#his hair is only semi short for now but who knows maybe he will lose his scissors some day ... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

scuttling · 3 years

Text

Lavender

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 9,244 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad's Best Friend Friend From Work Hotch, Me turning a naughty, smutty story into something way more aka my specialty, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Oral sex, Semi-public sex, Office sex Summary: You absolutely dread going home for vacation, to your sickeningly cheery childhood bedroom and opinionated parents, but meeting your dad's friend from work at a stuffy cocktail party has the potential to make this a vacation you'll never forget.*Requested by anon, severely altered by me 😅 Link to A03 or read below! Most people would jump at the chance for an unexpected two week vacation, but you are not most people. When your boss emailed you to inform you that there had been some kind of glitch in HR’s system and you actually had two weeks of paid vacation that were set to expire, your anxiety had kicked into high gear. There isn’t enough time to coordinate travel with any of your friends, too short notice, and you’re kind of afraid to travel alone, though you’d never admit it, so that’s out.

There’s always the prospect of hanging out at home, catching up on all the shows you started but never had time to finish, doing things you’re always too busy for, like cooking and cleaning out your closet and going to the animal shelter to pet the dogs and cats.

Unfortunately, those dreams are crushed when you accidentally let slip during a call to your parents that you have the time off, and they literally insist you come home, will not let you get off the phone without confirming your plans.

You only live about an hour away from them, but for one reason or another, you rarely visit.

The minute you step into your childhood home, you’re reminded of why you rarely visit.

“There’s my little do-gooder!” Your dad is all but waiting at the door when you arrive, pulls you into a hug despite the fact that your hands are full of luggage. “Let me look at you.” He pulls back, hands on your shoulders, acting like it's possible something has changed about you since you had lunch together a month ago in DC. “Oh, you’ve got that serious lawyer hairstyle now,” he remarks with a chuckle, even though your hair is styled the same way it was at that lunch. He might not mean it to come out this way, but it sounds condescending.

“That would be appropriate, considering I am a lawyer,” you remark, trying to keep the snark out of your tone. You know he always means well. “You look good.” He takes his hands off of you and puts them on his stomach.

“Your mom has me on some kind of greens and beans diet, says it will help me live longer.” You smile, a little awkward, not sure what to say about that—your dad is typically the meat and potatoes type, so you figure some variety can’t hurt, but if you say that you’ll never hear the end of it, and you’ve already got a headache.

“Where is mom, anyway?” You shift your bag on your shoulder, and your dad clues in, takes it from you and starts walking up the staircase.

“Oh, she’s at the gym, then taking care of some last minute things for the party.” You pause at the base of the stairs, sigh softly.

“Party?” You weren’t told about any party. Your dad keeps walking, and you’re forced to follow.

“Yeah, nothing major, just some people from the office and their spouses coming over for drinks tonight. Maybe some of their kids,” he adds innocently, and you can’t help rolling your eyes.

By kids, he means sons: eligible sons to try to set you up with. You wouldn’t mind being in a room full of hot, single men vying for your attention any other time—in fact, it’s been a little while, and your most recent hookup was lackluster, so you’re a bit more tightly wound than usual—but the kinds of men your parents bring around aren’t your type at all. You’re career driven yourself, but all they want to talk about is how they plan to be the youngest partner at their firm, or the clubs they can get into, or worst of all, money. Your potentially somewhat relaxing vacation just went to shit in no time at all.

“I didn’t bring anything to wear to a cocktail party.”

“I think mom got you a dress, honey. Check your closet after you get unpacked.” He pushes the door to your former bedroom open, and you’re assaulted by the color lavender; somehow you’d actually forgotten how purple it is. “You’ll look beautiful no matter what you wear.” He sets your bag on the bed—oh god, the frilly purple comforter, you may have actually repressed that memory—and you drop your other luggage there too. “I’ll give you some time to get settled in, maybe order some lunch for us? Vesuvios?”

As irritated as you are about the party, it’s sweet that he remembers your favorite restaurant. You went there for dinner after you graduated from high school, college, and law school, so there are lots of great memories associated with the place.

“Do they adhere to the greens and beans diet?” you ask with a grin, and he puts his finger up to his lips to silence you.

“What mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” You shake your head fondly, and he slips out of your room and leaves you to it.

You start unloading your clothes into the empty dresser, hanging them in the closet that holds things like your prom dresses, graduation gowns, old cheerleading and volleyball uniforms. Every touch of silky fabric is a memory, and at this point in your life most of them are good, even if they weren’t at the time. It’s kind of nice to remember where you came from, when where you are now can be so hectic, so fast-paced you don’t see the forest for the trees.

Feeling nostalgic, you walk over to your desk, where you spent so much time with your face crammed into textbooks it’s not even funny, and flip through your old stationary set—what teenager had her own stationery? You were a total nerd—and photos you’d taken off the mirror but left sitting in a pile to be packed away eventually.

You snap out of the past after that, finish putting your toiletries away, setting up your laptop and chargers where you want them, then shove your empty suitcases in the closet and grab your phone to head downstairs.

You meet up with your dad in the kitchen, where he is opening steaming takeout containers full of Italian food. You grab some plates from the overhead cabinet and lean against the counter, look over the offerings to decide what you’ll have.

“So how are things at the ACLU?” he asks with a bit of a teasing tone. You’re well aware of the fact that he thinks you could be doing more—translation: making more—in private practice, or working for the government like he does, but neither of those things interest you and he is well aware of that.

“They’re really good, actually. We’re working on a disability rights case now that will probably make national news if we win.” It’s been forever since you had penne arrabbiata, since it’s not very easy to eat at your desk without running the risk of staining your blouse with spicy red sauce, so you load up your plate with it, add wilted spinach for color, a piece of garlic bread because it’s garlic bread. You lick your thumb, and your dad points a finger in your direction in that way that means he’s about to give you life advice.

“When you win; if you’re not confident about your capabilities, no one else will be.” You roll your eyes good-naturedly, nod, because that’s a pro tip you’ve heard time and time again. “If you came to work at the bureau, you’d win more of your cases; Constitutional law isn’t easy.” He says that like you don’t already know, like you haven’t been working in your current department for more than a year. You sigh.

“I’m not really the bureau type, dad.” You take your plate over to the breakfast table, sit down and start to pick at your food. Arguing about your chosen career path is enough to make you lose your appetite, even for your favorite dish. Your dad follows, sits across from you.

“You’re so smart, honey, you could be if you wanted to.” He takes a bite of fettuccine alfredo, points his fork at you. “Hey, maybe you could talk to Jim from the Office of General Counsel tonight—or maybe Aaron. You’d be really interested in the work his team does.”

“Who’s Aaron again?” You don’t recognize the name, so he’s probably not one of the attorneys on your dad’s team, but he works closely with so many departments you might have heard it before and missed it.

“Friend from work. He’s the unit chief at the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They’re criminal psychologists or something. Profilers,” he says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what they call them. They get into criminals’ heads, analyze them and interrogate them. I know you minored in psychology, I bet he could get you an internship.” You laugh at that, because he always gives you advice about furthering your career, but that’s a step backward for you and he can't be so dense not to realize it.

“An internship? I’m a little old for that, don't you think? Not to mention I have a job that I love.” You stab at your food, more than a little agitated by the current conversation.

