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justmeinadaze · 2 months

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Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)

"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"

A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.

ENJOY!

Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)

ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.

Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)

“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”

“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”

“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”

“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”

“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”

You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running.

You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term.

Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.

These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.

When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”

(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”

(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “

(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”

(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.

(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”

(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours.

(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”

(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”

(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions.

(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”

(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”

(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”

(9:01pm) “Or what?”

…

(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”

(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”

(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”

(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”

(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”

(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”

(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”

(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”

(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”

(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”

(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”

(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”

(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”

(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”

(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”

(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”

(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”

(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”

(9:46pm) “*Daddies”

(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”

(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”

As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!

Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.

############

That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him.

When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours.

As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.

(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”

(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”

(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”

(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”

(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”

(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”

(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”

(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”

(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”

(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”

(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”

(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”

(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”

(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.

Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers.

“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”

You smiled as you turned on your microphone.

“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”

“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”

The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less.

“No.”

“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.

“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”

“Or are totally naked.”

“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”

“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”

“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”

“Again fair.”

“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”

“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”

“I’m the rockstar.”

Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…

“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone.

“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”

“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”

Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.

“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”

“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.

“I like that sassy attitude.”

“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”

“Most men can’t.”

“Most men aren’t us.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together.

“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”

Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view.

“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”

“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”

You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.

“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast.

“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”

Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.

“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”

“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”

“Fuck…yes.”

“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”

“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”

“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”

“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”

Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high.

“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”

“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”

“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.

“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”

The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar.

“Again…we aren’t most men.”

“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”

Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile.

“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”

“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”

“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”

You listen as they heavily sigh.

“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”

After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything.

As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen.

Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!

Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep.

##############

(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”

(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”

(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”

(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”

(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”

(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”

(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”

(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”

(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”

(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”

(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date.

(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me.

(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.

(6:36pm) “Needed.”

(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”

(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”

This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!

***

(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!

(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.

(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”

(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”

(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”

(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”

(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”

(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!

“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”

When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand.

“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”

You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist.

“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”

“Y-Yes?”

“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.

“Yes, I trust you.”

“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

***

“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”

You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer.

“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”

“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”

“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”

You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge.

Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress.

Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath.

“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in.

We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”

Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress.

The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place.

“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed.

Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you.

“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”

Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.

“Yeah…who-who is this?”

“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”

“Were you two not together?”

You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.

“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”

“Better, thank you.”

He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing.

Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.

“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”

Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room.

“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.

“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”

You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again.

“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”

You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm.

“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”

“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”

Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder.

“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off.

You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.

“What are you sorry for, honey?”

“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”

Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.

“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.

“Because he’s a fucker.”

“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his.

“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”

Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears.

“God, I love your attitude.”

“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”

“Not what we’re looking for.”

Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet.

“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”

You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost.

“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.

“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be.

A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.

“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”

“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”

Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.

The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin.

“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”

You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.

Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction.

“Please.”

“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”

“Yes, Daddy, please.”

His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core.

“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”

“Can…Can I have you both?”

“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want.

“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”

“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”

You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you.

“Oh…my…”

“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”

Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum.

“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”

They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”

His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies.

“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”

“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”

“Yes, sir.”

You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan.

“Take your time, honey. I got you.”

As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair.

“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”

“How does she feel, man?”

“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”

When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.

“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him.

Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.

“Are you ready, princess?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”

Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”

Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them.

“Oh my God. Yes!”

“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs.

Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin.

“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”

Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.

“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”

Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.

“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”

“Ok, Daddy.”

After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body.

“Are you both going to stay?”

Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head.

“Do you want us to?”

“I promise I won’t look.”

Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep.

#################

When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home.

You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side.

“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”

“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”

“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”

“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle.

“Holy shit!”

“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”

“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”

Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar.

Rockstar…

Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.

That voice. I knew that voice.

“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.

“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”

Mogul…

“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins.

As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.

521 notes · View notes

mxnsterbabe · 2 months

Text

Male Troll/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,343 Tags & Warnings: plus size monster Part One (here) | Part Two (coming soon!) Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

You’re an escort, but the last thing you expected was to fall for your favourite client.

You pause outside the sleek facade of the restaurant, the cool evening air caressing your skin. Glancing at your phone one last time, you scroll through Sorrel's profile, absorbing every detail. Sorrel, an unusual name for an even more unusual client.

Trolls rarely make their way into the heart of the city, preferring the solitude of their natural dwellings. Yet here you are, about to meet one for dinner in one of the most upscale places in town.

Your job often demands a chameleon-like ability to adapt, to mould yourself into whatever your clients desire. A laugh here, a sympathetic nod there, all performed with the ease of a well-rehearsed play.

Sorrel's request is refreshingly simple: just company, and above all, authenticity. It's both refreshing and daunting. How long has it been since you were asked to simply be yourself?

Taking a deep breath, you tuck your phone away. Your reflection in the restaurant's glass doors gives you a moment's pause—a young woman, elegantly dressed, poised on the edge of an unfamiliar encounter.

With a final steadying breath, you push the door open and step into the warm, amber-lit interior.

A pretty waitress, with a smile as polished as the cutlery, guides you through the restaurant when you enter. The beauty of the place unfolds around you; all soft lighting and hushed tones. Chandeliers cast a golden glow over tables draped in pristine white linen, each adorned with delicate glassware and silver.

The murmur of conversation blends with the gentle clinking of dishes, and soft, classical music plays. It doesn’t strike you as the kind of place a troll would like; they’re known for their love of natural living, not fine-dining.

As you take in the opulence, a flutter of self-consciousness washes over you. The elegance of your surroundings makes you feel suddenly underdressed, and you can't help but wonder about Sorrel. The cost of dining here must be astronomical; does he intend to make a statement, perhaps to showcase you as a trophy of his affluence?

As you approach the booth, you see him. Sorrel is a striking figure, a hulking presence that commands the space around him. His mossy green hair, a wild, natural crown, complements the dense fur that covers his body. His eyes, sharp and discerning, fix on you, and there's an intelligence in his gaze that belies the brutish stereotype of his kind. Despite the tailored suit that strains slightly against his muscular frame, there's no disguising the power in his broad shoulders, the soft curve of his belly. The suit, while elegant, seems almost a concession to human norms, doing little to mask his inherent, rugged appeal.

A wave of unexpected attraction washes over you, stirring a flush of excitement in your stomach. It's an odd sensation, this pull towards someone so different.

Gathering your composure, you slide into the booth, the soft leather cool against your skin. The space between you and Sorrel crackles with an energy as you offer a gentle smile.

"Hello," you begin, your voice well-rehearsed. You're acutely aware of your posture, the calculated tilt of your head, the practiced smile. Sorrel asked for authenticity, but it’s difficult when faced with such an imposing man.

Sorrel's response, however, is not what you anticipate. His voice, deep and resonant, carries a gentleness that seems at odds with his formidable appearance. "Good evening," he rumbles, his sharp eyes softening. "I hope the night finds you well."

As he speaks, the tension in your shoulders begins to ebb. There's a sincerity in his words, a vulnerability that peeks through the confident exterior.

With a smile, you turn to the menu. You hesitate, the array of exquisite dishes foreign and intimidating. There are a lot of words, and a lot of words that you don’t understand.

Maybe sensing your uncertainty, Sorrel leans in. His hands brush against yours, and the warmth of him makes you shiver..

"The risotto is my favourite. The salmon, too - it’s this one here, at the bottom."

You glance up at him, face flushed. You’ve been on countless escort jobs, and it’s always just been that. A job. Yet, as you soak in Sorrel’s warmth, his fur tickling your palm, something stirs inside you.

The words stick in the back of your throat as a waitress arrives. All you can do is nod in agreement as Sorrel makes a suggestion, and the waitress departs with your order.

There's a lull in the conversation, a moment of silence as you take in the man before you. "I must admit," you find yourself saying, breaking the quiet with a nervous laugh, "I didn't expect someone like you to be in a place like this." The words are out before you can stop them, and a flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks. "I mean, I made assumptions based on... well, what I thought I knew about trolls. I'm sorry."

Sorrel's laughter, rich and warm, fills the space between you. "No offense taken," he assures, his smile genuine. "I often find myself frequenting these types of restaurants. The same way the forest holds its charm, so does a well-crafted dish or a beautifully composed piece of music."

"I've not had the chance to dine in places as grand as this very often," you admit with a laugh, the restaurant's opulence still wrapping around you like a soft blanket. "It's a rare treat. You must do quite well for yourself, Sorrel. What is it that you do?"

Sorrel sets his glass down, the light catching the deep green of his eyes. "I left my clan some years ago," he begins, his voice solemn now. "We had... differing views on how to engage with the expanding human world. I believed in integration, in finding a way to coexist beneficially."

You lean in, captivated by his story, the depth of his conviction. "So, what did you do?"

"I started my own company," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "We specialize in eco-friendly construction materials. It sounds dull, I know, but it’s something I care about."

Your chest flutters. "That's incredible," you respond, genuinely impressed. "Although, I’m sorry about your family.

He shrugs. “Don’t be, it’s been a long time since I’ve been back home.”

The arrival of the meal serves as a delicious interruption, and the garlicky, savoury smell makes your mouth water. The risotto you chose under Sorrel's recommendation is creamy and rich, with the earthy aroma of truffles enveloping you. Sorrel's salmon is presented with an artistry that matches the taste, the fish's delicate flesh flaking at the touch of his fork.

"This is incredible," you murmur, savouring each bite, your previous apprehensions about the evening melting away with the flavors on your tongue.

Sorrel smiles, watching you with a contented gaze that makes your heart flutter. "I'm glad you're enjoying it."

You smile, delving in, beginning to forget that this isn’t a real date. As you eat, the conversation meanders from the culinary arts to travel, to the hidden corners of the world each of you dreams of exploring. He’s a traveller, like you, although he’s visited places you could never dream of.

As the main course plates are cleared away, Sorrel suggests a dessert to share, a classic tiramisu that promises to be as light as air. When it arrives, you both lean in, the spoon Sorrel hands you brushing against his, sending a spark of electricity through you. You scoop a small portion, the dessert's creamy layers dissolving instantly on your tongue, and you can't help but close your eyes in appreciation.

"Good?" Sorrel asks, his voice low and tinged with amusement.

"More than," you reply, opening your eyes to find his gaze lingering on you with an intensity that quickens your pulse.

It's easy, in the soft lighting and over the shared sweetness of dessert, to forget the nature of how this evening came to be.

It's only when the waiter discreetly presents the bill that reality nudges you back into your role. Sorrel doesn't hesitate, reaching for his wallet with a grace that belies his size.

"How would you prefer the payment?" he asks, his tone casual but with a hint of something more, perhaps a reluctance for the evening to end in such a transactional manner.

The question jolts you back to the present, a reminder of the professional boundary that, for a fleeting moment, had seemed all but erased. "A bank transfer would be fine, thank you," you manage to say, your voice steady despite the way your stomach twists.

As you stand to leave, the warmth of the restaurant's ambiance contrasts sharply with the cool detachment now settling over you. Sorrel escorts you to the exit, his presence as reassuring as it is imposing.

At the doorway, you turn to him, the night air cool on your skin. "Thank you, Sorrel, for a truly wonderful evening," you say, sincerity lacing your words.

"Thank you," he replies, and something like regret flickers in his eyes.

On impulse, you rise on your toes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. It's a small gesture, but it carries the weight of all the evening's revelations, his fur soft against your neck.

“Goodbye, Sorrel.”

“Goodbye. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

As you part ways, the night swallowing his towering figure, you're left with a warmth that no chill can dispel. The memory of the evening, of Sorrel, lingers like a sweet aftertaste, leaving you wondering just how you’re supposed to forget about him.

***

A week slips by, quieter than usual, leading you to pick up part-time shifts at a local hotel to fill the gaps. The monotony of the days contrasts sharply with the vivid memory of your evening with Sorrel, which lingers no matter how much you try to forget.

When a new request pops up on the escort site from Sorrel, your heart leaps. The anticipation, the unexpected thrill of seeing him again, infuses your routine with a newfound energy. Preparations for your meeting are made with a care and attention you hadn't realized you'd been missing.

The park chosen for your rendezvous is entirely different to the opulent restaurant of your first encounter. As the evening draws in, the tranquility of the park, with its towering trees and the soft murmur of the evening breeze, soothes your nerves.

You spot Sorrel at the agreed-upon spot, his imposing figure somehow at peace among the natural surroundings. Today, he’s wearing a more casual fitted black shirt that hugs his generous curves.

His face lights up as he sees you approach, a genuine smile spreading across his features.

"It's wonderful to see you again," he greets, his voice carrying a warmth that wraps around you like a comforting embrace.

"The feeling's mutual, Sorrel," you reply, your own smile reflecting your genuine happiness. "I wasn't sure if you'd... well, want to meet again."

"Why wouldn't I?" he asks, his tone laced with genuine confusion and a hint of amusement. "Our last evening together was more enjoyable than I've had in a long time. I've been looking forward to this all week."

Your heart flutters at his words. It’s your job, you know, to be liked - but hearing it from him sends a thrill through you.

"I'm glad,” you say. “I've thought a lot about our last, er, date."

Sorrel's gaze softens, the park's gentle evening light casting a serene glow over his features. "I've found myself doing the same. There's a simplicity in your company, a peace I've come to... crave."

The admission hangs between you. It's clear that the bond formed over that dinner has only deepened with time, but you have to wonder if this feels all a little too real.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Sorrel suggests, gesturing to the winding path that leads deeper into the park.

"I'd like that," you agree, and together, you begin to walk. You link an arm through his, enjoying how big and sturdy he is. It’s difficult to resist the urge to lean in close, soaking up the scent of his cologne.

The park around you is quiet, the occasional rustle of leaves and distant sounds of the city the only interruptions to the silence.

As you walk alongside Sorrel, the proximity and the gentle brush of his hand against yours send ripples of excitement through you. Each step seems to synchronize with the beating of your heart, a rhythm that echoes the growing closeness between you. The thrill of all surprises you, and you find yourself leaning deeper against his plush side.

The small talk that fills the air between you is comfortable, and you find yourself eagerly listening to Sorrel’s deep, rumbling voice. You chat about the park, and the mundane details of your respective weeks. Yet, beneath the surface, there's a tension, as if there’s something more floating beneath the surface.

It's Sorrel who breaks the veil of casual conversation, his voice taking on a more somber tone. "You know, I've always found myself caught between two worlds," he begins, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. "In the city, I'm too troll for most people to understand. Among my own kind, my views, my... aspirations make me an outsider. Too modern for my own kind, but too different for everybody else."

You listen, your heart aching at the vulnerability he's willing to share. The loneliness of his position between two worlds, becomes achingly clear.

"That's part of why I sought your company initially," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "I needed to feel understood, even if it was just for a moment, even if it had to be... bought."

The honesty of his admission strikes a chord within you, the professional facade crumbling further with each word.

"Now," Sorrel pauses, taking a deep breath, "my mother is ill. She's asked me to come home."

The weight of his words hangs in the air, heavy with the gravity of his decision. The silence that follows is filled with a thousand unasked questions, each one a reflection of the complexity of his situation and the depth of your concern for him.

"What will you do?" you find yourself asking, the question laden with more than professional curiosity. It's a question born of a connection that's deepened beyond expectation, a genuine concern for his well-being.

Sorrel stops walking, turning to face you. In the fading light, his expression is a mix of resolve and uncertainty, green eyes thoughtful.

"I don't know," he admits, and in that moment, the vulnerability he displays, the raw honesty of his predicament, draws you even closer.

You stay quiet, allowing him a moment to think.

Sorrel's gaze drifts away for a moment, lost in thought, as if he's trying to piece together the puzzle of his future right there in front of you. "I think I need to go back," he says finally, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of resignation. "I want to be there for her, help her heal. She's always been the anchor of our clan, and without her strength..."

He trails off, the weight of his responsibilities, of his love for his family, evident in the pause. "Once she's well, perhaps I'll return to the city. Or perhaps not. The truth is, I don't know where I truly belong."

The vulnerability in his admission, the open-ended nature of his future, pulls at something deep within you. You reach out, almost instinctively, your hand finding his. The touch is electric, and you let out a muffled sigh.

"It sounds like you've got a tough road ahead," you say, your voice soft but full of empathy. "Being there for your family, making sure your mother has everything she needs to recover... it's a beautiful thing to do, Sorrel. It speaks a lot about the kind of person you are."

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and in his eyes, you see a mixture of gratitude and something else, something deeper.

"Thank you," he whispers, and there's a warmth in his voice that wraps around you like a comforting embrace. "For understanding, for... for being here with me now."

The moment stretches between you. So does the quiet. The world around you fades into the background, leaving only the heavy thrum of your pulse in your ears.

"You should do what's best for you," you find yourself saying, your words laced with an unspoken sadness at the thought of his departure. "Your family needs you, and it's clear your heart is with them, too."

Sorrel squeezes your hand gently, a silent acknowledgment of the truth in your words. "I guess I always knew my path would lead me back home, eventually."

A twinge of disappointment tugs at your heart as the reality of Sorrel's impending departure settles in. Despite the professional boundaries you should adhere to, you can't deny the longing that has blossomed between you. Yet, beneath the layers of what-ifs, you find resignation setting in.

As you both resume walking, the conversation gently shifts, weaving through lighter topics. You admit, you’re grateful for the change of topic.

You share stories of your travels, the places Sorrel has been, places you’d love to go.

"I've always wanted to visit Thailand," you mention wistfully, the image of crystal-clear waters and verdant landscapes painting your words. "The culture, the food, the beaches... it seems like a world away from here."

Sorrel listens intently, his interest genuine. "Thailand is beautiful," he agrees, "you should go sometime."

The conversation takes an unexpected turn when Sorrel, with a look of determination, insists on paying you extra for your time. "Consider it a contribution towards your Thailand adventure," he says, his tone brooking no argument.

You hesitate, aghast at the number when you check your bank account. Three-thousand dollars. The offer touching yet tinged with the finality of a parting gift.

"Sorrel, that's too generous, I can't—"

"Please," he interrupts, his voice soft but firm. "Let this be my way of ensuring you get to experience the beauty of the world. You deserve it."

The sincerity in his eyes, coupled with the depth of gratitude you feel, crumbles your resistance. "Thank you," you say, the words barely a whisper, laden with a mix of emotions. "I'll never forget this."

You don’t know what else to say; but as it is, you don’t need to.

As you stand there, on the brink of farewell, Sorrel leans in. His kiss is unexpected but fervently returned as you stand on your toes, arms looping around his wide, plush waist. His lips are firm against yours, nipping at you with a passion that ignites a fire within you, the heat of his touch searing through the cool night air.

The kiss deepens, and for a moment, the world falls away, leaving only the two of you locked together, pulse racing.

As the kiss ends, a lingering warmth remains. You stand there, caught in the afterglow, the night air now charged with longing.

Sorrel's gaze holds yours, a myriad of unspoken words swirling in the depths of his eyes. "This... This was unexpected," he murmurs, the raw honesty in his voice mirroring the vulnerability in his gaze.

You nod, a gentle smile curving your lips despite the ache in your chest. "The best things usually are," you reply, your voice soft, laced with the bittersweet tang of parting.

There's a pause, a moment suspended in time, before you lean in for one final kiss. This one is softer,, a whisper of a goodbye in the brief touch of lips.

With a light-heartedness that feels forced, you step back and offer a playful smile. "Keep in touch, okay?" The words slip out, half in jest, half in hope, even as you understand the impossibility of the request.

Sorrel's smile is tinged with a gentle sadness, an acknowledgment of the unlikelihood of such a promise. "I'll remember this," he says, his voice a low rumble, rich with emotion. "I'll remember you."

You know, from the snippets of his life he's shared, that returning to his clan means stepping away from the world as you know it. The isolation of his people, their disconnection from the modern trappings of communication, almost brings tears to your eyes.

As you part ways, the echo of his final words lingers in your heart. The night wraps around you, and you shudder.

You hope to see him again someday. Somehow, you have the feeling that you will.

#exophilia fiction #exophilia #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster romance #monster x reader #tag: mxf #tag: male monster #tag: female reader #tag: sfw #tag: troll #tag: plus size #trying something new bc some people like present tense??#think i'll stick to past tense tbh

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yourmomxx · 6 months

Note

Hotch X plus size reader? I need some self-representation and don’t have enough energy to write myself yet.

a/n: anon, I got you! I threw in some insecurity/reassurance, because you said you wanted representation and if it’s not about that topic, I always try to angle my writing in a way that it fits for (women) of all body types and races..thank you for your request, I hope you like this!!

Aaron knew that something was wrong when you didn’t throw in commenting remarks while you were curled up by his side, you both slouching on the couch in the living room, watching The Nanny.

He didn’t say anything about it, he let you be, thought you might have just had an exhausting day at work and weren’t currently in the mood or condition to interact with anyone.

He knew those days.

Aaron knew, that if there was something obviously bothering you, you would tell him about it, you always did.

But when Cece and Niles started going at it on the TV screen, verbally slapping each other around without ever so much as raising a finger and even his mouth broke into a slight grin, and you still weren’t reacting to any of it, he wondered.

Without saying anything, Aaron reached for the remote and put the TV on mute. It was only when the continuous background noise suddenly stopped, that you looked up from where you had been intensely focused on fidgeting your fingers, and furrowed your eyebrows in question.

“Why did you turn off the sound?” You asked him, voice smaller than usual, although he was sure you thought you were great at concealing that something was bothering you.

Aaron signed and adjusted himself in-between the cushions. He made sure you stayed tucked into his side, though.

He nudged your head with his nose. “Tell me,” he murmured lowly, “what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You bit the inside of your cheek and did your best to avoid his eyes.

“I fucking hate profilers, you know that?” You grumbled. Aaron’s chest shivered as he let out a quiet laugh.

“So,” His free hand grabbed for your chin and tilted it to focus on him, his thumb slowly smoothing out your eyebrows. “Tell me. You know I will listen.”

