#it's also work considering how workers dressed as well

[sttm99]

Bakugo understands that he spends a lot of money on you for just being his personal assistant. But he can't help it.

You honestly deserve it. You're smart, responsible, diligent. You're a hard worker with principles, and your work ethic is something he respects.

It didn't matter how many people were against him promoting you from secretary to PA so soon in your career. Your work was top notch, and you kept him organised.

Sure, you were pretty as well, a sight for sore eyes, really. But that wasn't his fault, was it? It wasn't your fault either.

It's not like you came into work every day with full glam, diamond earrings, or elaborate hairstyles.

It had pissed him off at first, when people demeaned you or underestimated your work because of your looks, especially when he knew you worked so hard so you wouldn't be considered some dumb corporate bimbo.

But now? Now he loved it. He loved when he had clients over, and they'd do a double take when he sent for you to take notes or deliver documents to his table.

He'd noticed the modesty with which you'd dressed when you first started working for him, how you tried to dim yourself with drab colours that obviously washed you out, or plain hairstyles.

Not like it stopped anybody from being able to tell how pretty you were.

But after, when you'd started garnering his attention and racking up more bonuses from your diligence, he began noticing you wearing nicer things.

Of course, you had to up your wardrobe once you were promoted to the role of Personal Assistant to one of the biggest heroes in Japan. But that wasn't it.

Bakugo loved seeing you walk in with a new shirt or new shoes or new earrings after he'd rewarded you a bonus or a pay increase. There was a sort of high he got, knowing that you took care of yourself with the money he gave you.

Oh, he spoilt you rotten.

Month end rewards became the norm for you. He just closed a hefty advertising deal? Best believe you were getting a cut out of that. He was given a bottle of champagne as a gift? You're drinking it with him in his office.

Sure, it may have seemed a bit inappropriate to some people; him locking the doors and closing the windows, and having you sit on his lap prettily whilst he poured it out into a flute for you.

Sure, it was inappropriate for him to have his hands up your skirt as you recounted the month end figures for him, but you were comfortable that way. He was, too. Oh, so comfortable with your hands inside his trousers and his teasing at the lining of your panties.

He was just taking care of his best employee.

And maybe he did spend a lot of money on you, but you had to keep up appearances. He needed you looking your best when you were next to him.

It wasn't his fault you were so beautiful that brands reached out to him to get you to model for then after seeing you appear in some pictures by his side.

It wasn't his fault that he couldn't get anyone else to come with him to the Hero Gala. Besides, you're meant to be with him during these things to take notes for him. So having you as his date was basically killing two birds with one stone.

"Your assistant's fucking sexy," Kaminari whispered into Bakugo's ear, both of them watching you go to order a drink for your boss.

Bakugo smirked to himself, his eyes raking over your body, clad in the tight fitting dress he'd bought for you to wear. He'd also bought the earrings you had on, and the shoes and the necklace. Sure, it cost him quite a lot, but he just couldn't help it when you looked so good.

"She's single, isn't she?"

Now, that had him snapping his head in Kaminari's direction. "Don't even fucking think about."

Kaminari whined, "But why? She's your assistant, not your sister or your girlfriend."

"She's my assistant," Bakugo seethed, standing up from his seat. "She's my employee, and I won't have you lowering her efficiency." He murmured as he made his way to where you were.

You smiled brightly as you turned around to see him, handing him the second glass of champagne in your hands. "You look like you'd rather be somewhere else." You laughed softly.

He grinned down at you before downing the drink quickly. "I would," he said before dropping his glass back on the bar. "Come on."

He spoilt you rotten, but he couldn't help it. You looked so beautiful in your tight dress and pretty hair and beautiful face.

Sure, being seated on the sink and having your legs spread before his lips in the bathroom at the Hero Gala may have been a tad inappropriate, but how could he stop himself?

You were quivering for him, thighs pressing down and shaking on either side of his head, and your fingers gripping harshly at his hair, pulling him even closer as you rutted your heat against his lips.

He let out a desperate groan, burying his face deeper into your cunt, eating you out shamelessly, hungrily.

"Fuuck..." He growled into you.

You'd been so shy the first time he had his way with you, refusing to touch him, grind on him, behaving so meek and cute.

Now look at you, so selfish and desperate, almost suffocating him as he feasted. He spoilt you rotten, sure, but you deserved every morsel of it.

"Katsuki..." You whined desperately, your back arching off the mirror, the hand not pulling at his hair tightly gripping the edge of the counter. "Katsuki, I'm so close... I'm so fucking close, baby-"

His hands dug into the flesh of your ass, pulling your harsher into him, your clit pressing against his nose as his tongue made a meal of you. He was always so desperate for it, digging the wet muscle so far into your pussy you saw stars.

And he was messy too, his saliva and your arousal staying your thighs, dripping from the marble counter unto the ground as he ate from you.

Anyone who came in after would probably be able to tell from the smell of the bathroom alone. The cum leaking unto the floor would only solidify it.

But the thought of someone finding out that your boss had his face buried deep in your pussy wasn't exactly what you were thinking about when you came for him, hard and rough, your hips shaking and raising off the counter as you rode out your high.

"We shouldn't be doing such during events, sir." You whispered to him as you both walked down the corridors back into the hall where the gala was being held.

He had his large palm over your ass, groping you just in the dark of the hallway, letting go just as you stepped into the crowded hall.

"Just be a good girl and wait for me to fuck you on the way home, hm?" He smirked at you, a small sheen still visible on his lips.

He never cleaned his mouth properly after eating you out during such events. It was inappropriate, sure, but he just couldn't help himself.

[dotster001]

Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him! 

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along.  His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him. 

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

[reticent-writer]

Hey! Well, actually, I really like the set of stories about Teen!Reader and Alostor where the reader is classified as an assistant, I would like a story that shows how they met and how they get to the point where they consider him an assistant and their confidence to say him dad? Thank you, I'm sorry if the request was very long. (Writing this I remembered the fight Alastor and Lucifer had over Charlie about who she calls Dad, I felt it would still be a good scenario for indignation)

An: I had a storyboard for this exact thing but its messy and if you don't know me you probably wouldn't understand how my mind works but basically i have ocs for this

This took a bit longer because it happens before Alastor and reader dies plus I gave reader a family so...... some basic info

Y/n was born into a family that was picture perfect on the outside

father was a factory worker Mother was a dressmaker

Doll House by Melanie Martinez fits them perfectly

Y/n was the middle child of 5

When Y/n was born the eldest (Atticus boy) was 10, Second eldest 6 (Alma girl), Middle child (y/n)

when y/n turned 4 their parents had twins (Giles boy, Gideon boy)

This is a glimpse into my mind. It might not make sense.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

-1920-

Y/n is 10.

Your parents were perfectionists, especially when it came to the public eye. The L/n family was always the center of attention in your little town, deep in Louisiana.

You and your siblings were constantly dressed in Sunday's best.

"Kids make yourselves look presentable. A client is coming soon." Your mother called out from her 'workspace'. kids aren't allowed in there.

"Can't we just stay in our rooms." Atticus complained from his spot on the couch.

"Get. Dressed."

Atticus groaned as he got up to go to his room. On his way, he knocked on your door before opening it.

"You're supposed to wait for a response, Jackass."

"Next time you curse at me I'm poppin' you." He threatened but you knew he wouldn't do anything, "Mom said get dressed, tell Alma."

He closed the door before you could complain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as he ran to his room.

His room was at the end of the hall. the hall was short with 2 doors on each side. Alma was across from you and the twins were next to her.

Right across from your room is Alma's. She's going into her preteen years and started to spend more time in her room. Your mother says she's adjusting to becoming a woman and needs her time alone. She's also becoming very snappy.

You slowly opened your door to stare at hers. You slowly walk into the hallway and up to her door. You knock three time and wait for a responce. She didn't open the door.

"I heard Atticus." Her voice was horse and strained but you believed what your mother told you.

That was all you needed to get yourself ready.

-------

Your mother made all (except for Alma) of you sit in the living room and wait for the client.

*knock knock knock*

"He's here. You better behave." She says before opening the door with a smile only guests see, "Alastor, It's so good to see you again."

"Good to see you to, my dear and my my look at the children. They all seem to be in good health." He greeted all of you with a smile.

"Hello sir." Atticus spoke for all of you.

"You seem to be missing one." Alastor commented, making your mother chuckle.

"She's been feeling under the weather as of late, come along I need to take your measurements. Atticus, Y/n prepare some tea." She ordered.

Alastor and your mother went to her workspace and she shut the door.

----------

That night went smoothly until your father got home. He didn't like the fact that your mother was in her workspace with a man and the door closed, even if he was a client.

It caused fighting -well more than there normally is anyway- between your mother and father. It's always been easy to make your father mad.

It got worse when Alastor took notice of it he came by more often with the excuse of having gifts for you and your siblings.

He gave you a radio to listen to him when he went on air. Atticus was offered a job at the radio station. Alma got a set of jewelry.

This angered your father more and instead of taking it out on Alastor or your mother he took it out on you and your siblings. Atticus tried to protect all of you.

One day your father and Atticus got into a really bad fight and your brother was shot. He didn't make it.

It was around the same time when a horrid smell started coming from Alma's room. Your parents said she caught a fever and no one noticed but you didn't believe them anymore.

From then on you started distancing yourself from your family and growing closer to Alastor.

--------

When you got older (16) you started working with alastor at the radio station. He taught you how to live life without worry.

He treats you like your a person and not just your parent's child.

Your parents treated you like a decoration. Alastor treated you like a child he didn't know he wanted.

You found out he was a murder by accident. You forgot someone at the station late at night and went back to get it to see blood spattered in the talking booth.

At first you thought it was Alastors so you took a gun that the station had in case of emergencies and followed the trail.

Opening the back door you saw Alastor dragging the body. The two of you made eye contact. Your body moved without hesitation and helped him hide the body.

------

Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

This is long and not what I usually write but it's been stuck in my head for a while.

A/n: I've decided to cut the twins and make y/n the youngest. I had something for them originally but it's better for just Alma, Atticus and Y/n

Art by @ghostly-one

[chrollohearttags]

DOLL FACE • chrollo lucifer

synopsis: in which you become chrollo’s newest obsession with no chance of him ever letting you go.

content + themes: yandere, drug lord!chrollo, black!fem reader, reader is an escort, mirror sex, porn without plot, rough sex, spit kink, dacryphilia, prone bone, heavy breeding, unprotected sex, dark themes, drug use (consensual), read at your own risk, short drabble

word count: 0.8K

📝: just a little something/rehashing from a previous story I wrote for a while ago. May have to revisit this someday. Shoutout to @lostgxrlblog for reminding me of this! Should also go without saying but minors are not welcomed!!

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

leather pumps with bottoms painted in red, pointed to the ceiling…

the scent of bourbon and nicotine permeating throughout the air along with the smell of sex..

strips of cocaine lined up on a shard of glass..

sounds of rampant thumping and loud cries filled the room..

it was a sight or rather, a very lucid reality that you had been experiencing for quite some time now. A pleasurable fantasy fulfilled by none other than the man who had placed you in this situation in the first place. Face down in the plush cushion of a hotel bed mattress as he ruts his hips into the plumpness of your ass. Watching it ripple each time he peered down and thrusted in. Thumbs pressed into the visible dimples on your back..it was one of the many admirable features he loved about you. Honestly, he could ramble for hours on end about how beautiful, soft and sexy you were. How he loved you dearly..and you were the most precious thing in his life. So much so, he made love to you as if it would be his last. Vigorously pounding you into the bed; causing it to vibrate at the sturdy seams.

“Yesss..! Just like that, doll face. Look up..look at your pretty fucking face in the mirror.”

a backhanded yet endearing pet named he’d so affectionately adorned you with once you became his employee and lover. Truth be told, the former was not of your own volition. It had been a year since you’d become the proverbial ‘bottom bitch’ to the illustrious crime lord, Chrollo Lucifer. His top escort and appointed leader to all the other sex workers who served under him. Although not an ideal line of work, being in his presence was enough to endure anything. A feeling he shared mutually; proving so through discarding the demeaning term and giving you the aforementioned moniker. You were gorgeous..absolute perfection if he’d ever seen it. In the same breath though, he considered you as nothing more than an object. His toy and plaything to mold and shape in his image…in more ways than one…

“You take my dick so well…god, I love being inside of you. How am I supposed to let anyone else have this pussy when it’s so conformed to my shape? It’s made for me..”

powerful words he’d hiss into your ear whilst he hovered over your frame, taking full dominion over your center. Your sticky, sweat and otherwise stained skin smacking against each other. You’d take those deep, unrelenting strokes as much as you’d could but to no avail..that thick cock stretching you open but still not wanting to give way. As some semblance of comfort, you’d grasp and claw at the crisp white sheets, chewing into the pillow but much like the other pieces of normalcy in your life, he’d rip that away and forcefully tug you back by your wrists. Maneuvering you to his own accord..a fate you were used to. Forced to glare up at your own pathetic reflection in the mirror..a fucked out face marked with smeared makeup and saliva from both your own mouth and him filling it up with spit of his own. Claw marks from him, fish hooking his fingers into your jaw and your expensive dress ripped to shreds. That done the courtesy of the client that you had just seen prior to him bursting in the room and claiming you for his own. All but running the man out by gun point. It couldn’t be helped really..especially when he saw you strutting about in that bright red ensemble, rubbing on his chest and kissing the ugly fuck..he couldn’t take it! Hence why you were being marked and bred until he was satisfied. Make no mistake, it wasn’t the actions of a brutal tyrant. It was because he was so hopelessly in love in you! Having already filled you with two loads..that twitching cunt that couldn’t stop orgasming for him, already housing so much but willing to take so much more. As long as it pleases him, as long as it made him happy, as long as it kept feeling so fucking good..

“You’re mine, I’ll make certain that it’s implanted in your cute, empty head. Even if it takes me all night. Even if I have to put a baby in that pretty belly of yours.”

you’d forever remain his pretty little plaything. His precious doll face.

[dudeitiskarev]

My One and Only

Paring: Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: It's Derek and Savannah's wedding, and to Hotch, you're the prettiest person in the room.

Content/warnings: mutual pining; secret relationship; food and alcohol consumption; smut (18+ only please. Minors do not engage).

Word count: 7.3k

Author’s note: this one of my all time favorite fics I’ve written that is also based on one of my fav songs by miss Taylor Swift ‘Dress’. thought I’d post it here since I’ve been gaining some new followers and as most of my fics, it’s only on AO3. If you’re new here, welcome and I hope you enjoy! Mwahh!

         Everyone’s eyes were on the bride—everyone but Hotch’s. Even before the ceremony started, his entire attention was on one of the bridesmaids: You.

         You, on the other hand, were mesmerized by Savannah walking down the aisle in her gorgeous wedding dress—you smiled even bigger when she joined Derek at the altar.

         “My god,” he said, staring into his soon-to-be wife’s eyes with a cheeky smile.

         Only then you sensed a strong gaze on you. You subtly turned your head to the crowd and like a magnet you found Aaron’s eyes. You gave him a quick threatening glance before bringing your attention back to the couple. You could almost hear him chuckle under his breath from that far.

         You’d talked about it when each of you got an invitation and he promised he would ignore you all evening, but it was hard keeping his eyes off you when you looked that stunning. That wouldn’t be a problem if one of Derek’s sisters wasn’t recording the wedding—oh, and if people knew about what you two had.

         “Maybe we should bring a plus one,” you’d told him as an idea to keep the best profilers clueless.  

         You’ve been more than his friend for almost a year and no one suspected a thing—truly. Apparently, profiling never worked when it came to people you interact with daily. You both were experienced profilers too, and since the beginning, you knew well how to act around each other to trick everybody at work into thinking you were still just two normal co-workers that got along.

         That’s how it was for over five years. Then it all changed when you both ended your respective relationships around the same time. Your breakup came first and was messier than his. He was there to catch your tears the same way you were all ears to him. You were lonely together and that woke up feelings neither of you thought would emerge from talking just a bit more than the usual. And one late-night kiss in his office was enough to start whatever you two had going on.

         You’d been confused for a while about how you felt about him and took the initiative to take it forward. You apologized right away because you didn’t plan to kiss him. Ever. But he said nothing, kissed you back, and took you right there over his desk—the first and only time he allowed himself to lose his professionalism at work.

         It was the most mind-blowing sex you’d ever had and you became addicted to it—to him.

         The officiant started his speech and when Derek began to say his vows, you snapped out of your flashbacks, holding your flower bouquet tighter by impulse. Your stomach fluttered while his voice floated inside the intimate venue, and you could only imagine how Savannah was feeling. She brought her palm to her pregnant belly, keeping it there the entire time Morgan spoke his heart out. He was like a brother to you and the fact that he had found the one made you wonder who you were gonna have the chance to share vows with in a hopefully not-so-far future.  

         You slightly turned your head to the crowd again when it was Savannah’s turn, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at Hotch, the only person you wanted a life with. The person you considered was the one for you.

         God, if he only knew.

         “ ...And I promise to love you, ” she said. “ Today. And tomorrow. And forever... ”

         Every word resonated with how you felt about Aaron and your chest swelled as if she was a messenger of your own heart. You hadn’t told Aaron yet but loved him, you have for a while now, but if there was another feeling beyond love, you sure felt it. You’ve never been so close to grazing the sky like you did whenever he kissed you; electricity rushed through you whenever you two were in between the sheets; with him around, you turned into the most stupid (in love) person in the room and you were more than fine with it.

         "... I'd choose you to be my miracle over and over again. In this world and in any other… ”

         You finally dared to look at him, finding his eyes on you again. Now he was the one who threatened you, gesturing for you to pay attention by raising his brows. You didn’t react—externally, anyway. Your heart was clenching because you’d never had this urge before; to jump over everyone and let the world know he was your miracle. That was the best way to describe who he was to you since he offered to be more than just a shoulder to cry on. He’d made you believe in love again and showed you how broken hearts can mend each other—heal together.

         You took a subtle deep breath and kept your chin up, determined to avoid any unspoken flirting with him until the ceremony got to the exchange of rings, ending with the most romantic kiss you’ve ever witnessed.

         “Okay! That’s enough!” Penelope—one of the bridesmaids too—said jokingly and the happy cheering got quickly replaced with laughs. You allowed yourself to search for Aaron then, something you always did whenever something funny happened just to see him laugh. His dimples were in their glory showing how proud he was. He may have never said it out loud, but you knew how much Morgan meant to him.

         And that was only the beginning of the big event. After the brief ceremony ended, it moved to another venue inside the same hotel and despite all the bright lights and loud music, love was still in the air. It even radiated through every photo taken at the photoshoot setup you and Spencer had built yourselves that same morning.

         “Didn’t know you guys were this artistic,” Morgan grinned as he ran his hand over a wall full of pink and white roses.

         “It actually doesn’t take an artistic person to build this exact wall at all. Even a toddler could’ve done it,” Reid said while nodding, giving him a tight-lipped smile.

         “Don’t listen to him.” You nudged his arm. “It took us four hours to build it.”

         “Oh, yeah,” Spencer agreed. “Four hours and thirteen minutes.”

         “We appreciate the effort,” Savannah laughed. “Now can we please take the pictures? Baby is getting hungry.”

         “Yeah, blame our baby,” Derek mocked her, placing his hand over her belly as he stood behind her, ready to pose in front of the professional camera. “I know you’ve been thinking about dinner all day.”

         Savannah replied something between her teeth that made Derek laugh even more as they posed like the most attractive couple you’ve ever seen.

         “They are so meant to be,” Penelope commented with the biggest smile, snapping her own pictures of them with her phone.

         “I know.” You folded your arms over your chest with a proud smile that disappeared as soon as a familiar perfume enveloped you from behind, making your shoulders stiffen.

         Although… that didn’t stop you from shifting your weight to one foot, a thing that made your curves stand out in a way you knew would only make Hotch react—more so when you were wearing that dress you’d picked with him in mind. His lips always ended up attached to your neck and shoulders. That part of you was his weakness and the day of the bridesmaids fitting, that was only one dress that made you think of his lips.

         He cleared his voice as you expected to start making small talk with Rossi about Jack. You’ve always loved the way his voice became soft when he talked to or about his son. He’d told you how he wanted to bring Jack to the wedding but that he’d chosen to go to a friend’s sleepover—which was understandable. At his age, you would’ve picked your friends over your parent’s friend’s wedding too.

         “Now pictures with your team.” Savannah smiled at Morgan. “You’re gonna want to see them when we’re old.”

         “She’s right,” you popped in. “Come on guys, let’s all take turns to kiss Morgan’s cheek.”

         “Mm-mm.” Derek furrowed his perfect brows, holding up a finger. “I’m a married man now.”

         You stood next to him and pecked his cheek anyway before resting your head over his shoulder and pouting your lips in a fake-sad face.

         “Spencer, you were so right,” you said loud enough for everybody to hear in between camera flashes.

         “I know. About what? Exactly?”

         “Today really should be a national day of mourning for all of us Derek lovers.”

         ��Oh, come on now.” Morgan swung his arms over yours and Penelope’s shoulder. “Just because I officially belong to my woman doesn’t mean you can’t love me anymore.”

         “That’s true,” Savannah agreed.

         You blew her a kiss that was sure caught on camera, then the messy BAU photoshoot started. Everyone traded places every three pictures, and in the last set you ended up in the middle of Emily and Hotch. There he went again, clearing his voice just to say nothing. He hesitated to place a hand on you, so you did him the favor and broke his awkwardness by wrapping your arm around his waist—and Emily’s too, of course.

         “Is that a new perfume?” She sniffed next to your ear.

         “It is,” you acted surprised, turning your head to her but clutching your hand against Hotch’s waist to get his attention—as if it wasn’t already on you. You’d sprayed some of the perfume he kept at your place and some of yours too over it, creating a whole new scent.

         “I like it. It’s very… you.”

         “Thanks.”

         You could tell Aaron was trying hard to stay away from you as much as he could, leaning more to the opposite side. You did the same, pretending that Emily was the only person you were taking pictures with.

         Then after the rest of the guests got pictures with the newlyweds too, the party began. The team had their own designated table. You took a short bathroom break before settling and when you came back, the only empty seat was next to Hotch.

         There was no other choice, but you weren’t complaining.

         Your dress lifted to your mid-thighs as you sat down and it got even higher when you crossed your legs, exposing your bare skin a lot more. Aaron shifted on his seat, bringing his clasped hands up attempting to cover his mouth.

         He got so damn tense.

         “What’s the menu?” You asked everyone, subtly moving your legs under the table to touch Hotch’s.

         “You, apparently.” JJ raised her brows, gesturing behind you. “The photographer’s had his eyes on you all night.”