“Never too late to get your foot in the door, sweetie. It’d be great to see you more, that’s all I’m saying,” he adds, ending on a gentler note, and you sigh. Your mom does it too, but your dad is an expert into guilting you into doing what he thinks is best. Unfortunately, you’ve never handled guilt very well.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, if it means that much to you,” you promise, and you both smile and make easy small talk for the rest of the meal. The dress your mom bought for you for the party is a black, sleeveless, designer cocktail dress, something more form fitting than you would normally wear—she is evidently trying very hard to find you an eligible bachelor tonight. You pair it with your favorite jewelry, simple heels, and when you head downstairs your mom acts like it’s prom night all over again.

“Oh sweetie, you look so beautiful!” She puts her hands on your arms, spins you around. “You’re looking too thin—must be eating a lot of salads on that paralegal salary,” she throws over her shoulder to your dad, and they both laugh. You wish life were a documentary so there was a camera you could look into with an unimpressed expression.

“I’m a staff attorney actually. Fully accredited,” you add, but it’s no use. If you don’t follow in your dad’s footsteps, you will always be seen as living beneath your potential, and therefore always the butt of these types of jokes.

You love them, really, and you know they love you, but they are not the most supportive pair by a long shot. They made sure you got into a great college, let you follow your law school dreams—and you’re grateful, won’t deny their money is a privilege so many other people in your position do not possess—but that was only because those were their dreams as well. As soon as you told them about taking the position at the ACLU, it was like the tables were turned, and instead of your accomplishments, all they saw was wasted potential.

It’s enough to keep you away most of the time, which sucks, but it is what it is. It’s easier to love them from afar, so that’s what you do.

At the party, you shake hands, talk about the weather, introduce yourself to so many middle aged white guys and their sons that their faces all start to blur together. After half an hour you excuse yourself, head to the bar for a drink, and come to stand next to a middle aged white guy you have not introduced yourself to—this one, you’d have remembered, because he is tall, broad, serious looking, and very handsome.

If you were a dog, he’d have your ears perking up, no doubt about that. Instead, your heart just races a little.

“I have to say, these FBI parties are even less fun than I thought they’d be,” you comment as you wait for your drink. The man lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile.

“Get a bunch of men who are past their prime in one room, and all you hear about are the glory days. Can’t get a word in edgewise.” The bartender hands you your glass, and you turn to fully face the stranger.

“Why aren’t you talking about your glory days?” You immediately kind of want to slap yourself. Your social skills have been exhausted tonight, apparently. “I’m sorry, that was rude; I didn’t mean to insinuate that you’re… past your prime.” You give him a brief once over, because he deserves it, is even more gorgeous up close than you’d initially assessed; he chuckles softly, sips on his own drink.

“It wasn’t rude, it was… shrewd.” His own gaze lingers on your face, maybe the neckline of your dress, just a little. “Your father’s really happy you’re here, wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

“Yeah, he's one of the most ambitious people I know; he gets an idea in his head and won’t rest until he’s seen it through.” It’s a quality that sounds good on paper, but when it’s constantly being applied to your life, it’s more tiring than anything. “Right now he’s trying to get me to bully one of these poor guys into giving me an internship, as if I’m not twenty-nine years old with a career of my own.” He wets his lips, laughs again.

“I think I’m the poor guy—Aaron Hotchner. I’m the unit chief overseeing the BAU.” Wow, 0 for 2. This guy’s got to think you’re a complete idiot. He extends a hand and you shake it firmly, melt a little because his palm is so broad, his fingers so thick.

“Right, I’m so sorry. Feel free to tell me right now that I’m not the right fit, and I’ll slink off and hide in a corner somewhere for the rest of the night.”

“No need for that. You strike me as someone who would be a great fit for my team, if that was something you actually wanted.”

You aren’t looking for a career change in the slightest, but you can’t deny it would be tempting to report to this man every day.

“It’s not that I’m not curious about what you do; my dad told me a little, and it sounds really intriguing. I just have a lot on my plate right now. If the offer had come up before I started my current job, I would be all over it.” You smile, shrug. “Unless you could have me intern for the next two weeks I’ll be on vacation, I’ll have to politely decline the offer you haven't actually made me.” You smile, and so does he.

“Now who’s ambitious?” he asks with a raised eyebrow; the way he says it, like he finds it charming, makes your face heat a little. You’ve never connected like this at one of your dad’s FBI events, and even though there’s no way it ends well—if anything even starts—you feel the need to see how far you can go. Even if it’s just a little flirting. Even if it’s just tonight.

“Have you ever been here before tonight?” you ask after a beat. You take a sip of your drink, and he mirrors you. You lean in a little closer.

“Once, briefly. I didn’t get a grand tour, or anything.” You smile—bingo—and reach out to place a hand on his arm.

“Oh, I’d be happy to give you one, if you like. Usually my dad is all about it, but he looks occupied.” You both glance across the room at where he is in the middle of a group of men—still discussing their glory days, no doubt—and Aaron looks at you again, nods.

“Sure, I’d love one.” You show him around downstairs, the backyard, the garage—he doesn’t seem to care about the cars at all—and then go upstairs, show him guest rooms, the master bath your mother recently remodeled; he gets a little closer as you go, and you smile more, flirt a bit. You stop outside the door to your room, block it with your body while you talk about the art hanging in the hall; he’s very good at reading your body language, apparently, because he leans closer to you, puts his hand on the doorknob next to your hip.

“What’s this room?” he asks, feigning innocence, and you put your arm over his.

“Oh, no, we’re not going in there. That’s my old bedroom.” He smiles, and you grimace.

“You mean the room I most want to see now? Come on.” He turns the knob, hears it click, and you cover your face with your hand, sigh.

“This is going to be really embarrassing. It’s exactly the way it looked when I went to college, and that was over ten years ago.” You push the door open with your hand, walk in and flick on the light. Aaron follows, chuckles.

“It’s... purple. Cute.” He makes toward the bed, touches one of the frills on the comforter with his big, broad hand. The juxtaposition of your innocent lavender bedding being stroked by the fingers you can’t stop staring at is a very interesting one.

“No, it’s not cute, it’s horrifying,” you say, and when he walks toward the open closet, you begin to regret this little tour. He pulls out your prom dress, your cheerleading uniform.

“Cheerleader, huh? You don’t seem the type.” He looks over at you, and you push it back into the closet, lead him away from it with your hands on his arms.

“I’m not. It was important to my mom.” The two of you are by your dresser now, and he leans in to look in the mirror, at you standing behind him and not his own reflection.

“I see. Do you always put other people's needs before your own?” You sidle up next to him, and he turns to face you.

“This is what you do, right? You… deduce for a living? Like Sherlock?” That makes him laugh, which in turn makes you smile.

“It’s called profiling, but that’s accurate enough.” You feel a challenge brewing inside you, take a step closer to him.

“Okay… What can you tell me about myself by looking around the room? Remember, this stuff is from ten years ago; a lot could have changed.” He crosses his arms, nods.

“You’re right, but your core values wouldn’t have.”

Slowly, he walks around the room, taking things in, touching things, looking back at you briefly and then rifling through parts of your past. It’s a few minutes before he speaks again.

“I think your father wants you to work at the bureau, and you don’t want to because you’ve always felt like you’d live in his shadow if you followed the same career path. You want to blaze your own trail, do what fulfills you, not let his last name be what moves you up the ladder.”

That’s all scarily true, so you nod, cross your arms, lean your butt against your desk.

“I think you’re afraid of commitment because you don’t think any relationship you’re in will ever measure up to what your parents have.” That stings a little, but he’s not wrong. He points to a flyer stuck to a cork board, something about a charity project you’d worked on that revolved around recycling. “Environmentally conscious: I bet you drive a hybrid, and if your dad bought it for you, it’s a... BMW.”

He glances back, and you encourage him to go on. He points to a copy of your Georgetown diploma hanging on the wall, then picks up a cheerleading trophy on your dresser.