You sighed. Honestly, there was no point in denying it anymore. You knew how your boyfriend valued the subject of communication in your relationship, and also now that he knew that something was plaguing your thoughts, there was really no way to escape.

You had really thought you’d done a good job at hiding it, that something obviously had you troubled.

But apparently not well enough for Aaron.

You always asked yourself if his job was the reason why he was able to see through your facade that easy, or if your facade was simply that easy to see through.

“Look, it’s just-“ You picked up the habit of fidgeting your fingers again, “-I know I shouldn’t even think like that, because it’s childish, and stupid, and pathetic, and -“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Aaron pulled you closer into him. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You hear me? Whatever you feel, it cannot be either of those things, because it is your feeling, and as such, it is valid. Do you understand me?”

You couldn’t do more than nod. The question of how you deserved someone as kind as him made the knot in your throat only grow tighter.

Your hands were much easier to look at than his face. You felt like a sinner confessing.

“It’s just that-“ You started, embarrassment and self-consciousness weighing heavy on your chest, “I’ve been thinking, for a while now. And when we go out, with your friends, and I see someone like Emily Prentiss, who could probably run a ten mile sprint right now if I asked her to, or JJ, who had a child and still looks like she could get hired by every second modeling agency, I-“

You blinked away tears, but even though the hot fluids didn’t run down your cheeks, the way your voice trembled and broke was enough evidence that they were there.

“And when I’m alone with my mind at night, or literally any time, I start to think about it, and I think, I never could be them. And I ask myself, why would you be here, and why would you stay with me, with someone like me, if you had women like them as an option? And I know that’s not fair to you, but even everytime I watch TV, I am reminded that I am not one of those stereotypically pretty women, and it just messes with me so, so much.”

Now, the tears were flowing. Big, salty drops were trickling down your cheeks, taking chunks of mascara down with them.

You didn’t care in that moment.

Aaron just held you closer.

It felt good, to cry, for the first time in a long time. It was cliché, but it felt relieving.

Aaron waited. He was good at doing that, and you appreciated it.

It took a short while for your sniffles to die down, and for you to shakily accept the tissue that your boyfriend was handing you, but you managed.

Aaron brushed a stray tear off your cheek and pressed a barely there kiss on the top of your head.

“Are you ready to listen to me, sweetheart?” He asked.

You took a deep breath.

“Because if you want to continue making points on how Hollywood makes biased casting choices, then I’m fine with that, too.”

You couldn’t help the shaky chuckle escaping your throat at his words.

When you didn’t make a move to say anything, your boyfriend slowly pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and let his thumb trace soft patterns on where it rested on your shoulder.

"I want to reassure you that there is nothing, and I mean nothing, that you have to worry about. Not when it comes to your appearance, my co-workers, women I see on the street, or, most importantly, my feelings for you."

You opened your mouth, but Aaron forestalled you.

"I know that you didn't mean to tell me you doubted me, but I want to tell you anyways. Y/N, what I want is to grow old with you. To spend every last minute of my day coming home to you, having you in my arms. Looks wither, and therefore would never be the reason for me to fall in love with you or perceive you as beautiful merely on them."

“Yes, but the way someone looks is the first way one notices about them, if they want to or not!”

Aaron shook his head.

“No, the first thing I noticed about you was that you ran into me and spilled brewing hot coffee all over my suit,” Aaron corrected you. “And then continued to pay the bill for my coffee for a whole month after that, even though I told you it was fine.”

You dipped your head in thought. It’s true, you had done that. Every time you’d come into the small coffee shop, the barista had already known to bill your coffee, and Aaron’s on top of it.

Until someday, you both walked in at the same time, together.

“Do you hear me?” Aaron continued, “I don’t mean to invalidate the way you feel, but I want you to understand, that, from me, you have nothing to worry about. Because, after a long day, or days, of work with Prentiss, and with JJ, it is you I come home to, and happily so. It is you who I will get down on my knee for at a beautiful, private beach on a day when it’s neither to warm nor to cold, because I know it is exactly what you want. It’s you who I want to fall asleep next to, and wake up next to again, and who I would skip a day of work for just so I could stay longer in bed with you. And I know I said looks don't matter to me, because don't get me wrong, they don't, but you are singlehandedly the most beautiful woman I have ever come across the entire time I have spent in this world. Now maybe call me biased, because I love you so much, but I don't care. Do you understand me?”

You craned your neck the slightest bit to look him in the eye, and his hey held so much sincerity and passion - for you - that you couldn’t do anything else than believe in what he said.

You sniffled slightly and nodded as an answer to him.

“I’m afraid I need to hear you say it,” Aaron said.

Another shaky nod. “I understand.”

“Good.” Aaron leaned closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, and your muscles slumped together at the comfort and the exhaustion, and a sigh escapes from your mouth into his even as he broke away.

“Now please, come on.” Aaron stood up from the couch and rested his hand on your cheek, lips leaned in close to yours as he whispered, “Let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” Another soft kiss.

“Until you believe me.”

—

“Here’s the file about the Colorado murders you wanted me to get you.” Without knocking, David Rossi strutted into Aaron Hotchner’s office, because it’s simply what he always did.

Aaron barely raised his head to shoot him a brief thanks as he dropped a beige folder on his desk.

Rossi was almost out the door, when Hotch spoke up again and stopped him.

“Dave, do you happen to know how far our authority range reaches?”

David Rossi stopped in his tracks, one eyebrow raised suspiciously at his friend’s odd question.

“I don’t think we’ll get the President to destroy his big, red button,” He responded, “But the answer to that question really depends on what you’re asking for.”

Hotch dipped his head slowly. “Well, let’s say, maybe … Hollywood?”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x plus size reader #requested #yourmomxx

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justmystyles · 10 months

Text

Now You're In My Life - Part 9

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: you and Harry have dinner with your family.

warnings: a couple of curse words, but other than that, it's tame.

a/n: this is a very silly fluffy chapter, not going to lie. hope you enjoy it!

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @lexiecamposv @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

“Are you sure we’re not underdressed?” Harry asked, as you drove through the streets of your hometown.

You smiled over at him, squeezing his hand, which had been linked to yours for the entire ride. “Promise. My sister and I always coordinate for family dinners. We decided to use tonight as the inaugural run for our new track suits.” Your eyes travel over him, appraising his outfit. “Yours isn’t an exact match, but at least you had something on theme.”

“Yes, well I didn’t have much warning.” He joked before turning his attention back to the road.

After sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Harry brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing them softly. “I love you, girlfriend.”

Your heart fluttered as your gaze traveled to Harry. Even though you could only see his profile, the content look on his face was possibly the best sight you had ever seen. “I love you too, boyfriend.” You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to hearing him say it, but you were certain you’d never grow tired of it.

“So what exactly am I in for here?” Harry asked. “Will your dad be giving me a proper interrogation?”

“Oh,” you paused thinking it over for a minute. “I actually have no idea. I’ve, well I never…”

“Am I the first guy you’ve brought home?” He asked incredulously.

You simply shrugged in reply. “Right there, take a right,” you change the subject, pointing out your parent’s driveway.

Harry pulled in, putting the car in park, you tried to remove your hand from his, but he only squeezed tighter. “Hey,” he tugged your arm gently, you looked up at him in response. “This is kind of a big deal, being the first guy you bring home to your parents. I want you to know that I don’t take that lightly.”

“Yeah, well you didn’t give me much of a choice. You kind of invited yourself.” You say, trying to lighten the moment.

Harry smirked and shook his head. “Fine, get out of the car. I’ll come back for you in a couple of hours.”

“No way, Jose. You RSVP’d, no turning back now.”

Harry’s expression sombered as he leaned in, resting his hand on the side of your neck, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Don’t wanna turn back. Only forward, only with you.” He loved the back and forth the two of you shared, but he was also desperate for you to be more open and vulnerable with him. He had gotten a taste of it earlier in the day, and he wanted more.

Overwhelmed by his sincerity, you surged forward, pressing your lips against his, deepening the kiss immediately. You lingered like that before Harry pulled back with a chuckle. “Let’s put a pin in that for later, princess. Don’t know that meeting your parents half hard would make the best first impression.”

“Valid.” You giggled, kissing him on the nose before reaching to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“And don’t you dare touch that door young lady,” he chastised.

“I know, I know. Always a gentleman.” You sighed sarcastically.

Harry comes around, opening your door and helping you out of the car. Your eyes immediately travel to the front window, you see your parent’s faces quickly disappear behind the curtain. You laugh to yourself, you know your family too well.

You turn the doorknob, stepping into the split level ranch home you grew up in, an instant wave of nostalgia and comfort washing over you. You can see your dad straight ahead in the kitchen, putting together a cheese plate, you glance to the right, your mother sitting on the couch. You couldn’t see her fully with the Christmas tree in the way, but you were sure she was trying to act nonchalant as if you didn’t just catch her gawking at you through the window.

At the top of the stairs, your family dog is waiting for you, tail wagging uncontrollably. “My sweet little Dubby, my favorite family member.”

“Heard that,” your mother shouted.

“You were supposed to.” You snap back.

Harry chuckles at the exchange. You stop halfway up the stairs so that you are eye to eye with the dog, you cradle her face in your hands, speaking in baby talk to her.

“Um… love, are you sure she’s not going to bite you in the face?” Harry asks, a little unnerved at the Dalmatian’s teeth on full display.

You look at him with a furrowed brow before turning your attention back to Dubby. “Oh no no no, she’s smiling! She smiles at me every time I come home!”

Harry nods and approaches the dog cautiously, still not fully convinced. He holds his hand out, she gives it a quick sniff before licking it and placing her head underneath, encouraging him to give her pets which he eagerly takes her up on.

“See, you’re in.” You pat him on the back before continuing up the stairs, entering the main living space, Harry following behind.

“I’m here,” you announce. “I see Mel’s late as usual.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Your dad comes out from the kitchen, wrapping you in a hug. “Not yet, we told her to be here later.”

“We wanted to meet your guest first.” Your mother continues as she steps up to you.

“Oh, that was actually kind of a genius move.” You nod your head in approval before hugging your mother. When you step out of the embrace, you take a deep breath before linking hands with Harry. “So, mom, dad, this is my boyfriend, Harry.” You feel yourself blush slightly. It was the first time you got to introduce him as your boyfriend, and it just felt right.

Harry squeezed your hand gently, also loving the feeling of hearing you claim him like that, before letting go to greet your parents. “Mister and misses Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure.” He reaches out, shaking each of their hands.

“Please,” your mother waves off his formalities. “David and Tina.”

Harry nods in understanding as your parents lead you both to the couch. You take a seat and Harry sits down beside you, taking your hand instantly.

“Drinks?” Your father offers.

“Water, please.” You say with a smile.

“I’ll take the same.” Harry says. Your father nods and retreats to the kitchen. As your mother takes a seat in an adjacent armchair.

“So, I must admit,” she begins. “You’re definitely much more normal looking than we expected.”

Your free hand immediately flies to your face. “Starting out strong.” You mumble. Harry chuckles and leans into you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m just saying,” your mother holds her hands up defensively. “We’ve never seen any of the guys you’ve dated. We just assumed they were those dirty boys with long hair and tattoos all over the place. Boys who call themselves musicians.” She uses air quotes around the word musicians.

You and Harry exchange a look, trying not to laugh. She was practically describing him now, and definitely describing him a couple of years ago.

“So Harry, what do you do for a living?” Your dad asks as he returns with a tray of drinks, placing them down on the coffee table in front of you.

A single bark of laughter escapes you. You turn to face Harry with an arched brow, waiting with baited breath for his answer.

“Well, I have my hand in quite a few things actually, I own a couple of busin–”

“No no no,” you interrupt him. “Not all the side hustles, your actual job. And maybe you should take your jacket off while you tell them.”

He narrows his eyes playfully at you. He knew once they understood what he did and who he was, it would be different. But he didn’t want to just come out and say he was a multi platinum recording artist.

The conversation was mercifully interrupted by the opening of the front door. “You guys always complain that I’m late, so look at me showing up early.” Your sister announces as she comes up the stairs, greeting the dog on her way by. She freezes in her tracks when she sees you and Harry sitting on the couch. “Why the fuck is Harry Styles in our house?”

“Wait, why does that name sound familiar?” Your mother asks.

“Because he’s like one of the most famous singers in the world,” your sister replies. “He was in that band, One Direction. You know? The poster on my wall?”

You smirk, reminding yourself to thank your sister for the perfect setup. “Yeah, you know he’s the musician on the poster with long hair and tattoos?”

Your parents’ faces turn beet red at the revelation. “I’m very sorry, Harry. We didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s fine. Really.” He assures your parents. “You just want the best for your daughter. I want the best for her too.” He turns to you and smiles. “Though, perhaps I went for the wrong sister if she’s the one with the poster of me.” He chuckled, standing to shake your sister’s hand.

“Nope, you got the right one.” Your sister assured him. “You’d be barking up the wrong tree here.” You and your parents laugh, your sister has always been particularly blunt.

Harry nods in understanding as you stand, greeting your sister with a hug.

“This explains why you were so distracted when I called the other night.” Your sister observed.”Watermelon sugar, am I right?.” She winked and nudged you with an elbow making you and Harry giggle.

“What does that mean?” Your parents ask simultaneously. The three of you freeze, your eyes went wide, head snapping over to see Harry blushing. Your sister slaps her hand over her mouth.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” You say quickly.

Your mother sighs. “You never want to explain anything to us. We’re not young and cool, we don’t just know things.”

“I am not explaining what it means.” You shoot daggers at your sister, silently cursing her for bringing it up.

“Oh,” a moment of realization washes over your mother. “It’s a sex thing, isn’t it?”

“JESUS!” You shout, covering your face in your hands. You spread your index and middle fingers slightly so that you can see Harry, whose face is a deep crimson from embarrassment.

“Nevermind, I don’t want to know anymore!” Your father throws his hand up in defeat and walks back into the kitchen.

You take a deep breath, sinking back into the couch. “This is going great.”

Harry plops down beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. “It’s alright princess, I think things are going just fine.” He kisses the top of your head.

Your dad returns from the kitchen, handing your sister a drink. “Let’s all just start over,” he suggests. “Harry, how did you end up in the music biz?”

You drop your gaze, shaking your head in embarrassment at your dad trying to sound cool. Harry laughs again, patting your thigh softly. “Well, I auditioned for this show X Factor when I was sixteen.”

“Oh, Y/N and I used to watch that all the time!”

“You did?!” Harry says surprised, looking over at you in shock.

“Absolutely, it was appointment television for us. I loved listening to Y/N’s thoughts on the singers, she always knew what she was talking about. She has a good ear for music.” She smiled proudly at you. “Can’t sing for the life of her, but she has a good ear.”

“And that’s why you’ll never hear me sing.” You say to Harry, before turning your attention to your mother. “He wasn’t on the one we watched though, he was on the UK one.”

“No, we performed on the American one. A couple of times, actually.” He looks at you with a cocky grin. “Little miss ‘I never paid attention to One Direction’.”

“I obviously wasn’t paying attention if I don’t remember it happening.” You wink at him before turning back to your father. “What’s for dinner anyway? I didn’t smell anything when I came in.”

As your father begins to explain that he called for pizza, listing off the different things he ordered, Harry leans in closely, speaking low enough for only you to hear. “You’ll be paying for that comment later, missy.” He warned as he playfully pinched your side.

Despite the awkward start to the evening, things started to simmer down. Harry was getting along great with your family. You didn’t doubt he would for a second. Your dad and Harry seemed to be in a spirited competition to see who could tell the worst joke. You, your mother and your sister were the true losers of that battle.

After dinner, everyone retired back to the living room except for your dad who made a stop off in the kitchen to light the candles and bring out your birthday cake. He lowered the lights and entered the room as your family and Harry sang happy birthday to you. You looked around the room, unable to contain your smile. You were glad you had never brought a guy home before. None of them would have fit in even half as well as Harry had.

You looked over to him, he was singing with that wide, dimpled grin that you loved so much. You were so overwhelmed in that moment that you felt tears start to prick your eyes. Harry’s brow rounded in concern, you gave him a reassuring smile and thumbs up as the song ended. You turned back to the cake, blowing out the candles as the people closest to you in the world cheered for you.

Once the flames were out, Harry pulled you close, placing a kiss on the top of your head and murmuring I love yous into your hair. Your family watched on fondly. They had never seen you so happy, and they were grateful for the boy that had permanently engraved the smile on your face.

As you were sitting around enjoying your cake, your sister excused herself to the basement. She returned soon after with a familiar box. Your eyes went wide.

“Nope, no way, not happening.” You protested. Your parents laughed as Harry looked on trying to understand what was going on.

“Absolutely! We always watch home movies and go through old pictures on birthdays.”

“But this is different, I have a guest with me.” Your tone was pleading. You weren’t ready to be embarrassed on that level in front of Harry. Not yet.

“Why don’t we leave it up to our guest?” Your mother suggested.

Everyone looked at Harry expectantly, while his eyes locked on you. He grins, eyes never leaving yours as he answers. “I would love to see all of it.”

You cover your face with your hands and groan with defeat. He chuckles, grabbing your wrists and pulling them down as your sister sets up the videos. He leans in and places a kiss on your cheek. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your revenge when I bring you home to meet Mum and Gemma. I promise.”

Your exasperated frown quickly became a smile. Everything had happened so quickly with Harry, that you hadn’t thought about going home with him to meet his family. But he clearly had. You got butterflies in your stomach knowing that he was excited for that to happen.

You were pulled out of the moment by the sound of the television, you looked up to see your three year old self toddling through a petting zoo. “Oh man, you’re really going to start with this one?” You bury your face into Harry’s shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you, his eyes locked on the screen.

As the video continues you work your way around, pointing out animals to your mother who is holding the camera. For some reason, you considered every sheep and goat to be a cow, and informed your parents of that. As you approached one particular ‘cow’ it had its head down, eating some pellets. You bent over, likely to place a kiss on the top of its head, as you often did with your dog and cats at home, when it abruptly lifted its head, a horn butting you right in the nose.

The room bursts into laughter, Harry included. He turns to face you, seeing that you’re trying to suppress your own laughter while giving him a faux stern look. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss to your pouted lips.

The videos continued, and you knew what was happening. Because it was your birthday, and you had brought a guest, you were the main focus of the selections. There were more embarrassing moments, like the time you rocked too hard on a rocking horse and ended up falling off backwards, but there were also nice memories as well. Dance recitals, school plays, birthday parties and more.

A video played from Christmas day when you were roughly eleven years old, the whole family was gathered at your grandparents house, and the camera panned around, getting shots of everyone. When they panned into the den, they found you teaching your grandmother the Macerena. You had recently learned it at your friend’s birthday, and you always loved showing your grandmother the cool new things. And she loved learning them from you.

You watched on, subconsciously shifting, rubbing the tattoo on your left wrist. The tattoo you got for her. You feel Harry nudge you, and you look over to him, tears pooling in your eyes. It had been nine years since you lost her, but there wasn’t a day that went by where you didn’t think of her. There were so many moments in your life you wished you could have told her about, had her there for. So many things you felt like you still needed to learn from her. Harry cupped your cheek, brushing away a stray tear. He looked at you with a question in his eyes, mouthing the words ‘you okay?’ You nodded in response and sniffled, composing yourself before turning back to the screen.

“Are you going to the cemetery tomorrow?” Your mother asks.

You freeze, you had been so caught up in the bubble you had created with Harry over the last few days that you didn’t realize that the anniversary of her passing was the following day. “Oh, I didn’t think about it. I mean Harry’s only in town for a few days. Maybe I could go aft–”

“I don’t mind,” he interrupts. “I’ll go with you if you’d like.”

“Yeah?” You look at him in question, he nods. “I would probably want to pick up my grandfather first, he’ll want to go.”

“Excellent, I can’t wait to meet him.” Harry assures you.

“Okay then,” you say, turning back to your mother. “I guess I am.” You pause, looking back over to Harry and taking his hand. “I mean, we are.”

Your parents watched the two of you fondly. They had always been concerned about the kinds of guys you were seeing, especially since you barely talked about them and never brought them around. But seeing you and Harry, how affectionate he was with you, how tender and kind, they knew that he was exactly what they had always wanted for you.

The night went on a bit longer, you watched a few more movies and went through some pictures. As you were talking and reminiscing with your family, Harry listened with the utmost attention. He meant it when he said he wanted to know everything about you, and this whole night had been an amazing step in the right direction.

At one point, when it came up that your parents had left your bedroom exactly as it was when you left for college, Harry insisted on seeing it. You took his hand, leading him down the hall to the last door on the right.

“That door stays open, young lady!” Your mother shouted from down the hall. “No watermelon sugar!”

“Moooommmmmm gross!” You hear your sister groan

You froze in your tracks, pinching the bridge of your nose. Harry chuckles, leaning down to kiss you on the cheek. You open the door and step through. “Here it is.”

Harry’s eyes sweep the area, taking in every detail. The walls are a pastel green, yellow and white gingham curtains match the sheets on the double bed. He runs his hand along the ornate carvings of the cream and gold headboard, and notices the matching desk and dresser. It’s definitely not the room he pictured for you, until he focuses on the wall decor.

The first thing that catches his eye are the black angel wings hanging over the window, he then notices the posters, loaded with images of the kinds of guys your parents expected you to bring home. “It is definitely you. Perfectly punk rock princess.”

“Yeah, well we did the full ‘big girl’ redesign when I was 12, and then my tastes changed, but my family’s budget didn’t, so we just added on.” You shrug.

“I love it, really.” He assures you. “It’s like your beautiful brain exploded in here, it’s a little bit of everything I love about you.” He places his hands on your hips, you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck.

“You know,” you say coyly. “You’re the first boy I’ve ever had in my room.”

He arched a brow, and smirked. “Really?” You hummed in reply, and he pulled you closer, dropping his lips to yours, deepening the kiss instantly.

You pull back, slapping his chest playfully. “Harry, my parents are right out there.”

“Mmm,” he begins trailing kisses down your neck. “Now tell me we should be studying for the big test on Friday.”