         “What?” You asked with a soft laugh, genuinely clueless.

         “Oh my god!” Penelope grabbed Jj’s arm in surprise. “I thought that was my imagination! He’s smoking hot.”

         You turned your head and caught the guy pointing the camera at your table. He really was attractive, but Jj might have been exaggerating because he gave you the kindest smile.

         “The alcohol is getting to your head already.” You rolled your eyes and scooted your chair closer to the table.

         “I don’t blame him, though.” Emily eyed you up and down while whistling. Even Spencer took a good look at you.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more pictures of you in there than Savannah.”

         “Well, he better take pictures of my good side if that’s the case,” you played along.

         “Oh sweets, you don’t have a bad sid–” Three constant clinks of metal hitting a glass got everyone’s attention. “Quiet now.” Penelope shushed herself, getting her phone out again to record Derek’s sister’s speech. “Sarah’s gonna talk.”

         Aaron subtly moved his leg under the table and kept his feet next to yours. Whenever you sat next to him at the round table—which wasn't often—his feet always found yours. It was his way of saying he wasn’t being cold towards you as he pretended to be. And you hoped that was a new way of showing he’d gotten a little jealous about the hot photographer.

         You wanted to tease him about it, run your fingers through the back of his head and assure him you had eyes for him only. Because you did, more so when he'd chosen one of his navy blue and perfect-tailored suits that made it hard keeping your hands to yourself.

         You took a quick glance at his usually furrowed brows before focusing on the fun stories family members had to tell. You had a permanent smile on your face during dinner as they talked about Savannah's childhood and teenage years. There was a lot you didn't know about her despite her becoming one of your closest friends.

         Unlike Derek. You'd heard at least ten different versions of the same stories and you never got tired of it. And on a more serious note, his mom brought up his dad with pictures of him projected on a screen, reminding Derek how proud he truly must be for his son starting his own family.

         Morgan being emotional has always got to you. You knew how much he wished his son could’ve had the chance to meet his grandfather, but the sad moments didn’t last long. The dessert brought the sweetness and soon, it was time to get to the dance floor.

         You weren’t the greatest dancer, but you knew how to move so you were designated to keep the guests motivated to dance with the other. You took the chance to at least dance one song with everyone—including Hotch. You tried to keep things low-key as always, so you decided to walk up to him, choosing to dance with Rossi first.

         “Wanna dance?” You stretched out your hand to him.

         “Ehh...” David hesitated. “Maybe later. Take Aaron first.”

         “Don’t be lazy, Rossi. Come on.” You played it cool, ignoring Aaron completely.

         “I’ll sacrifice myself for you.” Hotch tapped David’s shoulder as he took the last sip of his drink and rose from his chair.

         “Sacrifice yourse-?” You looked at Hotch with a frown then waved your hand dismissively mid-sentence, casually holding him by his arm and said to Rossi, “You can’t escape me, Dave.”

         “If you find me,” he barked back and worked his way to the bar with his empty glass in his hand.

         You shared a casual laugh with Aaron as your feet took you to the dance floor.

         “Don’t make it awkward.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. Nothing special, just like you’d done with Spencer a few songs earlier. The only difference was that Spencer didn’t make you feel like the prettiest girl in the room.

         “I’m not,” he chuckled next to your ear and kept his hand respectfully over your upper back while the other stayed just a little lower as if you were made out of glass.  

         There’d been two slow songs in a row and the DJ didn’t seem to have the intention to change the mood just yet. They even lowered the lights, creating a romantic ambiance. Or maybe that was just your imagination and the fact that you were actually in his arms with everyone around like you’ve always wanted.

         “We’ve never danced before,” you murmured close to his ear trying to keep an unamused face. You prayed your voice got lost with the music so the people dancing around you couldn’t hear how you were trying to flirt with him.

         “We haven’t.” He softened his voice too. “But we’ve done way more than that.”

         There was a twitch of a smile threatening to take over your lips, but you didn’t let it slip. Instead, you took a deep breath and slowly let it out as you said, “We have.”

         It was strange. You were used to having his hands on you behind closed doors;  inside a room where the only noise was his heartbeat against your ear. But like you said, you weren’t about to make it awkward. You cherished the moment because this was probably the closest you’ll ever get to be with him in front of everyone without them saying a thing. So you stayed there, hands clasped behind his neck as if it meant nothing – as if they weren’t shaking; as if you weren’t dying to just grab his face, kiss him in the middle of the dance, and whisper I love you for the first time one breath away from his soft lips.

         “You’re tense,” he murmured.

         “So are you.” You smiled, finding Jj’s eyes over Aaron’s shoulder along the way.

         You pretended the smile was because of her and made an uncomfortable face, gesturing at Hotch with wide eyes. She’d never said a thing to you, but you were afraid she might be the only one who could suspect something about you and Hotch.

         You were casually texting Hotch who was only a few feet away from you in his office about the plans you two had for the night, and you didn’t notice Jj had walked up to you from behind. She scared the shit out of you and you suspiciously locked your phone.

         " Hiding something ?" She raised her brows.

         " Uh… it's a surprise ," you lied. Which she believed—or you hoped she did—since her birthday was coming soon.

         You told Hotch about it and he reminded you to be more careful when you made it to his place later that night. And though you liked how things were with him, you couldn’t deny that type of coldness hurt a little too.

         “Is that really my perfume?” He kept his voice quiet.

         “I don’t know. Is it?”

         He subtly breathed you in and you almost melted in his arms. “It’s sweeter on you.”

         You caught the photographer shooting pictures of you and Aaron and you waited until he moved around to tell Hotch, “I– I booked us a room. I thought since you gave us off tomorrow we could enjoy this place a little more.”

         “What am I supposed to do with that information?”

         “811,” you said before the song ended.

         Breaking that dance left you with an empty feeling. That’d never happened to you before – missing him while he was in the same room as you – but for whatever reason, that dance meant a lot to you.

         You tried to fill in that hole by dancing with the girls though it didn’t work much. You took a break from dancing and made your way to a quiet lounge room in the open. The sky was clear and the soft breeze was the only one who kept you company as you finished your third glass of wine.

         “Do you mind some company?” An unfamiliar voice said from behind.

         “Jesus christ!” You brought your hand to your chest startled.

         Maybe it was enough wine for the night.

         You turned around and caught a charming smile and a camera hanging from his neck.

         “Sorry,” the photographer laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

         “No, you’re fine,” You laughed too.

         “I’m Louis.”

         You shook his hand and introduced yourself too. It may have been the alcohol but the guy was really funny and got to make you laugh more than once. You would’ve kept having a good time if he hadn’t tried to be smart.

         “So, would you like to grab a drink with me after the wedding?”

         Of course, he was trying to get inside your panties. What a turn-off.

         “Sorry, but I’m taken,” you said without hesitation.

         You really weren’t, though.

         “Oh,” he looked around. “Well, is he here?”

         Speak of the devil.

         A silhouette at the corner of your eyes stole your attention.

         There was Aaron—and Morgan—walking to the lounge room too with drinks in their hands. You wondered who’s idea was it to come just when you were being hit on by some guy.

         Derek teased you with his brows while there was nothing humorous on Aaron’s face. You focused on Louis again, but the smile on your face was because of Hotch. Jealous Hotch.  

         “No,” you finally responded, sighing deep. “But I don’t see how that matters. I’m still taken.”

         “You’re right, you’re right.”

         Nothing about Louis was interesting after you studied his behaviour and read his intentions. Still, you let him flirt with you—and definitely pretended to flirt back hoping Aaron would notice—until he excused himself to go back to his job.

         You wiggled your fingers as a goodbye and slowly made your way to Morgan and Hotch, making your heels clack more than you had to.

         “Someone took a special interest in you,” was the first thing Morgan said.

         You stood in front of them, clasping your hands behind your back, and shrugged carelessly. “You think?”

         "Princess, don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

         “What do you mean?”

         “Batting those eyelashes, laughing too much, touching his shoulder–”

         “You think that was flirting?” you cut him off.

         “It was to me.” Morgan looked at Hotch.

         “Hotch?” You—subtly—taunted. “You think that was flirting?”  

         It wasn’t the first time someone has hit on you right in front of him, but police officers weren’t as much of a threat to him as a photographer was, apparently.

         “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you flirt—” he confidently responded “—so I wouldn’t know.”

         “I’ve seen her. She does this thing with her eyes,” Morgan kept going. “I’m telling you, Hotch, she was flirting.”

         “That was bad flirting.” You rolled your eyes. “Which somehow still works with guys like him.”

         “ Bad flirting? Well now I want to see your good flirting,” Derek continued, but his duties as a groom were needed and his name being called from the microphone saved you from that.

         It was just you and Hotch now.

         “Aren’t you afraid people are gonna see us, alone?” You stayed put on your feet, holding back the urge to get closer to him.

         “Not really, we’re just talking.” He raised his brows as he spoke.

         “We are.” Your eyes went to his lips and lingered there as you licked your own. “Party should be over soon, so… I’ll go back inside now. Are you coming?”

         “In a little bit.” He gestured at his drink.

         “Okay.” You took a step back. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

         “811,” he responded, sliding one hand inside his pocket and saluting you with his glass with the other.

         You subtly tugged your bottom lip in between your teeth and eyed him up and down. You knew exactly what you were doing, indeed. “811.”

         “Is this what your good flirting looks like?” He asked in a teasing tone as you were about to turn around.

         “I don’t know.” You matched his voice, tilting your head to the side. “I’m not very good at it.”

         He gave you a look that pierced through you, but you didn’t expose yourself and left him all alone.

         You impatiently counted heads once the guests started to leave and shared a few secret glances with Aaron the rest of the night, which built in the anticipation. But sooner than later, the party was finally over.  

         “Who’s leaving with us?” Emily massaged her temple.

         You didn’t pay attention to who answered as you were searching for Hotch. At this point, you weren’t even trying to be subtle about missing him, but he’d vanished.

         Or so you thought.

         You made it to your room almost with your heart broken, but when you checked your phone, his name lit up on the screen.

         I’m gonna walk around for a while.

         He was being careful—as always.

         The alcohol had worn off already, and you needed some more. You ordered a bottle of wine to the room to make the wait more bearable and paced back and forth around the room waiting for it until the expected knock on your door blared inside the bedroom.

         You smoothed down your dress and slowly worked your way to the door, dragging it open.

         Not room service.

         Aaron's broad shadow was standing there, both hands in his pocket.

         “Didn’t front desk give you a key?” You let him in.

         He shut the door behind him and kept on walking, forcing you to take a few steps back as he said, “they did.”

         “Then why did you knock?” You stopped in the middle of the room.

         “To make it more interesting.”

         “You’re funny,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck the way you'd meant to do while you danced, staring up at him. “Did anyone see you?”

         “No.” He delicately brushed his fingers across your cheek and placed a tender kiss on the other. “Did you have fun?”

         “Yeah.” You grabbed his tie to bring him closer and closed your eyes. “You?”

         “This dress—” he murmured in your ear “—had me distracted the entire evening.”

         “I knew you’d like me in it.”

         He smirked as his lips traveled from your jaw to the corner of your mouth. Then he finally kissed you.

         It was tender—too tender.

         “It was made for you.” He ran his thumb over your bottom lip while murmuring against them.

         “It was made for you to take it off,” you whispered and brought your hands to the back of his head, pressing your lips with his into the wet, desperate kiss you’ve been wanting all night.

         His arms enveloped you entirely and his tongue didn’t hesitate to sweep yours. You’ve longed to have his rough touch melting into your skin for what seemed ages. It was always like that. After spending an entire day treating each other like any other mortal—when it was just the two of you—you both acted like two different people that had too many clothes. But it was more than that too.

         To you, at least. And you liked to think that it was mutual.

         “It’s always hard to keep my eyes and hands off you,” he said out of breath, letting the kiss rest. “But today—” he pecked your lips “—you almost made me want to risk it all.”

         You returned the gentle kiss. “Why didn’t you?”

         That was a heartfelt question that he’d rather let get lost in the desire.

         His lips collided with yours again as his hands confidently sneaked under your dress, groping you with hunger. “God, I knew you were wearing the tiniest panties under it.”

         “I chose these for you too.” You whimpered when he lifted his mouth to your neck and nibbled your skin.

         “Not wedding appropriate at all,” he murmured in a playful tone while kissing your shoulder. He teased the strap of your dress with the tip of his tongue, lifting it off your skin and pulling it down your arm with his teeth. “Do you have to return it?”

         “No,” you gasped. “It’s mine.”

         “Good, because I’m gonna fuck you in it.” He scooped you by your thighs and plopped you on the bed, settling in between your legs. He trailed kisses from your mouth down your jaw and neck, getting rid of his jacket and tie in the process. “You should wear my perfume more often,” he panted onto the crook of your neck, nibbling your skin.

         “Does it turn you on?” Your hands flew to tug on his hair. “Smelling yourself on me?”

         With each of his kisses, your desire for him grew. Your heartbeat dropped to your pussy within seconds and it was nothing but ache and warm arousal leaking off you.

         “Everything about you makes me hard.” He started to grind his hips while his lips went back to capture yours. “The things you do to me, can you feel it?”

         You moaned into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his waist. His erection rubbed against you, nestling almost too perfectly in between your still clothed folds.

         “Yeah.” You bucked your hips to meet his.

         “Yeah?” He pulled back, breaking the desperate kiss.

         This time you were only able to nod and lift your hips off the bed to help him get rid of your panties. He dragged them down your thighs teasingly slow and threw them in the air.

         The hungry look in his eyes while he lowered himself and lifted your dress up to your waist sent sparkles all over you. Your bare flesh was exposed to him now and though it was fascinating how he seemed to be at your will when you were that weak in front of him, you couldn’t deny how intimidating it was.

         “I need you so bad.” You bent your legs up to your chest, tempting him with how wet you were.

         He petted your sensitive clit with his thumb twice with a cocky smile before making himself comfortable by rolling up his sleeves and laying on his stomach so his arms would wrap around your thighs. His face now was one kiss away from your slick folds.

         That embarrassed you in the beginning—how fucking wet he made you and how fast—but that only meant how much you wanted him, and you knew he loved the effect he had on you.

         “How much do you want to come?” He kissed your inner thighs, digging his fingers on them too.

         “Surprise me.” You relaxed your arms above your head, ready to receive whatever he wanted.

         He ghosted a smile over you before circling the tip of his nose on your clit. You were so sensitive there already your body jerked a little at that first contact. His nose then was replaced with his chin, tracing rougher circles, and when he laid a light-feather kiss right there , you decided to close your eyes and enjoy the endless minutes of pleasure Aaron was about to give you.

         There was no doubt he truly enjoyed being nose deep in between your legs, so you never felt bad when it was just him who used his mouth like that during sex.

         “ That feels so good, ” you praised him, bringing your hand to his hair and running your fingers through it.

         He hummed in response, sucking your clit into his mouth with light pressure and smoothly adding two fingers inside of you.

         You rolled your hips against his face and in no time stars took over your eyes.

         “Oh my g– mmm.” You pressed your lips together to shut yourself up because, shit, you were being embarrassingly loud and you didn’t want to let everyone know how good you were being fucked by Aaron’s mouth.

         “I’ve been waiting all day to hear you moan.” He kept going with his skilled motions . “Let me hear you.”

         His pleas were powerful and you couldn’t avoid letting yourself go. You moaned—loud—and smiled through it all because he deserved to know how good he made you feel; how good he was to you; how generous.

         After that one, he went in—all in.

         God, Aaron.

         Fuck.

         Just like that.

         Please don’t stop.

         Your mouth went dry from how much you praised him and gasped in pleasure. His mouth was exquisite. Every flick of his tongue and each sloppy sound he made brought you closer and closer to the—

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         —Clouds.

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         You were snapped out of what was supposed to be your fourth orgasm, propping yourself on your elbows.

         Knock. Knock. Knock.

         “Fuck,” you threw yourself back down in annoyance. “I ordered that like half an hour ago.”

         “That what?” Aaron said and went back to eat you out.

         “ Mmh, wine.”

         “More wine?” He reached for the closest piece of clothing and wiped his mouth, chin and fingers with them.

         “What are you doing?”

         “I’ll be right back.”

         He took a moment to adjust his erection inside his pants and worked his way to receive the wine.

         “Thanks.”  

         The way he just casually said that got a laugh from you.

         “What?” He placed the wine and two glasses over the night stand.

         “Do you think he could tell what you were doing just now?” you laughed again, propping your knee up and playing with the hem of your dress.

         “I hope he did.” He crawled in bed next to you and smiled into a kiss, sneaking his hand in between your legs.

         He started to massage your clit right away. It felt good, but you needed him. “Hotch, just fuck me already.”

         “Give me one more.” He grunted mid-sentence. “One more and then I’m all yours.”

         How could you ever say no to that?

         He rubbed your clit like he was against the clock, so fast and with the perfect amount of pressure.

         There was that pleasure building once again.

         Your sweet moans bounced within the room as the tingling sensations spread through you.

         "Fuck, Hotch I—" you fisted the bed covers under you and turned your head to him searching for his eyes.

         "I know, honey , I know." He had his eyes shut and brushed his nose across your cheek, subtly hissing under his breath as if he was in pain.

         That word only slipped when he was pleasing you. You reached for his hand while you came, clenching and unclenching around his fingers.

         You swept your tongue across his top lip to thank him with a desperate kiss. You hadn’t noticed how he had his eyes shut and his brows furrowed. You kept your eyes open to admire how much he was enjoying it and let your voice be free.

         “There we go,” he whispered. “Good. So, so good.”

         “It feels so good,” you whimpered.

         “I know it does.” He kept lightly tapping your sensitive clit making your body jerk a few times. “Feels so good for me too.”

         “Fuck. Please?” You begged.

         He brought his milked fingers up to your mouth and slid them in and out so you’d clean them up, and pecked your cheek as if saying yes, now.

         You clasped your mouths together and stood on your knees to help him get rid of his clothes between more desperate kisses. Your fingers shook as you undid his belt, and when all of his clothes ended up scattered over the floor, you lay on your back.

         He adjusted himself in between your legs and slapped the head of his cock over your clit a few times while pinching your nipples, turning them into tight tempting buds.

         “Fill me in, please,” you bit your lip, roaming your hands up and down over his forearms and biceps.

         He reached for his pants and got a condom from his pocket. Your first time with him was the only time you took him raw, and you had to admit you wanted his bare skin rubbing inside of you again.

         You stayed quiet while he tore the foil open and rolled it down his length, then without much warning, Hotch grabbed you by your hips and harshly flipped you around, angling your ass up in full display for him. You gasped between a small startled laugh, your cheek pressed onto the pillow.

         It wasn’t often that he allowed himself to be this harsh with you, but when he did you knew you were about to be sent out of the orbit.

         “Sorry about that,” he said in a cocky, deep voice that only got a moan from you in a positive response.

         One hand circled your ass while the other guided his cock at your entrance, slipping it in just a bit. You wiggled your ass and continued what he started, letting him inside you inch by slow inch.

         He groaned like a god and slid your dress up to your ribs, almost, but you didn’t want it off just yet. Like he said, you were waiting for him to fuck you in it. He withdrew his hips a bit to plunge hard into you again, making your ass bounce violently.

         Then began to pound into you—hard.

         You reached for his forearm and held onto it, glancing at him over your shoulder but your own smile distracted you mid way through.

         There was a mirror perfectly placed by the bed, giving you the breathtaking view of Aaron slamming his body into yours from behind. It was mesmerizing—the way he threw his head back and licked his lips while gripping your hips until his fingertips disappeared into your skin.

         You made eye contact with yourself, bringing your hand up to your mouth and caught your own moans against your palm, dissolving in the moment. The curves of his cock fit you everywhere and reached your spot with each of his loud thrusts.

         “ Oh shit, oh fuck. ” You muffled your moans into a pillow, squeezing your eyes shut.

         That’s never been one of your preferred positions. He went too deep and it’d hurt at times, but it hurt so damn good you arched your back even more and let yourself drown in the way he dug himself in you.

         “ So fucking good. ” You smiled, “ fuck, fuck ,fuck .”

         By the time your skin was glowing red by how hard his skin slammed against yours, you stood up on your knees and pressed your back onto his chest, turning your head asking for a kiss. He gave you his tongue while his hands reached for the hem of your dress, pulling it up and finally peeling it off your skin in the middle of softer thrusts.

         He pulled you close and kept plunging into you until his breathings grew loud, his muscles tensed and his cock twitched inside of you, groaning deep at the back of your head. He wrapped his arms around you like his life depended on it—with a kind of passion that could’ve easily been mistaken with love.

         You turned your head searching for his lips and return that same passion, but he circled his nose with yours and ghosted your lips with his breath.

         A tender frown took over his face while his eyes scanned your face from up close.  There was a glimpse of vulnerability in him right then. You couldn’t quite read what it meant, but it weakened you on the inside.

         “God, look at you.” He smiled, and finished with one last soft kiss.

         You both dropped like dead weight on the bed facing each other, legs and arms interlaced together.

         It was still there—that look. You could almost see right through him.

         He took a moment to toss the condom into the trash then joined you in bed again, bringing you close into a hug.

         “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I know you want to be home when Jack gets back.”

         “I’d love to stay.” He kissed you. “But yeah, tomorrow we have early soccer practice.”

         You returned the kiss while nodding and brought your hand up to stroke his cheek. It was soft and cold with sweat which you kindly brushed away with your thumb.

         If someone asked you two years ago if you ever imagined yourself like this—with an after-sex glow—because of Aaron Hotchner, you would’ve bursted out laughing. You still couldn’t understand how you ended up finding the love you always wanted in someone you’d known for half a decade.

         Sometimes, all those years where nothing more than a polite handshake and respectful hugs happened felt like a waste of time. Other times, you convinced yourself it was meant to happen that way.

         You stared at each other in silence and just the sound of the city in the background.

         “Did you get jealous tonight?” You spoke after a moment, tracing random patterns over his chest.

         His brows raised, thinking about it. “I might’ve.”

         “I kinda’ liked it.”

         “I bet you did.” He pecked your lips almost to erase your mocking smile.

         “It suits you. The jealousy.”

         “Well, it’s not a very nice feeling.”

         “But it’s hot.”

         “Oh?” He licked his lips. “You think I’m hot?”

         “I didn’t say that.”

         “I think you did.” He kissed your ear.

         You let him pepper you with kisses. Kisses that felt like home. Kisses that made you want to break the stupid wall you both had built and just confess how much you loved him; how you wanted those kisses all over your skin for the rest of your life.

         “Hotch?” Your voice came out small as if anyone else could hear you.

         “Mmh?” He groaned into another kiss.