“You were a cheerleader to please your mom, went to Georgetown to please your dad, excelled at both; you’re an only child, so you felt you couldn’t let them down. My question is,” he says, looking up at you curiously, “what pleases you?” The words make your heart beat fast; you lick your lips, tilt your head.

“Not much.” He comes closer, arms crossed again.

“Why?” God, that’s a loaded question for a Friday night, for the first day of your vacation. You absently wonder if he’s going to bill you for this impromptu therapy session.

“I find it difficult to ask for what I want,” you ultimately say, and he moves even closer. His stare is probing, and you speculate that he may have been a lawyer before the FBI. The look on his face is the same one you’ve seen in many courtrooms over your short career.

“Of course you do. You’ve never done it before. You've spent your whole life asking other people what they want from you.”

You feel very seen, and you kind of hate it, but you also kind of like it—that he’s able to dissect you like this is a huge turn on. What that says about you, you’re not entirely sure; maybe that you enjoy being seen for who you are—for all that you are—instead of who you know, or who you could have been, for a change.

“I think you didn’t lose your virginity until college—your second year.” It feels like bringing that up is a bold move for him; he doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it. “I would guess you got drunk for the first time around then, too. Your first year you were trying to navigate the feeling of not being under anyone’s thumb anymore; your second year, you finally felt like your own woman, you wanted to try new things, but it made you feel out of control and you don’t like that. Even now you only drink socially, never to get drunk.” He is directly in front of you now, and he reaches out a hand, brushes it over your cheek. “I also think you gravitate toward men you find inappropriate and unattainable so you don’t have to worry about being the reason your relationships fail.”

He looks into your eyes with a questioning gaze. It’s a painfully accurate take, but he softens the blow with the gentle touch.

“Wow, you’re kind of an asshole,” you breathe, but you smile, and he laughs low.

“Maybe. But am I wrong?” You nod your head, and his face falls a little, so you narrow your eyes to mess with him a bit.

“Only about one thing: I actually drive a Kia hybrid. And I bought it myself, for your information.” He smiles, and you press your hands against his chest; it’s crazy how quickly he drops back into the serious expression you first saw him wearing by the bar. “Are you unattainable and inappropriate?”

“I work with your father; we’re the same age. We play golf together sometimes.” He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, doesn’t back away or remove your hands. You slide them down his body, over his stomach, stop at his belt, and he looks the way you feel: tightly wound, aroused, a little breathless.

“That doesn’t really answer my question, Aaron. May I do some profiling of my own?” You look up at him, curious, and he nods.

“Be my guest,” he murmurs, and you lean back. You rake your eyes over his body slowly—there’s no mistaking your appraisal for what it is. “No ring on your finger, but there’s no way you haven’t been married before. My guess is you’re divorced, and it wasn’t your idea.” You look up at his face, smile softly. “Sorry. You weren’t exactly pulling punches either.” He huffs a laugh.

“You’re right: I wasn’t pulling punches. You’re right about the divorce, too. Go on.” You nod, hum.

“Okay. You have a strong moral compass; you always do what’s right, even when it’s difficult. It’s what makes you such a great leader for your team. You like to go by the book, you’re a Fed through and through—but when it comes down to the bureau or the people you care about, you’ll fight the establishment with all you have. You aren’t a blind believer in the government; you have your criticisms, and you aren’t shy about voicing them.”

“Unlike your father,” he says, and you sigh. “You don’t have an appreciation for his work.”

“No, I really don’t.” Your dad specializes in Freedom of Information Act litigation—he does his best to keep the FBI from actually living up to its commitment to be transparent with the American people, and it doesn’t sit right with you, never has. You may both be attorneys, but you could not be more different if you tried. “But I’m profiling you, remember?”

“Right. Please continue.”

“This might be going out on a limb, but I think you went to law school. The way you speak, and the way you looked at me earlier? It was a little like cross-examination. Am I right about that?” His answering smile actually looks pleased.

“You are. I was a prosecutor for a number of years before joining the FBI. I think it’s something you don’t ever really lose.”

“For better or worse,” you say with a smile of your own. Happy with your assessment, you move a little closer again. “One more thing. I don’t think you’re the kind of man who would normally let a woman take you into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing her. Childhood or otherwise.” You smooth your hands down either side of his tie, over his firm chest and solid midsection. “Maybe you saw something in me you liked?”

“I was... dreading coming here tonight.” He brings his hands up to cover yours, but doesn’t pull them away, just holds them. “If you’ve been to one of these parties, you’ve been to them all—no offense to your father—and I was contemplating a good excuse to leave early, if I’m being honest. Then you showed up at my side—my friend’s mysterious daughter that I’ve heard so much about—and you’re funny, and charming. Insightful. Vulnerable.” He squeezes your hands, presses them closer to his chest. “Beautiful. It’s been a long time since I’ve looked at someone and felt an instant connection. Do you feel it?” His voice is just above a whisper, and you nod lightly.

You aren’t the type of woman to take a man into her bedroom after less than an hour of knowing him, childhood or otherwise, but he makes you want so badly you’re almost ravenous—you’ve felt this way before, maybe twice in your life, but neither of those experiences ended with you getting what you wanted. You really hope this time might be different.

“Kiss me?” He takes a breath and then presses his lips together.

“I shouldn’t.”

“I know. But will you?” After a beat, he does, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, moving his hands to your face as he deepens it.

It’s not a hard kiss, but rough around the edges, your noses pressed together, mouths seeking contact even as you pull apart for breath. He kisses like he needs it, tastes like bourbon, feels like heaven; it’s steamy, wet, makes your chest heave and your pussy throb. When he walks you backward, gently presses your body against your desk, you hop up onto it easily and pull him closer, between your spread knees.

“Aaron,” you sigh over his lips, and his hands move to your thighs, pushing up your dress so he can get closer to you. You glide your fingers through his hair, plant a hand on the desk, then feel something tip over, hear the soft sound of paper sliding over the edge.

Aaron looks down, picks up a lavender envelope; he holds it up with a question in his eye and an enamored look on his face.

“‘From the desk of…’ You had personalized stationery at eighteen?” His mouth is a little red from the kiss still, and he’s teasing you, perfect; you smile, can’t believe this is happening.

“I liked to write to my congressman… and Ruth Bader Ginsburg,” you pant. He chuckles, kisses you a little softer than before, then moves down your throat, sweeps his tongue over your pulse. “Mmm. Right there.”

He pauses to look up at you, hair mussed from your fingers, and you push his jacket off his shoulders; he shifts to full height, helps you take it off, and you drape it over your desk chair, work the knot of his tie loose.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks as your fingers slip down the front of his shirt, freeing his buttons. You unclasp his belt, open his pants, and stretch up for a kiss, touching his face; you nod when you pull back.

“Absolutely. Are you?” He nods too, all serious eyebrows you want to kiss, mouth you want back on yours, on your throat, anywhere.

“Absolutely.” You step down off the desk, run your hands over his arms, then kick off your shoes and walk over to the door, close and lock it; when you pass him again, you guide him to the bed and sit in his lap, clutch at his shoulders and kiss him with as much desperation as he showed you before. There’s a lot of heavy breathing, sighing, moans from you both, and if just kissing is this good, you can’t imagine what he’ll be like inside of you.

When you can find it in yourself to stop kissing him, you pull back and climb out of his lap, present the back of your dress so he can ease down the zipper. He pushes it off, large, warm hands gliding over your body until it hits the floor in a heap unbecoming of the designer label. Your mother would lose her mind.