You burst out laughing, pushing out of his embrace. “You’re so fucking weird.”

“You love it.”

“Very much,” you look up at him, your expression softening.

He links your fingers with his, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “C’mon, let’s go home.”

You nod in agreement, leading him out of your room. You both say your goodbyes to your family, Harry thanking your parents for their hospitality and promising to come back to see them next time he’s in town. You and your sister agree to get together soon.

“I think they really liked you,” you tell Harry in the car on the way home.

“I really liked them,” he smiles. “Definitely felt like a part of the family.”

“Good,” you squeeze his hand.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for the rest of the ride home. You can’t help but let your mind drift off, thinking about how someday he may actually be your family. You know it’s way too early to be thinking like that, but you can’t and won’t stop yourself. You’re in love, and you don’t expect that to change any time soon.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x plus size reader #harry styles headcanon #harry styles meet cute #harry styles fluff #harry's house #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry edward styles #harry style imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #love on tour #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic

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bimbodoggie · 1 year

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ONE NIGHT • toji fushiguro ! blk bimbo plus sized reader

Here you were in Toji’s bed, folded in half while he fucked into you. “Let me make you a mommy yeah?” he rasped into your ear groping every place of your body, he left no crevice untouched.

contents: 19+ content mating press, groping, toji being a pervert, cheating (but from gojo), age gap (reader is in their early twenties and toji late thirties), doggystyle, toji sticks a thumb where it shouldn’t be, reader is an airhead, mentions of reader breaking up with Gojo, This isn’t proof read and this is my first fic on here so bare with me pls :)

You decided today was the day to get out of bed after your break up with your ex Gojo Satoru, you found out during his free time he was going to trips to meet up with different women, if it wasn’t for you using the leftover brain cells in your brain you would’ve been oblivious. The day finally came when you finally confronted him, and he did what any other man does when he’s caught….cry, throw a tantrum like a toddler who’s mother simply said no. It took all of your strength not to show him how the situation really made you feel.

“Get out” you sternly told him, only giving the things he came to your apartment with, the rest of the things were gifts you gave him that obviously he didn’t deserve. The only thing that separated you two now was the door which you slammed in his face making yourself jump. “It’s not like I’m unattractive and can’t find another boytoy” you thought to yourself redownloading tinder and looking at all of the messages that basically collected dust in your inbox while you were with Gojo.

One match in particular caught your eye, Toji Fushiguro’s an older man with a scar that decorated the top and bottom of his lip, emerald green eyes, black hair, matched with a black shirt that almost ripped because of how muscular he looked. Apparently you caught Toji’s eye first because he sent a message. I would kill to have a girl like you on my arm, what do you say doll? You looked at the message over and over until you replied. Ever since then you two were texting back and forth.

It wasn’t until later in the day he asked if you wanted to go out to dinner and go back to his apartment, you then agreed. You spent probably an hour scrambling for the most curve-hugging, neck breaking, outfit. After walking into the restaurant, you frantically looked around for the man that matched his Tinder profile, you then was greeted by a “are you Y/N?” a voice boomed in your ear making you gasp.

There he was, you stood face to face to the man you spent hours flirting with via text. You looked him with your big brown doe eyes and nodded, he then led the way to where his seat was. “Its finally nice to see a face with these texts” he says getting comfortable inside of the booth, you played with the hem of your skirt not knowing what to say. For the next hour you two exchanged laughs and found out you two had more in common than you thought.

After Toji paid the bill he led you to where his car was parked, it was an old school sports car, considering you not knowing shit about cars you just complimented the car and got in. Toji was a pure gentleman, he opened the car door for you, and led the way to his apartment. It was minimalistic but nice, you can tell a man resided in the lonely apartment the way the energy felt. “Make yourself at home” he says walking to the kitchen to wash his hands.

You sat down on the couch which faced the television, it was black with a velvet touch, very soft and plush, like yourself. Toji brought over two glasses of chilled white wine and put on a movie. You weren’t sure if it was the wine but you felt an ache in your cunt making you shift your thighs together, your action puzzled Toji giving you a nonverbal “are you ok?” look without saying it. You nodded and quickly looked away because of the embarrassment you felt creeping up on you. His long arm stretched and made its way to your body constricting you like a snake squeezing its prey.

You blushed and bit your bottom lip, of course you had zero thoughts in your head to think Toji was trying to get you into his bed. He rubbed his thumb against your bottom lip making you look away once more in embarrassment. “I meant what I said doll” Toji purrs leaning in to kiss you. Your eyes widen with shock as your tongues battled each other to see who will win in a war for dominance, by default Toji won. You pulled away wiping leftover saliva from your lip.

You began to straddle Toji, you two continued to kiss until he started undressing you, layer by layer as if you were an onion, he didn’t stop until you were the one who was fully nude making you blush uncontrollably. Toji started groping you from your breast to your ass, he breathed in your scent like he was a hound dog searching for a prey. “Please” you whimpered under his touch. Toji proceeded to pick you up and gently laid you on the bed.

He slowly started to strip himself of his clothes so you were able to take a mental photograph of his physique, the way his pectorals flexed when he took his shirt off, or the way his thighs looked, so ride able…and he was yours for this night. Toji climbed on top of you grinding his hard on onto your cunt. He hissed at the tightness of how he felt, his cock needed to be freed. The last thing to go was his boxers, you saw how angry his cock looked and how pre-cum covered his slit. “On your knees” he directs getting off of the bed..you obeyed and took Toji in your mouth, he was losing it the way your glossed lips felt against his shaft. His large hands gripped your hair guiding you and taking control.

You felt him down in your throat, spit pooled from your mouth to your breast making Toji moan at the sight below him, “you’re so fucking gross you know that” he growls his pace is stuttering now, “having a filthy old pervert like me fuck your throat, I know you’re enjoying this too aren’t you whore?” he says once more slapping your face while you maintained eye contact. He pulled you off of his cock and put you on the bed making you fall face first.

Toji took a moment to really appreciate how you looked from behind, the way your hole begged to be filled, and how your ass was ready. “get ready for me baby” he says slowly inching in. You had tears of pleasure in your eyes while your manicured nails gripped the sheets, your cunt began to queef which made you feel embarrassed once more..it was as if you were keeping tally of the amount of times you felt embarrassed in one night. Toji crept over you his front meeting your back, he grabbed your hair “she’s talkin’ to me, keep squeezing around me yeah?” he whispered licking the shell of your ear. Somehow his thumb found his way onto your puckered hole making you look back at him with sad puppy eyes.

He then flipped you over to your front, he took your legs and put them over his shoulder, he started to stroke slowly, “p-please” you whimpered landing a hand on his chest, he looked you in your eyes with a deadpan stare while he sped up making the headboard thud against the wall. “TOJI” you screamed, here you were in Toji’s bed folded in half while he continued to fuck into you, “let me make you a mommy, yeah?” he rasped into your ear groping you in every place on your body, he left no crevice unturned.

Toji felt you squeeze around him, he rubbed your sensitive nub, “I know baby I know” he coos watching you unfold, you felt funny like you needed to pee? you squirted out a clear liquid while toji emptied himself inside of you.

“We’re not done yet dove, its only 8:00 pm, we have the whole night” he says scooping his cum back inside of you.

#toji x reader #toji angst #jjk smut #toji smut #toji x black reader #jujitsukaisensmut #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut

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megamindsecretlair · 10 months

Text

The God Who Stole Me

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Degrading/Praise kink, cursing, cruel language, mentions of "being worthless and nothing". Unprotected sex, PWP, PIV, fingering fem receiving, oral male receiving, domination, pet names, established relationship, sorry if I miss any others!

Summary: Set in the early days, before Thor 1, you are a mere mortal who found your way to Asgard. You and Loki understand each other in a way no one else really does. There's not much plot, just pure smut.

Word Count: 2,852k

A/N: I don't know what to say, beyond I'm a whore and feral and my hormones are out of my control. If I missed warnings, I'm really sorry. I just thought this was hot as hell. Not beta'd or proofread so all mistakes are mine. While likes are awesome, please consider commenting and reblogging to support writers!

You enter his office. You cast your eyes about looking for the man himself. He stands before a window, looking out across the realm. At your entrance, he turns his scowl on you.

You step softly on the hardwood floor and close the door behind you. “Yes?” He asks.

You rock on your heels. He’s in a nasty mood tonight. “Came to bother you, of course.” You don’t have an ounce of self-preservation around this man. There was no use pretending.

“I’m busy planning. I don’t have time for you right now,” he says. He turns his attention back to the window.

You study his profile. He wears his casual leathers, the black and green highlighting his dark hair as it fans around his face. His shoulders are hunched forward and he rubs his chin. Planning, scheming, plotting.

“Maybe I can help,” you offer.

Loki’s laugh is cruel and mocking. “Do you think me so foolish that I would accept help from you? If so, you must be a special kind of stupid.”

You only smile. “Right, right. Not like your last dozen or so schemes weren’t complete failures or anything.” You cast your eyes about the room. Your poor baby had been hard at work, pouring over mountains of paperwork.

Loki chuckles with little humor. “I am the God of Mischief, not the God of Utter Failure. Show some respect if you want to leave here alive,” he says.

“You won’t hurt me, Loki. So stop with the threats, you’re boring me,” you sing. Your long burnished orange dress swishes against the floor as you walk about, tidying up things. He hates when you do that. So you continue to do it anyway with a happy smile on your face.

“What makes you so confident that I won’t hurt you?” He asks.

“You love me too much, duh,” you say.

Loki turns away from the window and leans against the frame. He watches you with little interest. Like a cat regarding a poor offering of food. “Do not flatter yourself, little mortal. I could never love something so…insignificant,” he says.

You only laugh. “The lord doth protests too much,” you say and smirk at him.

“Stop provoking me, mortal,” he says. He narrows his eyes. His scowl deepens. Whatever it was that happened to put him in such a foul mood, you bet it had to do with Odin. Curse the All Father, he is a cruel and bitter man. A Has-Been. He heaps praise on Thor and ignores his other son.

“Use my name properly, God of Failure,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Stop being rude.”

He scoffs and stalks towards you. A thrill goes through you. Perhaps he isn’t in that bad of a mood. If he were truly fed up, he wouldn’t engage with you at all. He’d simply ignore you as if you were a fly buzzing about his head.

“I was not aware I had a reason to be nice to you.” He leans forward and looks down his nose at you. You stare at him square in the eye.

“You might hurt my feelings,” you say. You pout and give him puppy dog eyes.

“Perhaps hurting your feelings would not be the worst idea,” he said. He reachs up and strokes your cheek softly. His eyes finally soften, filled with longing and some unknowable emotion you couldn’t name.

“You’d only fail at that too,” you say. You lean into his touch.

“I’m not even trying yet.”

You smile. You back away until your legs hit his desk. You slide backwards onto it, getting as comfortable as you can. You lean back on your hands and tilt your head at him.

“Go on then, let’s hear your best attempt,” you say.

Loki takes in your prone form and his eyes darken. He smirks as he thinks. “You are just a tiny mortal, no more than an insect to me,” he says.

“A good first attempt. Give us another,” you command.

Loki's smirk grows wider. He approaches you until he crowds your space. You widen your legs and he steps between them, running his hands up and down your bare, copper skin.

“You will grow old and die, forgotten by all. You are nothing but an extra who will be left on the cutting room floor. You will fade away, no more than a whisper in the wind.”

“That’s too easy, even for you.” You grip the edge of his collar and absently play with it. His mahogany and teakwood scent float over and around you, crowding your senses. Heat casts off him in waves.

Loki scoffs. He runs the back of his fingers along your cheek. Then he rubs his thumb across your full, pouty lips. “Maybe this will work then. No man, no god, nor creature could ever love you the way you want to be loved. You are doomed to a life of eternal loneliness and misery.”

You pretend to yawn. You smack your lips and blink sleepily at him.

Loki’s answering chuckle vibrates his whole body. Standing between your legs as he is, you feel him. He trails his long fingers along the length of your neck before sliding up under your chin and lifts it.

“You will live out your days as a mere plaything, used and discarded by whoever deigns to give you their attention.”

A slow grin spreads across your face. “Are you the God of Stating the Obvious?”

“You are worthless and unlovable. Weak. Your life is pathetic,” he continues.

You give a lazy shrug. “I’m waiting for my feelings to be hurt,” you say.

“Why would anyone want you? You are not even attractive,” he says. His eyes roam over your body with a mild disgusted face. You suppress a giggle.

“Attacking my beauty is also too easy. I guess you’re not capable of hurting my feelings. The God of Utter Failure, I see.”

Loki smiles seductively, leaning down to kiss along your neck, your jaw, and the corners over your lips. “You are truly frail and breakable,” he says. He captures your lips in his. His fingers grab the hem of your dress and lift it. His hands trail up your bare legs, causing goosebumps to raise in his wake.

He pulls your legs wider, forcing you to open up further for him. You gasp and bite your lip. Your thighs tingle with anticipation.

“I’m frail and mortal and disgusting,” you say. You kiss him back, desperately. The cadence of his voice weaves a spell on your body. You react to him more strongly than before. Or perhaps it’s just him. Just your attraction to this all powerful god before you.

“You are mine,” he growls into your mouth. His hands get closer to your pussy and you moan just thinking of what he’s going to do to you.

“Even as ugly and pathetic as I am?”

“Especially as ugly and pathetic as you are.” He licks your lips and pushes his tongue inside to duel with yours. Soon, there is nothing but mashing teeth and desperate cries between you.

“Who says you deserve me?” You lean up and run your fingers through his long, black hair. Your nails graze his scalp. He shudders beneath your touch.

“Nobody else would want you. I am doing you a favor by claiming you,” he says. He leans in again and kisses you harder, nipping at your bottom lip. His fingers dig into your fleshy thighs. He will leave bruises come morning. The thought only excites you and makes your pussy throb painfully.

“A favor from the God of Failure? Don’t make me laugh,” you say.

“And yet, you are a mess before me,” he says. To emphasize his point, he runs his fingers over your damp panties. He hisses. “You’re soaked,” he coos. “You would throw yourself at anyone who gave you attention.”

“Yet I have the attention of a petty, cruel god at my feet. That’s certainly something I can get used to,” you say. You tighten your legs around his waist, needing him to get closer. To do something else. Your skin feels aflame.

“You think yourself above the God of Mischief? You are so foolish,” he says.

“I am the foolish one, yet your hands are on me. Your lips kiss my skin. What god do you serve then? Yourself? Or me?”

“I serve myself. Only my own desires matter,” he says. He finally, finally sinks his finger into you. He coos more about how soaked you are and what a pretty mess you make before him. At the moment, you care so little. You grab onto his shoulders for any type of anchor.

He adds a finger as he swiftly glides in and out of you. The sound of his pumping fingers and your wet suction drive both of you wild.

“Allow me to leave then. If I matter so little,” you somehow manage to say. You make obscene whimpers and cries as he drives your pleasure even higher. You lean forward and bite his shoulder through his clothes.

“You’ll leave when I’m done with you,” he growls. He watches your face as different emotions play out. He can see how much you want to resist. How badly you want to prove him wrong. But your body betrays you. Your hips jerk forward as it becomes too much sensation.

“I truly pity you. Nothing more than a little playtoy for anyone to use and discard.”

You whimper and bite the inside of your cheek. He leans down and nuzzles your neck.

“So, you concede that my body is desirable,” you smirk. His dark chuckle sends shivers across your skin.

“It is your only redeeming feature. Such a pity that it is wasted on someone so dull and dim-witted,” he says. He adds a third finger and you come undone in his hands. You scream out your pleasure for any passerby to hear you. Your nails dig into his nape. Loki keeps up his relentless pounding, making your legs jerk harder.

Your harsh breaths scorch your throat as you try to calm down. Loki’s fingers still and finally withdraw from you. He licks them one by one as he maintains eye contact with you.

“I have to be dimwitted to keep up with someone of your minor stature. Someone so jealous and cruel and prone to childish temper tantrums,” you say.

“I am the Son of Odin and the God of Mischief,” he says. He grabs your chin and forces you to look at him. His tone is disdainful and arrogant. “Pray, what do I have to be jealous of, mortal? You are nothing.”

“I live a full life, free from burden. You are nothing more than a lost boy begging for his father’s love,” you say.

Loki’s face morphs into a mask of pure rage. He grabs your throat and squeezes. You moan and writhe beneath him.

Loki leans down and kisses you softly, reverently. His thumb strokes your neck as his grip lessens.

“Your dense little brain cannot begin to fathom the complicated nature of gods,” he whispers against your lips. “I bet you could never dream that a god would set you free. Give in and let me take what you have desired for so long.”

“Are you not a God? Will you not take what you want?” You have no choice but to look into his piercing, crystal eyes.

“I am whatever you need me to be.”

“I wish for you to be yourself,” you say. You rub your leg against his, feeling his dick straining against his pants. “Only yourself and I shall revel in it.”

“I am myself. And what I am is yours,” he says. He says your name and smiles at you, your game momentarily forgotten.

“Who says you’ve earned me, my god?”

Loki chuckles, still caressing your neck. “You have it backwards, pet. You need to earn me.”

You grin. Finally. He moves away and pulls you to your feet. You stand on shaky legs but hold your weight. You trade places with him. You sink to your knees and unbutton his pants, freeing his cock. You lick your lips at the sight of it. It’s long and thick and a bead of precum leaks out from the tip.

He watches you and plays with your hair. “Oh, my little pet is bold. What a good girl,” he says.

The unexpected praise makes you sigh. He looks down at you with adoration and lust as you pump his cock. You take him into your mouth and he shivers. A low moan escapes him as you work him deeper and deeper. Your sloppy sucking is loud in your ears. He grips your hair tighter and soon, he’s fucking your mouth. You take it all, gagging on him. You can barely breathe as he pumps into you, his salty cum dripping with abandon.

“That’s my good fucking pet. You want all of it, don’t you?” He says. You can only whimper as he continues to pump into you.

You use your hands and your mouth to drive him wild. You fondle his balls as you suck greedily. “Oh, sweet mortals and their tricks…”

You think he’s about to climax but he roughly pulls out of your mouth. He lifts you, kissing you, tasting himself on your tongue. He sucks on your bottom lip as he trades places with you once more. His eyes are on fire, burning into you with a near animalistic rage. He bends you over his desk, your ass jiggling and like putty in his hands.

He drags up the hem of your dress and is too focused on getting to you that he has no time to pull down your panties. He pulls it to the side and slams into you. You both moan from the sheer sensation of him filling you up completely. He stretches you out. A lifetime with him would never prepare you for his size.

He leans over you and licks the shell of your ear. “I will have you, pet,” he whispers, which is a direct contrast from his rough fucking. Your pussy clenches around his dick and he groans.

“Nothing in this world can satisfy me quite like your needy little pussy,” he says. He pounds relentlessly into you. His balls slap your clit from the force of his strokes. He pushes your head down until your upper body is flat on the desk.

With one hand on your lower back, his other hand grips your thick hips. His grip is punishing. You feel his devotion in every slide, every squeeze, every spent breath. It heightens your own pleasure. That he needs you this much, craves you this much. “You are mine,” he says, thrusting with each word. “Vow it.”

“I vow it. I’m yours. I’m only yours,” you say. He’s hitting a spot so deep inside you, it’s like he’s writing his name. He’s marking you and staking his claim in the most brutal way.

“Mine forever? Are you such a good girl to admit it?”

“Forever. Always and forever yours,” you moan. Pressure builds painfully in your lower tummy. Your hands roam across his desk looking for anything to keep you tethered to your body. It’s like he’s trying to fuck the soul out of you. You grip the edge of his desk pathetically. Nothing but him can keep you tied down.

You can hear the smile in his voice. “My pet…my lover…my everything,” he says and explodes inside you. A second later, you release your own orgasm. Dark spots wink in and out of your vision as pleasure courses through you. Loki makes a deep satisfied grunt as you cum all over him.

You shake and he rubs his hands down your thighs, your hips, your sides, and your arms. He whispers incoherent things into your ear.

When you’ve finally calmed down, you shiver from the breeze coming through the open window. Loki withdraws from you. You share a moan. But the ache he leaves behind is nearly unbearable. You cry from it.

Your combined ragged breaths are the only sound in the room as he pulls you to him. He carries the bulk of your weight to the couch where he settles you. He fixes his pants and then sits beside you, conjuring a blanket to wrap around you. He waves his hand and a fire ignites in his fireplace.

“Oh, my love. Thank you. I would rather beg at your feet than bend my knee to any other. The only one I wish to serve is you,” he says. He peppers your face with soft kisses.

“You bow to no one, my god,” you say sleepily. You are wrecked and as you grow warm, you grow sleepy.

“I bow to you. I worship you,” he says. He kisses your forehead.

You have just enough energy to look at him. He gazes lovingly at you. You may not have forever with him, but you certainly have now and all the little moments until then.

If you need more Loki in your life, great news! The Secret Loki Files

#marvel smut #megaminds secret files #fanfic #loki #loki x Black reader #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki fan fic #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #loki odinson #The Secret Loki Files #Loki x Black!reader #Loki x Fem!reader #Loki x Fem reader #Loki x you #x Black reader

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imarvelatthestars · 1 year

Text

Six

Pairings: Wrecker x f!Reader

Warnings: just cuteness, thigh grinding, and a little intelligence/competence kink maybe; references to sex; reader wears glasses and is plus sized coded, but it's not explicit

Notes: At this point, I'm sure no one is surprised I have more Wrecker content. Was this a blatant self insert? Yes. Hush.

Like most clones, at least the ones that are interested in this sort of thing, Wrecker isn't sure what to do when faced with a pretty girl. And the galaxy has loads of them - tall and muscular, short and round, stick thin and broad shouldered and round ankles, and he loves them all. He even likes some of the non-human ones, the ones with pretty purple skin or patterned lekku. So when he sees you for the first time, his reaction is about the same as it usually is.