         “I– I think I–” I think I love you. “I think I’m gonna go home too.”

         “You sure?” He pulled back and frowned with curiosity.

         “Yeah.”

         “Okay, I’ll call us a cab.”

         “Okay. I’m gonna shower first.”

         “Care if I join you?”

         “Not at all.”

         You ended up doing way more than just showering together, though.

         There was a large window in front of a spacious jacuzzi that let in the shimmering city lights. You didn’t even know you’d booked such a fancy hotel room. It was the perfect place to drink that expensive bottle of wine.

         You both relaxed in the tub, drinking off the bottle between slightly drunk laughs.

         Time with Hotch went by too fast, and if you hadn’t spilled the last drops of the wine in the bath you would've stayed there until the morning.

         “Now you can call your taxi friend.” You wiped a happy tear from the corner of your eye, wrapping yourself in a towel.

         You walked back to the room and searched for your dress. It’d landed over his jacket as if they were two matching pieces made by the same tailor.

         You handed him his clothes and dressed together, stealing glances. You really wanted to stay the night with him. You almost provoked him with the dress so you both ended up in bed again, but you kept your cool and made it out of the room.

         You were waiting for the elevator when someone came out of the room right next to it.

         Oh no.

         “What’s going on here?” Morgan’s eyes widened as he made a little gesture between you and Hotch with his pointer finger.

         “I– uh…” You looked up at Aaron. He was just as flustered as you, and the alcohol in your blood didn’t help much. “We uh–”

         It took Derek three seconds to put two and two together.

         “Please don’t tell me it was you who had that moaning symphony going on.”

         “W–what?” Your face was burning right now.

         “Hotch? Really?” Morgan seemed more hurt than anything else. He was your best friend after all.

         “I’ll explain it to you when you get back from your honeymoon.” You reached for Aaron’s hand and walked away as fast as you could without looking back while saying loudly, “Have fun in Cancún!”

         You hurried through the hotel hallways, paid the room and hopped in the back of the taxi without saying a word to each other. If you hadn’t booked a room at the same hotel, Morgan would’ve never found out and your most precious relationship would’ve still been a secret.

         The ride was quiet, but Aaron never let go of your hand. At least, he wasn’t mad about it. Or if he was, he didn’t want you to know. You felt guilty about it, but it felt so good too. You stayed looking out the window to avoid looking at him.

         Fifteen minutes later, he broke the silence.

         “Hey.” You turned your head to him and stared for the longest second before he spoke again, “I love you. Secret’s out. And I don’t want to hide us anymore. There’s no reason to.”

         Your heart started to race so fast inside your chest you couldn’t form any coherent words.

         “We’re here.” The driver glanced at you both through the rearview mirror.

         You were still trying to process what the love of your life had just said.

         “Hey, love birds, I ain’t got all night. It’s thirty bucks and counting,” the man spoke again.

         “Do you want to come inside? So that I can show you how much I love you too?” Was all you could say as you reached inside your purse to shut the driver up.

         But he didn’t. “Tik tok, tik tok, my friends.”

         “I–” Aaron sucked in a short breath, reaching for his wallet faster than you and handing the man his money. “I think that’s a good idea.”

[tarotwithavi]

☉ Sun in houses ☉

Sun sort of magnifies the house it falls in so yeah a post about our dear sun.

These post are general and won't resonate 100% because we have to consider other aspects too.

☉ Sun in 1st ☉

Now I have seen that sun in 1st people may come off as leo rising. These people are very optimistic. These people tend to get recognized for their creativity and self expression. The main motive of their life is self expression and inspiring people. These people can become narcissistic too but we'll look into that later. Their self of sense is their physical body and how they show themselves to people and most of the time these people are very well dressed and may sometimes overdressed. They want to appear best at all times. Very confident individuals and won't even second guess themselves. They might come off as too strong or too confident. Another thing I have noticed is that sun in 1st house people usually think that they are main character and everybody in their life is just a side character. Though they like to helpothers and care for them but mostly they would try to give them what they think is right for them not what the other person needs. Something like "I think you deserve this so I'm giving you this not matter if you want it or not ".

☉ Sun in 2nd ☉

Sun in 2nd house people get their sense of self from money and assets. Now this placement can make someone love art or have a keen eye for art. The thing people notice most about these people is their sense of style and their aesthetic. This placement can make some overly materialistic too. I have seen that these people are very confident and know their self worth. Elegance is something they just have. These people will have a career that's very creative and in which they can express themselves. These people come off as possessive and are a bit controlling. This placement gives you great success too. The type to always carry extra cash with themselves. Also I have noticed that people who have sun in 2nd house have a raspy and authoritative voice. These people can also have a rich family history or if not then no matter how bad their family history is they will always glorify it. The type of people who sometimes loose touch with reality. Their father can be a government worker, teachers, artist etc.

☉ Sun in 3rd ☉

Sun in the third house people are the chatter machine but depends if there are another aspects too. These people love to chat and talk with people. I have seen that thes people are always expanding their knowledge and their sense of self comes from their mind and intelligence. If they don't know something about a certain topic they tend to feel stupid so that's why these people tend to thrive for knowledge. These are the people that'll make a slideshow just to prove their point and that they are right. These people are very might liked by their peers, schoolmates, colleagues etc. These people have easily influence others too. The trend setters. Overthinker. Brain seems to be all over the place. They can also have not-so-good relationships with their siblings or they are not able to communicate freely with their siblings. Their sense of ego comes from the way they communicate and also sun in 3rd house people are the most courageous people you'll ever know. These people can become journalist, news reporter, writer, poets or a social media influencer.

☉ Sun in 4th ☉

The secretive homebody. These people like to stay inside more than outside and these are the people who are more likely to work from home. Their sense of self comes from their home, family and the friends they consider their family. These people like to decorate their house and make it aesthetic. These people are very secretive and don't really like it when people interfere in their personal life. They don't like it when people ask them personal question about their family. Sun in 4th house people are very intune with their intuition And their emotions. Very protective and loyal person. These people are comfortable with expressing themselves only when they with people who are like family to them. Sun in 4th house can also mean that your mother did most of the parenting while your father was away. This placement can also give a absent father. Another this I have noticed is that these people struggle a lot in their early life. And their mother has a lot of significance in their creativity. These people also like to cook.

☉ Sun in 5th ☉

Very creative and goofy person. Their sense of self comes from expressing themselves in front of people. Might be a little show off. The class clown type of energy. These people love dares. The social butterfly with the most authentic and unique personality. The extreme extrovert. These people love expressing themselves through creative projects. Probably the type to take part in every activity. The type to always be involved in something creative or have crazy life experiences. The popular jock type of energy. I have also noticed that these people are very well liked by their seniors / teachers /bosses too. These people take good care of their body and might be into sports too. Since sun feels comfortable in this house it gives very creative mind. Also these people love history, politics, ancient sculptures etc. Sun in 5th house people like to be at the top in education field. The topper of the class while also being entertaining. Their sense of self also comes from their children. These people will raise their children with all the good things in life. These people also have talent for performing.

☉ Sun in 6th ☉

Sun in the 6th house people are very concerned about their health, what they eat and how they maintain their daily routine. Their sense of self comes from their routine and work. So if they're not following the routine properly or doing something properly they loose their sense of self. These people are workaholics and people know them for their work . Good health is very important for them and these people are the type to always have sanitizer with themselves. You know just to clean their hands all the time. They really maintain their body too. You know when you see someone who's always reapplying lotions, sunscreen etc there are chances that they are virgo sun or they have their sun in 6th house. They hate when they get sick. I have also noticed that these people win over their enemies. Somehow their own friends can feel competitive with them. These people like helping others and might be doctors, therapists or into social services etc. Their parents can also be doctors. These people solve arguments and fights. Sometimes father can also blame his own failures on others.

☉ Sun in 7th ☉

The friendly person. Sun in 7th house really magnifies someone's relationship and partnerships. You see these people always look for friendship and relationships to find a sense of self. Simply their sense of self comes from their relationships with people. The type to have a crazy dating life .These people can also date or even marry someone who's very popular or famous. They tend to have great relationships with people around them. Honestly speaking some people might even call them bitchy or ve rude to them for no apparent reason. They always come across people or date someone who's their reflection. So they can date or marry someone who's just a reflection of themselves. People with this placement also have a hard time having fun by themselves. They seek validation from other and I have also seen that other project their insecurities on these people. These people can have problems in their dating life. Sun in 7th house people tend to feel incomplete but of course will have to see if there are other aspects or not.

☉ Sun in 8th ☉

Well well well the type of placement that gives obsessive and mean OBSESSIVE fans haha. I have seen that people who has sun in the 8th house just know how to draw people in. Like they can be doing nothing but breathing and people will still be drawn to them. Very secretive, magnetic and mysterious type of placement. These people are very special. Special in everything they do. I have also seen that people who have these placement love to research about the occult but they won't let people know that they are interested in that. 8th house and scorpio influence makes them very secretive about their interests, talents, personal life etc. Also these people won't just invite people over. They only invite people whom they trust to the core. Also tend to have a love-hate relationship with people. One day everyone loves them and the other day everyone just despise them out of the blue. They also go through a lot of transformations in their life. Might even change jobs alot. These people can become politicians, researchers, paranormal investigator etc.

☉ Sun in 9th ☉

Okay so I have seen be very much influenced by their father with this placement. Either you had a great relationship with your father or a bad relationship. Not in between. This placement also makes a person very righteous. Like these people will always lecture people what is right and what is wrong but when someone else lectures them they don't like it much. I have also seen that these people will have a number of rules that they will never break. They like to know about different cultures and religion and this placement can also make someone very religious. I have seen that these people really don't like it when people try to put them in a box Because this placement is all about expansion so putting these people in a box is like putting a black hole in box and you can't right? It will basically destroy the box. Just take that as an example for these people. They can also travel a lot in their life or their work involves travelling. These people can also work with foreigners or foreign things. Others can also see them as a "know it all" Or a smartazz.

☉ Sun in 10th ☉

This placement is something to thrive for. This is also a popularity placement . These people are very well liked by the people in general and if not liked then it can also be that unknowingly you're very popular. Like in your school/college/work everyone knows you and even the people you never talked to. This is also trendsetter placement. People are very much inspired by these people. One more thing about them is that these people can't work under anyone . They HATE it when someone gives them orders or nags them. So the thing here is that these people will have to do something that makes them the boss. Also no matter what they do they'll always succeed in that. But with this placement there also come people who will come after them because sun here can give a big ego . They can be opposed by the people. But these people will deal with them easily. I have seene great leadership qualities with these placements. If you put them in a group with others there's a high chance that they'll influence half of the people in the group.

☉ Sun in 11th ☉

Okay so whenever I see this placement the first thing that comes to my mind is the eldest child. Because most of the eldest kids I know have this placement. This can be a very challenging placement because these people have a great ego and won't give other credit. They also have a hard time making friends or continuing a friendship. If they want to they can break a 10 year friendship like nothing. These people are also very egoistic. Though these people get recognize for their work they don't consider others opinions and won't give someone credit. No matter how much you have done for them, one mistake and it's done for you fr. This placement can also give a difficult relationship with network circle. These people have big dreams and will work to achieve them. This placement gives problems with father or father figure and authority. This placement can also damaged relationships with friends, social circle and siblings. Since 11th house is the house of wealth it gives a person great material wealth and a long life. It also makes a person a great leader.

☉ Sun in 12th ☉

This placement can make someone very creative and imaginative. I have also seen that these people have can became a disappointment for their father. If not this then there is definitely some sort of conflict going on with their father. Or they can live far away from their father or parents I general. This placement also makes someone very secretive. For example they are banned in 12 countries and that'll never let you know. Of course this is just an example. It can be anything. Sun in 12 house people have a lot of hidden talents that they like to keep hidden. This is a great placement for foreign settlement. Also these people can have more popularity in foreign land then their own country. Also one this is that these people won't like in their homeland for a long time. They will change areas. People with this placement have a isolated childhood or a not so good childhood. It can even be that they were so privileged that they didn't get to do normal things like playing with other children etc. This placement also gives great talent for song writing, poetry , script writing etc because of great imagination.

Masterlist

I am not a professional, these are the things I have observed so far . Let me know your thoughts and I'm open to criticism too. Just be nice lol.

[jamilelucato]

The Writer and The Illustrator (Part 01)

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Miss [y/n] Summary: Miss [y/n] is not your average young lady, for she is also W. Jabber, a talented writer who challenges societal norms. All was well until her publisher presented her with a new challenge—to write a children's book disguised for adult readers and to have it illustrated. And to help her with the task, she knows only one good painter in London. Age rating: although this chapter is pretty chill for younger audiences, the next parts will have more explicit scenes, so let's keep it 18+. Author's note: I said I'd be back with the Bridgerton boys, and here I am! Benedict, for the win! Hope you guys like it! (Part 02 here!) To read Anthony's fic, click here! For other stories, click here. Enjoy! Miss [y/n] was a writer. A good one, she dared add. Of course, that was unnoticed by the people of the ton, who would not have appreciated female writing, even if it was that great.

For that precise reason, Miss [y/n] prospered in a secret double life, where she was a pleasant lady by day and a fierce author by night. Her publisher was the only man she considered a friend since he knew her true identity and was present in both parts of her life. Needless to say, such an intelligent and refined man, capable of admiring penmanship made by a woman, would already have a wife. And would be dangerously too old to be anything more than an extra father figure in Miss [y/n] 's history.

Being close and such, Mister Brendy often challenged [y/n] 's writing abilities, encouraging her to try new styles in every new book. He'd often advise her towards writing the genre most wanted by the public at that specific time, and [y/n] was always quick to agree — as she held Mr Brendy's opinions very highly. Also, her family desperately needed the money [y/n] provided anonymously. Pretending it was a subsidy presented by an old aunt from the country, the young woman allowed her family some great comfort; furthermore, she permitted herself the luxury of new dresses every season.

"Good afternoon, Mr Brendy. How are you this evening?"

The sky wasn't fully dark when Miss [y/n] popped into the tiny printer's shop, but she was confident enough that nobody followed her in; thus, she modelled no cape or undistinguished clothing. She was merely herself before her old chum and a couple more teen-boy workers.

"Very well, dear," the printer replied, holding a modest smile. Mr Brendy had gently round features, and his smile, even the smallest ones, was exceptionally pleasant to witness. "Hope you're ready to hear your next challenge."

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't, Mr Brendy," she answered, lowering her eyes to the papers over his table, looking for clues to his oncoming request. Most authors did not enjoy working with demands, but [y/n] thrived with them, and she was Mr Brendy's favourite because of it.

"Well, have you how many nephews and nieces again? I always forget; I'm sorry," Mr Brendy got up and walked towards Miss [y/n]'s chair.

"No need to be sorry, Mr Brendy — I, sometimes, forget as well," she smiled. "I currently have three nephews and one baby niece. She's such a lovely newborn!"

The gentleman placed his hands in his trouser pockets, scratching his throat before saying, "Yes, newborns are usually a delight—a blessing."

"Couldn't agree more," Miss [y/n] couldn't help her anxiety taking the best of herself. "But what does my siblings' offspring have to do with my upcoming, in need of writing, book?" 

After another scratch of his throat, Mr Brendy finally spoke his true intentions. "Do you remember when you found me shivering from the rain outside and asked if I could publish your first book? And even cold, you managed to make all these demands regarding our partnership?"

"Of course, I remember! I was a baby lassie of fifteen years of age, but wasn't I a captivating writer even then?" Miss [y/n] was only joking but noticed that Mr Brendy wasn't less tense. "Does this talk have something to do with my demands? Do you need to lower my percentage of profit?"

Dear God, she hoped not.

"Nothing of such. Your books are bestsellers, Miss [y/n]. Money is not the problem," he said. "However, your other contract demand... The one where you work alone..."

"Yes?" she was desperately nervous.

"Would you be able to make an exception?"

There was silence in the room. It felt like even the employees outside the tiny office were muted, waiting for her answer.

"I'm sorry, Mr Brendy, but what are you implying? You want me to write in association with another author, is that it?"

"Not another author per se," he gritted his teeth, and the noise startled Miss [y/n]. "No," he restarted, "I don't want your writing to get jumbled up. You have a magnetic way of putting words to paper; I would never allow anyone else to interfere with that."

"Thank you," she said, happy for the compliment, though confused about how to respond. Mr Brendy was a good man, but he rarely presented free praise.

"I want you to work partnered with a painter, an illustrator. See, this is where your nephews come to action — children's books are the latest fashion, the genre bestseller of the hour. We have no author good enough to conquer that style the way we want," he paused, "— at least no better writer than you."

She was flattered but primarily confused. Her books weren't for children. Under the name of W. Jabber, she published pieces about politics and devotion, death and art, but all of that over a darker tone, very adult if you dare. What would be her place when speaking to children? What story could she have stored to tell those little kids rushing to a bookshop, looking for the newest realise?

"I want you to write a children's story the way only you could — designed for the parents. I want it perfectly disguised so that, when a parent fetches the book — tediously and only doing it for the quietness of their offspring — they get stunned to find out the narrative is very well made for them as much as the child."

"You reckon I could write such a thing?" she asked in a second of bravery. "I don't think I can."

"Upon rereading your latest, my dear, I discovered that if anyone can, it is you," he said. "When I first read Storms of Love, I could never have deduced the novel was about the Priest falling in love with his bastard son. At first glance, the story felt like a mother missing her son when he decided to go to seminary!"

She pressed her lips together, feeling shy. It was a horrible habit, as the lady knew she looked dreadful when she did it, but she couldn't help it. How many times, during balls, did she have to hear people praising her without knowing that Jabber was [y/n]?

"Again, thank you, Mr Brendy. You know I adore compliments," Miss [y/n] tried to smile, but she couldn't disguise her dismay. "Regardless, I…"

"I would never force you, Miss [y/n]!" the printer rushed closer to her, taking the liberty of placing a hand on her covered shoulder. "But before you say anything, know that the illustrator would be one of your selections, and we could do the whole interaction anonymously if you so desire."

"It's not the teamwork that unnerves me, Mr Brendy, but the writing of a children's book for adults." Miss [y/n] stared deep into Mr Brendy's eyes, but that was a wrong choice. His big, green eyes stared at her back, filled with hope for her to accept. How could she say no to the older man who knew her more than her father?

She placed her hand over his on her shoulder before saying, "Do you truly believe I am the best option for this chef-d'oeuvre? It takes courage to defy society with a youngsters' novel."

He smiled in that way only a proud grandparent could. "Yes, I believe you can."

After the conversation with Mr Brendy, Miss [y/n] at least managed to secure the illustrator would be her pick and not be some random person chosen by the printer.

That was exceptionally tricky, however. [y/n] did not know a bunch of painters — at least not enough that were indeed talented for her intentions or kind souls that would not reveal her identity. She did not want to be Lady Whistledown's next victim.

Miss [y/n] came up with one name and one name only. It was the only name not crossed from her list made in the dim candlelight of past midnight.

Benedict Bridgerton.

Thorny indeed. Could she trust him?

She and her parents had been friends with the Bridgerton family for years now, and Francesca was what [y/n] could call her best long-distance friend, but how far did she know Benedict?

He was a second son, which did not help his reputation, but there was no denying he was a gentleman and a remarkable artist. They used to play together at Aubrey Hall when they were both too young to feel ashamed.

Benedict was her friend, at least as far as being friends with a man could go for a single lady.

Subsequently, Miss [y/n] waited for the promised ball Lady Danbury would throw for the people of the ton, anxious to see if Benedict would say yes to her proposition and not tell anyone her little secret.

"Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]," said Lady Danbury, appearing out of thin air beside the young lady, "you look nervous. What for, my dear?"

[y/n] swallowed hard. "Do I? I suppose I could look like that, but I promise I'm fine as a horse."

"If that horse is about to go racing," said the old lady sharply. "Seriously, sweetie, entertain me. I fear this is the first ball I throw where nothing good happens. It starts to hurt this hostess's feelings, you know."

"Lady Danbury, well, if you must know…." [y/n] was certainly not about to tell her the real reason beyond her nervous appearance. Lady Danbury was a lady of gossip, and that was the last thing [y/n] needed. "My mama, just yesterday…" started [y/n], but she never managed to finish her lie because Lady Danbury interrupted her with a yell.

"Mister Bridgerton!" 

Oh, Christ. [y/n] felt like she was all wet with sweat. What were the odds?

"Mister Bridgerton!" shouted the old lady again, this time prolonging the last name of the gentleman walking by.

"You know, Lady Danbury, I'm not obliged to answer since there are three 'Mister Bridgerton' alive at the moment," said Benedict, stopping closer with a grin. "Two of them are at this party right at this moment."

Lady Danbury hit him with her cane, and the gentleman pretended to feel pain beyond what he must have felt. "Very funny, Mr Bridgerton, but we both know one of them isn't even old enough to be called mister."

"Yes indeed; Colin is a not fully formed child, but I rather only Bridgertons talk about that," he joked.

Only when his giggle ceased did the tallest Bridgerton siblings notice Miss [y/n]'s presence. It was a bit embarrassing for her, as she was staring at him laughing and how magnificent he looked — so relaxed that his hair moved with the movement of his chest. She had to tilt her head quite a lot to face him, so there was no covering her gaze.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. I did not see you there."

"Clearly," Lady Danbury whispered in her condescending tone, making her sound like a teenager.

"Good evening, Mr Bridgerton," Miss [y/n] said, ignoring Lady Danbury's comment and smiling at the gentleman before her. She had been looking for him after all.

"And now you two have been officially introduced," said Lady Danbury surly, allowing no interruptions. "Can I finally talk to you, Mr Bridgerton, about what I wanted?"

"You, calling upon me, had a reason!" said the Bridgerton man at the same time Miss [y/n] burst: "We knew each other already!"

"Oh, all right," Lady Danbury sighed, defeated. Benedict and [y/n] smiled, feeling victorious — but Benedict's smile was broader. "Mr Bridgerton, I insist on talking to you as I'm sure you must be anxious to meet my niece."

"Your niece?" he echoed.

"Yes, the one coming from Chester," continued the old lady. "Winnie Danbury. You had heard about her coming, yes?"

Lady Danbury's eyes seemed challenging as if asking for one of them to deny her tellings, as [y/n] was sure no one mentioned Miss Winnie before. However, they both stayed silent, agreeing with a head shake.

"Miss Winnie Danbury," said [y/n], testing the name, "is it her first time here in London?"

Lady Danbury moved her body to face Miss [y/n] as she had partially forgotten about the girl's presence. [y/n] was a charm; the old lady had only good things to say about her, but sometimes the Miss would rather stay in a corner barely lit, which infuriated Lady Danbury. Miss [y/n] was a beauty; she needed to be seen more often — even if society didn't agree with the elderly lady.

