voice would prevent your mind from imagining more of the sinful imagery. “Just a meaningless dream” you told yourself again.

Convinced the soreness between your legs was only due to masturbating for the first time, that the nausea was nothing to worry about and that the spasm inside your belly were benign little cramps.

Seonghwa smirked in victory as he looked at you through the pierced purple smoke. He made it. He broke you beyond repair. He went, won and marked you. And soon he would back to take what you had promised him: an offspring and your soul, body and mind, you.

“See you soon, y/n” he chuckled.

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