His breath stutters, his legs tense up and his chest gets tight, his hands go clammy under the gloves, and his heart goes pounding right out of his chest. He knows Hunter can sense it all, but he usually doesn't tease him about it other than a smile and an elbow to the ribs. The rest of the team are thankfully fixated on something else, Tech on his pad while Crosshair and Echo discuss something. It's all nonsense to him, really, because all he can focus on is you.

Your spectacles are the first things he notices. They're not goggles like Tech's, but actual spectacles with transparisteel lenses; he can tell by the way they catch the late afternoon sunlight and refract it across your cheeks. Then he notices your profile, the slope of your nose as it bends to your lips and chin. There's a softness to you, something in your cheeks or your mouth, your shoulders and arms perhaps, or maybe it's the way you've furrowed your brows? He can't put his finger on it. All he knows is that you're disarmingly cute.

The relaxed expression you're sporting suddenly shifts and your entire body moves in response until you're sitting at attention, scrambling about you for something. It takes him a moment to realize that you're writing.

He reacts without thinking. "Hey, Tech." His hand smacks against his brother's shoulder pad and there's a quiet huff of irritation immediately following. "I thought writin' on paper didn't exist anymore."

Tech looks thoroughly unimpressed. "It is an outdated method of preserving information, I'll admit, and much less efficient than any contemporary technologies, but it is still a viable-"

"Well, then why's she usin' it if it's so outdated?"

Four heads go swiveling your direction, following the vague direction of Wrecker's outstretched arm. And suddenly he remembers just how loud he can be, how far his voice carries, because you're suddenly looking up. At him. You're looking at him. Kriff.

He's embarrassed you, he can see it in your eyes, the line between your brows, the way the corners of your mouth have turned down. Double kriff. Shit fuck kriffing stars above, why is he such an idiot? He can hear Echo lightly chastising him and Hunter sighing, but mostly he can hear the blood rushing in his ears because you look so uncomfortable and he feels like such a fool. He was only curious.

"Really living up to your name, aren't you?"

Wrecker turns and glares. "Shut it, Crosshair."

But his brother simply smiles. "You're just mad you scared her off."

"Did not!"

Crosshair points back in your direction with a lift of his chin and sure enough, you're gathering your things under your arm and starting to rise from your seat. Something in the back of his mind screams no! because you looked so perfect sitting there, so pretty with the sun behind you and your spectacles all shiny. You looked interesting, sweet, soft, smart, all until he opened his big mouth.

His entire body wilts. He probably wouldn't have approached you in the first place, but now he definitely can't and it makes him sad.

"I believe you embarrassed her."

"I know," he sighs.

"You probably should not have said that."

If ever there was a time he wished Tech came with an off button, it's now. "Yeah, I know!"

"Lads, lads!" Hunter's voice cuts through it all with the practiced patience of a sergeant. "Settle down. Now's not the time."

Wrecker is still watching you leave and feeling all the while like a kicked massiff.

"Echo, Tech, you two head back to the ship and get it ready. Crosshair, with me. And Wrecker?" Hunter's hand claps on the curve of his pauldron. "You still have a mission to finish."

That has him frowning even more. "I-I do?"

"I believe you have an apology to make. And a comm number to retrieve. Now get going, soldier."

By all rights, you should get along with Tech the most and while the two of you do have plenty in common, you seem to like Wrecker the most. He tries not to brag about it.

And by all those same rights, he shouldn't like you as much as he does. Because you remind him a bit of his brother with the spectacles and intellectual tendencies, but that's where the similarities stop. You're so much kinder, so thoughtful and curious. And you're funny, much funnier than Tech's ever been on purpose.

He likes that you're smart. You love history and other cultures, learning about their art and their religions and all the little intricacies that build up their traditions, and you love sharing them. You love libraries and outdated things like paper and ink and handmade fabrics. He loves that you're not like anyone he's ever known.

You're so soft, he's not sure he'll ever be over it. You have your rough spots, of course - the callouses on your fingers from so many years spent writing things out by hand, the ones on your feet from a lifetime of travel, the dry patches on your elbows - but you are made mostly of gentle curves and swells and dips, even in the most angular lines of your bones. He holds onto the side of your thigh now as you rut against him, marvels at the strength of your muscles beneath all that softness.

"Keep goin', mesh'la," he grunts.

Your voice trembles when you try to speak again. "I can't."

Wrecker shudders as your hot breath fans out across his face. "Go on." Every molecule and atom in his body is straining against his skin, desperate for release, for the pleasure of your mind and body to sing out for him. "Wanna hear you."

When you start to protest again, both his hands suddenly settle on your hips and grind you down on his thigh, and your resounding yelp only serves to egg him on even more.

"Tell me, smart girl. Can't..." White hot arousal shoots up the entire length of his body when one of your knees rubs into his crotch. "Uh, can't let you come 'til you finish tellin' me."

It takes you a long second. You're fighting with yourself, trying to struggle through the fog of pleasure to find the words, and he knows he's not making it any easier for you. But he has to hear you.

"It's... it's because they're from the same, fuck, same linguistic ancestor."

He can't help grinning. "Yeah?"

Your head bobs. "Uh huh." You're mewling by now, whining, all but begging for him to let you come, to touch you where you need it most, to fuck you properly, but he knows you know that won't happen just yet. "I think they split off a couple, couple centuries before the mass emigration, fuck, right there."

He'll never be over how smart you are, either. Never. You're not as smart as Tech, probably no one is, but you're brilliant in your own right and dammit it all if that isn't the sexiest thing about you.

"The numbers," he pants, simultaneously grinding your crotch down onto his leg while bucking his against your knee. "You said somethin' about the numbers. I-I don't-"

Now you're smiling. "That's how you know they share a linguistic ancestor, baby." And Maker, your voice. "Every, every single dialect and language in the tree has the same word for six. Almost, mm, no fluctuation in pronunciation or spelling."

Oh? Wrecker can feel his ears perk up. There's something about that number that he likes. "What's it called?"

You swallow hard as your chest rises and falls. "O-Ono. It's ono."

Warmth bubbles up in the pit of his stomach. He leans into you, puts a hand on the back of your neck to draw you on top of his chest, and sucks on your earlobe for a second. "I think that's how many times I'm gonna make you come. Ono."

The sound you make is utterly profane.

"You like that, pretty girl?"

A shudder ripples up your spine and you all but collapse. Wrecker spreads his big hands out over your shoulder blades, down your back, under the swell of your ass, and he teases his fingertips along the seam of your underthings.

"Please," you whimper into his neck.

Yeah. He thinks you like that a lot. You'll like it even more once he has your legs over his shoulders and his tongue buried in your slick.

#wrecker x reader #wrecker x you #tbb wrecker x reader #tbb wrecker x you #wrecker #tbb wrecker #star wars #my beloved husband #this week's out of context linguistics lesson inspired by the fact that i cannot shut up about the polynesian language family #and i think wrecker would like a smart girl who makes him laugh and dazzles him with her special interests

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wordynerdygurl · 1 year

Text

A Little Tied Up

Author’s Note: Had an idea, ran with it! I’m participating in NaNoWriMo but couldn’t stop myself from getting this ditty out. It is a little rough because of this but I hope you enjoy! Pairing: Eddie Munson x Plus Size Female Reader Summary: Eddie’s got an idea, an awful idea. A terrible, wonderful, awful idea... and you’re all too happy to play along! Warnings: Restraints used in a committed relationship, SMUT, orgasm denial and SMUT.

It hadn’t taken much convincing. Eddie simply asks you, plainly, one morning while you’re sipping tea, reading through The Mists of Avalon and he’s noodling out a melody on his guitar, “You trust me, don’t cha?”

Marking your place by folding down the corner, you look up into the impossibly precious face of your devoted boyfriend, “Um, yea. ‘Course I do, baby. But-” gently sipping from your mug, you smile his way, “-What makes you ask?” His tongue pokes through those pretty pouty lips before Eddie’s wild grin breaks across his face, his eyebrows lifting under his curly bangs, “I have an idea.” Raising your own eyebrows questioningly, you offer an encouraging smile, “Oh yea?” Placing his guitar down gently, Eddie threads his fingers through yours, kissing over the bend in your knuckles as he tugs you closer. The cut neck of your sweatshirt is draping dangerously low and he can’t help but nip his teeth into the roundness of your shoulder, his nose in the crease of your neck, “Yea.” Brushing your hair back he bites into his bottom lip, clearly contemplating how much of his vision to share. Tipping your chin up, you nudge him, “You gonna tell me or should I try and guess?” “Well, the kids are coming over for my campaign and, and I kinda want you to stick around.” Scrunching your nose, you tilt your head, not quite understanding, “I had planned on that, babe. I know I don’t play, but I wasn’t gonna just leave you here-” “No, what I mean is, I want you waiting for me. Ya know?” His expressive face is working hard to fill in the gaps but you’re still not on the same page. “Like, for sexy times?” Chuckling at your immature phrasing, Eddie looks away for a second, his profile outlined so prettily against the window’s light, “Yes. For sexy times. I just have this vision-” turning back, those chocolate eyes darkening dreamily, “-of you, wet and writhing, just aching for me to come and ravish you.” You can’t lie. The words he’s saying spark something primal deep in your guts. Something that is slippery and slick, making your belly tighten as you nod subtly, already a little dazed at the suggestion, “Uh huh.” “But no one can know you’re there, pretty baby. You’d have to be real quiet. Maybe even, ya know-” you watch his Adam’s Apple bob as he gulps thickly, “-tied up. ‘Cause I can’t have you running around, not when you’re supposed to be mine. Ya know?” Hoarse and breathy, you hardly recognize your own voice when you answer, “And I would probably be naked, too, right?” “Oh, absolutely.” It’s a rapid response, Eddie’s hair bouncing in time with his agreeing nod. Inhaling, you lean back, just outside of the intoxicating circle of Eddie’s nearness. Your fingers find your mug again, wrapping around the seeping warmth there, “Let me think about it, ok?” Brushing his nose against yours, Eddie pushes a small kiss to the corner of your lips, “Of course, princess. Whatever you want to do, you know I got you.” And as he reaches for the neck of his instrument you move to stand, resting a hand on his arm, “Ok, yea. Let’s go.” Tearing down the narrow hallway towards his bedroom, you giggle, knowing he’s going to catch up to you. There’s laughter in his voice when he bellows, “Oh, darlin’ are you in trouble!” Shucking your clothes was fun, easy even. Eddie really loves loving on you, his calloused fingers find your curves enticing, his lips marking you as his. Distracting you with his talented tongue, his kiss stealing your breath as his hands coast along the expanse of your ribs, he hums, “Hmm, I think you like being at my mercy. Do you? Huh, pretty lady?” Hell yes, you do. Settling underneath his body, your nude hips rudely spread below his denim clad ones, the friction on your skin is overwhelming. Mewling weakly, you lift your pelvis, angling for more, “Yes, Ed, I do. I fucking love it.”

Sitting back on his heels, Eddie makes a big show of unhooking his cuffs from the bedpost, ensuring that you can see every move he makes. Cocking his head to the side, it’s his non-verbal way of giving you one last chance to decline and you buck your hips below him, “Go on.” “I fucking love you.” He says it in a disbelieving way, as if Eddie doesn’t truly understand that you’re his, willingly and wantonly his. “Sames, babe. I fucking love you.” With your declaration the soft snick of the cuffs locking your wrists to the headboard fills your head and you bite your bottom lip as you snuggle into the pillows at your back. Eddie, overeager, takes advantage by cupping your mound. Tutting out his mock disapproval, he teases, “Uh, baby, you’re so wet I could probably slide inside you with no problem.” “Eddie! Please?” You sound so desperate already, so needy, that your pleas are high pitched and whiny. Also, you want him to do it. Take you right here and now with no way to stop his hedonistic conquest of your bound body. A finger teases at your damp core while Eddie keeps his steady eyes on yours, “Begging me already huh? Well, we can’t have that. Not when people are here ‘cause then they’ll know what a dirty little slut I’ve turned you into.” And words that should fill you with shame instead set you aflame. You shift on the sheets, stretching your fingers as if you could possibly reach the luxurious curls that tickle along your tummy, a sigh of frustration ringing through you at the limited reach your bonds provide. Eddie licks his lips from between your knees, looking up at your body with fresh hunger on his face, “Gotta relax, honey. It’s gonna be a long campaign.” He slips one finger between your parting petals and your sob childishly, “How- how long? Exactly?” Rumbling low, an evil chuckle breaks through your lover, “Two-” a second finger widens the stretch of your canal making you throw back your head, with an animalistic groan, “-Maybe, three hours? Four tops.” Eddie works his middle and ring fingers deeper. It feels so delightful that you need a few extra seconds to process what he’s telling you but when you do, sputtering you moan, “Hours? Eddie, I- I don’t know if I can-” “You can and you will.” His voice is firm, almost as hard as his dick which is straining against the brass teeth of his zipper, “‘Cause if you don’t, well, I won’t let you cum tonight.” And that was a threat with teeth. But you did have a card to play, so, flashing Eddie your biggest, roundest puppy eyes, you soften your tone to it’s syrupy sweetest, “But Eddie, babydoll, honey, sweetie pie. You’re gonna be gone so long and I just- I just need you now. Can I, pretty please, just-” A slap, more sound than sting, cracks along your inner thigh. When you push like this, Eddie gets bossy. Tough. The right kind of mean, and he’s in that zone right at the moment. “No, you can’t cum. You can’t just do whatever you want whenever you want.” Stalling their pace, his clever fingers curl into your velvet walls but hold still, making you gasp as he adds, “You’re gonna stay here, without cumming, until I get back and you’re gonna be grateful. Because you-” lowering his face to yours, “-little miss, said you would. And I’m holding you to your word.” Disappointed that your little plan to wiggle free has backfired, you begrudgingly comply through clenched teeth, “Fine. I- I can do it. I can- I will wait for you.” With that phrase falling from your bitten lips, Eddie’s hand starts moving again, his fingers scissoring you open as new arousal arrives in earnest. Quivering, your internal muscles start fluttering, eager to hold Eddie’s hand deep enough inside of you to ensure an orgasm of epic proportions. Your legs tense, ready for your pleasure to over take you, ready to fall over the cliff of your climax when Eddie pulls away from you, “Uh uh. Not yet, pretty girl.” You squeal wretched and wrecked, “Eddie! You can’t! Please! Please? Please. Don’t leave me like this.” You bang the cuffs against the metal frame, your frustration coming to a head but he just tosses his curls, smiling so deep his dimples deepen, “Honey, I wasn’t planning on it!” Huffing, you smile his way, relief flooding your features, “I knew you wouldn’t. I’m sorry.” Standing beside the bed, Eddie drags his bandanna from his back pocket, bending to kiss you deeply, his tongue licking into you wickedly. When he breaks from your lips, trailing pecks along the line of your jaw, you get lost in the sensations of his rough touch on your cheeks, so you don’t realize what he’s doing until it’s too late. Stuffing the folded fabric between your parted lips, Eddie proudly grins, “I’m gonna leave you like this: bound and gagged, your needy pussy begging for me.” Muffling your moaning, angry response, the gag does its job well. Satisfied with his work, Eddie rummages through his closet for a second before triumphantly looping a busted brown leather belt around one ankle, fastening it to the foot board. When he does something similar to the right side, you realize that you’re painfully on display, dripping and exposed to anyone who might stumble into Eddie’s room. Entirely unable to cover yourself or move at all. “God damn, you’re a fucking sight, sweetheart. Thanks for, ya know, doing this for me.” Warm, his palm skates over your taunt calf, the goosebumps that rise making you shiver, “Now, sit pretty for me. I’ll be back soon.” Those parting words hang in the air as he gently shuts the bedroom door, leaving you in silence. You strain to hear Eddie’s plodding steps through the trailer, the sounds of him setting up his Dungeons and Dragons event soon overtaken by his stereo kicking to life. Any chance of you being heard will be lost to the thrumming electric guitar riffs that screech from his speakers. Maybe you could sleep? Willing calm into your awkwardly stretched limbs, you inhale a steadying breath, shutting your eyes. Sinking into the playful, fantasy fueled side of your mind, you imagine what you must look like through Eddie’s eyes. You think about his hands, strong and clever, which had come so close to bringing you to ecstasy.

The doorbell trills, pulling you from your sexy thoughts. You make out the tones of Eddie’s Hellfire Club members trudging inside, joking and jeering as they make themselves comfortable. The music gets turned down, Eddie’s voice raising above the din, “Lemme grab the stuff from my room. Hang here, k?” His steps come closer and you almost vibrate at his return, the doorknob turning before Eddie shoves open the door, too wide in your opinion, shouting down the hall, “Guys! Give me a minute! And don’t eat all the Pringles, Gareth!” That he was holding the door open the entire time is enough for your panic at the threat of being exposed to the gang, but that’s why he was doing it, wasn’t it? Dropping his voice to that husky grumble which melted your resolve, Eddie grabs at your breast, squeezing, “You are doing so good, baby. Such a good girl, huh? Nobody knows you’re here, barely holding on, but me.” You hate yourself for doing it, but you press your chest into his hand, seeking more of his touch. You try to answer, speak your mind, but the gag has silenced your speech. Eddie toys with the soaked material, “I know, kitten. I know. Lemme get back to the boys-” but he pauses at the foot of the bed, staring at your juicy core, tugging at the leather strap holding you still, “-unless of course, you want them to know what you’re doing in here- you don’t, do you?” His fingers smack against the meat of your hip drawing a muffled moan from your full mouth, Eddie’s nails scraping nearer to the place where you want him the most, “I mean, you don’t want me to show Gareth and Jeff that I have all this when they have to go home and jack it like creeps, right?” Wild eyes widening, you jerk your head back and forth, desperate to convince him not to follow through on his line of thought but you go dumb when his thumb presses firmly against your clit. That stomach tightening feeling returns quickly as Eddie rubs in counter-clockwise circles, savoring the way your legs shimmy from denying the overwhelming need to snap shut under his rough attention. Huffing around the bandanna you beg with your tear filled eyes for the release you’ve already been refused once, the heat from unspent erotic energy visible in patches on your skin but you whimper brokenly when Eddie withdraws, sucking his thumb between his lips, “Soon, sweetheart. I promise.” How long ago was that? Second? Minutes? Hours? Time as you normally understand it has ceased to exist in the expanse of time since Eddie shut his cool steel cuffs around your wrists.

Throughout the afternoon you could hear the guys cheer and roar, encouraging each other or arguing their next move, their shouts lively and excited echoing from the living room. Eddie’s voice, theatrical as always, booms out story lines. Dustin burps loudly and you hear more footsteps, ones that are not Eddie’s, move your direction. A moment of panic grips you before blessed relief floods through you as you recognize the familiar sound of bathroom door slamming shut.

A sheen of sweat dampens your skin at the thought that one of the Hellfire boys will find you on display like this. Entirely exposed without a way to shield yourself from anyone who might stumble into Eddie’s room, you have to admit, you could not remember ever being so turned on in your life. Damn him and his erotic flights of fancy! You study Eddie’s ceiling, fascinated by the water stain that looks like a singing face when you tilt your head sideways. And you’re never going to look at his Iron Maiden poster in the same way again. How could you when you’ve been staring at it unceasingly for hours now? The noises you’re hearing shift. There’s rattling cans and the sound of a trash bag being shaken open. When the front door opens, you can hear muffled good nights and your eyes shut, grateful that you’ve made it through your own sadistic campaign. Eddie bounds down the hall practically knocking the door off its hinges, “Hi honey! I’m home! Did you miss me?” You make a growling sound behind your gag, the fabric completely sodden now, and making your jaw ache. It’s the first thing Eddie removes, “Oh, poor baby!” “Eddie, baby, please?” Sounding weak, you want him to take pity on you. You want him to let you go so that you can touch him. You want to make him weak from wanting just like he’s done to you. “I know, sugar. But you look so perfect. Let me make you cum, pretty girl. Let me get you off like you’ve been thinking about for hours.” Your skin is cool under the heat of his hands and you arc into the warmth that radiates off of Eddie. Leaning over you, Eddie drops his full lips to your breast, first suckling at the left nipple before repeating his attention on the right side. You’re stuck accepting all of his teasing, your body dripping as your pussy begs hotly for Eddie. This is where the inability to touch him is cruelest. You want nothing more than to bury your hands in his hair and direct the focus of his thick tongue to your begging center. Instead you can only writhe pitifully, “Oh god, feels so good, Eddie but more- I, I need more!” He releases each of your ankles but doesn’t give you the chance to close your legs. Using his wide thighs, Eddie holds you open, mesmerized by the mess between your thighs, “You’re so ripe, sweetheart. So fucking juicy. Let me have a taste, yea?” Catching under your knees, Eddie bends you half, your cleft splitting open for him. Sucking hotly down the dimpled skin of your inner thighs, he pauses to bite into the pliant flesh there, marking you with the purple stains of his passion. A small, sweet kiss pushes against the straining bud of your clit and then Eddie’s tongue is swirling around your pleasure center in tight rings. Jerking against your restraints, you sputter, “Ed- Eddie! Fuck!” But he doesn’t relent. Licking deeply now, it feels like he’s on a mission to drink you dry, his tongue dipping inside of you, fucking shallowly into your tight tunnel. It’s not deep enough, not firm enough to bring you to climax, but it feels amazing just the same. Shifting your legs over his shoulders, Eddie’s hair tickling the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, he slurps rudely at the lips of your labia before licking up to your clit once more. His lips attach there, sucking on you the way you would service the head of his cock, and grind your hips up as much as you can, desperate for release, “Don’t stop, please, please, don’t. I need you. Please!” Two fingers fill you expertly, the tips scraping against the front wall of your cunt, and your muscles lock up hard and fast. Thrashing, you toss your head, shifting your hips as if you could break the suction of Eddie’s lips. But he holds on and you fall to pieces, screeching out the name of the devil who torments you in the most delicious manner, “Eddie! Fucking Eddie!” The cuffs come off along with all of Eddie’s gear. With no preamble, no introduction, Eddie fucks into you with everything he has, savage and sweaty. His hands gouge your ass, palm prints that will stay with you for days, and you- you grab his long locks, jerking his mouth to yours hungrily. “Come on, Eddie. Give it to me. I’ve wanted you all day.” Hammering hard, his hips pummel yours without pretending to be gentle. All you can hear is Eddie’s ragged breathing and the squelch of your slit around him. You feel it- the telltale sign of another orgasm growing in the wet warmth of your belly and you sob, “Eddie-” “I know honey, I can feel you squeezing me. You’re gonna make me cum, baby. ‘Cause you take me, fuck, you take me so well. Like you were made for me. Shit! Shit!” And you feel the arrival of his release, triggering your own. Clinging to Eddie, your nails clawing into his shoulders, you ride out the aftershocks of your ecstasy as he shudders above you. Kisses, sweet and soft, land on your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose. When he lays his lips over yours, you part them, gladly, and let your tongues twirl around each other. Pushing up on his toned arms, Eddie looks down at you with that sly smirk on his face, “Hi.” “Hi, yourself.” You counter, brushing long curls from his neck, your fingers trailing along his cheek His forehead rests against yours as he inhales a steadying breath, “So, what did you think? Was my idea a good one?” Giggling, you shake your head, “It was good enough for me, Eddie. How about you?” Rolling off of you, Eddie lands on his side, pulling you into his arms, “I think I should tie you up more often.” That makes you laugh out loud. You kiss him again before standing up on wobbling legs. He moves to help but you wave him off, “I’m ok. Need the bathroom and some water.” As you start to leave the room, you turn back to Eddie with his hands laced behind his head, elbows spread over the pillow as he looks at the ceiling, “Eddie?” “Yea, babe?” “You trust me, don’t you?” And you watch as his eyebrows arch into his sticky bangs, “‘Course I do, but, what makes you ask?” “Because next time, you get cuffed to the bed.” —FIN—

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368 notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 2 years

Text

Living

Bucky Barnes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2445 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Bucky seeing the indentations on your skin from your clothes after a long day

—————————————————————————————————

It had been a long day.