"Yes, it is," replied the aunt. "Oh, she's beautiful, Mr Bridgerton. And so talented! Did you know she plays five different instruments?"

Of course she does, [y/n] thought, sighing to herself. The anonymous writer dreamed of playing an instrument or, at least, being able to draw. She'd like to have another artistic talent besides writing. It was well viewed when a woman played wonderfully and even painted; it all did better than writers. Writing for a woman was like talking to the devil; her great-uncle had told her once when she'd suggested she had some talent for it.

"Lady Danbury, it will, undoubtedly, be a pleasure to meet another member of your family," said the gentleman.

"Especially if she's like you," whispered [y/n], afraid her tone sounded too provocative for the old lady's ears.

"But," continued Benedict, pretending not to have heard the young woman's comment, although the left corner of his mouth indicated otherwise, "is there any reason you should be offering your niece to me?"

"Why, yes! You are the oldest Bridgerton bachelor at the moment," said Lady Danbury and turned to Miss [y/n] before restarting, "and it would be a lovely match, wouldn't it?"

[y/n] had no reason to disagree.

"Of course. A Danbury with a Bridgerton, the missing couple in London."

Lady Danbury smiled as if she knew more than those young fools, and touching Benedict with her cane, she began to depart.

"I'll leave you alone, as I feel that my mission here is already complete."

"Oh no, please," Benedict pronounced sarcastically, "stay and tell us more about Miss Winnie."

But Lady Danbury had already turned away and walked away from the two of them, focusing her attention on Penelope Featherington, who was creeping through the room, trying hard not to be noticed.

Mr Bridgerton looked immediately unnerved by the noble lady's departure as if he didn't know what to say to Miss [y/n] [y/l/n]. And he didn't.

The two had known each other for a while and were even good friends, but she remained an unmarried woman in the presence of an unmarried man, and alone, the two seldom exchanged words. They were sharp when doubled against another Bridgerton or one of her brothers, but Benedict had always seen her as just one of the women of the ton.

She had her appeal, a magnificence in disguise. For example, she didn't take anyone's breath away but wasn't ugly to look at. In addition, she had more prominent curves than other women, a virtue when it came to her cleavage but a flaw when considering her corset region.

Benedict never judged her for that. On the contrary, he liked knowing she had something he could hold onto.

No.

He didn't like it.

Why exactly am I thinking about Miss [y/n]'s curves? The gentleman chastised himself. Forget it before you say something foolish!

Miss [y/n] noticed the dreadful hush and decided to speak first since she had something to say.

"Mr Bridgerton, I... I'd like to have a word with you," she felt her cheeks flush with nervousness. "In a less... crowded place."

Benedict gulped. So he spoke aloud. Bollocks.

"I have a business proposition. Perhaps it will interest you," she resumed, relieving Benedict immediately. "You still paint, yes?"

"Yes," he replied overly quickly.

"And you draw?"

"Well, yes." The gentleman stopped talking to reminisce. Would she like a portrait? Strange. No one hired painters during balls, and never, ever should a single lady ask a gentleman for a painting (at least not if she wasn't interested in the man himself).

Does she have an interest unrevealed? He thought but renounced the idea. It was [y/n] who stood before him. The same girl who played in the mud and one day made fun of him for having such fragile hands.

She had no interest in Benedict other than his artistic gifts.

"Need a painting, Miss?"

"Not precisely…" She looked nervous. "Can you pace with me to the refreshment table?" she asked, walking over to it before hearing him nod. It was the least guarded place in the salon at that moment.

He followed her, for he was too curious to drop it.

"How would you feel…" she started saying after analysing their surround "if it was offered to you a chance to illustrate a book?"

"A book?" he echoed, a bit too loud.

[y/n] waited a bit before continuing.

"A children's book, but adults can deeply interpret it."

"That's rather specific," he pointed out. So what was the meaning of all that? How was [y/n] in any power to offer him such a proposition?

"Mr Bridgerton, I simply want to know if you could be interested. If you are not, then I'll never mention it again," she said, her voice slightly shaky, even though she was playing chilliness.

Benedict took a step further, thinking she was out of her mind and only his closeness could bring her to her senses. "How can you do me such an offer, Miss? As I recall, your father is not in the editing, writing and printing business."

She closed her eyes tight, not believing she was about to confess to Benedict Bridgerton.

"But I am."

"Yeah, right," snorted the Bridgerton gentleman, crossing his arms in front of his chest. But [y/n] stayed utterly silent; she didn't dare utter a word, and Benedict could not stare at her big, closed eyes for that long without wondering: who was she? He was momentarily sure he didn't know. "[y/n]?" he called her, daring, in a whisper, to utter her first name.

[y/n] opened her eyes, surprised that Benedict had used her first name. She had always thought of him as Mr. Bridgerton, the handsome and charming gentleman whom society's most eligible ladies always surrounded. But now, she was asking him for help and needed to trust him with her secret.

"Yes, it's true," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm W. Jabber, the author of several books. I published under a male pseudonym."

Benedict was stunned. He had heard of W. Jabber's work and greatly admired "his" writing. He had no idea that the author was Miss [y/l/n], the girl he had known since childhood. He looked at her, seeing her in a new light. She was not just the girl who played in the mud; she was a talented writer who broke society's rules to pursue her passion.

"I had no idea," he said, his voice full of awe.

"I know," she said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's not something I can share with many people."

"And you want me to illustrate your next book?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that his childhood friend was a published author.

"Yes," she said, her eyes shining with excitement. "I've been working on a new book, and I think your illustrations would be perfect for it."

Benedict smiled, feeling honoured that she had asked him. "I'd love to help you," he said. "But how will we do it in secret? We can't let anyone know."

"I have a plan," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Meet me tomorrow at the park, and I'll tell you all about it."

Benedict nodded, feeling a sense of excitement at the thought of working with [y/n] on a secret project. He had always admired her intelligence and wit, but now he saw a new side that intrigued him even more.

As they returned to the salon, Benedict couldn't help but wonder what other secrets Miss [y/n] [y/l/n] was hiding. But for now, he was content to focus on their new project, a collaboration that would push the boundaries of society and showcase their talents in a way that no one else could.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Should you write it? Uh, please do!😭🥴😩 as a corporate girlie I would love me some Office!Ghost tbh, maybe you’re from another agency working intel on a joint operation w 141 and he gets a kick our of teasing you bc you’re such a stark contrast with your cute lil briefcase and the business casual dresses, totally not used to working literally on site surrounded by all these military/law enforcement men you usually do work for behind the scenes in the safety of your office

PAIRING: Office! Ghost/Co-Worker! Ghost x F! Reader 

WARNINGS: that particular kind of tacit sexual tension you find in corporate Britain || sexy eye contact from across the bullpen || filthy language || 18+ only

A/N:  corporate girlies unite! || anon is referring to this post || i tried to do the prompt as it was but realised that I know nothing about how the military works :) but this is fiction, so we ball, I hope you like it anon! I have no idea where this fic going, please help :)))

Part 1 of 4 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

***

It starts simple before it gets complicated, as these things tend to do.

There are exactly two things that keep you motivated in this job—the smoke breaks you take 5 times a day, and the off-chance of seeing Ghost around the base.  That’s it.  Two things.

And one of those was being ruined by your newest friend’s lack of enthusiasm for the other thing.

“I bet he's blond.”

Simon just takes a deep drag of his cigarette, looking at you with the distinctively irritated side eye that he gives you about 12 times a day.

“Ask me why I think he's blond.”

“No.”

But you’re undeterred.  “He just has that energy, you know.  I’ve only ever seen him with MacTavish, and he stands there like a tall, sexy, dumb…tree.  Like, I bet he’s fucking gorgeous, but he’s also giving blond himbo.”

Simon’s eyes roll up to the sky in irritation.  “I dunno what himbo means.”

“Yeah you do.  You said you’ve worked with Ghost before.”

You almost want to perform a pirouette in joy at getting Simon to finally look at you.  “N’ what of it?”

“Then you know what a himbo is.  It’s Ghost.”

You don’t even try to contain your manic laughter when Simon just about turns and leaves.         

***

What Simon doesn’t understand (the cantankerous bastard) is that you’ve made eye contact with Ghost a few times around the base.  The man is more elusive than average, even in this line of work.  His presence around the base is...well.  Entirely consistent with his moniker.  The man is a ghost.  

Sometimes you wonder if it’s all really performative, but something about the way he moves in the spaces around him leads you to conclude that maybe he’s omnipresent after all.  He'll catch your attention from the periphery of your vision, only to disappear when you try to actively seek him out.  He melts into the background of wherever he looms, like a shadow. (Or a Ghost).  There and not there, all at once.

And on the rare occasions you’ve seen him around, he keeps to himself.  Not surprising, given everything you know about him (which isn't a lot), but what is interesting to you is the way he looks at you.  And when he’s around, he does look at you.

You can't say you mind, considering you look at him too.  Even after all these years working with big, handsome, massive men and women, day in and day out, you still can't say you've gotten used to it.  And you could never be used to someone like Ghost.  

But then there’s Simon.  The other man you’re finding yourself increasingly attracted to.  

They tell you he’s only there temporarily and as punishment.  You can't even begin to imagine who could (and would even dare to) punish the big grump.  You don’t actually know why he’s being punished with desk duty, and even if you wanted to, you have no way of finding out.  He won’t tell you, and neither will your supervisor. 

More importantly, you decide, you couldn’t care less. 

Simon’s punishment means that your week has suddenly become very, very interesting.  The mood around the office is different while Simon sits at your absentee colleague’s desk.  People are quieter around him—uneasy and the slightest bit put off by his brutish nature. But you can’t deny that there is something about Simon, something you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.  The man is just...effortlessly sexy.  

You sit across the room from him, but facing him, and so every time you look up, he’s there.  The height of the desks combined with the height of this mammoth man mean that you can’t see his entire face, but his eyes stick out from the top of the desk partition, and it’s enough to create…issues for you. 

Five days ago, when you'd walked into the office, and noticed a stranger on Davis’ seat, you hadn't actually known it was him.  He was just...some guy.  A nose that looked like it had spent more time being broken than not, wicked scars running down his face and into his lips, mean-looking but with the most expressive brown eyes.  And then your supervisor introduced him to your team as Simon.  And that was it.  Thus had begun your love affair with permanent arousal. 

You must be one of Pavlov’s dogs with how you’ve been conditioned to associate the feeling of his eyes on your face with wetness between your legs.  It’s mercilessly constant and you’re left feeling achy and unsatisfied every day, having to content yourself with rubbing your thighs together for some much needed relief.  And through it all, Simon just watches you.

You know he’s interested.  And he must know of your reciprocity, because your traitor face gives it away, and because his interest is quickly replaced by smugness.  

During a brief stint of temporary insanity, you consider confronting him about it.  But what would you even say?   So sorry, Simon, you big, scary, grouch, but would you just please hit this and we can both call it a day and I can move on to making heart eyes at Ghost again? Hehe, no.

But you’re stubborn to a fault, so you befriend him (albeit with you doing most of the hard work in your “friendship”) and downplay your attraction, while he pretends he doesn’t spend most of the day making bedroom eyes at you.  Win-win.

And if you end up carrying an extra pair of panties in your purse, then it’s not like he needs to know about it.

****

Taglist: @devcica || @kneelingshadowsalome || @tiredmetalenthusiast || @xintothewoodswegox || @miyabilicious ||

[lesbianoms]

Consider this:

A seemingly classic office rom-com but in a world with vore dynamics. One coworker that a bunch of others are fighting over, except they’re not necessarily interested in dating her so much as they are eating her.

The new girl who gets the job is straight out of a heteronormative dreamland. She’s naive and shy, but a hard worker who’s ultimately looking for love. She’s lasted this long in her career and she feels like it might finally be time to find a partner, and what better place to look than a heavily populated office building? She’s finally ready for romance!

Oh, and she also happens to be prey.

She shows up the first day and the office is ripe with hungry tension. All the other people there– the secretaries and receptionists, the men by the water cooler, and the women dressed in business suits or long skirts– they’re all staring at her, licking their lips idly. It’s like she’s a fresh piece of meat to them.

And then her heart just begins beating furiously as she realizes that the office is completely made up of predators.

But the new girl quickly puts up a front and smiles, eager to make a good first impression on her first day at work. Besides… she’s worried that they can smell her fear.

I like to imagine that the office is mostly female driven, so throughout the day the new girl is surrounded by hungry women who eye her up and down, wanting nothing more than to fill their bellies with her. Some of them might try to lull her into a false sense of security… maybe they compliment her on her fashion sense, or tell her how nice her perfume smells, or maybe a few of them invite her over into another room for some “girl talk.”

And maybe, just maybe, the new girl reluctantly accepts. After all, she does miss the downtime she had during her old job, the casual chats with her coworkers about life and men and the intricacies of doing your makeup right and all that other boring filler stuff. She convinces herself that she wouldn’t be that appetizing to them anyways.

And as she falls prey to her naïveté once more, she also falls prey to the women. They all jump on her and attack like the hungry preds they are, biting and licking her, tasting her, until one gets a steady hold of her, drags her possessively away from the group, and greedily swallows her down.

The new girl kicks and struggles in the pred’s gut, begging her to be let out and feeling her preyish fear kick into overdrive. The other women stare at their coworker in annoyance and jealousy, and she just grins, flashing her teeth and rubbing her swollen gut victoriously. Everybody else rolls their eyes and leaves. Oh well, maybe they’ll get lucky when the next meal comes along…

After work, the pred goes home, cradling her gut and cooing to the girl in her belly, telling her what a filling meal she made and how she actually lasted longer than most of the prey that worked in the office before her. She belches loudly, yawns, and makes her way upstairs, eager to sleep off her sweet little treat.

As the pred falls asleep the prey feels herself getting sluggish, losing the battle to the stomach acids. Her entire career, her search for love, her lifespan– all cut short by the churning walls of some hungry lady’s gut. Everything goes numb and dark…

And then, the new girl discovers something incredible about herself, something she’d never had any way of knowing before.

She can reform.

She wakes up in her own bed, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. Everything feels too bright. It wasn’t possible, it just wasn’t; she’d just been digested, she should have been dead. And yet somehow, somehow she was still laying there, breathing and thinking and feeling like she’d always done every morning of her life. She was still living. She’d survived.

A confident, wide grin spreads across her face.

She shows up at work the next day, shocking everyone, especially the girls who’d fought over her the day prior. The pred that ate her actually becomes a bit pale and flustered. None of them have ever experienced a meal coming back to haunt them.

Throughout the rest of the series, the new girl flaunts herself to her coworkers, teasing them and offering herself up on a silver platter, only to slip away in the morning and leave their bellies emptier than she’d entered them. She builds up a reputation for being a fulfilling catch, too, squirming and writhing and stirring up a myriad of wonderful feelings in the pred’s body. Some of them are even encapsulated by her as a person, rather than a meal. There are office bets started up, debating who’s stomach she enjoys being in the most. The female pred from before finds herself fantasizing about being asked on a dinner date by the prey.

She actually grows to become a somewhat respected member of the company, spending her days heading boardroom meetings and her nights gurgling away in the depths of some lucky colleague’s belly.

Ultimately, she ends up leaving the office a better place than she found it. Her preyish nature makes a lot of the preds more opened-minded, and maybe they start hiring other prey around the office without any ulterior motives. Maybe some of them start holding memorial services for the prey coworkers that they’d eaten in the past. Collaboration reaches an all time high as preds realize they don’t need to be competitive anymore.

Sure, the work environment can be a little tense at times. The “new girl” is still prey, after all, surrounded by an office of hungry preds. That will never change. But this time around, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[itshermocrates]

POISON- Ep. 4 Analysis

I have no idea if someone has already done something like this but these two unfortunate souls have been in my mind since I watched the show TWO WEEKS AGO. So I'm gonna share with you this personal analysis of what we saw during the Poison scene in Ep. 4 of Hazbin Hotel.

Again, I don’t know if anyone has already talked about this (I’m not very active on tumblr), but I think that what we see as Angel sings Poison is made not only to tell us how the relationship Angel has with Valentino is but ALSO how it came to be thanks to everything that's happening on screen while he's singing.

Of course the lyrics are also important so I’ll make some reference to those as well, but I’ll focus mainly on what we see. Since I can only add 30 pics in this post this will be a bit difficult but I will try my best.

SOME CONTENT WARNINGS! I'm not sure if this is even necessary but anyways,,, Pychological abuse, abuse, violence, domestic violence, drugs, addiction, sex work, dubius consent, sexual violence, abusive relationship, unhealthy power dynamics, angst, suicidal ideas (hinted), etc.

Now, without further ado, let's begin!

Before the song, Valentino and Angel have a fight in his dressing room. I want to start here because during that fight Angel gets a black eye and we get to see how the walls of his room are filled, not only by security cameras, but also by a lot of eyes that follow Angel wherever he goes inside the room. We will see more of these eyes soon enough.

After that fight Angel sends Charlie back home and we see a bit more of what we could expect from Valentino with his manipulation tactics. The sweet tone and the praise as he embraces Angel from behind, too close and too intimate considering he will be soon forcing him to go back to work.

These are the tricks every abuser uses to manipulate and control the people around them, and it’s what Valentino uses all the time with Angel.

This is the behavior of an abusive boyfriend, a dynamic they have in the present, but once Poison starts, we are presented with their backstory. Now we will get to see how that dynamic is even possible, how these two ended up together and how their relationship started and evolved.

Valentino sits next to the movie director and everyone starts moving to prepare the scene they are about to film. He is the one in control here, the one calling for action again and deciding who does what and when. And just like that we see how Angel's black eye is concealed by makeup, erasing the marks of what had just happened and metaphorically erasing the violence of the relationship he is in now.

Angel closes his eyes in displeasure, focusing on what Valentino wants from him. When he opens his eyes again, his expression is completely different, this Angel without bruises, is not only a version of him from minutes ago, before the fight with Val, or even prior to the abuse… This is the Angel before Valentino.

He walks backwards, as if he was going back in time, moving easily with the playful shamelessness that characterized him back then. When he sings “I’m not above a love to cash in” he was most likely referring to his past as a sex worker or at least, as someone who didn’t mind to sell his affections to get what he needed/wanted. During this time, he would most likely go clubbing every night, since it offered a good way to earn easy money while he had a great time, partying, drinking, consuming…

Angel probably was the type of person who used those who desired him to get whatever he wanted, a game he knew how to play. Even if it could get risky or inconvenient, he was a free soul, he was still in control of what he did or didn't do with all those people, so at the end of the day, he always won. That’s what he believes as he playfully lays back on the setting’s bed again.

That had always been true after all, or at least it was until he came across someone that beated him at his own game. Someone who would take that freedom and control over his own body away from him.

His expression changes again to one of terror when a shadow looms over his body from outside the frame. That’s the silhouette of the men he was previously filming with, but we can also imagine that this figure suddenly changing the way he moves, reacts and feels, was meant to represent Valentino.

After the other actors surround him, and the scene fades to black, we are shown what could have been Angel's previous workplace. A stripclub where he danced for money and probably engaged in sex work in a somewhat safe and controlled environment. Back then he had become popular enough to be "the star" of his own show, and a performer good enough to get a reputation that would eventually reach the ears of one of the most powerful overlords in that district.

Valentino discovered him maybe by chance, or maybe not. Maybe he had heard of Angel Dust and wanted to see for himself if this dancer was as good and pretty as all those people said. And after watching him perform Valentino was the furthest from disappointed, he had enjoyed the show so much that he decided to take a closer look at this Angel Dust’s skills.

He approaches him, maybe as a client, or maybe just as a guy interested in what he had to offer, and although Angel doesn't trust him at first, he ends up entering his game.

He was just another man who wanted to fuck him, one that had enough money to spoil him all he had ever wanted and more. It was quite the opportunity for someone as low in the food chain as him, and Angel had already played with rich men like Valentino before, he knew what he was doing.

So Angel took the bait, and had sex with Valentino. Probably a blowjob in that same club he danced at that served as a test for Valentino.

Now we have a scene with two Valentinos, one that is about to get head from Angel with a video camera on his hand, and another Val standing behind the cameras and lights of what we now know to be another movie set. The first Val we saw, extending his hand before Angel when he finished his performance, was the Val of his past, the one he sucked off the night they met. That was someone Angel thought to be somewhat honest, or, at the very least a man he heavily underestimated.

It's the playful man that winks seductively at him in the set from afar with those red hot eyes he fell for, the same that quickly turns into a different guy with similar clothes (red jacket and white fur) now recording him on set. Someone who quickly became a stranger to Angel, just as he is for us, since we can’t even see his face.

The second Val it's the real one, the one standing next to the movie director watching everything with calculating eyes and a dangerous smile. That's the man who told Angel all those red hot lies he believed to be true, and the one judging with this first meeting if the spider was a worthy investment or not.

Angel proves to be good enough. Valentino likes him, and after that night he starts to actively pursue Angel but he didn’t do that as a simple client. He can tell Angel isn't a common whore, he has talent, charisma and he's been playing this game for long enough to know all the tricks. One can only become so successful in this world knowing how to play their cards well.

It’s obvious then what he has to do to turn Angel into his next movie star. Valentino needs to make him fall in love with him and make him believe that Valentino can love him just as much. This is exactly what he is going to do.

On screen we see how Valentino's sex pollen (he's a moth guys, it has to be sex pollen) starts to fill the scene, and as it expands it engulfs Angel, making us know just how captivated, how absorbed he will end up being.

Note: I know there’s a theory that says that Valentino’s power comes from his saliva or something like that and I haven’t read it or anything, but I do believe the smoke/fog that surrounds him has the same effect as the “sex pollen” trope. Or at least it’s similar.

The red fog expands all over the frame, emphasizing Valentino’s overpowering skills and charisma. When it clears, we see Angel in a different place while he sings the second line of the lyrics “What’s the worst part of this hell, I can only blame myself”.

His expression is one of pure anguish and regret, and he’s saying this while standing in front of Valentino in his apartment. He's talking about how naive he was for believing all of Valentino's lies, to truly believe that what he felt for Angel was love. He blames himself for buying this love story and falling for him so hard it made him very easy to manipulate. He regrets not having seen it before it was too late.

Because when Valentino’s back appears at the left corner of the frame, with an extended hand and smoke-made chains, it’s Angel the one who finally cuts the distance and accepts the chains Val is offering him.

Angel was too blinded by Valentino’s courting, by his sweet words and lovely gestures, but also by the constant push and pull of their dynamic, the flirting, the teases, the seduction. He loved the attention and he loved the sense of control, of power, he could feel when he was with Valentino, an overlord no less, a demon so rich and powerful he could have anyone he could have ever wanted. But Val had chosen him, him of all people.