“You are incredibly beautiful,” Aaron says as he moves his hands to your hips, sliding your panties down and leaning in to press his lips to your stomach. You sigh, press a hand to the back of his head while his mouth explores you where you’re soft and sensitive. You’d like it lower, but there may not be time for that tonight. “What do you want with an old man like me?”

“None of that.” You sweep your hands over his shoulders, sink down onto his lap again, and his hands fall to your bare hips, squeezing you softly; you close your eyes for a moment, so overwhelmed by just the simplest touch. “Like you said: I feel a connection.” Your fingers move to push his shirt open, to lift his undershirt so you can get your hands on bare skin and soft body and hair. He groans, and you kiss him, deep and slow, hands moving to take off both shirts and add them to his jacket on your chair. You take a deep breath, reach out to touch his cheek. “Connect with me.”

He takes your hand, brings your palm to his mouth and kisses it, then drags it down so your fingers slide over his lips; you swallow hard, can feel wetness pooling between your legs, so you slide off of him and onto the bed—however sexy it may be to leave your mark on him, you do both have to return to the party at some point.

Sitting up beside him, you touch his body, ease his pants and boxers down; he takes them off along with his shoes, and you pull the comforter out from under you, push it to the side, let yourself lay back and bask in the look and feel of him as he settles between your knees, leans in for a kiss.

It’s even more intense than before, somehow, his thighs against yours, strong arms supporting him, and you drag your nails lightly up his body, tip your head back and sigh when his lips trail from the base of your throat to your jaw.

He moves a hand low, rubs his fingers between your lips and presses one finger inside you, slowly glides it in and out so you’re moaning, sighing his name.

“That feels so good,” you breathe, and he moves his mouth to yours again, soft and wet, the slide of his tongue sinfully delicious. He adds a second finger, earns more gasping moans, then a third; with the help of a capable thumb stroking over your clit, you come, and he kisses the praise right out of your mouth and then pushes inside you.

His mouth doesn’t leave yours, keeps you close as he thrusts inside, gradually lowering his weight onto you until you feel him everywhere: chest soft against yours, stomachs pressing together as you both work your hips, as your hands grasp his back to keep him close, heavy. Connected.

“You’re perfect. You feel incredible, baby,” he speaks against your lips in a rare moment apart, and you hitch your knees up higher, press the heels of your feet against his ass.

You thought he looked turned on before, but now he looks like he’s being consumed by it, like he wants to thrust deeper into you, make a home in your body and never leave; you would be more than okay with that, to spend the next two weeks beneath him, holding him close, sharing breath and sweat and pleasure so complete it changes you profoundly.

He moves a hand behind your head, cradles it, and sucks wet kisses against your throat—nothing so deep as to leave a mark, but that doesn’t mean you’re not panting, whimpering, begging for more.

“Aaron. Hmm, oh. You’re so gorgeous, I—everything about you.” He pulls away from your neck, peers down at you, and you’re sure you’re a sight to behold in your desperation; your palms smooth down his back, to his sides, and you hug him close, squeeze him hard when he comes, panting your name against your throat and pumping roughly inside.

You meet his every thrust, dig your nails into his hips, and he leans forward, covers your mouth with his and grinds against you until your second blissful orgasm shudders through your limbs. You clench tight around him, moan, then slowly sag back against the mattress, more thoroughly satisfied than you’ve ever been in your life.

He shifts, half on top of you and half off, his kisses gradually slowing, his hands sweeping over your shoulders, your face, your arms. When you’re calm, content, you sigh, kiss his hands and cheeks and lips; you’re warm, and you curl around him, overheated skin on skin, and never want to leave.

“Mmm,” he rumbles against your shoulder, mouthing at it, and you sigh, scrape your nails through his hair.

“Mm hmm. Think I can die happy now,” you murmur, and he shifts up to look at you, a smile curving softly from the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t die on me, now.” You smile too, scoot closer for slow kisses. You’re both happy to lay there, quietly kissing, but eventually it’s clear you need to return to the party in order to avoid suspicion—not that you think anyone would ever guess what just occurred.

You dress side by side, turning to have him fix your zipper, reaching up to help him with his tie. When you’re both technically decent enough to head downstairs, you plan to give him a head start, but the two of you get caught up in one more deeply sensual kiss that almost makes you want to just say screw it and take his clothes off again. He can tell, has the barest hint of a smirk on his face when the kiss breaks, and he punctuates it with a soft press of lips before walking out the door.

With your spare few minutes, you look around the room—and at your rumpled, frilly, lavender bed, on which you just had super hot sex with one of your dad’s friends, it’s still kind of sinking in—and wonder what the rest of your vacation could possibly bring that could top this night. At breakfast the next morning, you find out.

You and your parents are discussing the party, who got too drunk to function, who left with the wrong wife, which of your dad’s friend’s sons you got along with most, and then he drops the bomb on you.

“And see, honey, I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial.” You choke on a bite of scrambled eggs, try to wash it down with a sip of juice; your mom pats you on the back until the moment passes.

“What?” you ask, voice barely a squeak. You clear your throat and try again. “What about Aaron, dad?” He flips the newspaper he’s holding to the next page and peers over it at you.

“I told you talking to Aaron would be beneficial. Before he left last night, he told me all about the internship—it’s nice of him to set it up for the two weeks you’re here, so you can get some experience under your belt.” You briefly think about your experience under Aaron’s belt, but it’s really not the time.

He really set you up with an internship—one he knows you aren’t interested in—based on the offhand comment you’d made about squeezing it into your two week vacation. You’d be kind of irritated at him for making the plans on your behalf, but if it means the next two weeks are anything like last night, he’s going to make it well worth your while.

The internship excites both of your parents, and your mom declares it a girls day, takes you out for some new clothes, since you didn’t bring any workwear, for a manicure and pedicure and then drinks. She talks about what a great opportunity this will be for you, and you don’t have the heart—or maybe you just don’t care anymore—to argue about what great opportunities you’ve already made possible for yourself.

Sunday is for relaxing, and not internally panicking about seeing Aaron again. Friday night was incredible, but you didn’t think it would turn into anything, considering he is your dad’s friend, and you’re only here for a couple weeks.

You have to hand it to him, though: if he enjoyed himself as much as you did, and this internship is his way of getting to spend more time with you, he has managed to do what you haven’t been able for twenty-nine years—find a way to please your parents while finally pleasing yourself. Monday morning, you show up at the BAU office to receive a photo ID badge and fill out some paperwork. You don’t actually get to meet anyone from the BAU until after lunch, and when you do, Aaron is nowhere to be seen.

“Hi, I’m looking for Unit Chief Hotchner?” you say to a fair-skinned woman with long blonde hair and a kind smile. “I’m interning for the next couple weeks.” There is a man with her, Black, tall, bald, with very expressive eyebrows; the eyebrows don’t look like they think very highly of you.

“You’re an intern? A little old, aren’t you?” After a beat, his face breaks into a smile, and you roll your eyes, huff a laugh.

“Charmer. Yes, I’m definitely too old to be an intern; do you have overbearing parents by chance?” He raises his hands, palms up, and takes a step back.

“No, but enough said.” The blonde woman laughs, and he nods in your direction. “I’m Derek Morgan, this is JJ Jareau. Come with me, I’ll take you to Hotch.”

You thank him, follow as he leads you across the room and up some stairs.

“So what’s he like, Agent Hotchner?” you ask, wanting someone else’s opinion of Aaron as a boss, a coworker—anything other than the one night stand that wasn’t. You really know so little about him.