Longer than you’d had in quite a while and for most of it, you were almost convinced that it was never going to end.

You had been on your feet for hours, taking care of business and doing whatever was asked of you, to the point where you practically had to drag yourself through the door of your apartment.

This whole civilian life thing was really starting to feel like more trouble than it was worth.

Sure, there was something to be said about no longer having to fight for your life and constantly be looking over your shoulder but on days like this, you almost wished you hadn’t agreed to this.

At least you were good at that.

You knew who was good and who was bad, and you always knew where you stood with both sides.

This was something else entirely.

Working a nine-to-five just wasn’t doing it for you, and frankly, neither was trying to keep a low profile.

It just wasn’t who you were.

Still, you kept at it because you knew that you had to. This wasn’t about you, after all, this was about Bucky.

He’d had his entire life stolen from him, and you weren’t about to pretend you knew what that felt like. Being an international spy wasn’t easy work by any means but it was work that you’d chosen for yourself.

You couldn’t imagine having to build yourself up from scratch the way Bucky was now.

It had to feel like a losing battle all the time.

Not that he’d ever let you know it.

Bucky kept a brave face, going to therapy and repeating his rules under his breath like a prayer. He’d put everything into this, and you were part of the reason he’d been able to after all these years.

Losing Steve had nearly broken him, but even then, he had you to remind him that his best friend would have wanted him to live.

To really live.

What the two of you had been doing so far, it was surviving, and existing but it couldn’t be considered living by any means.

Living was exactly what you’d been doing lately.

Living was working a mediocre job that you couldn’t stand, and getting a paycheck at the end of the week. Living was going to a therapist every few days to work through years of trauma you’d been hiding from.

…but that wasn’t all.

Living was also waking up in a warm bed, safe and sound, beside the man you love as he drooled into his pillow, and going to your favorite little breakfast spot in your pajamas on a Sunday morning.

It was so much more than either of you had ever known, and sometimes you had to stop just to think about what a miracle it was that you and Bucky were getting to experience it together.

Sometimes.

On days like today though, you cursed the blonde for making you trade in your vast intel and handguns for a planner full of meetings and company brunches.

You hated those stupid brunches.

Almost as much as you hated the stupid pencil skirts you had to wear to work every day.

Tony had pulled some strings and got you a pretty good job as a secretary at one of the local veterans affairs offices, which was certainly nicer than any job you could have hoped to get with your limited work experience.

For that, you were grateful.

You just wished they didn’t require such a stupid dress code.

The fabric bunched up around your waist when you sat and never quite fell far enough down on your thighs to avoid needing constant adjusting. Not to mention the worst part of all, the buttons.

There were four of them in total, keeping the garment tight to your body.

It wasn’t altogether uncomfortable, because if it were you would have simply refused to wear it, but by time point in the day, you were antsy to get it off anyway.

You just wanted to put on a pair of comfy pants and melt into your bed for a few hours.

So, that’s exactly what you set off to do.

You dropped your bag on the ground by the door and didn’t stop on your path until you made it to your bedroom.

Never in your life had you expected something so menial would mean so much to you, but for some reason, it did.

You knew, of course, that was because the space you shared with Bucky was so much more than just four walls and a mattress but you didn’t want to think about it too much.

You didn’t want to think about all the nights you’d spent sleeping with one eye open, with a bag strapped to your back, ready to run at a moment's notice.

If you opened that can of worms, you’d just remind yourself of all those nights Bucky must have spent, a prisoner in his own mind, and a slave to men who tortured, mutilated and abandoned him.

Those things were in the past now.

They had to be.

“Long day?”

In your desperate mission to catch your breath from the haze of normal life, you had almost forgotten the man in question was home, back from his government mandated counseling.

Unlike you, Bucky had to go through a series of trivial things before he could get a job out in the public. After all, they had to make sure that he was mentally sound and wasn’t going to be a danger to the rest of the population.

It was unnecessary, in your mind, but you knew better than to argue.

Bucky may not have been dangerous but that didn’t mean seeing Dr. Raynor wasn’t good for him.

There was a lot going on in his head, and there was even more hidden away that he didn’t even realize was there in the first place.

There was no shame in getting some help sorting through it.

“You have no idea” you sighed, shedding away the weight of the day along with your blouse, dropping the garment onto the carpet without any care for where it landed.

You’d have to put it in the hamper eventually, but that was a problem for a different time. Right now, all you wanted to do was get out of this stupid outfit.

You had gotten so used to jumpsuits and spandex all this time that you almost forgot how horrible normal clothes felt against your skin.

“Try me” Bucky suggested, plopping down on your shared mattress, his own tired body relaxing into the comfort it offered after a few moments.

It had taken you both so long to get used to sleeping in a real bed, but now that you had, he wasn’t sure either of you would be able to go back.

You didn’t even know where to start.

Your boss had a hell of a lot of attitude, considering who he was talking to, and your coworkers couldn't have been more annoying.

“If I have to listen to one more person talk about picking their kids up from daycare or filing their taxes, I may lose it” you allowed, thinking back to all those painful conversations you hadn’t asked for.

It was ridiculous.

The two of you were just supposed to sit through things like this now, like it was normal? Because it wasn’t.

Not for you.

You had been trading information and doing what you had to do to survive all your life, and now, you were meant to care about making sure you picked up your dry-cleaning and carpooling with Sue on Tuesdays.

It just didn't sit right with you.

As you spoke, you got to work unbuttoning all the closures on your skirt, letting it join the rest of your clothes in a puddle on the floor.

There was a time when something like that, something so simple, would have brought a raging anxiety out of you, but not anymore.

By this point, you didn’t even think twice about undressing in front of Bucky. There was no room for insecurity in true love.

In fact, you welcomed it.

There were much more important things to be tackled in your lives than the rolls of your belly or the way your legs jiggle when you run.

“I mean, you won’t believe what some of these people worry about” you continued, not paying any mind to the man in front of you as you waited for some kind of reaction, fiddling with your stockings.

At the very least, you were expecting some kind of scoff from him in reply, but it never came.

Bucky didn’t say anything.

He didn’t comment on how frustrating that must have been or say anything about how hard adjusting to this new life had been for him so far.

Bucky didn’t say anything at all, because his attention was somewhere else entirely.

It was only once his silence became abundantly obvious to you that you took notice of the way he was looking at you, or more accurately, your stomach.

For some reason, he was staring, and in all honesty, it was making you a little uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” he hummed, his words little more than a concerned whisper at first as he surveyed your midsection.

Naturally, you thought he had lost his mind but following his gaze anyway, you drew your eyes downward until you saw exactly what it was he was talking about.

There, where your tights and the band of your skirt had been resting all day, was an indent in your skin, outlining every place the article had made contact with your body.

It was a fairly common occurrence for you, but Bucky looked as though something awful had happened to you, like you were in some kind of awful pain and you just didn’t realize it yet.

It almost made you laugh, and perhaps you would have if he didn’t look so worried for you.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you shrugged, rubbing your hands over the marks a few times fast as if that would just make them go away.

The contact made the irritated skin burn a little but you didn’t pay it any mind. This was something that happened to you frequently and the lines would go away on their own in a bit.

Not that the male in front of you was so easily convinced.

In fact, as soon as your hands touched your skin, he winced, expecting you to be in some kind of pain.

You would have expected a man who’d had an unorthodox prosthetic like his, which had been grafted into his flesh and constantly ached and got irritated would have known better, but he didn’t.

Where you were concerned, he couldn’t help himself.

“That stupid skirt just sits in the same spot all day, it’s not a big deal, Buck” you assured, hoping that he would accept that answer and move on.

Your body was littered with scars, just like his was, but for some reason, this was what was bothering him. It didn’t really make sense to you, as endearing as it was that he cared so much.

Still, Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He thought he knew everything about you.

The two of you were almost never apart, and he knew for a fact that he’d been more open and honest about who he was with you than anyone before.

Though, as familiar as Bucky was with your body, there was still quite a bit he was unaware of.

After all, he only went out with a few girls before and it wasn’t exactly like girls in the forties were showing off their every curve to him.

It was different.

Not to mention that he’d never been so close to someone as he was with you.

You had brought things out of him that he was sure had faded away with the man he used to be, but piece by piece, you were chipping away at what the world had forced him to become, and revealing the man he truly was.

It just didn’t seem like he could have missed something like this, after all the time he’d known you.

“So this is just a thing that happens, and you’ve never mentioned it before?” Bucky kept going, looking at you as if you’d sprouted a second head for a moment, finding himself in shock over this.

He couldn’t believe it.

“It’s not a big deal, it just comes with the territory” you repeated, plopping down on your mattress without any concern for jostling the man at your side.

It really wasn’t.

It was no different than when someone’s feet hurt after a long day on their feet. It was just a minor inconvenience that you had grown used to dealing with.

Not that Bucky was about to accept that.

By this point, he was even more disturbed than he’d been at first, assuming that you’d gotten hurt or something.

He couldn't understand why you’d just accept that this was happening to you.

“Does it hurt?” he continued, gingerly reaching out to try and soothe the skin himself, your soft middle giving way lightly beneath his fingers.

Again, you felt that slight burning sensation but it was much less now than before, already proving just how much it didn’t hurt.

You weren’t sure what it was about this that was bothering him so much but clearly, he was struggling with it, so you only really had one choice.

You explained it to him.

You explained that it didn’t hurt, but got uncomfortable sometimes if you kept the clothing on for too long. You told him that you had been dealing with it for most of your life, which was why it wasn’t a big deal.

Finally, you explained that as sweet as it was that he was worried about you, that he didn’t have to be.

You would be fine in a little while.

Still, even after Bucky had decided that he believed you and you were going to be fine, he insisted on keeping an eye on you until the indents faded away.

…and even after they’d left, he kept a close hold on you.

He kept his warm right hand pressed to the middle of your stomach, his head resting in the crook of your neck until you both fell asleep.

This might not have been where you expected your life to be at this point but you didn’t pay it any mind anyway.

You wouldn't have wanted to end your day any other way.

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writing-in-april · 3 years

Text

Poker Face

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Reader thought she could get away with speaking her desires out loud as long as they were in a different language. Turns out, someone could understand her.

A/N: Hey guys! This is my fourth fic for my 1250 follower celebration!! I got this request from @imagining-in-the-margins and if you want to see the original request go checkout my follower celebration Masterlist! I do not speak Russian, nor do I know someone who does so I made everything in italics as if they were speaking in Russian! Hope y’all enjoy reading and requests are open!

Warnings: 18+, Public sex (who’s surprised lmao), Reader is very unprofessional and probably should be fired lmao, Dom Spencer with hints of Sub Spencer in the future (dont worry all my Sub Spencer lovers I’ve got more coming for that soon!), Nickname use: Princess, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral sex (M receiving),Creampie

Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k

Words in italics are in Russian

There was no harm in voicing my thoughts I thought to myself, in a different language, Russian specifically. Especially since the only one that could understand me wasn’t near me at the moment nor would she probably bat an eye at a slightly risqué remark. Emily was snuggled up at the other end of the jet, her headphones in both of her ears. They would plug up any sound around her preventing her from translating the lusty thought that sat on my lips.

If I said my thoughts in Russian, no one would be able to catch how much I wanted Spencer’s fingers inside me. They were long, obviously dexterous- I knew they’d be able to reach places inside me that I couldn’t reach myself. I couldn’t say these thoughts out loud, in English at least,

I didn’t want Spencer to ever know. But, I wanted to get the thoughts swirling in my head off my chest, the only way to do that without embarrassment was to say it in a way that no one here would be able to understand.

As Spencer shuffled with ease and delt the cards out with his dexterous fingers my lusty thoughts were too pressing for my lips to be able to contain. So I spoke quickly with my voice slightly lowered, maybe Spencer and the people around me would miss my transition into a different language, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”

Spencer blinked back at me, obviously confused by my words.

“Sorry, just spaced out for a second, didn’t realize I had switched to Russian.” I giggled out, mostly because I was amazed that I had gotten away with it. I moved on quickly not wanting to linger on my ‘slip up’ any longer, plus I finally wanted to try and play against Spencer in a poker game, “Let’s see if your poker face is as good as everyone says it is, Spencer.”

—-

“Please, fuck me?” Over the course of my daring adventures I had become increasingly louder with my declarations. Last week I had commented about how much I wanted his cock in my mouth, of course in Russian and the week before that I had made my initial comment about how much I wanted his fingers inside me.

This one happened to be the loudest out of the three little sentences that seemed like innocent slips into another language to everyone else, but to me and only to me I was voicing my desires. Each time I did it a little rush of adrenaline sparked through me, no one besides Emily would be able to translate, who wasn’t with me in the file room. It was only Spencer and I in here right now, the rest of the team had gone home for the night.

“Maybe we shouldn’t do that at the office, but if you asked me again somewhere else I’d do it.” He answered me back and in perfect Russian as well.

My entire being withered in embarrassment as soon as I had translated Spencer’s words, he understood me. He had understood all of what I had said, every last word. I should’ve remembered that he spoke Russian, we had a case where he spent the whole time translating, I couldn’t believe how idiotic I had been. I wanted the earth to swallow me up in that moment, just so I could escape Spencer’s piercing gaze. I couldn’t tell from his words or the look on his face what exactly he was feeling about my words, some profiler I was. He didn’t seem angry at least, maybe a bit bemused?

I shrank back a little more over fear if he was making fun of me or not. If I hadn’t been feeling so mortified I would’ve realized that Spencer wasn’t one to make fun of anyone, hindsight is 20/20 after all.

“Your poker face is spot on.” Was the only measly response that I could find myself to come up with, in an attempt to cover my embarrassment if only a little bit. A bunch of apologies also felt like they were crawling up my throat. I was absolutely mortified that I had been caught red handed, it was beyond unprofessional- I don’t think there was even a word for it. I had crossed the line so far I might as well have leaped over it, forgetting that it had ever existed.

“Well- I am from Vegas and before you start apologizing, you don’t need to. I liked it.”

Silence fell between us again after his smart remark. It was like we were sizing each other up, deciding what to do.

“You know- there’s no one here tonight, everyone’s gone home…” My confidence seemingly had come back after being knocked down a few pegs. I tapped my fingers absentmindedly on the large desk in the file room, my mind wandering to think about what it would be like if he bent me over it.

“That’s true.” A smirk was on his face now, one that I didn’t see often from him. I felt like I was going to be ensnared by him as soon as I took the time to blink.

Sure enough in a flash he had brought me into a bruising kiss that I got swallowed up by so fast there was no chance for me to try and win back any dominance.

In no time he had me bent over the table, my face pressed into the cool silver metal with my back arching up trying to reach his touch in any way I could. He gripped the waistband of my skirt roughly, but did not pull it down right away. He pulled my skirt down ever so slowly that by the time it reached the floor I impatiently wiggled to step out of it.

“You’re impatient.” He stated simply. I couldn’t deny it because of how true it was, all he’d have to do was pull my black lace panties off to see how wet I had become.

Instead I decided to lean in on how needy and impatient I was by whining out, “Spencerrr, please?”

“What do you want? Is it the same thing you said to me on the plane?” He pressed a kiss to my hip as he pulled down my panties just as slowly as he had done with my skirt, making me squirm again. Once I was bare from the waist down before him he paused for a moment to look at me; I withered a little under his gaze. I whined again when he carefully took his long fingers to just slightly part my folds before speaking again, “Tell me.”

I hesitated a little for a moment trying to focus to remember exactly what I had said on the plane. When I had collected my thoughts I whispered out in Russian, much more shaky than I had said on the plane, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”

He was seemingly satisfied by my breathless reply, immediately beginning to work me up to orgasm. As he started to work his fingers inside of me he pressed his other hand down on the small of my back, a silent warning to not move.

I contemplated disobeying him, but when two of his fingers curled inside me to perfectly hit my g-spot it felt too good to lose.

“You gonna cum so quick for me, princess?” I got even wetter when he said princess like that, in Russian made me get even wetter than I already was. I was practically dripping down my thighs- and Spencer’s fingers.

“Yes! I’m gonna cum soon!” I gasped out and tried in vain to wriggle my hips to gain more friction, his hand on my back however was unyielding.

“Ask nicely and I might let you.”

“Please?!” I even asked it in Russian to make the plea possibly better in Spencer’s eyes. He didn’t respond right away, only picking up his pace faster. I tried to hold off my orgasm as best as I could, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to hold it. “Please, sir?”

“Alright, since you asked so nicely. You can cum, princess.”

I gave up the fight of holding off my orgasm, it immediately washed over me. My legs shook with the force of how hard and fast my orgasm shot through me, causing me to cry out as well.

Once I had come down from my high I slid off the table and down to my knees to repeat what I had said while at the round table a week ago “I want your cock in my mouth.”

He looked at me with wild eyes and obliged me, letting his cock free from his slacks. My mouth watered at the sight of him, his tip was bright red and dripping with precum. He had obviously not been the only one to be turned on.

As I grasped him in my hands and jerked him slowly I relished in the way he felt in my hand. He felt hot and heavy, I couldn’t wait to take him into my mouth.

I wrapped my lips around his tip, sucking lightly. Spencer’s head tipped backwards, his hands curled into fists as if he was trying to prevent himself from grabbing my hair to fuck my face. Little did he know that was exactly what I wanted.

When I guided one of his hands to the back of my hair to reassure him that I didn’t mind if he took control that way he almost let out a groan, but successfully stifled it by biting into his other fist. He then fisted my hair harder, wrapping his hand around so tight that tears prickled a bit in my eyes. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all, I enjoyed it.

I enjoyed it even more when he started to use his hand to guide my head up and down. He set the pace to the one he desired. It wasn’t too fast or hard, it was actually quite slow. He dragged out each of my movements and when my nose nuzzled at the base of his cock he had me stay there for a moment each time. Each time I gagged a little on him he let out an almost whine, it made me wonder whether or not he’d look good underneath me as well. Though I was thoroughly content with being underneath him at this time.

Even though I had already had one orgasm the tingling between my thighs was not satiated, looking up at Spencer’s blissed out face only served to make me even more turned on.

“Stop.” I blinked up at him like he had done so at me on the jet, confused. I pulled off of his cock, a slight pop echoed in the air. He then lifted me up onto the table with my legs wrapped around his waist before I could ask him why he wanted for me to stop.

“Now what was that last thing you said to me? I want you to ask me again. ” His cock was running up and down my folds teasing me. My head fell back and I moaned when he bumped my clit.

“Please, fuck me?” My breathless voice sounded wrecked already.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” As he slid into me my eyes rolled back into my head as he slid into me. His pace was faster this time than what he had done while fucking my face. I was squirming with overstimulation and my orgasm was going to come ridiculously fast. Spencer could sense it too and brought his hand down to my clit to bring me over my peak even faster.

“You can cum again, princess.” My second orgasm was much longer than my first. It sparked through me slowly, almost in waves that felt like they had multiple peaks.

He too, was not that far behind me. When he tried to pull out to probably cum all over the tops of my thighs I kept him locked in place with my legs around my waist and asked, “Cum inside me?”

He obliged me with a groan pumping into me a few more times before spilling inside me. We were both slick with sweat, making me wish for a shower. As soon as I got cleaned up that would be the first thing I’d be doing when I bolted home. Maybe I could bring Spencer along for another round, I could hear him speak Russian to me all day.

“I’ll go get something to clean you up.” He spoke softly as if he was afraid I’d break, you’d think after the way he had fucked me that he’d realized I was not so breakable. I’d have to fix that later. As I sat there with his cum dribbling down my thighs waiting for him to return , mixing with my own I knew that I’d never underestimate Spencer’s poker face again.

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works:

@shotarosleftpinky @90spumkin @kyra-morningstar @s1utformgg

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss @slutforthegubes

Dom Spencer:

@rainsong01

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler #1250 follower celebration #1250 followers

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Asmodeus Dating Headcanons

Request: Relationship headcanons for Asmodeus having a chubby bf?