This brief initial moment represents the regret he feels when he remembers how it all started, when Angel thinks about the beginning of their relationship, a time when everything seemed fine and their sexual chemistry made him lose all sense of reason. Because with Val everything ended up leading him to his bed.

After this short display of regret, we are presented a sequence made to represent the fantasy Angel indulged himself in, an illusion tinted in pink colors and fun costumes. This is the story Valentino had carefully created for him to make him fall in love with him, a story that made the spider feel so good when he was by his side, he could easily excuse any warning sign in his sight.

Because Angel would obviously want to be with Valentino when all he knew about him was his lover persona, a facade that portrayed him as a passionate lover and playful partner, his (soon to be) poison.

They had fun and even when Valentino showed little fragments of his true intentions and personality, Angel was too blinded to notice that he was starting to lose the very game he had considered himself a master of. Valentino and the relationship Angel had with him was addictive, so it didn't matter what happened, Angel always came back. You can think of this as the result of Valentino’s sex pollen, his charisma or a combination of both, depending on what flavor of angst is your favorite.

What we can know for sure, is that they were both performers in their own ways, both players in the game of love, so Angel could have excused and normalized a lot of things he shouldn't have. Knowing their line of work, of course that they could get a bit too intense every now and then, of course things could get a bit out of hand between them, they were just sooo dramatic.

It was that rollercoaster of emotions, the raw intensity of it all what ended up hooking Angel so much. The playfulness that could get a bit dangerous really fast, even if the Valentino he thought he knew would never really hurt him. Right?

A few little details I like about this sequence are the way we get to see Valentino’s home in the background and how the colors of his clothes and body are darker than usual but still lighter in comparison to what we will see in the following scenes, indicating how this was still the “nice” version of Valentino.

In the same way, Angel is playing with the chains bounding his wrists together, not his neck (yet), telling us that he’s playing with fire, quite literally dancing with the idea of being owned by Val, but he is still a free soul. In this moment he was falling hard and quick for Valentino’s lies, but he wasn’t his captive yet.

He’s having fun while being manhandled by Valentino, both physically and emotionally, but he still thinks of it as a game, another part of their sex life and how they naturally work as a couple. It’s exciting, it’s new and Angel loves it.

Not knowing that the longer he stays the more power is giving Val over him. Valentino is starting to show his true colors, in these last frames we can see that his figure is getting darker as Angel is slowly discovering the manipulative side of Val, the controlling and abusive nature he had been hiding from the spider since the beginning.

The push and pull continues as we see their silhouettes dancing, even if in reality this is Valentino pulling from his side of the chain to keep Angel close, to keep him with him.

After the shadows sequence, we get back to the playfulness Angel had shown when he took the chains for himself and started to tease Valentino. Only that this time, Val’s colors are darker and his touch more possessive, more aggressive. He’s groping him and even choking him while Angel sings “I made my choice and every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow” with a grin, showing us how this was still a game for him.

He made his choice staying with Val because he loved him and he thought he was loved in return, when the moth had been only toying with him from the moment they first saw each other. This is Angel’s greatest regret, the fact that he truly believed Val’s lies, that despite all the warning signs he kept choosing him over and over again.

Choosing to stay, to kneel before Val, to obey him with the promise of a new wave of pleasure, a new high. Just as Valentino wanted him to do as we can see the vicious smile he wears during this entire sequence.

I think the next couple of seconds tells us how, for a while, they were together and Angel was still able to keep his job at the club. He was still allowed to see his friends (his coworkers most likely) and spend time with them, while Valentino made sure to feed all his previous bad habits and addictions, giving him gifts (we know Fat Nuggets was a gift from Val), a lot of money he could spend on a whim and eventually, probably the substances to use as well.

The smile on his face, the smugness of it, makes me think he’s telling his friends about this rich guy that pampers him in every way and treats him like a prince. He has found the ultimate Sugar Daddy, a man that has changed his life forever in the best way possible. Now he can have whatever he wants, party for days without having to worry about not having enough money to eat at the end of the month or a place to stay.

Angel would have used drugs before, maybe occasionally, maybe only at parties, maybe to get the worst bits of his job done, maybe he was already a bit of an addict, but it’s now, when he has the means to consume every night that he definitely becomes one.

Valentino made sure of it.

During this time, Valentino would secure the control he had over Angel, weakening his mind and will by worsening his addiction problem while continuing convincing him of how much he loved him. The parties were incredible, the sex was amazing, and Angel felt on top of the world at every moment. He was “living like there’s no tomorrow” without realizing the higher he raised above the ground, the hardest would be his fall.

And maybe this is just me over analyzing a kinky moment, but after this, after Valentino bites Angel causing him a wince of pain and maybe even making him bleed, everything changes.

They are having sex, far from the flashing lights, they are together as Anthony and Val, as the real person who oftenly hides behind his stage persona. The person who is deeply in love with Valentino, who is vulnerable and allows his lover to hurt him however he wants because he trusts that the pleasure that follows will be worth it.

But after that bite, he’s no longer in bed with Val, he's in the same bed from the very beginning of this music video, surrounded by lights, disoriented and confused… As if he was expecting Valentino to be between his legs and not this stranger.

When he finally comes to his senses and sits, we hear for the first time the line “My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison”. This was the beginning of the end of their honeymoon phase and the point of no return. Valentino had considered Angel weakened enough to take a step further, and a new part of him is finally uncovered when he carefully introduces Angel to the porn industry. He would do so (probably) while Angel was too intoxicated and definitely too blindly in love to know what he was doing.

Valentino becomes this overwhelming shadow that covers Angel’s body, a silhouette he can’t escape from, and when we are shown what Angel sees, we can no longer see the color of Valentino’s clothes. His colorful persona, his facade of playful lover it’s no longer in place, he has stopped pretending and acting as the good boyfriend the spider had always wanted. Now before Angel there’s only the demon that owns thousands of souls, a vicious drooling smile and sharp red eyes. An overlord to fear and be intimidated by.

The background is filled with filming equipment, and even if Valentino’s body language is meant to appear welcoming, Angel feels terrified. This is not the Valentino he knew, and now he is completely trapped. He can’t refuse now, this is a choice he is being forced to make even if his soul still technically belongs to him.

After being pressured, Angel becomes part of this industry, and although he doesn’t really like it, he still trusts Valentino enough to not run away. The overlord can be scary, but he still believes that he’s safe with him, that if Val is by his side nothing wrong could ever happen to him. And after all, he had done sex work before, right? What difference did it make to fuck strangers for money in front of a camera now?

He’s not comfortable, and every day that intimidating side of Valentino that wasn’t really there before grows darker, fiercer and scarier. Angel had seen the ugliness of Valentino before, as a man, as a possessive boyfriend, as a controlling partner, but never as the powerful demon he truly was. So he still obeys Val and features in a few movies of his choice.

We can see these doubts, Angel’s discomfort and even a bit of his trust in Valentino at the beginning of the next sequence, when they appear on the set of a different movie.

Angel was a performer, he had faked his own pleasure before, he could do it again now, and he could do it while earning way more money. He could do so, because he knew Valentino was there, guiding him, helping him, making sure his lover was safe. He always thought that Val was looking out for him, making sure he was getting the right roles in the right movies, the right contracts, and when he was nervous, Valentino was right by his side to comfort him.

But Valentino had never cared about Angel’s safety. And once Angel started to voice his doubts or show his discomfort, he made sure he couldn’t do it for much longer. The comfort Angel sought for was quickly replaced by something chemical, something that eased his nerves but also left him dazed and disoriented.

It was then that Valentino drugged him, tricked him and made him sign the contract that would leave him with only half a soul inside his chest.

Valentino had fed Angel’s addiction for a long time, adding to the mix not only the illusion of a love story, but also his own drug, his sex pollen, something that numbed the spider’s mind enough to go through all the things Valentino wanted him to do in front of the camera. Oftenly Angel was left too intoxicated to respond, too vulnerable and weak. In his last moments of lucidity he always could see Valentino, his lover, the man he thought would always take care of him, turning his back to him and leave him.

Valentino is the last thing he sees before everything fades to black around him, before he disappears. He’s no longer Anthony or Angel Dust, the stage persona, now the lines between those two different identities blurry beyond repair, and the person he becomes is a little more Angel Dust and a lot less Anthony.

I don’t think that it was just a coincidence that they used a BDSM scene to represent the moment Angel definitely lost control of his actions, his body and most likely also his soul. BDSM is all about power dynamics and the control that’s exchanged between consenting partners, only that, in this case, Angel didn’t really have a choice and there was no consent. This lack of control and safety is emphasized precisely by the type of session Angel is forced into.

He’s restrained in every way possible, he’s tied up, a blindfold covers his eyes and a gag is forced onto his mouth, one that would prevent him from closing it no matter how much he tried. He has no way to end the scene, no way to say a safeword, to complain or to stop what other people do with him or to him.

This is meant to represent the moment he signed the contract, and how he felt every time he entered the set of a new movie after he signed it. He stopped being his own person, he had disappeared, and what had been left of him was nothing but a sex toy for Valentino to control in each of his productions.

Now we see the Angel Dust that survived this state of numbness and dissociation, the one that has consumed Anthony just so he could keep himself alive.

While Angel Dust dances, seemingly enjoying the show, performing as he has always done, in the background screens we see what’s left of Anthony, of the boy feeling trapped and used with no single way out of it. This is accompanied by more fragments of that BDSM scene that changed it all, since that was a traumatic event that repeats itself in Angel’s mind every time Valentino forces him into a new role, a new movie, a new lie.

These frames show us not only the stress Angel is feeling, but also how Valentino is always there to exploit his body in the way he deems more profitable. We know this because he appears in between Angel’s anguish, but also because the same eyes that covered his dressing room walls are in the background while someone fucks Angel from behind.

While this happens we hear again “I made my choice”, a reminder of Angel’s regrets, shame and guilt. In addition the line “Every night I’m living like there’s no tomorrow” now has slightly changed, indicating the shift in Angel’s life and condition as no longer a free soul. What we hear now is  “Every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow”.

Where once he was happy, he’s now desperate, begging to get a way out.

We see a bit more of the playful performer, Angel Dust, and the pain of Anthony in the background before Valentino approaches him again like a great imposing figure, putting an end to his show.

The second Angel notices Valentino, distress becomes clear all over his face. He points to the left, outside of what we can see, and when he tries to escape, Valentino grabs him and pulls him closer.

He has finally come face to face with the real Valentino in all his twisted glory and he wants to run away. He knows now that what they had wasn’t love, it had never been, and it’s painful. But he’s afraid of Valentino, he can’t do anything to escape his contract and he now belongs to him (at least while they’re on set).

That last frame with Valentino embracing him, a vicious smile on his face in contrast with Angel’s terrified expression puts an end to their story, to the narration of how they came to be what they are now. After that, we are presented to the aftermath, the Angel that’s no longer intoxicated by his poison and can only dread the many past choices he would like to change.

He is now fully aware that there’s no way out of his hell, that for as long as he is alive he will be Valentino’s toy. He’s destroyed in every way, his mind is a mess too dependent on the drugs Valentino has been feeding him to properly think, and his body has stopped to feel as his own a long time ago.

How could he consider that pile of bones, fur and chemically loosen up muscles as his own? He’s disgusted, drowning in this feeling of helplessness.

And he’s even more grossed out when he notices the remains of Valentino’s poison, his drug, still lingering on his tongue. He’s so lost, he doesn’t even recognize himself. This is not where he was supposed to be, he shouldn’t be in Valentino’s apartment, he doesn’t want to be there anymore.

The substance that once had brought him so much joy, such a delicious bliss, now slips past his lips burning his skin like acid. The itch reminds him of the reason why he’s there, and he can only feel pain. The only cause for most of his problems had always been his addiction. To Val, the sex they had, his poison, the drugs he bought for him…

No matter how hard he tries to get used to this life he has with Val now, he simply can’t do it. It doesn’t matter how many movies he appears in, they are never enough, they will never be enough for the overlord. Because he’s nothing but a tool to make Valentino and the other Vs even richer and more powerful.

That’s Valentino’s business and what initially made him get close to Vox. They complimented each other and together they felt capable of ruling Hell like that was their birthright. A power Angel would never get to know firsthand, because for Valentino he was nothing but another whore to use, exploit and eventually discard.

Angel is sick of it, is tired of living a life he hates, a lonely life full of pain and abuse, all caused by the person he loved the most.

He has spent years trapped in the V Tower, watched by the countless cameras placed in every wall and every corner of his prison. Even when he’s not on set, controlled by Valentino and his team, he feels Vox lenses following all of his movements, and despite the luxury he lives in, every day he goes to sleep wishing to never wake up.

That's all, folks. I hope you liked it, or at least got as sad as I felt while analyzing this. Again this is all what I could understand from that segment of the episode I don't know if y'all already knew this but I did wanted to share it. If you liked this check my bird app account bc there is where I spend most of my online time or my Ao3 profile, although I post mostly Skfs content now <3

[igotanidea]

Be careful who you bring home : Morpheus x reader

part 2 is up

request/summary by anon: you know how people get pets for emotional support? reader with anxiety or fear of loneliness finds a big black cat in a park and she is just: yeah, you are coming home with me. cat happens to be post imprisonement!morpheus. he wants to argue, but she quickly takes him to her apartment which is conveniently close to the park. reader cooing to cat: who is my little baby and Matthew seeing it from the street and laughing at his boss. with 142 for reader (maybe he said something while being a cat) and 153 for morpheus.

142 was "it's just your imagination", 153 was "put me down" I might have changed the request a little bit but I hope you'll like it. Also thete is a bit of a twist/ crossover in the story. Wonder if you'll get it :D

***

„Have you ever considered getting a pet?”

The girl in her mid-twenties, dressed in comfy, black clothes sitting in front of the therapist frowned in confusion.

“A pet” she repeated “and why would I need that?”

“You know, it is proven that they have positive effect on people who suffer from depression and anxiety, so maybe this would be a good idea for healing process”

“Do you give such advice to all of your patients, doctor Raynor? Did you give such advice to Bucky, as well?”

“We both know he is not that kind of guy.”

“Really, why not?” the girl shrugged “he had some goats in Wakanda after all.”

“Stop joking around.”

“Jeez, fine. I won’t get a pet. In my current mental state I can barely take care of myself, let alone any other living being. Any other words of wisdom coming from you?”

“Not with this attitude. You may leave for now.”

“You know if I was paying you that would be the shittiest session not worth a dime.” She grabbed her coat and without a word, hands in the pocket left the room and not-so-pleased therapist.

A pet. Good joke. A four legged animal who would wake her up in the morning and at night asking for food or caress. A being that would turn her life upside down since it would require constant care and supervision to avoid destroying her apartment. Nope. Thank you very much. She was good enough by herself. Determined to get her head and broken soul back together and get clearance to get back to SHIELD and field operations. She missed that, but apparently beating up a bunch of bad guys leaves you in emotional trauma and in need of recover. Bullshit! She was an agent, for god’s sake, not a crying mess. Her attitude was far from cheerful and optimistic but just today she had to curb her murderous thoughts since one of her nieces were supposed to visit. Jemma was five years old and was still going through her princesses, pink glitter and unicorns faze. She was a challenge to be around, but definitely worth it. Her father, agent’s sister were supposed to drop her in straight to the house, but just a minute ago she got the message about the change in plans. Since the weather was beautiful and it was not often this time of the year, he took the chance for a little walk in the park and decided to meet his sister there instead of in the four walls. As she approached the park, she noticed her family amongst other walking people. Jemma was running around, picking leaved and jumping into the pools with loud, happy squeals. She could not hold back the tiniest smile on her face.

“She’s gonna get all wet and dirty and then who will tend to that?” the girl mocked while coming closer

“Hm, don’t know. I think at this point she would be someone else’s responsibility.”

“Hello, brother.”

“Hello sister” he hugged her tightly “how you’ve been? Life still kicking you in the guts?”

“I mean, when it doesn’t? You know my line of work….” Her brother was convinces she was just some regular office worker dealing with boring documents, since that was simply safer for everyone.

“Right, so mundane and ordinary…..” he rolled his eyes

“Auntie!” Jemma turned around and run straight to her favorite relatives not caring about the mud she left on her trousers while clutching to her legs.

“Hi, cupcake. Don’t you have to much energy?”

“I have so much to tell you! About the rhyme I’ve learned and some new letters I came across and my friends and everything” little girl jumped around in excitement “And I know a new magic trick dad showed me. But I still don’t quite understand it….” she frowned

“It;s ok, cupcake, we can work on that.”

“Oh, thank god. Like I said, your responsibility now. Good luck.” Girl’s brother was quick to get himself some freedom “just don’t give her too much sweets, you know how she gets after that”

“Yeah, too well. See you in a couple of hours then. Come on, Jemma” she took her niece’s little hand sticky with some mysterious substance “ let’s go home.”

If only it was that easy. They only took a couple steps when the little one broke out from aunt’s grip.

“Look, auntie, a cat!” she run over to the bench where unusually big and beautiful animal was soaking up the sun.  Before he realized what hit him, he was squeezed and carried by a little pair of still sticky hands and it was visible he did not like it.

“Jemma! Leave that animal alone. It may hurt you.”

Do not refer to me as “it”. I am a male personification. And put me down! Immediately!

She could swear she heard something in the back of her mind, but let it go. After all, cats do not talk and she was in therapy for mental trouble so it was probably just her mind playing tricks on her.

“Can we take him home, auntie, he’s so sweet, please” little girl pouted

“No. Of course not, look at… him. He is very good looking, so most probably belongs to someone. Not a chance he’s a stray cat. “

“I can’t see anyone looking for him” a couple tears showed up in Jemma;s eyes. “Please, auntie, please….” Great, now she was crying out loud getting the attention of few pedestrians.

“Ok, fine, fine, just please stop crying.”

“Thank you” Jemma stopped her actions in a second and smiled widely showing the jags in her mouth. “I will carry him so don’t worry about it, auntie” she held the cat even closer not caring about him writing in her embrace.

“Just be careful so he won’t hurt you” she warned following her niece, wondering what the hell she got herself into.

I will not hurt this little mortal.

At this point, the older girl was pretty sure she was going crazy. And to think that Raynor wanted her to have a pet to help her mental health, not deteriorate it.

***

“Auntie, look, I made him pretty”

“Mhm, great” she did not even bother to look up from some records she was currently reading “wait, you did what, Jemma?” a second later she came to realization what a five-year-old girl can mean by saying “made pretty”.

“Look, auntie” said five year old was quick to get the cat out from behind and proudly present it. Despite her rather gloomy attitude the older one could not hold back a laugh. Black fur was now embellished  with colorful glitter and was wearing a crown. If it wasn’t for the lack of resources at home Jemma would probably extend her imagination even more.

“Oh” she cooed “look who’s pretty boy” her grin was now getting wider and wider. She was no expert on animal behavior but the look on its face clearly indicated it was not happy with the situation.

“I wanted to give him a braid, but the fur was too short” Jemma saddened

“Don’t worry sweetie, it looks just perfect. Like a ….”

“Princess!” Jemma squealed and turned around with the cat still in her embrace.

“Don’t you both dare. This is humiliating”. Once again there was this little voice inside girl’s head.

“Ok, honey, why don’t you let go of the cat now. I got a snack for you.”

“Chocolate cake?” Jemma asked innocently while playing with her fingers and shyly looking at the floor

“Apple and carrots”

“That is boooooring. And I don’t like carrots” Jemma whined

“Well, too bad for you. I heard veggies give you strength. And then your skin looks healthy and shines almost like the cat’s fur. Wouldn’t you like to look beautiful?”

“I’d rather be smart” Jemma retorted taking her aunt aback with maturity of this sentence “but I guess beauty can help in future. I saw on TV that pretty girls always have what they want so whatever” she shrugged and rushed towards the kitchen where the snack was already waiting for her.

“Unbelievable” her aunt shook her head “but she’ll be busy for a while, so how about we get you all cleaned up, huh?” she picked the cat from the floor and walked towards the bathroom ignoring the writhing animal, who was not happy about forced wash.

Put me down! It demanded again and the girl stopped looking him straight in the eyes trying to check out if she was really going nuts.

“Oh come on, girl, get yourself together. It’s just your imagination.”

She walked straight into the bathroom and started gently combing out the fur. Surprisingly, her action bring the animal comfort because surprisingly to both of them he started purring.

***

Two hours later, tired and sleepy Jemma was picked up by her father and her aunt could finally let the cat out into the wild. It was impossible earlier since the little girl was checking on him every five minutes, refusing to drop this action.

“Sorry about today. “ she muttered opening the door “but hey, on the bring side at least you have a nice story to tell to your fellow cats. Besides, you really are a pretty animal.” maybe it was another impression or the flicker of lights, but it seemed like the cats fur became a bit reddish and he squinted. “go, now, find your owners, get home safe, fella.”

It was just a couple of hours, but the girls was actually starting to think that maybe, hypothetically, Raynor was right about this whole “emotional support pet” stuff.

***

Morpheus bristled and crossed the street. Only on the other side of the road he changed back into the anthropomorphic personification of dreams.

“Um, boss?” his loyal yet rebellious Raven perched on the branch, tilting his head slightly. If he was still human he would probably laugh himself silly.

“Not a word, Matthew. Not a single word about it. To anyone” he reached for his sand and completely ignoring further words of the bird transported them back to the Dreaming “Do I make myself clear” he made sure before entering the palace.

“Sure thing, boss. But it was funny don’t you think?”

“Hold your tongue, Matthew!”

@somest1 @pinksirensong

[wh0re4women]

Spring Break. (Larissa Weems X Reader.) SFW.

Part 2 here.

Summary: Reader stays at Nevermore during Spring Break. Feeling lonely, she decides to have a drink. Little did she know, Larissa would be back at Nevermore in time to catch her in the act.

Warnings: Alcohol, R being drunk & feeling lonely, glass smashing, platonic Larissa X Reader (friends,, with maybe something there ☕️) sad ish comfort fic <3.

Spring break meant that, as a teacher at Nevermore, you would be free of all responsibilities for a week. Or almost a week, give or take a few days which you usually spent planning lessons before the students arrived back in time for classes.

And considering the old building happened to also be your only home, which also happened to be in the middle of nowhere, it was fair to say that you didn't have much to do during your time off. Sure, you did all you could for the first three days: visits to Jericho, checking out the Spring Markets, endless coffee runs to the Weathervane. You met up with a friend on one occasion and attended a few fitness classes on another. Anything to curb the boredom of living in a tiny town where everyone kept to themselves when it came to Outcasts and all those associated with them — that included you.