“He’s a good guy; smart, fair, great at what he does. A little tightly wound; could stand to live a little.” He looks back at you with a grin. “He’ll probably remind you a little of your dad.”

God. It almost makes you throw up in your mouth a little.

“You know, I doubt it, but thanks for the warning.” He knocks on a closed door at the end of the hall, and a moment later, Aaron answers it. His expression doesn’t change as Derek introduces you, and when he walks away with a friendly pat on your shoulder, Aaron gestures you in. He closes the door behind you and looks carefully over your face.

“Hi,” he says, and you see that hint of a smirk on his face again. You take a moment to appraise the room—there’s a window with blinds that are closed, a desk and chairs, bookcases, a printer, more windows on the far side, a loveseat. You look back at Aaron with a raised brow.

“Hi. What am I doing here?” His expression gets serious, like he can’t tell if you’re pleased or upset with him for the surprise. You sit down on the loveseat, set your bag down, and he sits down next to you.

“I know you wanted to get your father off your back, and you did say if I could squeeze an internship into two weeks that you’d be interested.” You smile a little, because you did say that. “I thought it might be nice to see you a little more, too. You’re under no obligation to stay,” he assures you, briefly looking down, and then he takes your hand. “But surely there are worse ways to spend your vacation?”

You give him an uncertain look, like you’re really trying to decide what you’d like to do, and then you push up your skirt and swiftly straddle his thighs, press your hands against his shoulders. His mouth falls open a little, and you lean in to catch it with yours.

“I have been thinking about you all weekend,” he mutters into the kiss, wraps his arms around your back. “Have you thought about me?”

“Only every night.” He groans at your words, lets his head fall back a little, and you press your lips to the column of his throat, nip softly with your teeth. “Every morning. Every minute.” You bite at the shell of his ear, kiss it, card your fingers through his hair. “Do I have an actual job to do here?” You pull back, and he raises his eyebrows; you can’t help the grin that takes over your expression. “Because if not, I’m going to focus on making this the best two weeks of your life.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, a little rougher than before, deeper, and you tug on his hair, pant against his cheek when you separate.

“In that case, no. You don’t have a job to do here.” You tilt your head, and he smiles a little. “I'm the boss, I make the rules.” That kind of thing has never done it for you before, but you have to admit it’s making you feel some type of way right now. You sweep your hands inside his jacket, squeeze his sides.

“Mmm, yes you do. Hey, do you think there’s enough room for me to fit under your desk?” He wets his lips, and you climb off of him, walk around to check it out for yourself, bending over his desk in your tight black skirt to peek beneath it. You look up to see Aaron is not shy about taking in the view, and you grin. “Spacious.”

He walks toward you, and when he’s closer, his eyes look dark with need; his hands look like they ache to reach out and touch. You step forward, let yourself be caged in against the desk by his arms, and you arch your back a little, open his belt slowly.

“I didn’t set this up so you would feel obligated to do this.” You sigh, lean up to catch his lips in a soft kiss.

“I know you didn’t. But if I want to?” You tug down his zipper, slip your hand inside his underwear, feel him hot and stiff in your palm. “And you want to?” He nods tightly and you kiss him again, squeeze him softly, sweep your tongue between his lips. “Then let’s.”

You take a step back, push his chair far enough out of the way that you can crawl under the desk, come up on your knees; he exhales deeply, then sinks down into his chair, stretches his long legs so they rest on either side of your body, holds his pants open for you. You look up at him, hope he sees how ridiculously eager you are to do this, and you take his dick out, stroke it a couple times, and cover it with your mouth.

“My god,” he sighs, head resting back against his seat. You hold him with both hands, suck deep and wet, moan a little when he spreads his legs further apart. “Your mouth feels so good, baby. Does this make you wet?” You pull off, move one hand to slide up his stomach, clutch his shirt there.

“Very, but I’m patient. Want to make you come.” He wets his lips, sighs, and you dip your head, lick up the length of him before sucking him back down.

He is all perfect, desperate noises, soft grunts and moans, gently palming your head as he gets closer, and you’re pretty sure he’s about to get off when there’s a knock at the door. He mutters a curse, and you squeeze his stomach, determined to make him come in the next five seconds. He looks like he’s going to lose his mind.

“Just a minute,” he manages, his voice strained, and he puts his hands on your arms, but you stroke and suck him quickly, actually sigh in relief when he spills in your mouth; your only regret is that he couldn’t be louder.

As soon as he’s through coming, you duck under the desk to wipe your mouth, and he hurries to fix his fly, to close his belt. There’s another knock, and he exhales, calls for whoever is on the other side to come in.

He accidentally bangs his knee off the desk, winces, and you lean back against it, panting, your heart racing.

“Aaron!”

Your eyes snap closed. What are the actual chances of this? You don’t know enough about karma to have an opinion on it, but you come to the sudden realization that you must have done something wrong in a past life.

“Hey, what are you doing in our neck of the woods?” Aaron asks, managing to sound like he is in fact not talking to the father of the woman who just swallowed his come.

“Looking for my little girl, of course. Had to see what she was getting up to on her first day at the FBI.”

“She’s actually… downstairs. In the mailroom. Interns start at the bottom and work their way up.” You stifle a laugh, because despite your compromising position, that’s kind of funny.

“Oh, okay. Agent Morgan thought she was up here, but I guess she must have snuck by him. Would you tell her I stopped by?”

“Absolutely. She’ll be happy to hear it,” he says, and you think you might be out of the woods, but you hear your dad’s voice again.

“Hey I almost forgot to mention: Monday Night Football tonight, got a bunch of guys coming over to watch the game. You interested?”

“You know, that would be great. You can text me the details. Thanks for the invitation.”

“Sure, of course. I really appreciate you taking care of my girl.” You have to bite your lip this time, and Aaron taps his foot against your hip.

“It’s my pleasure. She’s really wonderful. You should be proud.”

“I am. I’ll text you the details,” he says, and then the door closes and Aaron pulls back, looks down at you beneath the desk. You kind of just stare at each other for a minute.

“Close call?” you say with a shrug, and he helps you to your feet, then lifts you up and sets your ass on the edge of his desk. He grabs your face for a messy kiss, and you cling to him, breathless when he pulls back.

“What does it say about me that I’m turned on again?” he asks, and you shake your head, pull him close for another kiss.

“I don’t know, but I’m really turned on, too. Can you—” That’s as far as you get before he strides over to the door, flips the lock, and comes back to push your skirt up, tug your panties down to your knees so quickly it makes you gasp. He gets on his knees slowly, looks up at your face, and puts his hands on your hips, takes a few deep, thorough licks of your pussy. “Oh, my god.” You put your hand on the back of his head, drop your ass harder against the desk and press your other palm against it for support.

He is as enthusiastic as you were for him, slipping his tongue between your lips, gliding rhythmically over your opening but not pressing in, the tease. It feels insanely good, so much but not quite enough.

“Aaron. Oh, mmm—please. Please.” You sigh, dig your fingers into his hair, and he puts his hands under your ass and tilts you back on the desk, dives lower to start thrusting inside you with his tongue. “Yes, yeah, right there,” you murmur, and you rock your hips a little; your hand slips, sending you further back on the desk so that you’re almost laying back on it, and it makes you feel so deliciously dirty that you groan, grab at the collar of his jacket at the back of his neck.

“You okay?” he asks, pulling back to look up at you, and you nod, frantic; he licks his lips, lifts your legs and puts them over his shoulders, then dips down to stroke his tongue inside you, to press a finger inside alongside it.

“Holy—oh, yes.” You toss your head back, whine, and come around his finger while his tongue flicks in and out until you’re left breathless, spent.