A/N: I hope you like this. I didn’t want to assume that you’re insecure about your weight so I tried to not add that

Asmodeus makes a wonderful partner- attentive, caring, always making sure that you are in the spotlight with him and if needed, will provide you a new wardrobe to match with his. While the outfits won’t scream “the typical couple outfits”, it’ll be clear that you two are together with each matching shades or patterns. A relationship with him is something that he treasures for however long it is maintained because at that moment, you are part of his world and how could he ever let you down.

Devildom is home to demons and others alike, beings that come in all sorts of styles. The Avatar of Lust is not picky when it comes to what size or shape his partners should be, preferring for a connection rather than trying to fit into some sort of profile for others. When the two of you begin your relationship, he’s extremely loving towards you- always affectionate and letting his hands sink in your plump arms and thighs, while his nose brushes against the side of your chin. He calls you all sorts of sweet things, love on the tip of his tongue and intertwined with his words. You’re so soft compared to him, your body warm as with soft hands you hold his and he just loves how rounded your fingers are, how he can kiss each tip of the finger and then some.

While he may not want you to change for him- the demon is fond of your own personality and tastes- he would like to occasionally match with you and find outfits that can help accentuate your features- you’re shoulders, waist, the way that you stand tall, the soft curves of your body and whatnot. As long as you’re with him, you’re going to find a style that fits you and makes you feel more you. He’s your everything- your hype man, your stylist, and partner. No matter what you wear, he’ll give his honest opinion, or touch up on the clothing by adding an accessory or removing something.

If you two are going to shop together, it becomes a bit more than just matching outfits. He’d also like for the two of you to have matching nails and will either do them himself or take you to a salon and get a manicure done with you. While he is no professional by any means, he does often prefer for himself to do your nails. Just a simple buffing and applying a nice coat of nail polish. He isn’t sure if he wants your hands to exactly match his or if he’s like a bit of an inverse compared to his. If you rather have a different color, there isn’t much he can do about it. he will playfully whine about it, but it’s all in good fun, nodding along as he applies a different color.

As mentioned previously, Devildom is home to demons and alike with different shapes and sizes so it is easy to find things suited for you. There are all sorts of patterns and outfits to try on- colors that pop against your skin and fabric that doesn’t rise or feel too scratchy. There are patterns that make you feel like a confident partner, walking around in statement shirts and if you find yourself comfortable in something then the outfit is already being rung up at the register. He wants you to feel good about yourself and he understands that a wardrobe holds so much power over that and having an expensive article of clothing and feeling comfortable in it is the way to expand and grow on your confidence.

More often than not, there are times where Asmodeus will completely zone out of whatever is going on in front of him. To the dismay of his eldest brother, it’s usually during meetings. He can’t find himself lingering with attention too long, and subconsciously his hand will reach beside him, his hand clasping around yours as he doodles little drawings over his notebook. His hand will hold yours, and he’ll memorize each small wrinkle of your hand, your nail beds, and the way that your fingers slightly curve. He loves the pillowy feel of it, how he can simply sink his fingers into your palm when he holds your hand. Because of this, he grows brazen, leaning into your touch, letting his hands brush against yours, or his biceps pressed against yours. He’ll hold your hand and ease you to lay on his lap, his attention on the television as his hand knits through your hair. He finds himself unable to pull away, completely enamored with how you feel against him.

The three realms all view body and size differently. Each is loved and cared for, something soft and beautiful but as the years continue and the human realm ticks onward, views do change. The demon is more than understanding when it comes to the human trends and fashions, so he knows that anything edging towards plus size is something rather watched with unblinking eyes. It takes a bit of time for him to find comforting words that actually meet something and he’s patient if you would rather work your way up to more tight fitting clothing or something alike. Emotional and lovely, is what he does best and he wants you to know that he has your back.

Due to the different views in the three realms, there are times where you will hear the demon reminiscence of how the Celestial Realm treated bodies. There’s a bittersweet smile that graces his features as he speaks how each body is meant for love, that the bread is warm to feast on and not to deny. Devildom is no different, bodies of demons and others coming in various sizes that the only difference something makes in attraction would be the class of a demon. He’ll turn to you and he’s excited to hear your views, to nod along and roll his eyes when something distasteful comes up.

Feeding each other is something that the egotistical brother craves. He enjoys the intimacy of it, the way that you trust a demon to be so close to your hand, fangs glistening under the pale moonlight as he bites off a piece of macaroon. He likes the sweet kisses that erupt from it, honey still on his tongue and something fruity and slightly bitter on yours as you press your lips against his. It’s no surprise that he would also take photos for Devilgram of either him feeding you or arms linked with one another, desert on the end of each hand poised at the lips, a moment captured and uploaded for all to be envious of.

It’s no surprise that the Avatar of Lust loves to kiss, but rather than having ones that are passionate and make you lose your breath, he prefers the quick, peppered types. The short kisses that press all over your face and slightly ruffle each other’s hair; the type where you giggle under his feathery touch and call his name in a lovely song. Asmodeus wants nothing more than to just touch you and nuzzle into the soft curve of your neck, to close his eyes and feel your pulse beat against him. He loves to let his kisses press against you in a quick flurry, one where you don’t have time to react and can only laugh as he ends each kiss and begins a new one with the same breath.

#obey me #om swd #obey me swd #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x mc #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmodeus x mc #obey me asmodeus fluff #obey me asmo imagines #obey me asmo headcanons #obey me asmodues headcanons #i hope you like it #i dont think im good with liek these type of specific requests becasue i dont think they would act differently #and by they i mean whoever was requested #plus i dont wanna assume like oh hey #youre obvs insecure by this totally normal thing #does that make sense?

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little-mad · 3 years

Text

Downsides of Thievery Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

“Maybe stealing from an interdimensional diplomat wasn’t my greatest idea,” Gavin thought to himself from his current position in a jail cell.

He’d been hesitant about the job right away. Stealing from humans was one thing, but stealing from alteons was on a whole new level. However, the payment the client had offered Gavin had been too tantalizing to refuse. Who knew it was bad to be greedy?

“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. How was he supposed to know the diplomat would have some weird magical artifact thing that could detect and identify trespassers? That was just unfair. Gavin was a good thief, so good that he’d managed to make a career out of it. If he had been caught due to his own ineptitude maybe he wouldn’t be so peeved. But this was just a matter of not having enough information. Thus making it unfair.

Prison was something every criminal feared, but it was also something every criminal prepared for in some sense. If Gavin was headed for prison, he might not be so worried. Sure it would suck, but at least he felt sure his undeniable charms would make him friends in no time. But Gavin wasn’t headed for prison--no, he was being extradited to the alteon dimension.

Gavin shivered at the thought. Despite having stolen from one, he had never actually seen an alteon in person. Pictures and videos could only do so much, at least that’s what people said. Apparently the true gravity of an alteon’s massive size couldn’t be understood until you saw one in real life.

Not only would Gavin quite literally be put in the hands of an alteon, but he would also be getting taken to a completely different dimension that only a few very important humans had ever visited before. Maybe he should’ve felt special.

Were the circumstances different, Gavin might’ve even felt excited for the adventure. His work had taken him all over the world, it would be thrilling to get to see a whole new one. However, he had a feeling he wouldn’t exactly be getting the grand tour.

It was at that moment that Gavin began to hear footsteps approaching his cell. A few moments later, two business-suit clad federal agents appeared. Gavin scrambled to his feet and took several unconscious steps towards the back wall. The key jangling in one of the agents’ hands told him exactly what time it was.

“Your ride is here,” the female agent announced, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Gavin scowled.

The key carrying agent swiftly unlocked the door and beckoned for Gavin to exit the cell. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he stated impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me or something?” Gavin questioned, taking note of the fact that neither agent had brought handcuffs with them.

The woman’s smirk grew but she remained silent. “The alteon won’t need cuffs to restrain you,” the man responded.

Gavin instantly felt the pit of fear in his stomach grow. Horrible images of himself trapped in gigantic hands were invading his mind. Being given over to the alteons meant that his civil rights would be essentially irrelevant. Unless alteons had laws protecting humans, which he doubted, then they could do pretty much whatever they wanted with him. Gavin swallowed hard.

“A-actually, I’m okay staying here…” he stammered. God, he hated how pathetic he sounded. Gavin’s line of work required a lot of guts, and while a healthy dose of caution was always good, he had never considered himself to be cowardly in any sense of the word. But now...well now he felt like the biggest fraidy cat in the whole world.

The male agent gave Gavin what almost seemed like a sympathetic look. “Sorry, but that’s not an option,” he said, once again making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Dad was right. I should’ve become a doctor,” Gavin thought miserably to himself as he very reluctantly exited his cell.

The trip up from the cell block to the roof of the building pretty much felt like a march to death. Federal employees stared unabashedly at the man practically being sacrificed to giants. Some wore looks of pity, while others had smug expressions on their faces, as if to say “serves him right.” Were Gavin in a better mood he probably would have scowled at the nosy jerks, or at least stuck his tongue out at them. But as things were, he was in no mood.

Rael sighed as he shifted his feet impatiently. It didn’t elude him that every human in the vicinity stiffened at his movement. He refrained from rolling his eyes. It was irritating how the humans constantly acted so skittish all the time, as if he would suddenly go on some sort of rampage.

“Why did they have to give me this assignment?” Rael mentally groaned.

Unlike many of the members of the Imperial Guard, he hadn’t joined with some idiotic fantasy of glorious duels and honorable battlescars. Rael joined because he knew it was the easiest way to elevate his station. Plus standing guard at the palace was easy work that he was perfectly content with. That’s why he had been less than pleased when he'd been informed he would have to venture to the human dimension to retrieve some human criminal.

Prior to today, Rael had only seen a human once, it had been from a distance and only for a second as they were being escorted into the palace. Therefore, he’d had no personal reason to dislike humans. It was just that from everything he had heard about them, they sounded so...annoying. And so far, his experiences with them today had proven that to be fairly accurate.

Rael suppressed a sigh as he glanced around. Thankfully the building he’d been told to go to was at the edge of a human city, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with civilians gawking at him. The federal agents gathered on the roof in front of him were bad enough.

The stories about how giant being in the human realm would make you feel rang true. Rael felt positively colossal next to people who looked to be barely taller than his fingers. Not to mention the building he was standing beside, which appeared to be three stories, reached no higher than his knees. “Humans are lucky our imperialistic urges died a century ago,” Rael thought. Taking over the human realm would no doubt be a piece of cake, even with their supposed technological advancements.

“Sir!” Rael’s attention was caught by the shout of one of the humans standing on the roof below. He looked down to see the speaker was the woman who appeared to be in charge. “We apologize for the wait, the prisoner is being brought up now,” she announced. It was almost amusing, the way they had to yell for their tiny voices to even be perceived by him.

“Good,” Rael responded simply, electing not to mention the fact that the prisoner should’ve been ready and waiting for him when he arrived.

After a few minutes, Rael caught sight of the door on the roof entrance swing open. Three humans stepped out. The two dressed similarly to all the other federal agents practically had to drag the third one out. It was difficult for Rael to see from so far away, but the odd one out appeared to be a young man. He had light skin, a crop of messy brown hair, and appeared to be quite slim.

Rael raised a single eyebrow. “This is the prisoner?” he questioned as he eyed the man. He didn’t look like much, which was applicable to pretty much all humans, but Rael found it hard to believe that this one could’ve successfully stolen from an alteon.

“Yes, sir!” replied the woman in charge. “His name is Gavin Stone, he’s believed to be associated with many high profile robberies,” she explained.

Rael spared the human called “Gavin Stone” one last look before giving a shrug and reaching for the miniature iron cage attached to his belt.

The cage, which had been especially made for this occasion, was quite simple in its construction. The thing didn’t even have a lock because the latch to open the door was too big for a human’s miniscule hands to manage. It would do perfectly for keeping the criminal contained throughout the duration of the trip back to the palace.

The moment Gavin had laid eyes on the alteon, his body had practically separated from his mind. Physically, he was moving forward with the guidance of his two escorts, but his mind was still struggling to process the impossibly large person looming above him.

If the alteon’s size wasn’t strange enough, the guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance Fair or something. His skin was a soft brown color, and he had long black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail behind him. His eyes were a striking teal color that stood out against his angular features. As for his clothing, he looked to be wearing what appeared to be some kind of light leather armor over top of a forest green tunic. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that he had pointy elf ears.

Gavin had known the alteon dimension was almost medieval in nature, and he’d known the alteons had pointy ears, but it was still so damn bizarre to see in person.

As Gavin was in the middle of gaping, the giant began to move. He flinched at the action, and he noticed everyone else on the rooftop tense up as well. Clearly nobody was comfortable around this--this thing! “How can they hand me over to that?!”

It wasn’t until he had been practically shoved to the edge of the roof that Gavin’s brain caught up with what his body had been doing. Frantically he looked around him. All of the agents, including his former escorts, had backed away from the edge of the building closest to the alteon. This left Gavin stranded, with a giant man a mere few feet away.

With a hard gulp, Gavin tilted his head back to look up at the creature who was about to snatch him away. Those teal eyes were glancing down at him, and in his hand was a cage the perfect size for holding a stupid human who really should’ve just become a damn doctor.

#so yeah...i've got some new ocs #get ready for some juicy fearplay in this sucker #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t story #g/t community #my writing #oc: Gavin Stone #oc: Rael #g/t fearplay

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lilysdaydreams · 3 years

Text

Chocolates

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X plussize!Reader

→ Request: hello i love you and your writing (firstly) i was wondering if you could write a corpse husband xfem reader who is plus size? i havent seen any of those lol but maybe she gets hate over it and wants to start eating better and working out with him?? you don’t have to if you don’t want to tho!!

→ Warnings: chubby reader, insecure!reader, Body Image issues !!! Swearing, Descriptions of Readers feeling really sad about their body + online hate comments on readers body.