Mostly, you just missed the students. And of course, you missed your colleagues. Marilyn had gone out of state to visit family. Larissa on the other hand, ever the hard worker, was on yet another 'work related trip', which meant... Well, you didn't exactly know what it meant. You didn't necessarily care to ask. After all, she was still your boss who deserved to have her privacy, even if you deemed her as one of your closest friends.

In conclusion, you were beginning to feel quite lonely. And feeling lonely meant you'd be needing something to numb that feeling down, at least momentarily.

Alcohol was the perfect solution.

You had risen early on a Thursday morning. Basic chores were completed in efficient timing, leaving you with an entire day to spare once again. The drive down to Jericho was brisk and you were strolling through the sunny streets in record-breaking time. There was no such thing as 'brunch' around Nevermore and not for another one hundred miles out, so your best bet was buying a sad bottle of wine for you to drink all by yourself back at home.

Which is what you were currently occupied with as you swayed your hips to a Jazz song, feeling the alcohol rush to your head as the music spun along the record player. Your grip on the bottle of scarlet liquor was tight, your thumb sealing the lid as to not spill a drop whilst you danced the afternoon away.

By the time the sun began to retire, the straps of your floral mini dress were hanging off your shoulders and the days choice of drink was on its last few inches.

One song began morphing into another, until you couldn't hear lyrics and it was only the instrumental that was running through your bones. You took a swift swig from the glass bottle still in your hand, feeling the sweetness linger on your tongue.

Your clarity was evidently gone as you stumbled into your bathroom, hardly knowing how you had gotten there in the first place, or where the wine that had been in your possession all night had disappeared but you weren't going to fuss over it for long. You'd just have to find another bottle elsewhere, which wouldn't be difficult considering most of the teachers at the school had their own stash of prohibited items hidden away in the teachers lounge, or in their rooms. Hell, even Principal Weems owned a generous selection of alcohol which she confidently kept in her office.

You blew out a weak chuckle. Principal Weems most definitely had wine.

Both of your hands locked firmly onto the bathroom sink as you absentmindedly rocked side to side, trying to focus your glossy eyes onto your reflection in the mirror. God, you'd ridden yourself into a mess of a person — there were remnants of mascara under your eyes, your once perfectly-curled hair now hand-brushed back into what resembled a lions mane. You bit your lip to suppress a stupid giggle.

You didn't care to drink often but when you did drink, you didn't shy away from the alcohol. And once you passed the point of tipsy, there was no telling how far you'd take it before someone had to physically stop you.

Thankfully, no one was around.

Time escaped you once again as you suddenly found yourself in the shadows of the empty Nevermore halls, your journey a blur. You tiptoed (or so you thought) barefoot across the smooth, frigid tile, Larissa's office being your one and only destination.

If you weren't so inebriated, you would've noticed the chill that had your teeth clattering together as you snuck into the tall blonde's office. And maybe, just maybe, you would've noticed the fact that Larissa's fireplace, which hadn't been lit in days, was now blazing hot, casting a warm glow upon the room.

You closed Principle Weems' door with a relieved sigh as the heat of the room engulfed you, bringing life back into your cold skin. Focus, focus, focus, you whisper-chanted to yourself, eyes now dragging along the expanse of the neat room. Larissa had invited you over for drinks in her office many times throughout the year, so it wasn't hard for you to find exactly what you were looking for. And once you held one of the older woman's finer wines in between your fingers, you felt accomplished and greatly amused with yourself for pulling off such a stunt.

That was, up until that same bottle of wine slipped through your clumsy fingers, shattering at your feet as a pool of crimson spread across the hardwood floor, glass shards scattering around your vicinity.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," expletives fell from your pink lips as you ran your fingers through your hair in frustration.

"Oh, goodness! Don't move, [y/n]!"

The sound of Larissa's voice startled you enough for a hiccup to escape your mouth as you wobbled in place, "I-I'm soo sorry," you slurred and Larissa was darting out of her sleeping quarters and behind you in a flash.

You heard the crunch of the glass under her heels, the sound echoing in your head as you sobered up slightly in the critical situation. Before you could hurt yourself, Larissa lifted you bridal-style and you clung onto her grey wool jacket in disorientation.

"Where on Earth are your shoes, [y/n]?!" The Principal questioned as she carried you over to her desk, gently setting you down onto her leather office chair.

"I..." you thought for a second, "I don't know."

Larissa's eyebrows furrowed. She pressed her index finger under your chin before adding pressure, lifting your head so she could see into your eyes.

"Are you drunk?"

You couldn't help but giggle. In retrospect, that was a poor time to do so, considering you'd just wreaked havoc in your boss' office. But in your woozy mind, you thought Larissa was being hilarious.

"All right," the Principal took a deep breath. She scanned the room, eyes landing on the disaster in the far end of her office. She looked back at you. "Stay here. I'm going to bring you some water and something to clean you up, darling. Don't move a muscle. Do you understand, [y/n]?"

You blinked a few times, trying your hardest to understand Larissa's words. After a few confused seconds, you nodded.

"Yes? Then what did I just say?" Larissa asked, raising an eyebrow as she tested your ability to communicate.

"Uhhhm," you looked around the room as if the answer to her question would appear in writing on the walls, until you spotted the huge splatter of liquid on the floor, "There's be-been an accident?"

The Principal muttered something under her breath as she pulled away from you, realising this would be more difficult than she had imagined — you were completely out of it, she'd had a long day of travel, and the past few days had been full of stressful events. The poor woman had barely entered the building before another issue arose. She hadn't even had the time to take off her coat.

Larissa rubbed at her temples. She thought for a second as she watched you spin around in her office chair, surely rendering yourself nauseas. The tall blonde shimmied out of her jacket before clasping onto the arm of the chair, halting your movements. Your head rolled as the world spun and Larissa waited for you to regain focus, leaning down to make sure you could clearly look into her eyes.

"I need you to do me a huge favour, darling," the Principal spoke in seriousness, gaining your full attention as you glanced up at her with glossy doe-eyes, "I'm going to leave the room for one minute and I need you to stay here and take care of my coat, can you do that for me? You have to try your hardest."

You froze as you allowed yourself time for Larissa's words to sink in and she patiently awaited your response.

"I can, I can do that."

"Good girl."

The Principal handed you her jacket and you eagerly wrapped your arms around it, pulling it into your chest as you fell back into the leather seat. Your eyes closed in content as you breathed in her scent and Larissa smiled nervously, taking one last longing look at you before scurrying away.

Luckily, she managed to find cleaning supplies and two bottles of water before your intoxicated mind could even wander towards the possibility of leaving your seat, despite the fact that you had most certainly forgotten her order before she had even stepped foot outside of the office.

By the time that Larissa had cleaned the blood-red droplets from your legs and had finished picking up every little shard of glass from the ground, you had been lulled half asleep and the bottle of water that you'd been given had been abandoned in your coat-clad lap. The Principal took the opportunity to go through her nighttime routine, only this time she completed it in just minutes, too worried that you'd wake up and somehow injure yourself.

When Larissa strolled back into her office, she had a hot cup of tea between her slender fingers and soft, brown slippers on her feet. A silk, long-sleeve pyjama shirt draped around her upper body, with matching pyjama pants covering her toned legs. Larissa would've never thought she'd be able to dress-down like this in front of you, but she was confident you weren't going to remember the night at all by the time tomorrows sun lit up the sky.

She remained wedged against the doorway to her sleeping quarters for a while, sipping gradually on her steamy beverage, awaiting the moment her eyelids began getting heavy.

You shuffled on the chair in your dream-like state, the bottle in your lap rolling off your thighs and onto the floor with a thud, making you flinch awake. Your eyebrows furrowed deeply in annoyance and you heard a gentle chuckle coming from somewhere on your right.

Your eyes met Larissa's and you would've blushed if you hadn't downed almost a litre of liquid courage.

"Shut up."

The Principal's face adorned a playful look as her laughter died down. She knew you weren't serious, no matter how angry you looked.

Larissa raised an eyebrow, "What were you even doing in my office, besides trying to steal my beloved bottles of red?"

You shrugged, "Jus' wanted a drink."

"Is that so? You seem like you've had more than enough, darling. I'm worried about you," the tall blonde spoke sincerely, the importance of the conversation being evident in her voice and on her face.

"Was feeling lonely," you admitted, focusing deeply on the hem of Larissa's jacket all of a sudden, picking at the fuzzy material. You did not want to cry while intoxicated — there was nothing worse than a sobbing, inconsolable, sad drunk.

"Oh, darling," Larissa cooed, immediately dropping the unimpressed-mother act that she was fully intending to make a deal of, and rushing over to set her tea on top of her desk. She knelt in front of you, warm hands reaching up to caress yours, smoothing over your cool skin in a comforting manner. "You could have called me, [y/n]. In fact, you should have—"

"Didn't wanna bother you."

"You're not a bother, darling. Never. Not to me."

There was a pause — a moment where Larissa realised the vulnerable path she was heading down.

She cleared her throat, grabbing the bottle of water that was by her foot before twisting the cap off and handing you the drink. "Here, finish this for me, darling. I'd absolutely despise for you to be hungover tomorrow."

You mumbled a 'thank you', hesitantly taking your first sip. Something about drinking water after consuming alcohol just made you hate the taste of it. But when it was Larissa asking, you couldn't really say no.

The Principal had plenty to say to you, though she didn't believe you were in the right frame of mind to hear any of it, so she swallowed those words and instead opted for something more time appropriate. Like sleep. Which you desperately needed.

"Let's get you back to your room, darling. You need rest."

"Noo!" You suddenly whined, taking the blonde by surprise, yet she remained understanding and patient, listening even as your voice turned to a whisper, "Don't wanna be alone again..."

Larissa's left hand cupped your right knee quickly, "Right, yes. Of course. Sorry, darling. You're more than welcome to stay here tonight, if that makes you feel more comfortable."

You nodded as your eyes felt droopy, still cradling Larissa's clothing in your arms, which didn't at all help raise your energy levels.

"Come on, sweet girl."

The Principal helped you stand, grasping your hand as you wavered. She never once let go, holding you firmly as she guided you towards her bedroom. And once your body had nested into the mattress, there was no chance you'd be getting back up, so Larissa swiftly set up a bottle of water and some pain relief on the bedside table.

Finally, when the blonde was truly convinced that you had been tucked in properly, a soft kiss punctuated onto your forehead, she turned to leave the room, only to be stopped by your slurred, sleepy voice.

"Stay."

A wave of surprise jolted through Larissa as her heart sped up, despite her freezing in place. The older woman suddenly felt conflicted. She didn't want to take advantage of the moment in fear that you'd regret the entire night as soon as you woke in the morning.

Your eyes fluttered open tiredly, "Please stay," you looked in the woman's direction with a pitiful pout.

Larissa's face softened. She didn't have the heart to turn you down, slowly sauntering over before climbing under the covers beside you. The Principal was comfortable on her back for only a few short seconds before you tiredly curled into her warm body in search of heat, making her breath hitch in her throat. She was definitely going to overthink the entire night away.

"Mmm... warm," you sleepily mumbled and the threads of tension snapped under the tall blonde's skin, allowing her to relax into your touch, feeling more at ease knowing that you were innocently enjoying her comfort.

"Sleep well, darling," Larissa hushed.

And before she could even get a response out of you, the bedroom filled with the sound of your soft snores, making the older woman breathe out in amusement.

[unreadpoppy]

Hi darling. Can I ask for soft Raphael? To help you a little I am giving you few prompts. You can use only one and if you are brave enough all of them :) *pearl necklace *bow - tie *swan

Hi anon, thanks for the request! I ended up only doing one of the prompts kkkk. This fic was very much inspired by @reallyhatethiswebsite fic, ‘Creature Comforts’ (go read it, it’s amazing!) and I took the concept of a Tav who’s a sex worker at Sharess Caress and Raphael’s favorite. Warning for the usage of the word “whore”. Hope you liked it!

…

Pearls - Raphael x Fem!Tav

…

That peacefulness was cut short when Tav felt someone shaking her awake. Still with her eyes closed, she turned around, ignoring whoever it was. Then, the sheets which she covered herself with were ripped off of her, prompting Tav to finally open her eyes, being met with Nym’s gray ones. Sitting on the bed, she asked “What do you want?”

The drow crossed her arms. “There’s a client waiting for you.”

Her eyes widened. “But it’s my day off! Can’t you attend to whoever it is?”

Nym shook her head. “He asked specifically for you. Mamzell tried to change his mind but he paid good coin.”

“Ugh.” Tav rolled her eyes, stretching her arms and putting her feet on the floor. Before getting up, she asked “Do you at least know who’s the bastard that ruined my sleep?”

The drow raised a brow. “Who else but that devil.” She smirked. “He seems quite smitten with you.” She teased as Tav quickly put on a simple, beige dress. “Considering how often he comes here, one might even say it’s love.”

Tav stood in front of the mirror, trying to make her hair look presentable. Her eyes met Nym’s in the mirror, and she raised one brow, skeptically. “He’s a devil. I doubt he even knows what love is.” She turned to look at the drow. “And if he was in love, he’d be a fool.”

“And what about you?” Nym asked, walking closer to Tav. “How do you feel about him?”

She contemplated her answer for a moment, gathering her thoughts. In truth, she quite liked him, as he was one of the few clients who treated her with respect. He would converse with her, long after her services were done, asking her about things beyond her work. He’d gift her with books and then discuss with her about it, complimenting Tav on her mind, saying ‘You are far more than just a body or a pretty face, dear. If none else can see to that, they are not worthy of your presence.’

It also helped that the devil was quite easy on the eye. Tav smiled. Maybe, if he wasn’t who he was and she didn’t have the work she had, there could be a chance to pursue those feelings, let them bloom.

Alas, Tav was still a whore and Raphael was still a devil, and so, she told Nym “He pays me well. That’s all I need to care about.” Grabbing a nearby shawl, she wrapped it around her shoulders, and left the room.

She remembered her mother’s words, uttered once when she was a child but that haunted her since.

There is no such a thing as love for people like us.

With that in mind, she made her way to the Devil’s Den, knocking on it twice before the doors were opened. Raphael stood in the middle of the room, hands behind his back, a smirk forming on his face as she walked in.

“My, my, finally you decide to arrive. Any longer and my feet would become rooted to the ground.”

Tav raised a brow, holding her shawl closer. “Well, it’s what you get for bothering me on my day off.”

“Ah yes, that. Mamzell tried to tell me off, but as you well know -“ He took a step towards her “I always get what I want. One way or another.”

Tav took in a deep breath. Raphael was close enough that she could smell his cologne - cherries with a hint of musk, overwhelming the smell of sulphur that fiends were known for. She looked at him, into his deep brown eyes, trying to take a read on him. He didn’t look like he was there for carnal pleasures, but Tav couldn’t tell his true intentions.

“And what do you want, Raphael? What was so important that you demanded I come see you?”

The devil smiled, taking a step back. “Do not worry, my appearance here is only momentary. In an instant, you shall be free to enjoy the rest of your day off.”

Tav huffed, crossing her arms, as Raphael walked around, giving a little speech.

“I have grown fond of you, you know? In my own way. And I kept thinking, how can I express my gratitude for all the time you have so graciously spent in my presence?”

With a flick of his wrist, a small, wooden, rectangular box appeared in his hand. Tav stepped closer, noticing carved inscriptions along the sides and on the lid, recognizing the language as infernal. She traced the words with her fingers, impressed by the fine work.

“Open it.” Raphael demanded in a soft tone. She did and inside, there was a pearl necklace.

“Raphael, I-“ Tav gasped at the sight, almost scared to touch it. The necklace seemed expensive, probably worth more than what Tav had ever earned.

“Do you like it?”

“I-it- it’s lovely.” ‘But I don’t think I should have it’ she finished the sentence in her mind. Tav had only ever seen the ladies of the Upper City wearing this sort of jewelry, doubting that a whore such as herself, who bedded devils, would be worthy of wearing it. However, she knew better than refuse such a gift. “Thank you.”

Raphael smiled. “I want to see it on you.” He grabbed the necklace, leaving the box on a nearby table. He moved behind Tav, his hands appearing in front of her, holding the adornment against her neck and clasping it on the back.

The pearls were snug against her neck and collarbone, not a tight fit but not too loose. She walked towards the pool, looking at her reflection.

“It’s beautiful.” Tav said, admiring the way the necklace looked on her.

Raphael appeared behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered, and Tav almost didn’t catch it. She felt his lips on her shoulder blade, and she could feel the blood rushing towards her cheeks.

Inhaling, Tav turned to look at him. “Thank you, again. It is a most precious gift.”

Raphael nodded. “I do not know when will we see each other again, as I have business to attend elsewhere and it might take long.” He sighed. “I hope you’ll see this token of my affection and remember me.”

“I will.” Tav moved forward and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, before walking towards the door.

Raphael smirked. “Tav.”

She turned to look at him. “Yes?”

“I want to see you wearing it when I return.” She smiled, nodded and Raphael snapped his fingers, leaving in a circle of smoke and fire.

Tav left the Devil’s Den, trying to contain a smile from forming on her face.

‘Maybe I’m the fool.’

[sadesluvr]

Mike Schmidt - NSFW Alphabet

I don't rest. Enjoy, and consume content responsibly.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mike is HUGE on aftercare. He obviously has difficulty sleeping, so even though he feels more relaxed, he still has energy to look after you. He’ll get you water, flannels or whatever you need to be comfortable (He moves around the house very quietly to not wake up Abby) and I imagine him to be a silent cuddler, with his arms around your body whilst you sleep. More about this in I!

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

I imagine him to be quite body neutral, but I suppose it would be his legs or hands, just because they have their practical reasons. On a partner, his favourite body part are mainly hips and ass, with thighs in third. Boobs too, he likes everything :>

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) He likes finishing on your stomach, boobs or thighs. It’s easier to clean that way, and doesn’t have to worry about the dreaded pregnancy (More in D!) He doesn’t get much relief so he has heavy loads…

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He has a breeding kink…He likes the idea of cumming in you; the feelings, the intimacy etc, and the *potential* of being a dad, even though he’s in a weird place. He would definitely wait until Abby is older though.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?) Basic experience, probably a silly fumble after prom. He definitely doesn’t own dirty movies or magazines, so I imagine he’s quite limited in experience, perhaps outside of a co-worker detailing their escapades. Once he’s with you, he starts to grow confident!

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying) Anything with his partner on top (He’s a tired bby)- The Lotus, The Basket or Reverse Cowgirl. Spooning also.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous?) No - Certainly not initially, and even after being together he has dark/sarcastic/dry humour, and so you’ll only have offhand comments that earn a chuckle.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Mike has BUSH. He’s definitely got a happy trail, and he’s trimmed, but it’s a bit more on the wild side. Nobody really goes down there but him so he doesn’t see a point.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.) He might take a while to open up, but over time he’ll let you in. He’ll leave gentle kisses over your body, and his touches may be needy but they’re never violent. He’s not big on dirty talk but he’ll whisper/murmur affirmations during the moment, and would let an ‘I love you’ slip during orgasm…

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon) PENT UP. On the 0.01% chance he does it at home, he’s in the shower and is VERY quiet. Other than that, he has to do it at the toilets at work if he’s desperate, but even then it’s rare. Takes more risks when touching himself when his partner enters the picture, but prefers to have physical sex with you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks) He’s not very kinky tbh - Breeding. Being a sub when his partner is a dom. Edging. Lingerie.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do) In the shower. It’s the only place with 100% privacy (Abby can run into his room at any moment) or the desk chair at the pizzeria. He just MIGHT consider doing it in a mall toilet. Your house if Abby has a sitter/at school.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going) Not much. Being gentle and caring definitely helps, but in a *kinkier* sense it would be you in lingerie, and/or dressed down in sweatpants. He’s obviously a homebody, but if you wore a nice outfit to go to a party for example he’d like that too.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Anything abusive, incestual, non-consensual, scat/piss play. He’s very simple.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) GIVING. He appreciates all that you do, and he’d spend an eternity in your thighs if he could. It’s also *kind of* low effort compared to physical sex so after a long day at work it’s what he needs. He does like receiving too, but feels bad about you doing it (Even though he knows he NEEDS it)

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.) Slow and sensual, but when reaching his climax his thrusts do get fast and sloppy, to the point he starts shaking.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Doesn’t mind them, and sometimes it’s all he has. He does prefer to have a domestic space around him, so doing them at work is a bit foreign to him. He LOVES a quickie in the shower before/after work, but, prefers when you hang around after.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.) No, for a good reason. He can’t risk doing it in public as he could have Abby taken from him, and he doesn’t like the anxiety of thinking she’d come in when you’re at home together.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?) He can’t do many rounds, as I see sex being quite the emotional effort for him. How long he lasts does depend on the day - the first time you’re intimate he finishes quite quickly, but he learns to build it up as sex becomes more frequent.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?) No toys. Gets a bit flustered if his partner mentions using a vibrator or something.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease) He doesn’t tease at first, but once he’s more comfortable and in an established relationship with you he definitely becomes a little shit! He could squeeze by you, grazing your ass on his crotch with his hands on your waist in the kitchen and say “Oops, sorry XD” and just smirk it all off.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He’s conditioned himself to be quiet, but if the house was completely empty on a day off he’d make noise - whimpers, grunts, sighs, gasps…He’s really pent up and overstimulated, and if he feels like he can be free he’s more than happy to let it out. He likes his partner to make sounds - it doesn’t have to be over exaggerated - but he’d just like to know he’s doing a good job.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character) Would fuck in his car. Again, in a COMPLETELY secluded area.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Average size (5 inches) but on the slightly thicker end. Circumcised. He knows how to use it!

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?) He’s very repressed, so once you’re in the picture he becomes more free. Abby is still his main priority, so he doesn’t let sex/relationships consume his life for practical reasons. He still doesn’t do it all that often, but roughly at least twice a month.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward) He has difficulty sleeping at times, but doesn’t do his ‘Dream Theory’ stuff after sex, as he naturally feels more relaxed and his eyes heavy. If his shift/day was particularly long and terrible, he’ll immediately fall asleep, and sometimes he may not even wake up from his nightmare…

[potatomountain]

*739 Seonghwa

*739 Masterlist

Synopsis: with sex work legal, it was as readily available as texting *739, filling out the form sent, and setting a time and place with an easy charge to your credit card. Even the more hefty kinks could be fulfilled with a professionalism that was respected, and could be addicting.

Word count: 7k

AN: so a little late as well as this wa supposed to be for a happy 5 years with Ateez <3 I just overestimated myself whoops. So to be fair- Wooyoung's will be delayed until I get back [so sometime in November] but Hongjoong's will be released around Halloween ^^

Also I barely edited so sorry if there are mistakes!