You press yourself up to sitting, and Aaron stands, kisses you deeply, hands on your face while you’re still slick on his tongue. After a couple of minutes, he helps you get cleaned and straightened up, his kisses soft presses of lips this time.

“I should try to get some work done,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to; after that, you can’t really blame him.

“That’s okay; I brought my laptop, so I can work on some stuff too, if you don’t mind.” He doesn’t of course, and you get set up at the other end of his desk. You’re both plugging away at your work when you’re reminded of something from earlier; you close the lid of your computer and look over at Aaron, head tilted. “I didn’t take you for someone who likes football.” He smiles, taps his pen against his chin.

“I don’t. But I figured you’ll be there.” You smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll see if my old cheerleading uniform still fits—you know, just to go with the theme.” You open your computer back up, but the look on Aaron’s face out of the corner of your eye is very, very promising. “Mmh, that feels good,” you murmur, one hand on Aaron’s shoulder and the other on his thigh; he is propped up against your pillows, massaging your bare breast and your clit while you roll your hips in his lap. Your cheerleading skirt fits, mostly, but you couldn’t zip it all the way; still, it’s the only thing you’re wearing, and you can’t deny the whole situation is so hot it hurts.

“You feel so incredible. Taking me so well.” He can’t kiss you in this position, and you can tell he wants to—you really want him to—so you feel a little like a tease as you work your ass and thighs atop him. “You know you’re beautiful, but I can’t stop saying it. You’re perfect, baby—in this little skirt?” He moves the hand from your breast to your hip under the skirt, squeezes you there. “So sexy. Do you remember any cheers for me?”

You groan, roll your eyes.

“Not worth the orgasm to embarrass myself,” you say, and he lifts his hips, slams up into you hard. “Mmh. Okay, almost worth the orgasm, but not going to do it.” He lifts an eyebrow, pumps his hips up again.

“Really? Not even if I…” He lunges forward, lifting you out of his lap and making you laugh, then maneuvers you onto your stomach, gets on his knees behind you, flips up the skirt.

“God, Aaron,” you sigh, and he presses his thighs right up against your ass, slides inside, pumps slow and steady while squeezing your cheeks, pulling you back toward him. Your fingers dig into the stupid, frilly bedspread, which will probably turn you on for the rest of your life, now, and you move back against his thrusts, moan.

“Worth it now?” he asks, filling you so completely, and you pant, hum.

“Wouldn’t you rather I just moan your name?” He leans forward at that, hands planted up under your arms, and leans in to speak into your ear; the way he’s pressed against you, the angle is perfect, and you’re right on the edge when his lips brush your throat.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that instead.” It takes about two seconds for you to come, and you aren’t shy about it, let his name fall from your lips in an endless string of praise. He hammers against your ass, the roughest he’s been—and god, does it feel good—then comes inside you murmuring your name.

He pulls out, rolls you over, and you finally kiss, make it count; it’s like the first night, how you can’t get enough of each other, messy, desperate, curling tongues and soft, eager lips, but you know you can’t keep it up forever, because his presence downstairs will be missed much sooner than Friday’s party.

You help him get dressed—in jeans and a blue polo, maybe the only time in your life a polo has made you wet—and then throw on a t-shirt and jeans of your own, head downstairs. You detour for the kitchen to grab a couple beers while he heads into the living room, and then you plop down next to him on the couch and hand him one like you weren’t just defiling your childhood bedroom yet again.

“There you are,” your dad says when he registers your presence—it’s impossible to get him to look away from the tv when a good game is on. “So how was your first day at the office? Think you’re going to like it there?”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I was resistant for so long.” You shift, put your leg under your butt, and take a sip of your beer. “It’s not going to be a career for me, but I have a really good feeling about the next two weeks.”

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner @hotforhotchner11 @itsmytimetoodream

#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 #ask answered #anon #prompt

485 notes · View notes

dadbodosamu · 3 years

Text

only you || part ii

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: slight (consensual!!) somnophilia, cockwarming, public sex, semi-public sex, daddy kink, oral (m+f receiving), Osamu has a dick piercing

3.3k words

part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You woke up to Osamu crawling into your bed.

“Good morning, princess,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

“Morning,” you mumbled as he kissed your forehead.

“Go back to sleep, baby. I just wanted to hold ya for a lil’ while,” he said. You nodded and closed your eyes again.

Osamu’s cock was pressing against your clothed cunt.

“Samu,” you groaned.

“Just sleep, princess,” he mumbled, pushing down his boxers. He rutted his cock against your pussy. He buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking along your skin as he rutted against you. You spread your legs slightly, giving him a better angle.

“Good girl,” he breathed. He reached down, rubbing your clit through your thin panties.

“Want more,” you moaned.

“Wanna warm my cock, princess?” Osamu asked.

“Please,” you whimpered as he played with your clit. He pushed your panties to the side and slowly slid inside you. You moaned as he pulled your leg over his hip to push deeper inside of you.

“There we go,” Osamu sighed. You sighed as you closed your eyes and cuddled against his broad chest. “Go back to sleep, baby.”

You yawned and nodded, drifting back to sleep, stretched and full.

The second time you woke up, Osamu was gently rocking into you.

“Samu,” you mumbled as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside you.

“Shh, shh, baby, let me take care of ya,” he said. He reached down and circled your clit with his fingers. You moaned softly.

“Ya were squeezin’ me so tight in yer sleep, must’ve been havin’ a good dream,” Osamu teased.

You had, in fact, dreamed of something along the lines of this.

“Dreamt about you,” you moaned, moving your hips against his.

“Yeah?” Osamu asked, timing his slow thrusts with yours. “What about me?”

“This,” you said. “‘Cept you kissed me.”

“Like this?” He asked, kissing you softly. You sighed into the kiss.

“Yeah,” you said, breathlessly after he pulled away.

He leaned his forehead against yours, looking at you with soft, grey eyes.

“Gonna fill ya up again, okay?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

You whined as he pinched your clit, driving you closer to your own orgasm.

“Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Cum with me, baby,” he moaned. You cried out as you creamed around his cock as he painted your insides white.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“Good morning,” you said, pulling away from him.

“Do you want to go to Osaka with me today?” He asked. “I’m opening a new location and need to look at a few different areas.”

“If you make me breakfast,” you said, smiling.

“Deal.” Osamu pecked your lips and slowly pulled out of you before hopping out of your bed.

You sighed happily and laid back in bed for a moment. You listened to Osamu moving around in the kitchen before hopping up and walking into your bathroom.

You quickly showered and brushed your teeth before getting dressed in a short, black skirt and a white Onigiri Miya shirt.

In the kitchen, Osamu had opted to make omurice. He was just plating the second plate when you entered.

“Who said ya could be so cute?” Osamu asked, looking you up and down. You smiled as your cheeks burned.

“Who said you could be so handsome?” You shot back. Even in just a pair of black briefs, Osamu was the most handsome man you’d ever seen.

“Bon appetit,” he said, placing both plates on the table. You smiled as he pulled your chair out for you.

“Thank you,” you said. You ate in relative silence, playing a childish game of footsies under the table.

“Let me go get dressed and we’ll leave,” Osamu said after the two of you finished eating.

“I’ll be here,” you said as he kissed your forehead.

You fiddled with your phone as you waited. You had a few new texts, all from the MSBY boys who had all apparently gotten your number from Osamu the day before.

‘hey it’s uncle tsumu,’ Atsumu texted. You smiled and saved his number under ‘Uncle Tsumu’ before texting back.