→ A/N: Idk what happened with this. This past week has been hard and I've been really tired but I forced myself to write something. I dont really think its goof but I hope the person who requested it likes it :(((

~~~

You fell into bed, wrapping the blanket around you and rolling over onto your side. Work had been hard today, your manager getting mad at the smallest of things. You could hear Corpse in his streaming room, talking to the viewers. You and Corpse had been together for 2 years now, and both of you had finally decided you were ready to reveal your relationship to his fans. First, you'd simply joined him on stream, talking at some points. Then a few weeks later, he'd posted a photo of him holding your hand and tagged you in it.

Your followers had gone from your 450 friends to 53 000 strangers. And that was only on the first day. You hadn't been on Instagram for a whole week, too overwhelmed about all the attention. It was a Friday today though, so you decided you might as well.

You opened up Instagram and clicked on your profile, eyes widening as you saw the 500k written above followers.

"Five hundred thousand?" You whispered to yourself, not even being able to comprehend the number. Like sure, if you compared it to Corpses 2 million, it seemed small, but it's not as if you did anything! What reason would they have to follow you? You only had two photos posted as well, an outfit photo from your sister's weddings, and one of you drinking a bubble tea.

Quickly clicking on the bubble tea picture, you opened up the comments smiling when the first comment that caught your eye was "Woah shes so pretty." You scroll slowly, your smile growing bigger at all the love that Corpses fans gave you.

"SHES GORGEOUS"

"QUEEN WHAT THE HELL STEP ON ME"

The amount of "CHOKE ME" comments were hilarious.

You chuckled at a few and scrolled again, reading another one.

"Why did he have to pick a fat girl?"

For a second, your heart completely stopped.

"What the fuck," you muttered.

You quickly clicked on the replies, wanting to see what others had to say. There were people defending you and arguing with the user, and there were others who agreed with them.

“Yes omg do you se ever stomach? Ugh how can Corpse stand staring at that the whole day?”

“Bruh her legs 😂😂”

You sucked in a breath.

You’d never been thin, always a bit chubby and with a bit of stomach fat. You’d been very insecure in high school, always wearing baggy clothes to hide your body, but who hadn’t felt that way in high school. After it though, you’d been okay. You felt happy and Corpse always let you know that he loved your body just the way you were. You were pretty confident normally. Today though... today it felt like all of that confidence has crumbled. You kept scrolling focusing on all the comments that talked about your weight.

Throwing the phone on the bed, you got up and moved to the mirror you have in your room. Grabbing the cloth draped over it, you pulled it off, looking at yourself in the mirror. You can see every flaw the comments talked about. You can see your double chin, your huge stomach, your big thighs. You held your arms up, wincing when you see the fat on them. Your probably looked so bad when you waved bye to someone. Tears now gathering in your eyes, you moved the cloth back over the mirror and then went back to bed, using the pillow to muffle your sobs.

You knew you were being a bit stupid. Random people on the internet and their opinions shouldn’t matter to you. But for some reason, the words had really gotten to you, and all you wanted to do was cry.

A few minutes later, you heard the door open, and knowing it was Corpse, you pushed your head into the pillow even more, not wanting him to look at you like this.

“Babe,” he whispered, coming over and patting you on your back.

“Baby,” he repeated when you refused to say anything and that he could hear was your sniffling. “You okay?”

You sobbed in response and he let out a “Oh” and then pulled you away from the pillow.

You looked down, refusing to look at him because you would look like an absolute mess.

“God I look so bad right now, he’s gonna see me and realise how big of a fat mess I am and leave me,” you thought.

“Hey baby, what’s wrong?” He asked again grabbing you in a hug.

“Was it work?” He asked when you didn’t answer. “or did your mom call again?"

When you stayed silent, he let out a sigh and let you go, getting up from the bed.

You immediately looked up, and asked “Where are you going?" because for a second you felt like it was true. Maybe Corpse was leaving you because of how disgusting you were.

He looked down at you, startled by your sudden question. "Just to get some chocolate and a blanket."

"No." you said voice shaking a bit from the crying, "I don't want chocolate."

"What babe, what the fuck?" He said softly, dropping back down next to you. "Baby what's going on, just tell me, I can't do anything if you can't tell me."

"You-You know your fans? They're amazing, right?" you finally said, hesitating a little.

"It's just, I checked some comments on one of Instagram posts and there's so many where they're just talking about how fat I am, or how big my stomach is, or how ugly I look," you said, your voice lowering to a whisper at the end.

A beat of silence and then;

"Oh baby noooo," Corpse whispers, grabbing you and pulling you into a hug.

You cant stop the tears from leaking out of your eyes and you bury your head into his shoulder. His hoodie smells like the bodywash he uses, making you calmer in a second.

"Sweetheart, you are absolutely beautiful," he begins, whispering into your ear. "Did you know that when I first saw you, I couldn't even speak? Like I legitimately felt like my mouth had been glued together, I couldn't form any words."

Heat rose to your cheeks as he continued on.

"You were like an angel, literally glowing, and guess what, I still feel like that whenever I see you now. When you come back home and you're wearing that huge hoodie and you just have the hood pulled up because its cold and the little pout on your face, guess what you look fucking gorgeous to me like that. And when you're in our bed, wearing shorts and a crop top with your hair in a bun waiting for me to make popcorn so we can watch a movie, god you look like an angel then okay?"

"Oh ah, when you're on your period, and seriously bloated and eating all the food, you fucking look beautiful to me then as well. Your tummy- Your tummy makes me so happy like look at this soft little baby. And guess what? I fucking LIVE for your thighs and you know that baby, like I will die for them okay? Your ass- well, we both know what I feel about that so I won't say anything." He ended with a chuckle.

You moved back a little, and he grabbed your face and rested his forehead on yours.

Taking a deep breath, he started whispering, eyes locked onto yours.

"Every single part of you is perfect. And I love it. I find you so sexy that I literally cannot breathe sometimes because of your presence. You're amazing and I fucking love you. What those people say on the internet, why the fuck does it matter huh? They obviously can't recognize the absolute fox in front of their faces."

Slowly he wiped the tears from your face, and returned the watery smile that you gave him.

"Chocolates?" he asked, still whispering.

You nodded your head, giggling as he ran to get them.

fin.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #fluff #angst #read warnings #plus size #plsusize!reader

378 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Interview

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 1,729 Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, First meetings Summary: Aaron finally gets the greenlight to hire a new agent. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 0-6 Months at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) A/N: Sophie and Reid are partners, because I love them! Link to AO3 or read below!

It takes two months for Hotch to convince Section Chief Strauss to open a requisition for a new member in the BAU. There was a lot of paperwork to be filled out, including detailed explanations as to why he felt the team needed another profiler. He thought it was obvious: for all they do work together as a cohesive unit, Morgan and Elle were technically partners, and when she left, Prentiss took her place. Reid doesn’t have a partner, which makes him feel like a third wheel, sometimes.

(He won’t admit to it, but Hotch notices things. It’s kind of his job.)

Needless to say, the position becomes available, but it takes another couple of months—and several interviews—for Hotch to find the right person to fill it.

Agent Cortes comes highly recommended by the Intelligence Section’s unit chief, someone he worked on a case with in his early days at the BAU; she is young, just 29, but she is more than qualified, and the referring agent is someone whose opinion he respects, so he’s hopeful.

Gideon sits in on the interview because he respects his opinion, too, although Hotch will make the final decision.

Cortes is Latina, petite and polite, with a firm handshake, a warm smile, and dark, striking eyes. Gideon looks at her with somewhat passive interest (something only Gideon can pull off) as they go over the highlights of her resume.

“You have bachelor's degrees in Psychology and Sociology, and master’s degrees in Behavioral Science and Criminology, all from the University of Chicago. How did you manage all of that, at your age?” Hotch asks, wondering if maybe she is gifted like Reid.

“A lot of hard work,” she replies, and it’s an answer he likes. “I graduated high school, enrolled in a dual major program and completed the bachelors’ at 22. Then I was hired onto the Chicago Police Department, and I worked there and got my Criminology degree at the same time. The Behavioral Science degree came after; I began it in person, and they let me finish online when I moved here to join the FBI.”

“What interested you about behavioral science?”

“I grew up in a city that was rich with diversity, but I still noticed that certain people were susceptible to falling into certain patterns, and became curious about why we as people do the things we do. I was already interested in criminal justice, so it seemed a natural path to take.” He nods, jots down a couple of notes before looking back up.

“Tell us about your time with the Chicago Police Department.”

“I went through training while finishing my Criminology degree, worked a beat for about six months before being assigned to the Intelligence Unit; my sergeant found value in the way I was able to get people talking, and a large part of my work was with criminal informants. I worked in Intelligence for three and a half years, and for the last two I was on the Tactical Response Team as well.”

“Tactical Response—that’s SWAT?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did you end up in SWAT?” Gideon asks, speaking up for the first time; she looks over at him for the first time, as well. “I mean no offense, you’re clearly more than capable, you’re just… small.” She gives him a brief smile.

“Well, there was a hostage situation, the team leader determined that we could get a vantage point from an air duct... and I was the only one who fit.”

“You don’t seem resentful of that,” Hotch notices, a bit surprised. It’s not an origin sorry everyone would be proud of. Her eyes turn back to him.

“I find it’s more important what you do with your time somewhere than how you got there. I contributed to many successful responses over the course of two years that had nothing to do with my size.” It is a great answer, and he holds back a smile of his own, simply nods.

“So you left Chicago to join the bureau; did you have your sights set on any department in particular?”

“I was torn between Language Analysis and Intelligence and ended up somewhere in the middle.”

“Intelligence because of your background, why Language Analysis?” Gideon asks.

“I speak 6: English, Spanish, and Italian as my native languages, plus Russian, French, and German. I have an ear for them.”

“Impressive,” Gideon says, nodding, lips pressed together. Cortes smiles, modest.

“It’s helpful; more than 30% of the population of Chicago speaks a language other than English at home.” Hotch does crack a smile at that, because the statistic reminds him of Reid.

“How would you describe your current role with Intelligence?”

“The official title is Intelligence Liaison. I’m part of a team that travels domestically and internationally, to law enforcement or government agencies, to debrief them on threats we’ve identified, or potential threat activity, and to help them formulate offensive countermeasures.” There is a lot of experience there that would translate well to the BAU, that much is clear. If anything, she may be overqualified, but they would never turn down the help.

“What’s the most frustrating part of your job?” It’s a question he always throws in, because true frustrations—and how one handles them—can say a lot about a person.

“When they don’t listen and people die. I do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen often.” He looks up from the form to the woman, who, in that moment, shows the things she’s seen all over her face. They’re gone from one blink to the next, and he breaks eye contact to choose his next question. No follow up needed there.

“It sounds like you have experience interacting with law enforcement, which is important here at the BAU. We can’t work on a case unless we are invited by the agency with jurisdiction, so maintaining healthy relationships is vital. We have a communications liaison who deals directly with police departments, sheriff’s stations, FBI field offices, and the media, but knowing how to handle them is a big part of the job.” It’s not a question as much as a confirmation, and she nods.

“I’m confident in my ability to interact with other law enforcement in a direct but respectful way. It’s something I’ve done a lot of as Intelligence Liaison.” He has one final question, and though he’s already more than pleased with the interview, the answer will make or break his decision.

“Why the BAU?”

“Curiosity is what got me interested in behavioral science, but it’s empathy that makes me interested in the BAU. My current work helps to save lives, but it’s all very large scale, and it can be detached, cold. I can be detached and impartial when I need to be, but I can’t deny it would feel like a better use of my skill set to make a more tangible difference.” He agrees, can already tell that she would thrive in the environment of their unit, and it’s just the kind of answer he’s looking for; he takes a few more notes, glances over at Gideon for input.

“Anything else you’d like to ask?”

“I think we’ve covered it,” he says, and he stands abruptly, which makes Agent Cortes stand as well. Hotch follows suit. “Nice to meet you. He’ll be in touch,” Gideon adds, shaking her hand briefly and leaving the room. She is left looking a little lost, and Hotch steps around the desk.

“I apologize for him, he’s a little…”

“Capricious?” she offers with a smile, and he laughs lightly.

“That’s accurate, actually. Please don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t. I’ve heard a lot about him, so he kind of lives up to my expectations.” She tilts her head, looking curious. “You don’t, though. Unit Chief Roberts told me you would be stoic; I expected someone much more aloof, but you’re actually rather warm.” He is a bit surprised by her directness, even more so that she would find him... warm.

“I doubt that my colleagues would agree with your assessment,” he says, thinking of the number of less than kind words used to describe him in the past. She just smiles again.

“I guess you really do need me on your team, then.”

He finds it hard not to agree.

“There are a few more things we’ll need from you, such as a psychological evaluation, recent performance reviews, a physical. I’ll be in touch with Agent Roberts, and then you, if we determine you are the right fit. I’ll see you out,” he adds, gesturing to the door, and she follows. The team, who was not yet in the bullpen when she arrived, looks on, curious, as they head to the glass double doors.

“Thank you for the opportunity to interview. I hope to hear from you soon,” she says with another firm handshake, and he nods.

“We’ll be in touch. It’s a pleasure to have made your acquaintance.”

“Likewise, Agent Hotchner.” She gets onto the elevator, and he heads back to the bullpen, stops specifically at Reid’s desk, though everyone is nearby.

“Congratulations, Reid: you’ve officially got a partner.” Reid smiles, looking pleased.

“Who is she?”

“Special Agent Sophia Cortes. She currently works for Intelligence. Bachelors’ in Psychology and Sociology, Masters’ in Criminology and Behavioral Sciences. Fluent in six languages. Got her start at Chicago PD like you, Morgan—Intelligence there too. And SWAT.”

“SWAT?” Morgan echoes, impressed. “She’s gotta be 5’2” out of those heels.”

“She’s got glowing reviews from her superiors there, and from her unit chief: he called her resilient, determined, empathetic, a team player. She’s good at communicating with law enforcement, victims, even unsubs. The BAU is the right place for her. We’ll just be waiting on paperwork to make it official.” He crosses his arms, leans back against the filing cabinet. “I’d have introduced you, but she doesn’t know she’s being offered the job just yet.”

“She must have made quite an impression on you for you to decide on the spot,” Prentiss says, and he nods his head in agreement.

“I think she’ll fit in well. I saw a little bit of each of you in her, and she’s very…” He tries to think of one word to sum up the woman he just interviewed, and decides with a half-smile: “warm.”

#aaron hotchner x original female character #hotch x original female character #latina original female character #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Congratulations

F/M Pairing: Fem!Reader x Kim Seungmin

Warnings: minor smut scene; language; lots of alcohol (the reader and Seungmin are wine aficionados)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Married AU!!

Summary: It’s with great reluctance that you leave behind the tropical paradise that you had been sharing with Seungmin for your honeymoon of pure bliss. It’s time to return to the real world with your husband and finally finish renovating your new home. Unfortunately, the real world is never ideal, and you can’t help but feel immensely jealous when Seungmin’s secretary (and ex-girlfriend) temporarily shares your apartment after a break-up with her previous boyfriend.

A/N: I've done it, everyone! So, like, happy Seungmin day! As you can probably tell, the title was inspired by Seungmin and Han’s Day6 cover!

For two luxurious weeks, you were allowed to partake in a celebration of perfection.

It all started with your grand arrival, checking in to a Five-Star hotel that included access to an enormous wave pool, complimentary refreshments, and an alcohol selection that sent your liver into a frenzy. But neither you nor Seungmin were that interested in the hotel amenities because you had both resigned yourselves to the comfort of a glorious king-sized bed. Of course, the prospect of a bed had never restricted Seungmin from testing the limits of your coupling, and you were certain that he had bent you over every piece of furniture in the hotel room at this point.

There was even one occasion when he pressed your body up against the cool glass of the sliding door that lead out to the balcony - allowing anyone who was so inclined to simply look up and discover the unforgettable image of your new husband fucking you in plain sight. But you were both insatiable - taking advantage of your ample free time to thoroughly map out each other’s bodies. Testing your desire to experiment with new things while taking full advantage of Seungmin’s rather impressive recovery time.

But in between passionate rounds of lovemaking, you also found the time to eat gourmet dinners at the finest restaurants while also pulling away from one another long enough to explore the warm beaches downtown. Your vacation resort was a total dream, and it was the greatest 336 hours of your life. Everything had been perfect, and maybe that’s why you were feeling rather downcast on the final morning of your honeymoon together, glancing at the alarm clock which informed you that it was already mid-afternoon.

But you struggled to move your sore limbs, wincing at the dull ache between your thighs. Last night had been the culmination of Seungmin’s uncanny ability to leave you thoroughly shaken after sex. And tt had involved an entire bottle of whipped cream that was brought with your room service request and a messy combination of fruit and chocolate.

You shivered just thinking about it, stretching out your legs beneath the sheets, and you looked over at Seungmin who was still lying face-down in the pillows while snoring softly. His appearance was entirely innocent (unlike the previous evening), and it reflected the youthful features that had drawn you to him in the first place.

Seungmin was several years younger than you - a recent college graduate who had attained his veterinary license. He worked as an assistant at the same place where you had once been forced to interview because of an assignment from your company - a piece your head writer was working on that involved pet safety and the 10 warning signs that your dog might be suffering from an allergic itch.

But since the actual vet refused to meet with you (time constraints or whatever), the office secretary called out Seungmin who answered all of your questions with admirable patience and an attitude that immediately attracted your attention. He was just so good, hands folded neatly in his lap, and his smile was nothing short of professional as he spoke with you about anything your heart desired. Of course, you were intrigued - curious because you wondered if someone could really be that sweet and naive, or maybe it was just his general work attitude which he had learned to perfect during his residency.

Regardless, you were incredibly grateful that he had agreed to go on a date with you since the circumstances surrounding your meeting were entirely coincidental. From there, your relational was inevitable, and you learned that Seungmin was the epitome of the perfect student who never drank on the weekends and spent any free time with a book in hand. And it was around your third or fourth date when he had shyly admitted to you that he was very inexperienced when it came to dating.

“Seungmin,” you remembered saying to him. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re a virgin?”

His entire face turned as red as a tomato, spluttering around his words as he tried to justify his status, but you quickly assured him that it was perfectly fine. After all, one of the things that you liked best about Seungmin was his lack of a exhaustive dating profile. Because it told you that he was responsible, and he knew when to prioritize what really mattered to him. You also had a very small corruption kink, and the idea of teaching Seungmin everything that you knew about sex was exhilarating.

Of course, not everyone in your lives agreed with your relationship. For example, when you met his parents for the first time, you could tell that they disapproved of you and your work habits. Despite your attempts at conversation, you were met with short replies or dismissive rebuttals. But maybe it was because, at least according to Seungmin, they had initially tried to set him up with the daughter of one of their friends who Seungmin had met in grade school. And you were as far from that idealized persona as one could get.

But you also knew that his parents could never send you away because you had slowly fallen in love with Seungmin. Likewise, you were certain that nothing would ever pull the two of you apart, especially after he asked you to marry him - eager to start your new life together. Of course, you never expected for someone like Seungmin (normally patient to a fault) to immediately jump into wedding planning and do his very best to fast-track your ceremony date. He even put down a deposit on a new house in the suburbs. Plus, you knew that things had gotten serious when you both adopted a dog together....

You chuckled at the memory, rising from the comfortable bed in your hotel room to walk into the adjoining en-suite and assess last night’s damage. In the full-length mirror, you winced at the scattered bruises on your neck and shoulders (courtesy of a very eager Seungmin), and hissed when you pressed down too hard against a rather scandalous love-bite on your collarbone. It was safe to say that Seungmin was certainly no longer the innocent virgin you had met almost an entire year ago - he probably loved sex just as much as you did. Plus, his alcohol tolerance was almost as good as your own.

Still, it was almost amusing to watch him learn during your time together - like you were the hot teacher that he lusted after - listening with wide eye when you described some of your more explicit fantasies to him. After a while, Seungmin was no longer hesitant to reveal his own desires to you - including the food disaster from the previous evening.

But in the meantime, you tried to run a wet cloth along your exposed chest where there was a suspicious chocolate stain, catching sight of Seungmin in the mirror when the bathroom door reopened. “There you are,” you said, turning around to savor the image of a sleepy Seungmin walking inside wearing nothing but boxer shorts and a tired smile. You immediately walked up to him, quietly attempting to make some sort of style out of his messy bed-hair. “Hmmm, maybe we should just shower instead,” you suggested, taking his hand to guide him closer to the luxurious walk-in bath. “Would you like that, baby? I can wash your hair for you.”

Seungmin nodded eagerly, and you were perfectly endeared as the two of you enjoyed your final day together away from the real world.

Consequently, it was both a jarring, and deeply unappreciated, wake-up call to return to work the following Monday morning. You could barely pull yourself out of bed, and the only reason you managed to retain some semblance of sanity was because of the breakfast that Seungmin had prepared for you. But you were also slightly envious that he was handling everything in stride while you could barely lift your fork.

“Don’t forget that you’re meeting with the architect after work,” Seungmin reminded you as he sipped at his coffee.

“Oh, right,” you muttered. “Him.”

“Yes, him,” Seungmin concurred with a touch of amusement.

But who could blame you for harboring those feelings of resentment towards the arrogant and conceited man in charge of planning the infrastructure for your new house? He was constantly bothering you on the phone with the most trivial of details, and you were tired of hearing him describe the reasons why all of your ideas could never work with his grand scheme.

Sadly, it was tragically much too late to change your plans, and you and Seungmin were stuck with the pretentious prick until everything was done. Which might be next year if you’re lucky at the pace in which the whole project was progressing. It was slow-motion at best, like these men were trying to drain your savings account for the outrageous hourly rate they expected you to pay for them to stand around outside your house and joke about their wives.

It was one of the things that you hated the most about returning from your honeymoon, but the prospect of your office job was just as unappealing. Especially when you walked inside the newspaper’s main building and greeted your boss as he hovered near your desk - ready to hand out your first assignment without even giving you a moment to breathe.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Chan said.

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled while moving around Chan to sit down behind your desk. “What do you want?”

“Is that the way to greet your boss?” Chan asked. “You’ve been gone for two weeks!”

“I know,” you retorted. “And I wish it had lasted even longer.”

“Well,” Chan huffed. “I need you to have a better attitude.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” you snarked, and Chan rolled his eyes.

“I’ve prepared several assignments,” Chan said. “But you need to go out with Minho and Hyunjin this afternoon because the mayor’s delivering a speech today concerning his resignation.”

“I have to go to City Hall!” you complained because you knew that there would be thousands of journalists and reporters waiting to hear from the mayor, and you hated dealing with crowds.

“You can handle it,” Chan said, and he was already slinking away to bother your neighbor in the next cubicle.

Honestly speaking, it shouldn’t have been surprising because Chan often entrusted you with these more important pieces since you had worked at the paper for a long time, but since he already had Hyunjin and Minho working on the assignment, why was it also necessary to include you? Because maybe Chan had forgotten that this year marked your 10th anniversary with the newspaper, and perhaps you deserved a bit more leniency in regard to the assignments you chose for yourself. Especially after returning from a two-week vacation!

Unfortunately, your brain wasn’t quite in work-mode, and it had taken you half an hour just to remember all of your passwords!

“This isn’t fair,” you muttered to yourself as you smashed the elevator button.

Hyunjin had already sent you an email detailing information regarding the Uber that he had reserved to drive the three of you down to City Hall. Of course, why you couldn’t just use one of your cars was a mystery for another time, but Hyunjin often went above and beyond when he thought too deeply about a situation.

“There you are!” Minho said when you found them waiting together in the main lobby.

“Let’s get this over with,” you said. “Don’t forget your camera!”

“We’ve organized everything, Y/N,” Hyunjin reassured you as he threw a casual arm over your shoulders before you stepped outside together.

“What’s the big deal with this story?” you griped. “The mayor cheated on his wife with an intern and he’s being forced to resign. It’s not like he’s gonna come out and talk about it in front of the whole city!”

“But we’re still prepared for that!” Hyunjin said, and he waited until you were situated in the backseat of the Uber, squashed between him and Minho, before revealing his tape recorder. “Isn’t it great?”

“You could just whip out your cell phone,” you said, and Hyunjin paused for a moment as he considered your response.

“But this is a throwback, Y/N!”

“Save it for your Instagram stories, Hyunjin,” you said while scrolling through the home feed of your Twitter account. “Look at these videos! There’s already like a whole mob outside the building.”

“It won’t last very long, Y/N,” Minho said. “I’ll even treat everyone to some coffee when we’re finished.”

You tried to find some solace from Minho’s words, but your mind was wiped clean when the Uber paused at the edge of the sidewalk because the entire road was blocked by traffic. “Great, we’ll have to walk,” you said, and you should’ve known better than to expect anything less than optimal.

But it was still unnecessarily difficult to find a good spot when it seemed like the entire population had showed up to this press conference. “I’ll get some shots from the side,” Minho said, and you nodded while glancing back at Hyunjin.

“You’re tall enough to see over everybody,” you said. “Can you tell what’s happening?”

Hyunjin shrugged, and he attempted to balance himself on the very edge of his toes as he perused the crowd of onlookers. “I’m not sure...”

You sighed in frustration.

But what else should you expect?

“Welcome back to the real world, Y/N,” you grumbled, wincing when someone’s elbow connected with the back of your head.

It was already 6:00 by the time you arrived at the construction site of your future home, and you groaned when you realized that the front lawn was still nothing but mud and several piles of dirt.

For whatever reason, the project continued to encounter numerous and unanticipated obstacles that constantly delayed everything. You had seen setbacks from natural disasters to plumbing issues that forced you to reconsider the idea of renovating a dream home. But the biggest issue was definitely the architect in charge of the renovations, and he barely glanced up at you from over his stupid clipboard when you found him in the backyard.