Warnings below the cut! Taglist at the bottom!

Smut warnings: food play, dom Seonghwa, use of toys in public, masturbation, multiple orgasms, oral [fem recieving], praise, 'Mommy' kink, breeding kink, food kink- body worship, aftercare, lil angst, unprotected sex, paid sex, sex worker. Sexual depictions and use of food!

This couldn’t be right- you’re ‘date’ for the night couldn’t be him.

He was fucking gorgeous.

Blonde hair that was practically white with half of it styled back to expose his forehead and gorgeous features. The black suit he wore with golden accents trimmed to his tall and slender body; his waist alone had you biting down on your lip just to remember the red lipstick you wore. Despite the deep red and black dress hugging your body, the most elegant cocktail dress you had, he made you feel underdressed.

You wanted to assume he was someone else’s date, but that was the table the host had motioned you towards, informing you that the other party had arrived. He hadn’t noticed you just yet, fiddling with a small black box and a rose that was on the table, which gave you plenty of time to drink him in. You weren’t alone in that endeavor, plenty of other people in the elegant restaurant were staring because even in the dim lights he was ethereal

It took several moments to remind yourself that this wasn’t a date- this was an arrangement you were paying for. The reminder surged you forward, stepping up to the semi secluded table on the far side of the restaurant- while it was still in sight of half the tables nearby, it was meant to give a sense of privacy and kept you out of earshot- that was why you had reserved this particular table.

He looked up when you approached, moving to stand up with a gentlemanly smile and your name on his lips like a question.

“Yes, that’s me. You must be Seonghwa then?” When he nodded your lips lifted in a smile but internally you were screaming.

You had no idea how you were going to handle the things you were paying him to do to you, not when his mere gaze had you hot all over. You were so fucked, flushing as he moved to pull your chair out for you and motioned for you to sit. Smoothing out your dress you did, thanking him under your breath as he pushed it forward.

A second later he was sitting across from you, a small smile on his lips as his eyes ran over you. After a moment of small talk, the waiter approached. Unsure just what to eat, considering what was going to happen after, you had glanced over at the model-worthy man across from you, both surprised and not when he ordered for you based on your preferences. Once the waiter was gone he turned to you, his smile a bit sheepish. “I hope you are alright with what I picked.”

You nodded, reaching for the glass of wine he offered. “Is that why you asked for my food preferences?”

“One of them. We discussed a lot over text earlier today after all, and I take pride in my job; I want to make sure you are taken care of properly during our time together, and that means eating food you’ll enjoy that still can be used for the purposes we intended. Speaking of- I’d like to know what items you bought from the list I sent you.”

You thought back to the conversation you had over text this morning, mentally going over each message until you could visualize the list. “I’ve never done this before so I just bought the basics I guess? Whipped cream, chocolate syrup, meltable chocolate that’s… safe, and a few things of fruit: mostly strawberries. I, uh, also bought some of the gelatin you recommended.”

He nodded, seeming pleased with your answer. “That’s more than enough, I might not use it all.”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you thought about just how he would be using those items, wondering where as well. It had you shifting in your chair and rubbing your thighs together. “I did everything else you asked as well. My home is clean, the fruits are clean, I showered, shaved, and pampered my skin. I’m-” You broke off, nibbling on your bottom lip and gripped your skirt, unable to finish the thought out loud. But from the way his gaze darkened he knew what you were going to say, what you were about to point out, heat pooling in your core.

“You follow directions well then, and the dress looks beautiful- I can hardly tell you’re lacking undergarments.” His smile turned coy, now holding out the small box to you. “Let’s change that. Finish your glass of wine and then go open this in the bathroom. You’ll know what to do.”

Swallowing hard, you took the box from him with a nod, struggling to find words, his straightforwardness throwing you off. “Y-yes.” Forgetting the first part of his order you stood up and hurried off to the restroom, even more self conscious of your lack of underwear now. When you glanced back at him, the cocky look on his features sent another wave of heat through you and you wondered if you would make it through dinner without soaking your dress in your own arousal.

How fucking hot would it be if you did?

Once in the bathroom you locked the door, opening the box after a few deep breaths but it just knocked the wind out of your lungs all over. A small pair of black underwear lay neatly folding in the box with a small handwritten note that said: Wear me. Feeling the fabric in between your fingers a groan escaped you- they were vibrating underwear.

“Fucking hell how am I going to make it through dinner?” Muttering to yourself you still followed directions, cleaning up the bit of slick between your legs before putting on the panties, noting the absence of the remote. He probably had it, and you wondered when he was going to use it.

Attempting to shake the thought off you washed your hands, taking your lipstick out of your small handbag and reapplying where you believed it had messed up. It was matte, unlikely to come off easily, but it had you paranoid still. It certainly helped for a moment, taking your mind off the fact that with every step you could feel the part of the underwear that rubbed against your clit, knowing it was going to vibrate at some point; the anticipation alone had your heart rate picking up.

Exiting the bathroom you debated on taking more time, but as soon as you saw him sitting at the table the thought was banished. His grin widened as he curled his fingers as if to say come here. You were about halfway to the table when it started, the briefest second sending a jolt up your body, tensing up your muscles and your eyes going wide. You thanked the heavens you didn’t make a sound, but you were frozen in place as you waited, expecting the vibration to start again.

It didn’t need to, not with the dark look Seonghwa was watching you with as you approached the table and took your seat. “You really do follow directions so well, such a good girl.”

The praise hit you hard, knowing that these panties, and your dress, would certainly be ruined before dinner was over. “Is this normal for you? Toying with your clients in public?”

He shrugged, sitting so elegantly in his seat and bringing the wine to his lips. “My usual sessions are a bit more vanilla than this, so I have to admit my excitement got ahead of me. It is part of what you asked for though, what we discussed. What was it you said exactly? Oh right-” His grin turned sensual, lighting your nerves on fire, “- you want to be wined and dined and teased before you’re eaten like a meal yourself. Isn’t that right?”

When he said it you couldn't help but get flustered, your fantasy seeming much more sinful. There were aspects to it that most certainly were, but none as sinful as this man.

Attempting to leash in your thoughts you cleared your throat, nodding and ignoring your heated cheeks. "Y-yes, that's the gist of it." You knew it was much more than that, parts of your fantasy, of what you went over, that went deeper than food.

"Then be a good girl for Mommy and I'll treat you right, Sugar."

You weren't sure what was the cause of the soft noise you let out; what he said, how he said it, the title and pet name, or the sudden harsh vibrations against your clit- but you had been so startled you couldn't fight it back.

He seemed pleased with himself, the vibrations stopping as he motioned for the wine you still hadn't finished. After what he just said, how could you refuse?

Only as you brought the wine to your lips, the vibrations shot through you, this time not stopping until the glass was empty. Panting and setting the glass down with shaking hands only to be met with praise for him.

That was the start of a vicious cycle throughout dinner. He would give an order subtly, whether by motioning to your wine, water, or food once that arrived. While you carried out the order, he would turn the panties on, stopping the moment you did- whether it was because you were finished or were getting too lost in the pleasure to continue the task- following up with praise.

Teasing you, edging you, and he was enjoying every second of it. Whenever the waiter or staff came to the table he would hit the remote and turn it up, bringing a finger to his lips to tell you to be quiet. It was no easy feat, especially when they had dropped the food off and taken their time leaving; you had almost come, only for him to tell you that you weren't allowed to do so in the restaurant.

A sinful Angel was a perfect way to describe him; his beauty overall ethereal, both masculine and feminine and only matched by the teasing nature and subtle tones of domination he let out through playful smirks, smoldering gazes, and subtle commands.

For a moment, you were sure you didn't pay nearly enough for this- for him. He was all yours for tonight, for this fantasy, which was priceless to you. You certainly weren't going to complain though, and he wasn't giving you a moment to do so, leaving you too wrapped up in his fingers without even touching you.

The entire dinner he hadn't touched you once, the only sign of his enjoyment was the heat in his eyes and the occasional lip bite you would catch out of the corner of your eye when he didn't think you were paying attention.

How could you focus on anything but him? Other than what he was doing to you?

The underwear was soaked by the time you were done clearing your plate, hoping there would be no dessert, in desperate need to leave the restaurant just so you could cum- just so he would touch you. But despite the look of disappointment on your features, dessert was ordered.

An ice cream and cake dish- lava cake with a scoop of vanilla bean on top with chocolate shavings and drizzle. The table was cleared and it was brought out, but Seonghwa was no longer sitting across from you.

He had allowed you to go to the restroom, only for you to return with both of your seats side by side facing the rest of the restaurant. A bit apprehensive you sat down when he pulled the chair out for you, eyes on the dessert as he pushed you forward. Unlike before he didn't pull away, instead leaning in until you could feel his breath on your neck. The softest touch of his lips shook you to your core even more than the vibration of the panties as he clicked them on.

"You're shaking, Sugar, does it feel that good?"

This close you could tell his voice was laced with arousal, the realization dashing away the words on your tongue so you nodded instead.

His lips moved up to your ear, kissing the shell. "Fuck I can't wait to get a taste of you, can't stop thinking about how sweet you're going to taste. You make the most delicious expressions already, I've almost broken the rules a few times- now included."

His confession threw you through a loop, the ground feeling as shaky as your underwear. He had been so calm and collected through dinner you would have never guessed he wanted you so much.

The realization that he did warmed your body in entirely different ways than before but you chalked his desire up to the fantasy, to the scenario, not specifically you. If you let yourself get that delusional you weren't sure your heart could make it out of this in one piece.

Odd thought that, developing a school girl crush on the sex worker you were paying to fulfill your deepest sexual and intimate desires- and over the course of one dinner.

So lost in your own thoughts you hadn't realized he was sitting down next to you now, not until his knee bumped into yours, drawing your attention. "Come on, Sugar, don't space out yet. Focus on me."

Still in a bit of a lustfilled- among other things- date you turned to him slowly, eyes on the dessert that sat in front of you both. Ice cream… you wondered how that would feel on your body.

The slight jerk of your chin didn't let you wonder at eye, your eyes meeting warm brown depths under furrowed brows. "Focus on me." He repeated in a more commanding tone.

"O-okay, I'm focused."

"Focused on?"

Confused by his prompt, and distraction by his thumb nudging your bottom lip, it took a moment for the light bulb to light up, your cheeks burning at the realization.

Batting your eyelashes you tried to act a little cute, looking up at him while tilting your chin down in submission. "F-focused on you, Mommy."

The sly smile that spread across his gorgeous lips had your breath lodging in your throat, not that your shamelessness hadn't already affected your breathing already. "That's my good girl. Now, part those pretty red lips for me and say ah."

Without questioning it you did, gaze unwavering from his as he brought a bite of the ice cream to your mouth, taking it slow. This was the foreplay, just as the rest of dinner had been, yet this felt far more intimate.

With each bite you opened your mouth and shut it when he said, swallowing when he said, not once taking your eyes off him despite how much his constant praises were flustering you. You forgot entirely where you were, hands on your lap just itching to reach out and touch him, to beg to be touched. You were practically number to everything but him and what he wanted you to do.

Halfway through the dessert he dropped his hand from your jaw and started up the vibratory again. You gasped around the bite in your mouth, your throbbing clit already so sensitive you didn't think you could take much more.

It seemed like he knew that, biting down on his lip he glanced down at your lap with the softest groan you would have missed it if you weren't so attuned to him. But neither of you acknowledged it just yet as he fed you yet another bite. And then another.

When he tried to give you the last bite you shook your head, whining and squirming in your seat glad the table kept your lower half out of view from the other people in the restaurant. "Mommy- I can't- please I'm gonna come- '' Breathless you pleaded, for either sweet release or for it to stop but you just couldn't keep your orgasm at bay any longer.

"I know baby, take this last bite and hold my hand, squeeze it while you make a mess of those panties." He held the bite out to your lips again and you eagerly took it. He set the spoon aside and held his hand out on your thigh palm up, not at all surprised with the tight grip you latched onto him with.

You couldn't even register the taste or texture of the cake, just grateful for it's presence to muffle the moan that reverberated up your throat when your climax hit. We were still gushing into the fabric when Seonghwa turned it off, leaning in and running his tongue along the corner of your lips.

Still shaking from aftershocks of your orgasm you could only stare as he pulled away just enough for you to see how long his tongue was as he licked his own lips, staring you down. "I bet you're a pretty fucking mess down there, Sugar. Can't wait to lick you clean."

Heated energy sizzles between the two of you two for a moment before, as if a trance was broken, Seonghwa was standing with your hand still in his. "I already paid and you did take an uber here correct?"

You nodded, holding onto his hand like a lifeline, legs still shaking. You didn't think anyone would be able to see the mess you made of the dress, but if you didn't get your fucked out expression off, people would certainly question. Clearing your throat, taking a deep breath, you forced a shaky smile. "Yes, and I messaged you my address earlier?"

"Already saved in the GPS. It's a short drive but there is enough time for a little more foreplay."

Brimming with anticipation, you managed to school your expression as the two of you left. You were surprised by the nice black sedan he led you to, the cozy leather seat he helped you into, but really you shouldnt be that surprised considering how much you paid him. The term 'sugar daddy' came to mind at first, quickly replaced by 'sugar momma'. Once more you fought the ever growing crush, warning yourself nothing good would come of this.

He certainly didn't help, not when his idea of foreplay was telling you just how to fuck yourself to make the biggest mess you could on his leather seats. He had you face him, legs spread but keeping the panties on. He controlled the vibrations but he had you steadily pushing two fingers into your sobbing cunt, pushing yourself to the edge but not once did he let you come, just make a mess.

He had barely touched you, hadn't even kissed you, and he's driven you to such a messy fucked out state that it was almost surreal. He's pulled out a side of you past lovers couldn't manage, which just had you melting I'm his figurative hands more.

"M-mommy, please- wanna cum." You whined out again, hips gyrating against the underwear and your fingers, watching him shamelessly. When you heard the click of the remote you let out a cry of desperation, fingers stopping knuckle deep in your pulsating cunt as he had instructed your fingers to stop anytime the underwear did.

"Soon, Sugar." He hissed through clenched teeth, both hands gripping the wheel, knuckles white, you were surprised he hadn't snapped the remote in half. "This is it yes?" He pulled up to your modest home in a somewhat upscale neighborhood.

You nodded, sitting up a bit straighter as you stared at your house, the usual sense of dread.of coming home to an empty home was replaced with anticipation for what would happen once the two of you walked inside. "This is it."

While he pulled into the driveway you moved your fingers a few times unable to help yourself, but the soft squelching sounds gave you away rather fast, your disobedience stopping with your name as a warning.

You attempted a sheepish smile when he turned the car off, only to be thrown off as your hand was ripped from your cunt and fingers brought to his lips. With bugging eyes you watched him suck and lick your juices off your appendages, your pussy clenching around nothing at the sight and even more juices gushing out of you.

The near primal groan that left him as his eyes rolled back just turned you on even more. "Holy fuck you taste so sweet, Sugar. Mommy's favorite fucking treat." It was the first time he fully lost his cool, showing off the ways he could use his long tongue and driving you crazy. There was enough heat in his gaze you felt like you were going to melt.

He dropped your hand when it was clean, leaning over the armrest as if he was about to clean up the mess between your legs- he stopped close enough you could feel his breath on your clothed, soaked core, leaving you frozen with anticipation.

"Not here- not yet." He muttered more to himself as he straightened up and cleared his throat. He got out of the car while you were still trying to process what was happening, somehow managing to sit right in your seat before your door was flung open. "Come on Sugar, let's head inside before I completely derail the night."

He stepped aside and helped you out, shutting the door a bit roughly behind you once you had your bag. With his hand on the small of your back he led you up to your door, keeping a respectable distance despite what had happened moments ago.

You were eager to get inside, fumbling with your keys until you were pushing the door open and kicking off your heels as you stumbled into the entrance. You heard the door shut behind you as you made your way through your house, turning on lights and heading for the kitchen.

Seonghwa was right behind you, the soft pad of his feet giving him away. You made it to the island counter before you were swung around by your wrist, lips crashing down on yours. He was gentle but also desperate, like he was devouring you with each stroke of his lips. His tongue prodded for entrance and you happily gave it, moaning as he explored your mouth.

His hands busied themselves with pulling you out of the dress and letting it fall to the floor. Pushing your panties down to your knees he picked you up and set you down on the counter. "Where are the-"

"In the fridge, front and center." You answered immediately, kicking the underwear off completely and leaving yourselves bare to him. "H-how does this work exactly?"

Seonghwa, on his way to your fridge, glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. "It's really simple: I cover all the parts of you I want to devour with sweet treats to make you sweeter and then… then I devour you." He turned back to the fridge and found the items immediately, smiling at the small bowl of cut strawberries next to everything else you mentioned. He pulled out the whipped cream and strawberries, searching for the melted chocolate.

Trying your best not to gush at his words, in more ways than one, you watched him place the edible items on the island. "The melted chocolate is in that bowl there." You motioned to a covered tupperware, as the instructions had said to leave it at room temp.

Chuckling he brought that over as well, taking a moment to drink you in with his gaze. "Lay back and spread your legs."

Obliging immediately, you kept yourself propped on your elbows just so you could watch him. First he pulled his jacket off, setting it on the counter before undoing his shirt. He folded first the jacket and then the shirt, taking his time while keeping his eyes on you- more so your pussy on display.

His pants went last, also folded up and set neatly aside leaving him in just the name brand boxer briefs that suited him well and did nothing to hide the bulge, or wet spot from his precum. He adjusted himself before stepping over, looking at his options. "The first part of a good meal would be presentation. So excuse me a moment Sugar, while I dress you up." He hummed out, hands running up your body from your knees, over your sides, up to your breasts where he gave a gentle squeeze, no doubt debating on just how he would do that.

You just let him have his way, eyes fixated on his every movement as he started with the whipped cream. Along the curve of your neck and the dips in your clavicle, around each nippled, a trail down your stomach and over your inner thighs which were still sticky with your own slick- he decorated you nicely with the cream alone.

Pleased, he tapped your jaw in a silent command to open, spilling some of the whipped cream into your mouth in a small mound. "Hold that there."

Next was the strawberries which he strategically placed. One on top of the mound in your mouth and several framing your cunt like a crown, with three in between your breasts like a trail. The melted chocolate however he kept aside, instead hovering above you as his eyes followed the path he had laid out with food. "You know… I actually love strawberries." He stated, lips diving down to pick up one from between your breasts with his teeth.

He brought his tongue to your breast next, puckering the peak with his teeth in between skillful licks of the cream. The sight of him was enough to full your stomach with liquid arousal, but with how messy it felt and good? You wondered if he was going to make you come without even touching your cunt.

After what he's shown you so far- you had full faith that he could.

He took his time devouring you, switching between eating one of the strawberries or licking up a section of the cream, keeping his focus on your torso. When he ran his tongue up the length of your neck, picking up the trail of cream there, you moaned, muffled by the cream still waiting to be taken from your mouth.

He wasted no time, shoving his tongue between your lips and scooping the small treat out in one fell swoop before kissing you deep and messy, huskily whispering your name against your lips.

When you had decided to pay for this fantasy, this was not how you pictured things going: it was better.

They way he used his lips and tongue to scoop up the cream and fruit on your body had the desired effect on you, while his supposed need with each touch just intensified it. It was sexual but intimate in a way that was almost loving.

Worshiping you.

You were in a daze when he pulled his lips away, your chin and lips as a mess of drool and spit and cream. Yet he stared down at you as if you looked even more beautiful this way, his tongue dipping out to lick his own lips. You couldn't wait to have his tongue elsewhere.

So you begged, reaching up and cupping his cheek, panting. "I want to feel your mouth on my pussy Mommy- please? I've been good right?"

He groaned, peppering your lips with quick kisses as he pushed your legs open. "Since my Sugar asked so nicely-" He moved down your body, turning his head to kiss the inside of your knees, humming deep in his throat as he licked and nipped his way up your inner thighs, taking in the cream that had settled on your flesh. He was messy with it, and you were beginning to think he liked it messy.

You would gladly be a mess for him, any day, any time, any where.

You loved what he was doing to you, especially when he found out you liked him biting you. He marked up your thighs until no cream was left, leaving just one last dessert.

His face was so close, breath fanning over your soaked lips, leaving your clit throbbing, but he took his time to admire the view. "Such a pretty sweet treat, Sugar. Mommy's going to enjoy this meal."

He dove in without hesitation, taking a swipe of cream before lapping up your slick around your lips. He moaned at the taste of you,n fingers digging into your flesh as he ate you out like you truly were the best meal of his life.

Boy did he know how to use his tongue and lips, driving you crazy. He alternated between sucking on your clit and shoving his tongue between your lips while his nose rubbed just right.

He didn't speak, too engrossed in fucking you with his tongue to do so, but he made plenty of sounds that showed his enjoyment. The moan he let out when you came on his tongue was positively sinful but he didn't stop.

He didn't stop until you were coming again and harder- soaking his face and chin. He didn't stop until you had cried so much you were incoherent. Only then did he start kissing his way up your trembling body. "That's it Sugar, making such a pretty mess for Mommy. Going to ruin you on my cock before I have one last fucking taste of you." He stopped to suck each of your nipples into a hard peak, biting on the areola.

"Mommy-" you gasped out as he pulled you roughly to the edge. Capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. "Please-!"

"Fuck Sugar, keep begging for me." He pushed his underwear down, his cock flopping against your cunt with a soft slap that had you whimpering. "My cock is just as hungry for this delicious pussy as I am- and I'm not stopping until it's had its fill."

"Oh fuck yes please Mommy. Want your cock so bad." You could feel his shaft rubbing between your pussy lips, soaking himself with your cum, your eagerness growing each time his cockhead hit your clit.

He seemed just as eager, biting down on his lip while he reached for the forgotten melted chocolate. Barely registering it in your lust filled daze, you were caught by surprise as he drizzled the chocolate over you: your chest, tits, and stomach then back up your throat to your lips. You help your tongue out for it, letting the little bit left drip down into your mouth despite still feeling full from dinner.

Purposely letting some slip out of your mouth you were rewarded by Seonghwa's guttural groan. "God damn- I don't even have to tell you. So fucking eager to be a mess for Mommy." Setting the bowl down, his eyes didn't move from your face as he pushed himself inside slowly.

With a strawberry he reached up and swiped your mixture of drool and chocolate off your lips then fed it to you. The second strawberry he fed you with his own lips, locking them in a kiss as his cock bottomed out inside. This kiss was slow and easy, savoring every taste and swipe of your lips without the desperation to devour you like before. He gave you both time to adjust, body flush against yours from hips to lips.