‘hi uncle tsumu,’ you responded. You opened and responded to the rest of the boys, saving their numbers and momentarily fangirling over the fact that you now had your favourite volleyball players’ numbers.

“Ready?” Osamu asked, stepping into the kitchen. He was dressed casually, in jeans and an Onigiri Miya shirt that matched your own.

“Nice shirt,” you teased.

“It’s my restaurant,” Osamu said.

You laughed as you followed him out of the door and to the car.

“We have to be back by 7 to pick up yer mom,” Osamu said as he started the car.

You frowned at the mention of her.

“Hey, no pouting,” he said. “I didn’t even sleep with her last night. Like you asked.”

“She’s still your wife, you’re going to have to eventually fuck her again,” you said.

“What do ya want me to do?” Osamu asked. “Leave her?”

You stayed silent.

“Give it some time, it’ll be suspicious if I ask for a divorce right after I met ya,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh.

“How much time?” You asked.

“Let’s say, six months,” he said. “That’s long enough that it doesn’t seem suspicious.”

“You won’t sleep with her?” You asked.

“Promise, princess,” he said.

“What about when I go back to school?” You asked.

“I’ll come visit you,” he said. You nodded, satisfied with his answers.

The ride was long and filled with questions of you and Osamu getting to know each other better.

When you finally arrived in Osaka, Osamu grabbed your hand as you walked towards the subway. You smiled widely and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Don’t wanna lose ya in the crowd,” he teased, pulling you closer to him. You grabbed onto his arm and smiled up at him.

“You’re so tall, I’m pretty sure you could spot me if we got separated,” you said.

“Maybe I just want to hold yer hand,” he said.

“Maybe I want to hold yours,” you said.

He smiled down at you.

It took a few hours to check out three locations for the new Onigiri Miya.

“We still have a few hours before we have to be back,” Osamu said. “Ya wanna go get lunch?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Osamu?” You teased.

“If I am?” He said.

“I’d say yes,” you said.

“Then, I definitely am,” he said, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

You ended up in a small restaurant near the last location you had checked on.

“You come here often?” Osamu joked as you sat at a small table.

“I actually do go to school around here,” you said.

“Really?” Osamu asked. You nodded.

“Kansai University in Suita,” you said.

“Oh, so yer not just good at volleyball, yer smart too?” Osamu asked.

“I am,” you said.

“And humble, wow,” he said. You smiled at him.

“Where did you go to school?” You asked.

“Otemae in Nishinomiya,” Osamu said. “Majored in business.”

“And then you opened Onigiri Miya right after you graduated?” You asked.

“Yep,” he said. The two of you chatted as you ate.

“Ooo, we still have two hours before we have to leave,” Osamu said, glancing at his phone.

“We can just walk around until we find something,” you said. “Who knows, we might find somewhere to put Onigiri Miya.”

Osamu nodded as he paid for your food.

You grabbed his hand as you stepped out onto the street and immediately pulled him down a street of cute, little shops. You wandered into shop after shop, dragging Osamu behind you as you tried on clothes.

“That’s cute,” Osamu said as you twirled around in a sundress covered in sunflowers.

“You think?” You asked. “Not too short?”

“Oh, definitely,” Osamu said, running his hand up your bare thigh. “I can already see the cute little panties you wore today.”

“Samu!” You exclaimed as he popped the elastic of your panties.

“Come on, try something else on,” he said, pushing you back into the dressing room. He closed the door behind him and pushed you against the wall before kneeling in front of you

“Samu,” you whispered as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“Cute, little cunt,” he said, shamelessly licking over your already wet panties. “Wanted to taste ya since I first saw ya.”

“Samu!” You hissed as he pulled your panties to the side and licked deep into your core.

“Taste so good, baby,” he moaned. You bit back a moan of your own as his plush lips wrapped around your clit.

“Samu,” you moaned softly. You heard a knock at the door.

“Is everything alright in there, Miss?” An employee called.

Osamu sucked harshly at your clit as you tried to respond.

“Ev-everything is fine!” You called back. “Just a little trouble with a zipper.”

“Okay, let me know if you would like any help,” she said.

“Thank you,” you responded.

“Cum for me, princess,” Osamu whispered, inserting two fingers in your sopping cunt. He curled them just right, pressing against that spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Samu,” you moaned. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, let me taste ya for real,” he said.

You leaned against the wall and tangled your fingers in Osamu’s hair, shoving his face deeper in your pussy as you gushed all over his face.

Osamu pulled back as you breathed heavily. His face glistened with your juices as he smiled widely up at you.

“Fuck you,” you gasped out.

“That’ll have to come later, baby,” he said, standing up. “I’m buying you that dress.”

“Okay,” you said, not having the energy to argue. You slowly redressed in your original clothes and followed Osamu out of the dressing room with the sundress in hand.

The employee pursed her lips as she noticed there were no zippers to be found.

You smiled at her apologetically and left quickly after Osamu paid.

“Wanna suck my dick in a public restroom?” Osamu asked, only half-joking.

“Thought you’d never ask,” you said, smiling as you pushed him into the bathroom only a few doors down from the shop you’d just been in.

You locked the door behind you and fell to your knees in front of Osamu. His cock was straining against his jeans, begging to be let out.

You quickly undid his jeans, pushing them down. His cock bobbed heavily as you pulled his briefs down.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, wrapping your hands around his length. The girth was so great your fingers couldn’t wrap all the way around it. You placed a kitten lick on the pierced tip, slurping up the leaking precum.

“Go ‘head, princess,” Osamu said, grabbing your hair.

“It’s so big,” you said, marvelling at his size. “Is the piercing sensitive?”

“Why don’t ya find out, baby?” Osamu asked. You nodded and took just the tip in your mouth. You gently tongued at the apadravya as Osamu moaned above you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, struggling not to just force his cock down your throat and you sucked the tip. “Can ya take more, princess?”

You hummed and slowly took a few extra inches into your mouth. Your lips were stretched around his cock as you struggled to take more down your throat. You wrapped a hand around the remaining inches and pumped him slowly as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

“Fuck, so good for me,” Osamu moaned. “Made to take my cock, huh? My lil’ cock sleeve.”

You moaned as he pulled you back by your hair. His cock fell from your mouth along with a whine.

“‘m sorry, baby, just need t’ be in ya,” Osamu said. “Promise I’ll let ya suck my cock later.”

Osamu shoved your skirt up and pulled your soaked panties to the side before plunging two fingers in your cunt.

“So wet and ready for me,” Osamu said, curling his fingers inside of you. He pulled his fingers out and sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean. Osamu pushed you against the sink, lifting you up and sitting you on the cool porcelain.

“In me,” you moaned as Osamu’s cock teased your wet folds. “Samu, please.”

“I know ya need me, princess,” Osamu said. “Need me fillin’ up yer sweet, lil’ cunt.”

“Need it,” you whined. He slowly pressed his cock into you, stretching your walls. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Samu,” you moaned, softly. He nodded as he gently rutted into your tight cunt.

“S’good ‘n tight around me, princess,” Osamu moaned. He reached down and his fingers circled your clit. “Not gonna last long, baby.”

“Make me cum, please, daddy,” you begged.

“What was that, princess?” Osamu asked, moving his fingers faster over your clit. His hips snapped against yours roughly.

“Wanna cum on your cock, daddy,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you.

Osamu groaned as his hips moved faster. “Say that again, princess.”

“Daddy,” you moaned lightly in his ear. Osamu moaned as your walls clenched around him.

“Gonna make you cum on daddy’s cock, princess,” Osamu said. His forehead leaned against yours as he thrusted into you harder. Your walls fluttered as your stomach tightened.