“Mr. Park,” you greeted him, grimacing because you could’ve never imagined that the genteel man you had met several months ago, who seemed to understand everything you wanted, could be this foul person screaming at the workers. “Do you have an update?”

“Oh, Y/N,” Mr. Park grumbled. “How was your vacation?”

“Fine,” you said. “So nice of you to ask, but what about my house?”

“There’s been some issues with the foundation,” Mr. Park replied, and you could feel your patience thinning. “You might want to consider another delay in the schedule.”

“We’re supposed to move in at the end of the month,” you growled.

“Yeah, I know,” Mr. Park responded while scrolling through his phone - not even bothering to look at you. “But I think we need to check on some things, and the extra time would help..”

“Again!” you exclaimed because this would make the third instance of having to deal with another push-back.

“These things happen,” Mr. Park replied - like it wasn’t a big deal and you were the one who was overreacting!

But you didn’t quite see it as a minor inconvenience that everyone might face now and then. What you saw was a blatant misuse of the budget that you had set for the project, and you were certain that nobody else on the planet had ever suffered this much over simple renovations.

“We gave you several extensions,” you pointed out. “What’s wrong with the foundation?”

“It needs an inspection,” Mr. Park replied.

“We have someone coming over tomorrow,” you said.

“Good! They can see exactly what I’m talking about,” Mr. Park said. “But if you;ll excuse me for one moment...”

You groaned when Mr. Park walked around you to speak with the same electrician who had refused to return your greeting when you first walked onto the premises.

But maybe there was some kind of conspiracy against you?

In the meantime, you were relieved when your phone started ringing and you instantly recognized Seungmin’s number. “Hey,” you said into the receiver, turning around to glare at one of the construction workers.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said from the other end. “How's it going?”

“Horrible,” you muttered, and you took another step away when you realized that someone was actually working for once, but making far too much noise.

“Why?” Seungmin asked.

“They said we’ll need to expect another delay,” you said. “But I’m about to lose my mind, Seungmin. These guys are clearly taking advantage of us!”

“Y/N,” Seungmin said. “I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll come by in the morning and talk to everyone.”

“It’s not enough,” you retorted. “We’re obviously dealing with amateurs!”

“Y/N, darling,” Seungmin chuckled. “Can you just come home for me? I bought us a bottle of wine.”

You paused for a second, looking around before clearing your throat. “What kind?”

“The kind where you can get shitfaced if you want and forget about the project,” Seungmin said. “I’ll deal with everything from now on.”

It was too good of an offer to pass up, and you found yourself nodding enthusiastically even though holograms hadn’t been invented yet and Seungmin couldn’t possibly see you.

But those rude construction workers were observing every motion, and you resisted the urge to throw up your hands at them while you returned to your car. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

There were no feelings to describe your relief upon shaking off your heels and skipping into the kitchen where you found Seungmin attempting to balance two of your finest wine glasses and a bottle of pinot-noir between his hands.

“Let me help,” you said, taking the glasses from him as he shot you a grateful smile. “We can sit in the living room.

It was a fairly modest space, but you liked how cozy it felt during the winter - snuggling up next to Seungmin as the faux fireplace provided some semblance of the real thing. The decorations were also to your taste, and the deceiving simplicity served as a reminder of your personality itself. Someone who looked like an average reporter, but was full of surprises and ample fondness for her husband and alcohol.

You removed the cork on the bottle with care before pouring both yourself and Seungmin a glass. “Here,” you said, and he took it from you as your fingers brushed together.

“It had a good year on it,” Seungmin remarked, and you brought the rim of your own glass to your lips as you observed him from the corner of your eye. “Tell me about the renovations? What’s causing us so much trouble?”

“It’s not so much the problems, but the ones who need to fix them,” you said, and you grimaced at the reminder of the electrician’s attitude and Mr. Park’s dismissive tone.

“The inspector should be checking on things soon,” Seungmin said, and he quietly moved closer to you on the couch. “Are you excited?”

“Of course I am,” you said, and it was a true statement in spite of the issues you had with the construction men.

“I can’t wait to end our lease with his place,” Seungmin said, and you were amused when he finished off the remainder of his glass. “Lyric will be happier in a bigger space.”

You glanced over at your Pomeranian as she raised her head at the sound of her name. “Can we get a cat too?”

Seungmin grinned as he poured himself another glass of wine - he was well on his way to becoming the version of Seungmin who was extremely affectionate after a few too many glasses. “Whatever you want.”

“I’m holding you accountable for what you just said,” you remarked - noting how his eyes had grown glossy from the wine. “You look like you’re having a good time, darling.”

Seungmin grinned, and you reached out to take his glass before setting it aside on the coffee table. Because there was something else that you wanted, and it was far sweeter than your alcoholic selection. “Y/N,” Seungmin groaned once you settled in his lap - thighs spreading on either side of his own. His hands instantly found your waist, and you shivered at his touch before connecting your lips in a sloppy kiss.

But this was more than acceptable to you - settled on Seungmin’s lap as you made-out and savored the feeling of his tongue wrestling with yours as you exchanged heavy breaths. And in-between long, sensual kisses, the two of you took enough breaks to recover your lungs while finishing he entire bottle of wine.

The atmosphere between you was much more relaxed, but there was a slight tension that only heightened when Seungmin started brazenly touching every inch of bare skin that his fingers could find. But you didn’t mind his touchiness, and you welcomed an easy conversation as you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“You know my secretary at work?” Seungmin asked, holding you close as he fingered the edges of your shorts.

“Hmmm,” you acknowledged him vacantly, but you were far too busy marking colorful bruises along his collarbones.

“She broke up with her boyfriend,” Seungmin said, and he moaned when you rolled your tongue across a sensitive spot.

“Oh? Weren’t they together for a while?” you asked.

“Three years,” Seungmin confirmed. “They had even moved in together, but now she doesn’t have anywhere to stay.”

“Really?” you questioned, and Seungmin chuckled because it was obvious that you weren’t really listening to him.

“Y/N, I thought she could stay with us for a while,” Seungmin continued, and this time you did freeze in the middle of grazing your teeth along his collarbone - jerking back away from him in alarm.

“You want her to stay with us?”

“Just until she finds a new place,” Seungmin said, and he tried to pull you back closer to him, but you had been effectively pulled out of your prior ministrations.

“This is the same secretary that your parents tried to hook you up with, right?” you asked him, and Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Claire’s always been a good friend,” Seungmin said. “My parents weren’t expecting us to get together.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you said, and you frowned at the empty bottle of wine because you could really use some more alcohol for this conversation. “Were you ever going to talk to me about this?”

Seungmin narrowed his eyes, clearly taking offense at the accusation. “Aren’t we talking right now?”

“Yeah,” you said with a firm nod. “I guess we are talking about it, and I’m not comfortable with the idea of Claire staying with us.”

“She’s my friend, Y/N,” Seungmin insisted, and you knew that you had already lost this fight because Seungmin could never turn down someone in need. It’s why he made such an empathetic caregiver while you were sometimes considered the cold and abrasive type who fought large crowds at press conferences and wrote scolding reviews in the newspaper.

“Fine,” you huffed, and you stood up from Seungmin’s lap. “She can stay here since you insist.”

“Y/N-” Seungmin sighed, but you were already marching towards the bedroom where you intended to sleep off your hangover headache.

Nevertheless, you still woke-up with a start the following Saturday morning while a feeling of dread settled into the pit of your empty stomach.

There was every opportunity for you to throw the world’s biggest tantrum and refuse to leave your bed, but you were nearly 30-years-old and that sort of behavior was reprehensible. But you allowed yourself another moment or two while stewing over the argument that you had with Seungmin before you forced yourself to confront the inevitable.

Because Claire was moving in today, and she was lucky that you had a soft spot for Seungmin and hated to fight with him. Otherwise, she would still be in-between places, and you would still be staring at your husband’s back while he refused to cuddle with you in bed. It was nightmarish concept, and you shivered at the mere idea of furthering any sort of argument with Seungmin to the point where intimacy and affection were thrown out the back door.

But you also had to remind yourself that it was a good thing to be the bigger person when your husband felt like he was doing something nice for someone else, and you were still older and more mature than him under most circumstances. Even if you both agreed that the age-gap separating the two of you was nothing insurmountable.

You sighed as you dressed yourself in jeans and a t-shirt before following the familiar smell of coffee into the kitchen where Seungmin was already sitting at the table while reading the newspaper. He watched you carefully as you moved around the kitchen to fill up your coffee mug with the delicious-smelling beverage. It was a necessity when you first woke-up, and if you were going to get through this day, then plenty of coffee would need to remain in your system.

“You don’t have to stare,” you said after taking your first sip. “I’m not going to argue with you anymore.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to argue with me,” Seungmin said, and you heard the sound of his chair scraping against the floor as he moved it back.

And his arms felt nice around your waist, fitting his face between your neck and shoulder. “She’s your friend,” you said. “And it’s only temporary.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Seungmin said, and he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your temple.

“Should I keep Lyric in our room?” you asked while finishing the remainder of your coffee.

“Claire won’t mind,” Seungmin said as he stepped away from you to check his phone. “She’ll be here soon.”

“Is the guestroom ready?”

“I made sure there were fresh linens last night,” Seungmin said. “She’ll be comfortable.”

“Well,” you chirped while placing your empty mug in the sink. “This should be interesting.”

“Claire is really grateful,” Seungmin said. “And she’s glad that you agreed.”

“After some convincing,” you murmured, but Seungmin hadn’t heard your unnecessary comment. Instead, he was busy talking about some of his next appointments, perching himself on the edge of the counter to talk while you cleaned the rest of the dishes.

These were the moments that you cherished the most, but extraneous circumstances were against you on this particular day, and you couldn’t help the way your heart sunk when the doorbell rang. “Oh?” Seungmin said, hopping down from the counter. “She’s early.”

“I noticed,” you remarked, and you followed Seungmin into the next room as he opened the door and smiled when Claire popped her head inside.

“Minnie!” she squealed, and you held your tongue when Claire pulled Seungmin into a close embrace.

Weren’t her arms just a little too low around his waist?

“How are you, Claire?” Seungmin asked as they pulled apart.

“Oh, I’m better with you here,” Claire said, and her smile wavered when she spotted you standing off to the side. “It’s great to see you, Y/N.”

“You too, Claire,” you said with a forced smile as Seungmin reached down to take her bags like the gentleman that he insisted on being.

“You can just take the guest room,” Seungmin said, and you watched as they retreated further into the house as you shut the door behind them, breathing out a sigh as you prayed for the strength to endure whatever might happen next.

It was hardly tolerable, watching Claire move about the house as if she had been living here for her entire life.

She never asked permission to take food from the kitchen, and she deleted several episodes of your favorite show to make rooms for hers. Plus, she was unusually messy, and Seungmin insisted that the two of you should become glorified maids and pick up after her. But you could not afford to argue over this girl again, and you tried so hard to be on your best behavior, even when Claire insisted in sitting next to Seungmin when the three of you ate dinner or watched Netflix.

But the last thing in the world that you needed to add to your existing pressures was a phone call from Seungmin’s mother (who hated you with unprecedented distaste) telling you that she and Seungmin’s father would be joining you for dinner. “You should think about letting Claire take over in the kitchen,” she had said. “The potatoes last time were atrocious.”

In return, you gritted your teeth together and promised to do better before hanging up the phone. Then, you stormed off into your bedroom for the rest of the afternoon, burying your face against the pillows and trying your hardest not to scream. And it was where Seungmin found you when he got home from an emergency appointment - sprawled across the bed like you had given up on the world.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said, and he sat down at the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

“Stressed,” you muttered. “And I have a deadline tomorrow night for the stupid mayor article.”

“Darling,” Seungmin said, and you felt his fingers smooth across the bare skin of your thigh. “Isn’t it too early to start planning another vacation?”

“I wish we had never left the hotel,” you groaned. “Tropical paradise is a lot better than whatever the hell is going on in this apartment.”

Seungmin chuckled at your complaints. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Now I feel bad for inviting my parents over for dinner. Because I know that you and my mother have your...disagreements.”

“That’s an understatement,” you said, lifting your head from the pillow to look back over your shoulder at Seungmin. “Tell her I'm sick, and I have strict orders to stay in here all night.”

Seungmin scoffed at my appeal. “It’s only one dinner, Y/N,” Seungmin said. “I won’t even make you cook. Claire and I can take care of everything.”

But despite his polite sentiment, you recoiled at the idea of Seungmin and Claire cooking together - like a domestic scene out of a Hallmark film. That was supposed to be your job! Cooking with Seungmin while singing his favorite Day6 songs was a privilege that was only reserved for you!

“Okay,” you reluctantly agreed because you hated to sound petty.

But Seungmin still made you greet his parents at the door after nearly two hours of listening to him and Claire giggling together in the kitchen while making so much noise that your headache only worsened.

“Coming,” you shouted, and you reached over to take another Advil before forcing yourself to answer the insistent knocking.

Seungmin met you at the door with a smile, offering you a gentle kiss and a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder before you allowed the devil incarnate herself to walk inside with an exaggerated scream.

“SEUNGMIN!” his mother exploded, and you smirked when Seungmin ducked his head in embarrassment while his mother made a whole ordeal about fixing his hair and squeezing the plump arches of his cheekbones. “You look too skinny,” she said, frowning as she gave her son a quick once-over.

“Mom, I’m fine,” Seungmin said, and he gently pushed her hands away. “Was the traffic bad on the way over?”

“Oh, the usual,” his mother said, glancing back over her shoulder. “Your father is being unusually slow!”

Mr. Kim rolled his eyes, releasing a grunt as some kind of greeting before pushing his way inside the apartment. “Dad’s in a good mood,” Seungmin remarked, taking a step back while his mother made a big show of removing her outrageously enormous coat.

“Y/N, you can handle this right?” his mother asked while shoving her coat in your direction.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, watching as Seungmin’s mother squealed when she saw Claire coming out of the kitchen.

“What a delight!” Mrs. Kim said, and she embraced Claire like she was her long-lost daughter who had finally returned home. “You look ravishing, dear!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kim,” Claire said with a smile. “Dinner should be ready soon.”

You swallowed hard around the bitter taste of jealousy as you hung up the coat in your hands.

“How are you, Claire?” Mr. Kim asked as he offered an affectionate squeeze to Claire’s arm - a complete 180 from his earlier attitude. “Seungmin told us you were having problems.”

“Oh, yeah,” Claire said with a sigh. “Boyfriend troubles.”

“Again?” Mrs. Kim asked with a sympathetic frown. “Poor dear.”

Yeah, she just has the worst life! Feeling up your husband all the time while taking advantage of your hospitality!

“We’ll have lots of time to talk over dinner,” Mrs. Kim said, and she followed Claire into the kitchen while chatting away about something that probably wasn’t even that important.

“I’m sorry,” Seungmin whispered to you, but you simply shook your head.

“I know how to handle your mother,” you said. “I’ve had lots of practice.”

Seungmin chuckled as he brushed his nose against yours. “I told them we have plans after dinner, so hopefully they won’t stay long.”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Let me set the table.”

Seungmin nodded and allowed you to leave the safety of his arms for the perilous Lion’s Den of the kitchen. Thankfully, both Claire and Mrs. Kim were far too occupied with themselves to notice while you gathered a stack of plates and silverware for the table. But it wasn’t necessarily Mrs. Kim’s dismissal that bothered you because the woman had been your biggest detractor ever since you had first met.

Instead, you were bothered by her seemingly endless affection for Claire. Especially when you remembered an occasion where you had overheard a conversation between Seungmin and his mother that wasn’t meant for your ears. Because the older woman had the audacity to ask her son why he couldn’t have settled for Claire. “She’d be so much better for you, Seungmin,” Mrs. Kim had said, and somehow you managed to hold it together because the last thing you had wanted was to have some kind of breakdown and expose yourself.

But you had never forgotten the encounter, and you could feel yourself growing more and more irritated as you watched Mrs. Kim stumble into the dining room with Claire who dropped down an enormous pot at the center of the table. “Enjoy!” Claire said. “I made Seungmin’s favorite”

And despite the presence of your husband’s hand on your thigh, you couldn’t help the stirrings of genuine anger ruining whatever appetite you might’ve had. “It looks amazing!” Mrs. Kim said. “What do you think, honey?”

Mr. Kim nodded while loading his plate with enough food to feed everyone sitting around the table. “Eat as much as you want!” Claire said.

“Especially you, Seungmin,” Mrs. Kim said. “Why, you’re just skin and bones these days! Is Y/N not taking care of my son?”

“Mom!” Seungmin grimaced, and he shot me a worried look. “It’s my fault! I’ve been really busy with work.”

“Well, Y/N should make sure that you don’t overwork yourself,” Mrs. Kim remarked. “Claire was just telling me how she had to drag Seungmin out of his office for lunch the other day.”

Your fingers tightened around your fork, and there was a sharp retort waiting on the edge of your tongue, but marriage must’ve taught you a great deal about patience because you managed to exhale and smile. “I’m glad someone can look out for Seungmin while I’m not around,” you said, and there was subtle twitch in Mrs. Kim’s eye that told you she wasn’t happy that you were still in control.

“Y/N always takes care of me,” Seungmin said, and you practically preened under his touch as his fingers started to lightly massage the back of your neck.

“Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Mrs. Kim said. “What do you think, Mr. Kim?”

But Seungmins’ father merely grunted around his food again, clearly disinterested in the conversation, and your husband leaned in to press a sweet kiss to your lips that you returned with as much passion as possible to remind everyone at the table that you weren’t going anywhere.

But once Seungmin’s parents had left, you trudged into your bathroom to take a much-needed shower, savoring the scalding water on your skin.

It was everything you needed, and you were so lost in your own mind that you barely heard the sound of the door opening. In fact, the husk trill of Seungmin’s voice startled you when he raised his voice to be heard over the noise: “Do you mind if I join?”

“Like, without your clothes on?!”

“That’s the idea,” Seungmin said with a laugh, and you were groaning because your husband always had an uncanny ability to discombobulate you.

“Okay,” you eventually said, and you could hear him shuffling around from behind the curtain before he was moving himself in behind you while running his fingers against your sides.

“This is better,” Seungmin said, and his lips mimicked the effects of the water droplets as he pressed dozens of kisses against your shoulder. “I’m sorry about my parents.”

“Well, I’m used to it,” you said, moaning around the words when his teeth dug into the flesh of your neck.

“You’re so good to me,” Seungmin said. “Should I reward you?”

“I don’t know... you trailed off, turning around in his arms to press your lips together. “I kinda feel like rewarding you instead.”

Seungmin’s cock hardened in interest against your thigh, and you reached down between your bodies to give his erection several strokes of your hand. “What kind of reward?” Seungmin asked, and you took your lower lip between your teeth as you concentrated on digging your thumb into the sensitive slit of his cock.

“I really want this in my mouth,” you said, and Seungmin groaned while his gaze grew darker.

“What are you waiting for?”

His voice was several octaves deeper, and you felt the heavy rumbles against your chest as you lowered yourself onto your knees. Your hands reached out to grab his thighs as support, leaning in close to leave a gentle kiss to the base of his cock. “Is this what you want?”

“Do it before I lose my patience,” Seungmin said, and his fingers quickly tangled themselves in your hair.

“Oh, really?” you smirked - leaning in close to run your tongue along the prominent vein of his erection.

“Please,” Seungmin added, almost as an afterthought when the warm cavern of your mouth enveloped his cock, taking in as much as you could until you felt him at the back of your throat.

“Shit, Y/N,” Seungmin gasped, and his fingers kept a harsh hold in your hair as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

For the most part, you allowed him to control the pace, letting him take over your movements and roughly thrust his hips while forcing his cock down further into the back of your throat. Thankfully, you never had much of a gag reflex, and Seungmin took full advantage of this as he all but fucked your mouth with barely restrained grinds of his hips.

You were on cloud nine, lost in a submissive head-space, until the sudden entrance of an unexpected visitor had you choking around his erection. “Excuse, me!” Claire said, and she was shameless as she strolled inside. “Don’t mind my intrusion!” Claire exclaimed, and you sat back on your ass with a disgruntled sigh. “I didn’t have enough shampoo in the other bathroom.”

“You’re fine,” Seungmin said, and he gave you an apologetic stare that you ignored with a frown.

“Oh, Seungmin!” Claire giggled. “I thought Y/N was in here?”

“Did you find what you needed?” Seungmin grimaced, and Claire had enough decency to respond with an affirmative before closing the door again. “Y/N,” Seungmin said, and he looked mortified even though his cock was still hard. “Darling, I-”

“Save it,” you snapped, standing up from the shower while slapping away his outstretched hand. “You can take care of that yourself!”

“Y/N,” Seungmin tried again, but you were fed up with this entire night, wrapping a towel around your body as you left him behind for the familiar darkness of your bedroom.

You could barely concentrate the next day at work, and you were starting to grow annoyed with your colleagues. For whatever reason, everyone needed your help, and you were beyond annoyed with the situation. But you reached your tipping point in the middle of the afternoon, and you surrendered the metaphorical white flag to leave work early after experiencing one of the worst headaches known to mankind.

“You’re leaving?” Chan had exclaimed while messing around with a bunch of files on his desk. “But the deadlines-”

“Chan,” you interrupted him with a scowl. “Everything’s taken care of, okay? Please let me go before I fall over in the middle of your office.”

“Fine, but it’s coming out of your paycheck,” Chan grumbled, and you shook your head because he was an asshole sometimes.

Originally, you thought to have lunch with Seungmin in your newfound spare time, but when you arrived at the vet’s office, you were informed that Seungmin was in the middle of an emergency surgery.

“Do you want have lunch together instead?” Claire asked with a pleasant smile.

“Uh, sure,” you said, even though you weren’t exactly thrilled by the idea.

But you were trying to be nice for the sake of your husband, and it was with great reluctance that you trailed after Claire into a small diner near the main office where you perused the menu with a disinterested sigh.

“Everything is fresh here,” Claire informed you.

“Oh, good,” you said in a half-hearted effort at conversation.

But Claire must’ve caught on to your bad mood because she suddenly put down her menu and regarded you with a curious look. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really,” you said. “I actually have no reason to be unhappy.”

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

You froze when she posed the question, refusing to look up from the table. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m not blind,” Claire said. “I know you aren’t entirely accepting of me barging in your domestic life with Seungmin and ruining everything.”

“T-that’s not true,” you spluttered.

“I’m not offended,” Claire assured you. “But after what Mrs. Kim said last night, you deserve to feel pissed off or upset or whatever you want because that woman is a lot to handle.”

You were stunned by her casual words because this was the last thing you expected to hear from Claire. “I guess all mothers are overbearing.”

“But Seungmin’s is the worst,” Claire said. “When we were in college, Seungmin’s mother forced him to come home every weekend just to make sure he wasn’t involved with any parties.”

“Really?”

“But she’s done much worse,” Claire said, and her gaze shifted. “It must make you uncomfortable to hear her talking about me and Seungmin, but I want you to know that you have no reason to worry.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there was a time when I did have a crush on Seungmin, and his parents were always encouraging me to take him out,” Claire said. “But then he told me about this mystery girl he met at the office...”

Claire broke off with a sigh, and you swallowed hard. “Claire...”

But she fixed you a meaningful look. “Y/N, I knew I was a goner when I took Seungmin out for lunch and all he talked about was you.”

It was a powerful statement, even if you hadn’t been expecting the confession, and there was a lightness somewhere inside of you that was comparable to the delicate feeling of butterflies in one’s stomach. “I didn’t know about that.”

“Yeah, well, I was the only one treating it like a date,” Claire said. “But, seriously, Y/N, you make Seungmin incredibly happy, and I support you guys 100% because he’ll always be the friend I want to protect.”

She offered your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you, Claire.”

“I meant every word,” she said. “And please don’t trouble yourself anymore because I have plans to move out with some friends in the near future. You and Seungmin can have as much shower sex as you want after I’m gone.”

You immediately started choking on the very oxygen that you needed to breath, and Claire laughed at the predicament before flagging down your waiter for a necessary glass of water.

It was late when Seungmin came home from work, and Claire had already slipped out to be with some friends for the evening.

“Y/N?”

“Bathroom,” you called back to him, checking over your surprise with a satisfied nod.

“Y/N,” Seungmin said, and he smiled at you as he walked inside before widening his eyes in surprise. “Did you do this?”

“Of course,” you said, and you walked over to close the door before cornering him against the sink, fingers working rapidly over his buttons. “It’s necessary for your clothes to be off, darling.”

It was a cheeky call-back to his comment from your intimate moment the night before, and Seungmin smirked before taking over from you. “Handle yourself,” he said, and you reached down for the hem of your t-shirt while the both of you worked to remove all your layers.

“Better,” you said, leaning against him as you allowed one hand to trail all the way down from his chest before skimming his cock which twitched in interest at your familiar touch. “So handsome,” you assured him, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss while reaching around to give his ass a little squeeze. “Get in the water,” you said, and he obeyed while a trail of saliva fell between your swollen lips.

And once Seungmin was settled beneath the steaming surface, you lowered yourself down in front of him, leaning back against his chest with a pleasant sigh. “This is perfect, Y/N,” Seungmin said while his arms wrapped around you.

“We have wine as well,” you said, reaching over for the bottle.

“God, you’re amazing,” Seungmin said, and he took a glass from you once you managed to pour the sparkling alcohol without spilling it all over the floor.

“But what’s this all about?” Seungmin asked, tipping back his wine glass while his other hand trailed across your stomach.

“I thought I would spoil you.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” Seungmin said. “I love doing these things with you.”

“Mhmm,” you agreed while drinking your wine. “It’s been a hectic week.”

“It’ll be over soon,” Seungmin said, and he set aside his wine glass to free his hands so that his fingers could massage across your breasts. “I also spoke to Mr. Park about the house, and I think I convinced him to see reason with our original deadline.”

“Really?” you questioned. “How did you manage that?”

“I may have raised my voice,” Seungmin said. “There were also some unpleasant words exchanged.”

“Seungmin!” you gasped, and he scoffed at your mock sarcasm.

“Not even a thank you?” Seungmin pouted, and you made sure to whisper one against his lips.

“I’m gonna treat you in return later on, darling,” Seungmin said, and you shivered when one of his fingers delicately penetrated the tight walls of your cunt while his erection dug into your lower back.

“I love you so much,” you moaned, leaning your head back even further to accept another passionate kiss.

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