The sight of chocolate smeared on his chest when he stood up was almost as delicious as the first thrust of his cock. He was big, not monstrous, but you could feel him poking at your stomach. Pussy and stomach full, you bad to admit your heart felt full as well.

"Gorgeous. So damned gorgeous like this. You like it when Mommy takes care of you? Feeds you and pampers you? Then eat you?"

"Yes yes yes-"

"I do too Sugar. You take very good care of Mommy like this- the best fucking thing I've tasted. You like my cock too?" He accentuated the question with a harsh thrust, his hands moving over your body to rub the chocolate in.

You couldn't deny he was as into this as much as you were- that he loved this as much as you did- not with the way he looked at you or the raw emotion in his words. "L-love Mommy's cock. So good!"

Your arms hadn't been able to hold you up for some time now but with each thrust you had to grip the edge of the counter above you to hold on. It took everything in you to keep watching him; the twists of his expressions, the heat from his gaze making you feel as if this chocolate was freshly melted and hot against your skin- you wanted to see it all.

"And Mommy loves your sweet cunt. On my tongue, on my cock, on any part of me I want it."

There were only a few strawberries left but he used them to swipe up chocolate off of your neck and touch them to your lips, groaning each time you obediently ate the sweet treat. When he ran out of those, he used his tongue to clean off as much of it as he could, biting down on softer flesh as his thrusts became harsher and more erratic.

It was the way he sucked on your throat while his cock brushed against your sweet spot that had you creaming on his cock and crying out. His hips stuttered before he went harsher, purposely hitting the same spot with encouraging mutters to come undone again.

Scooping up some of the chocolate on two fingers he pushed them between your lips, holding them there and pressing your tongue down while he captured your gaze with his. Your head was buzzing still with orgasmic bliss, but you swore the way he looked at you was the exact way you always wanted someone to look at you for this.

Either he was a really good actor, or he found the mess you were so endearing you wouldn't be surprised if there were hearts in his eyes. You probably had some in yours, staring up at him as his praises stumbled into one another under your muffled moans. "That's it. Such a pretty fucking mess. The sweetest Sugar- so addicting- holy fuck I'm going to fill you up, make you an even sweeter cream pie. Fill you up with babies and breed you like a bakery oven. Fatten you up and devour you over and over- Fucking hell I'll be your God damn Mommy then, Sugar."

Breeding kink wasn't on your list but God damn when he said things like that to you- your head went blank and filled with so much cotton you saw white as he brought you to another core shattering climax that had you shaking and drooling.

He was too, burying his cock deep and filling you up as he promised, drool slipping down his chin and tongue out.

Time flowed both quickly and too slow then, the ringing in your ears left you feeling detached from your mind while your numb limbs left you feeling detached from your body. You barely registered when he pulled out of you, staring blankly up at his features when he sat you up in his arms and peppered your face with sweet, adoring kisses.

"You did so well."

Your only reply was a satisfied sound, head falling forward to rest on his shoulder as he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were aware he was still inside you as he walked, only realizing where the moment you were sat down on your bathroom counter. "M-mommy?"

"Shhh, baby, I'm right here." Cupping your head he brought his face close for you to focus. "We're going to take a shower now alright? Mommy will wash you up and get you ready for bed. Do you think you can stand?"

You nodded, blushing at the obvious concern on his pretty face. "Yeah- I can."

He still helped you into the shower, standing in the way of the water as it warmed up before he guided you under the warm stream and was true to his word: he washed you up. Even got on his knee and had you lift your legs so he could wash every inch, including between your toes.

He was so focused and careful with your sensitive bits you felt your heart squeeze. "I'm sorry to ask but- what are your sexual preferences and kinks? Can you tell me that?"

He looked up at you, hand stilling on your thigh where he had been admiring a bite mark. "We usually don't discuss-"

"I want to know. I-I need to know." You interrupted him, suddenly filled with a desperation you believed was from nowhere. "Your honest answer… please."

Slowly he stood, brows pushed together as he eyed you critically. "Sugar…" With a sigh of resignation he tucked your hair behind your ears, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Go use the restroom and head to your room- I'm going to wash up and then I'll join you." Clearly about to protest, he rushed on- "I'll answer your questions then, but first I know you probably need to use the toilet so go first."

He wasn't wrong, but you reluctantly left the shower, letting him wrap you on a towel before you left him.

Only a few moments later, once you did as he said, did he join you in your room, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist and a smile that almost felt too bright. "You really listen so well."

You just nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed in the towel, eyes locked on his frame as he stepped closer. "Will you tell me now?"

"Of course." He busied himself immediately with drying your hair with the extra towel he brought, standing just before you. "My personal preferences were in play a lot tonight. I enjoy taking care of my partner, in all the ways I've taken care of you tonight and more. Food play isn't something that I'd want to do all the time, but I enjoyed it far more than I have before."

He dropped the towel around your shoulders, tilting your head back to look at him. "You wanted to make sure I really wanted you, right? That I enjoyed every bit of this, just as much as you did? Am I right?"

There had been a few times you had been positively sure he had, but he was right: you needed confirmation. "That's right."

"Hmmm-" He softened, bringing you to your feet so he could dry off the rest of your body. "First answer me something- why was this so important to you? This fantasy?"

Now that was a loaded question, one that would take far too long to answer and reveal far too many personal things that he didn't need to know.

Even if a part of you wanted him to know everything.

"Let's just talk it up to Mommy issues and a bad streak with relationships left me desperate to feel loved… is that good enough of an answer?"

He nodded, his frown deepening. "Yes. And to answer yours… I did. I wanted you every second tonight and enjoyed it all. It almost feels like a crime that you paid for this."

You weren't sure how to respond to that, not when your heart felt like it had started a marathon, so you just watched him meticulously dry off every inch of you.

You didn't know how to tell him that those words took care of a part of you that felt impossible to reach. You weren't sure you wanted to tell him. What would he think of you? As you two had been strangers before tonight.

So you kept quiet, watching as he scoured your room for pajamas before bringing over a cute pair back to you. The smile was back on his face as he dressed you, no commands needed as you just did what he wanted without a thought. It was easy following his lead, you didn't even need to hear the commands.

"Such a good girl for me, Sugar, but now it's time for bed." He picked you up with ease, carrying you around and laying you down before you could protest. "Do you want some water or something? Do you need anything for indigestion or pain?" He looked you over before pulling the blanket tight over you, but his jaw dropped when he looked at your face again. "Sugar? Why do you look so hurt?"

"Stay." You blurted out, fighting off tears as you reached out to grab his wrists. "Just for tonight, you don't have to be here in the morning… just please Seonghwa- I don't want to be alone after this."

He melted under your pleas, bringing your hand to his lips. "Of course Sugar, I'll take care of you any way you need tonight."

Despite knowing it was just for tonight, just as he said, relief flooded you. Your hand went lax in his grip as you relaxed into the pillows, nodded.

He didn't join you right away, instead leaving to fetch his clothes first. When he came back his underwear was back on but he set his folded suit on your corner chair, then thankfully slid into bed opposite you.

Hesitant at first, you watched him, only to squirm into his arms when he motioned you into them. He held you close, pressing kisses to your forehead and temple until you were putty in his arms.

Sleep didn't elude you for long, what a godsend a warm embrace could do for the tired soul.

"If I'm lucky enough to have you again, I hope I can prove to you how lovable you are, Sugar. In fact I might be a little desperate to do so."

You almost mistook his words for a dream in your half-asleep state, but the soft way he whispered your name against your brow and his warm hold were proof it wasn't.

You truly felt loved as sleep pulled you under.

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[bi-bard]

When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing - Kaz Brekker Imagine [Shadow & Bone]

Title: When They Took Everything from You, You Found a Way to Make Something from Nothing

Pairing: Kaz Brekker X Reader

Word Count: 3,303 words

Warning(s): **HEY! LOOK RIGHT HERE!** mention of S.A/Assault (within original story's context), mention of abduction

Summary: (Y/n) experiences their first day at the Little Palace. They are confronted with the weight of their new responsibilities, starting with being presented to the king. They also learn just how difficult it will be to work with General Kirigan and the other Grisha.

Author's Note: Shout out to my friend who sent me a picture of a few pages of the book to help inspire a part of this imagine. (we should all love my friend because she is the reason that this OC was continued and the story got developed)

Also, Kaz isn't in this, but Kaz is the romantic interest.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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I didn't sleep much during my first night at the Little Palace.

I barely even touched the bed after I woke up there the first time. No, my first sign of defiance was my choice to refuse to go to bed as Kirigan told me to. I was not a pet. I refused to be treated as one.

I had a lot of night left to waste.

I contemplated the letters that I would have written to the Crows if I ever trusted a person here enough to believe my written words wouldn't be used against me.

Saints, I missed them all so much more than I ever could have considered.

I don't know when the tiredness overcame my stubbornness.

All I know is that one moment, I was sitting at the table with my jaw clenched and a glare fixed on my face. The next, I was waking up, cheek resting on my folded arms on top of the table.

I felt my heart drop as I looked around the room.

I had been hoping that it would all be some kind of twisted dream. I didn't want this to be real. I wanted to be home. To wake up to some kind of familiarity. Back in the Crow Club so I could play cards with Jesper or with Inej while she tried desperately to teach me how to throw as well as her or even just being in Kaz's office while we bickered over some part of whatever plan he was making.

I found myself grinning at the thought of Kaz.

Saints, that boy consumed every thought I had. It was getting unfair at this point. Especially when I was convinced that there was no world where he would see me in nearly the same light that I saw him.

My dwelling on my senseless pining was brought to an abrupt halt by the door suddenly getting slammed open.

"Excuse me-"

The woman leading the charge cut me off, "Saints... have you ever bathed?"

I raised an eyebrow at her, "The abduction didn't exactly leave me much time to pamper myself."

A sigh escaped her before she snapped her fingers at some of the people that had followed her. "Fetch my kit."

Two of the other people grabbed my arms, pulling me into the small bathroom attached to the room.

Once they tried to pull my clothes off, I shoved them away. They went to grab me again, but I simply pushed them again.

"Grab me again and you'll be the first ones to witness my 'gift'," I snapped. "I am perfectly capable of washing and dressing myself."

"Everyone out!" the original woman yelled.

She found her place in a chair in the corner while everyone filled out.

I crossed my arms, my disgust clearly written on my face. I nodded to the door, trying to motion for her to leave. She just tilted her head and smirked at me.

"Unbelievable," I muttered.

I yanked my clothes off and climbed into the tub. One of the lingering workers grabbed my clothes before running off.

The water was warm. The sponge was nicer than I expected it to be. I took a deep breath through my nose. It smelled like something sweet. I couldn't place it.

"You are to be presented to King Pyotr in an hour," the woman said as I scrubbed at my skin.

"Excuse me?"

"You are going to be presented to the king in an hour," she repeated. "I am here to ensure that you are presentable."

"And that includes watching me bathe?"

"What if you were to drown?"

It was pure sarcasm, but I wouldn't be surprised if General Kirigan had sent her to actually ensure that it didn't happen. I just huffed and rinsed my skin off.

I pulled myself up from the tub. The woman walked up behind me and offered me a robe to cover myself. I pulled it on quickly, tying as tight a knot as I could.

It was annoyingly comfortable. Softer than any fabric that I had been given the fortune to touch. But I would rather burn then and there than let anyone in this place see that.

She brought me back to the main room, stopping to touch my chin and inspect my skin in the natural light coming through the window.

"What are you doing," I asked.

"Seeing how much work I need to complete in our very limited time together," she replied. "I should thank you for giving me an excuse to force out that little group that trails behind me. Much easier to do my work when I have no additional interruptions."

"You could always thank me by helping me get out of here," I replied.

She let out an amused huff. "You're funny."

"Wasn't joking."

She reached up and dragged her thumb along my cheekbone.

I felt something shifting under my skin. As if something was scratching and hoping to get out. I yanked myself away from her, reaching up to cover what she had touched.

"What did you do?" I snapped.

"My job," she answered. She motioned to the mirror.

I walked over and glanced at my reflection.

There had been this scar on my cheek. It was from back when I started working with Kaz. I had tried to kick out a man that didn't want to leave the Crow Club just yet. In response to my instructions, he hit me. It wouldn't have scarred if I hadn't picked at it. I could still hear Kaz snapping at me to stop messing with it whenever he caught me.

The scar was gone now. I touched the skin, hoping to find some indent. Nothing.

I turned back to the woman, who looked incredibly proud of herself.

"Healer?"

"Tailor," she corrected. "Rare. Not nearly as special as you, but... still rare."

Her next move was the fresh wounds. The ones that were a direct result of Kirigan's abduction plan and my fight against it.

"I'm Genya, by the way," she introduced. "(Y/n), right? Feels wrong to only call you the Sun Summoner."

I just nodded.

"I was told you were from Ketterdam. Well, you were hiding there. What was that-"

"Genya," I stopped her. "I understand that you are trying to be polite and friendly, but I need you to understand that I am here against my will. I am doing exactly what I need to do to survive and try to ensure the safety of those I care for. I have no interest in forming connections."

She paused for a moment. I couldn't tell if she was truly shocked or merely attempting to call my bluff.

"Fair enough," she finally replied. She reached down and grabbed my hand.

Old scars from the rare moments when I would get caught pickpocketing. Mostly small scars from nails scratching me as they grabbed my hands.

I didn't stop Genya's work until she got to the scar on my arm. I snagged her wrist, gruffly shaking my head.

She raised an eyebrow as she pulled back. "Sentimental?"

I didn't respond to her question.

Her smirk just grew.

Yes. It was me being sentimental.

The scar was fairly long and sat on the outside of my forearm. Inej had tried to help me learn to throw knives without me stabbing myself. I had thrown a knife at our makeshift target but had the handle hit instead of the blade. I had ducked and shielded my face, so when the knife came back, it slid over my arm and left the cut.

After making sure that I was okay, Inej had a tough time keeping it together.

Sitting there and watching her try to cover up her laugh was one of the first times that I felt like I had truly connected with her.

I was proud to be sentimental about it. Just not here.

"Sit," she nodded to the seat. "I'll be done before you know it."

I took a deep breath before listening to her.

She was being honest about that much. I had managed to get lost in my thoughts enough for it to feel like mere seconds before she was having stand so I could get dressed.

The great outfit for me to meet the king in was... the same outfit that I had been wearing when I was taken from Ketterdam.

The only added detail was a ridiculous veil meant to shield my face from everyone else.

"That seems ridiculous," I said. Genya raised an eyebrow at me. "You just want to put me in the same clothes?"

"They suit you well," she replied.

I started pulling on the clothes. I muttered under my breath as I did. It wasn't until I was tying up my ever-fateful boots that she spoke up again.

"We could have just left them as they were. Coated in dirt and sweat and... whatever lines the streets of Ketterdam."

I turned to her.

"You should be a little more grateful."

"Oh, you're right, how kind of you to clean the clothes that I was abducted in before forcing me to wear them to face the king," I said sarcastically.

She paused for a brief moment before responding, "Don't be silly, it's simply a recreation."

"Was that necessary?"

She raised an eyebrow at me as she placed the veil over my head. "Expect more?"

"If I was apparently so valuable, then I would imagine that having me look like... this wouldn't be appealing to your precious king."

She hummed, "Well... you don't want to attract too much attention from the king."

She said it in as light-hearted a voice as she could, but I caught her eyes before she could turn away from me to continue walking. They worried me. There was simply so much sitting there. None that she meant to show. Knowledge of some "consequence" of that attention.

It was a dark look, a sad look that I had only been allowed to see on one person's face before that moment.

Inej.

My heart fell a bit. I felt just as useless now as I did then. If I hadn't been so focused on my coldness, then I would have asked her to explain that statement a little further. I would have helped her. I would have done more than just sit there.

This is why I knew that I wasn't the saint that people wanted me to be. If I was, I would have done better. By both of them.

This wasn't the feeling of familiarity that I wanted.

Genya didn't speak on her statement more.

"He wishes to see you as something newly found," she said. "Saved from the Barrel and whatever unsavory life that he believes it offered you. He'll want to take credit for you being found."

"Like a rare animal," I replied. "New and interesting... and placed in a cage so they cannot fight back."

"A very comfortable cage," Genya shrugged.

I rolled my eyes.

"Come on."

I followed Genya out of my room, letting her lead me down the hall.

We walked in silence through most of the halls. I wanted to get a grasp of the layout. I knew that I would need to have it memorized for later.

I spotted a library, where the nearest staircases, and the potential exits.

There was no denying that the Little Palace was a gorgeous place. It was designed to treat the Grisha as nothing less than almost-royalty. Separate yet superior. If only their rise to power didn't involve shoving so many into the dirt on the way up.

Genya tried to explain who would be at the event today. I didn't pay much mind to it. It was rude, yes, but I don't think I can be faulted for not being the kindest of individuals considering the circumstances.

"Genya," I turned my eyes forward at the sound of one of the few voices that could make me truly sick to my stomach. Kirigan. "I believe I can take over the guiding from here."

She nodded to both of us before walking away. I pushed the veil off of my face.

"Shall we," Kirigan motioned toward the door. I walked a few steps ahead of him. "The Grand Palace may be the ugliest building I've ever seen."

I simply hummed in response. Polite, but not going out of my way to continue the ever-so-interesting conversation.

"How was your rest?"

I didn't respond, still admiring the outside of the Grand Palace, the Little Palace, and the courtyard in between.

"You do know that you can talk to me," he continued.

"Thank you for the permission," I replied. "If I ever have the desire to accept your offer, I'll be certain to inform you."

He grabbed my wrist, pulling us both to a stop and forcing me to turn and face him. I flinched away from him. I never thought that I would miss the feeling of Kaz tapping my shins with his cane to do the same thing, yet here I was. Still thinking of him, even when I was about to face the king of Ravka.

"What," I asked.

"I understand that these are not ideal circumstances-"

"You kidnapped me-"

"I am requesting that you pretend to have some understanding of how important this is," he said. "How important you are. I'm asking you to behave like an adult."

"Promise to do the same?" I tilted my head. "I am sorry but there is going to be no form of cooperation here if you cannot even truly accept that what you did to me was wrong."

"Who are you to tell me the difference between right and wrong? Last time I checked, you were part of some gang of lowlifes before I found you."

I clenched my fists. Again, choose your battles at the right time.

"Behave yourself," he scolded me. "We are going to meet the king. I am going to present you, you will show your powers, and the king will allow me to keep you here for training. Then, we will tear down the Fold together.

"We are officially too far down this path for us to turn back and question how we got here. You may not believe me, but I am trying to do what is best for us. For you, for me, for all of Ravka. Even those little Crows of yours."

"Don't speak of them," I snapped. "Never speak of them. You have no right to hold their names on your tongue."

A smirk pulled at Kirigan's lips. "I admire your stubbornness. I just wish it were applied in the place that truly needed it."

I rolled my eyes.

"I will earn your trust as best I can," he continued. "For now, I am asking you to pretend that I have already earned it. They will need to see that if they are ever going to believe that we can tear the Fold down."

I took a deep breath and pulled the veil back down over my face.

"Thank you-"

"Save it."

We walked to the Grand Palace in silence.

We were followed inside by guards and a collection of other Grisha.

The hall felt packed as we walked in. I never thought that I was one who feared attention, but I hadn't truly experienced it on such a scale. I had gone from completely hidden to completely known in a night. It was enough to churn anyone's stomach.

I stopped next to Kirigan in the middle of the room. I took a breath before lifting the veil from other my face. Someone took it from my hand. I nodded to them.

The crowd was only worse without the obstruction to my sight. And now I couldn't how desperately I wanted to close my eyes and hide from it all.

"I thought they'd be taller," the king said immediately.

I took a breath, keeping my attitude to myself. I felt Kirigan's eyes shift to me for just a moment. As if he were checking on my behavior like a parent does with a child.

"Good morning," the queen added awkwardly.

"Good morning, your highness," I replied, nodding my head in respect.

"So polite," she gushed. "Considering where you've been living, of course."

I wondered how much of Inej's throwing lessons had properly stuck with me. "Thank you, your highness."

Kirigan spoke up before I had a chance to properly introduce myself, "They are (Y/n) (Y/l/n). The Sun Summoner, moya tsaritsa. They will change the future."

I felt his eyes turn to me again.

"Starting now."

He lifted his hand, drawing in two waves of shadow from either side of the crowd. It filled the room, covering any ounce of light. He stepped to the side, facing me fully.

I turned my eyes up to the shadows surrounding me. I took a breath, closed my eyes, and drew the sun in.

A ball formed in my hands. I cast it up into the center of the shadow.

It glimmered as the light tore it down.

I heard the applause before I opened my eyes. When I did, the king had stood from his seat, leading the audience's response. I grinned at him, nodding as a quiet sign of appreciation.

Kirigan stepped over again. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"Asking a little early," I whispered back to him.

"How long will they need," the king asked, turning to Kirigan.

"Destroying the Fold is no easy feat," he explained. "It is possible that (Y/n) may not have the ability to complete the task alone. I request that they remain with me in the Little Palace to train. Undisturbed."

"Then train them quickly," the king replied. "Our wars have been a noble pursuit, but this chat about the west becoming a sovereign nation, that needs to stop. The sooner we are one country again, the better."

"I agree," Kirigan nodded. He tilted his head down. "Moi tsar."

I mimicked his bow.

He guided me to turn around, leading me back to the crowd of Grisha. He only stopped for a moment.

"Welcome home, (Y/n)."

He walked away, finding his way through the crowd to leave.

I was left with the guards and the Grisha.

The Grisha were welcoming. All of them seemed to be buzzing due to my presence and what they had just watched. I tried to be as polite as I needed to be. Nods and shaking hands and small grins. Far too many hugs. That was all that I could offer.

There was one woman who stuck out. Long dark hair with bangs. She stood perfectly straight with her shoulders rolled back enough to make her appear like a soldier.

"It's such an honor to formally meet you," she said.

I didn't have a chance to respond before I was pulled into a rough, tight hug. I barely caught sight of the smug grin on her face. I awkwardly hugged her back regardless.

"You reek of the Barrel," she muttered to me.

I chucked and leaned back just slightly, mumbling into her ear to ensure that my words were only heard by her, "And you reek of the General."

She tilted her head, grin now tighter and more forced.

I offered a sickeningly sweet grin before allowing myself to be guided out of the room by Genya, who I must've simply missed when I first arrived. She guided me back to my room, claiming that I deserved a bit of rest while waiting on my kefta to arrive.

I knew that this event was only a first step. Merely one day in what could be hundreds.

But I was okay with that.

As long as the Crows were at the end of that long line of days.

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