“Daddy, gonna cum,” you gasped. Osamu teased your clit with long fingers.

“Cum around daddy’s cock, baby,” he cooed. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cry as you came. His cock twitched deep inside you and Osamu filled you up.

“Fuck,” Osamu groaned as he came. The two of you panted for a moment, trying to catch your breath.

“Oh,” you breathed as Osamu slowly pulled out of you. He pulled your underwear back over your pussy and helped you stand and straighten out your skirt.

“We’re insatiable,” you said, smiling widely. “Like a bunch of horny teenagers.”

“If you give me a few minutes, we can go again,” Osamu said, fixing his hair in the mirror.

“Well, if we leave now, we can probably fuck in the car on the way back,” you said.

“After you, princess,” Osamu said, holding the door open.

“How was Osaka?” Your mom asked as the three of you sat around the table.

“Fine,” Osamu said. “None of the locations were right, though.”

“We did go to this cute, little restaurant, though,” you said, taking a bite of rice. “And there was this nice boutique we went to.”

“You get anything?” Your mom asked.

“Just a sundress,” you said. “Might wear it to the game tomorrow.”

Osamu coughed and banged on the table as he choked. You patted his back as your mom handed him a glass of water.

“Okay?” You asked as he stopped coughing.

“Fine, fine,” Osamu said, taking a sip of water. “Wrong pipe.”

“You should try on the dress, let me see it,” your mom said, leaning back in her chair as Osamu calmed down.

You bit back a smirk as you nodded. “Of course, Mom. Give me one second.”

You padded down the hallway to your room and quickly changed into the dress.

You twirled around in your dress as you stood in front of your mom and Osamu.

Osamu narrowed his eyes at you as you faced them.

“It’s-It’s a little short, no?” Your mom asked.

“I think it’s cute,” you said, smiling.

“It is a lil’ short,” Osamu said, casually. You glared at him. “Maybe ya should wear something else to the game?”

“Wouldn’t want to distract the players,” your mom said. “Or let someone get too handsy with you.”

“They’re professional athletes, they won’t be distracted,” you said, waving their comments away. “And I’ll be with Osamu, so I’m sure no one would try anything.”

“Wear what ya want,” Osamu said, going back to his dinner.

You rolled your eyes as you sat down at the table. “Was planning on it.”

“Hey, I don’t want you two to argue over this,” your mom said. “You’ve been getting along so well.”

“I’m going to go get ready for bed,” Osamu said. He stood up abruptly, shaking the table.

“Osamu,” your mom called as he walked down the hallway. “What has gotten into him?”

“He’s a man,” you said. “He’s just pissed I wouldn’t listen to him.”

“He probably just wants you to be safe,” your mom said.

“I’m going to change,” you mumbled, standing up. You were walking down the hallway when Osamu pulled you into the bathroom suddenly.

“What the fuck?” You asked as he pushed you against the door. “Mom’s right in the kitchen.”

The shower was running and steam was filling the bathroom quickly.

“It’s that fuckin’ dress,” Osamu said, grinding against you. The towel wrapped low on his hips threatened to fall to the floor. “Jus’ wanna rip it off ya.”

“You’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Ya better not leave my side,” he said, kissing your lips.

“Promise,” you mumbled against his plush lips. “Now let me go before my mom catches us in a precarious situation.”

“Get outta here,” Osamu said, opening the door. He smacked your ass as you crossed the hallway into your room.

You changed into a t-shirt and shorts before going to the living room where your mom was watching TV.

“So,” your mom said, looking over at you, “I noticed you had a few… bruises on your neck.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled your phone out and used the camera to look at your neck. It looked like you’d been in a fight.

“I can explain, Mom,” you started.

“So which one is it? I figure it’s one of Osamu’s friends you met yesterday at the restaurant?” She said.

“Uh, yes! Exactly!” You exclaimed. “I actually didn’t work at the restaurant all day.”

“So which one?” Your mom asked excitedly. “Is it Hinata? He’s so cute, I just want to eat him up! Ooo, maybe Sakusa? He’s so dark and mysterious.”

“It’s, um, well,” you stuttered. Osamu chose that moment to enter the room, wearing just a pair of basketball shorts.

“What are we talking about?” He asked, sitting next to your mom. You tried not to frown as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“Just which one of your friends Y/n here was with yesterday,” your mom said, leaning into Osamu’s touch.

“Yesterday?” Osamu asked.

“Oh, you don’t have to keep covering for her,” she said. “Look at her neck! You’re the only one she’s been with, so surely you didn’t give her those.”

“Ah, her neck,” Osamu said. He mouthed an apology as your mom turned back towards you.

“So which one was it?” She asked.

“Um, Bokuto,” you said quickly.

“Bokuto?” She questioned. She looked back at Osamu. “Isn’t he older than you? Sweetie, isn’t he a little too old for you?”

“Surely you don’t have a problem with age gaps,” you said, looking at Osamu pointedly. “Bo’s twenty-six. That’s only five years.”

“You should bring him to dinner before you leave,” your mom said. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Mom, we’re not really, like, a thing,” you said. “It’s really just a casual thing.”

“Nonsense! Invite him over,” she exclaimed.

“I’ll, um, see if he’s free tomorrow at the game,” you said.

“Oh, I wish I could go now!” She said. “I should’ve taken off work.”

“It’s too bad,” you said.

“I’m glad you and Osamu are bonding, though,” she said. “Maybe you’ll come visit more often.”

“Maybe,” you said, noncommittally.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” Osamu said with a yawn. “You two have fun talking boys.”

“I’m actually going to head to bed, too,” you said. “Guess all that travelling today wore me out.”

“Night, you two,” your mom called after you.

#samu thoughts #miya osamu smut #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya smut #tw:incest #cai writes #only you #miya osamu #osamu miya #tw:cheating

655 notes · View notes

moonshineboyz · 3 years

Text

[17:40]

Pairing: volleyball player!Juyeon × volleyball player! fem reader

Genre: Smut, enemies with benefits

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex, rough/hate (?) sex, usage of the word slut, mentions of choking and spanking, lowkey public sex, brief fingering

a/n: i know juyeon is not holding a volleyball but let's just pretend. i got this idea from listening to lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off by panic! at the disco 🤠 i'm not sure if i like the ending but,,, (@annyeongffs enjoy bb)

masterlist ♡

“Okay guys, let’s wrap up for today. Both teams did great!” The coach called and everyone got out of their positions, stretching out the tense muscles and walking out of court. “Nuh uh, minus you two Juyeon and Y/N.” He called again making you stop in your tracks. “You’re gonna take the volleyballs and net to the equipment room and pump up the basketballs. That’s what you get for arguing and swearing at each other every five minutes even during practice.”

You cursed under your breath sending a death glare towards Juyeon, who just looked at you expressionless. ‘Stupid son of a bitch.’

The coach left the court with the remaining of your team mates that waved at you from afar. You waved back and went to collect the scattered balls letting the boy get the net, since he was taller.

“If you weren’t so annoying, I could be going to my dorm right now.” He said when you walked past him on your way to the equipment room. You thought in giving a rude reply but bit your tongue not to curse back at him, already feeling your blood boil. “I'm talking to you.” You turned on your heel to face him.

“What do you mean? It’s your fault! You were throwing the ball too far for me to catch it in time!” You snarled.

“Isn’t it the whole point? Make the ball touch the floor on your adversary's side? I think you're just complaining because you're not that good of a player." Juyeon had just finished getting the net out of the first pole and glared at you with a raised brow. He really was getting under your skin.

"For your information, I'm the second best in the female team. I just can't deal with bullshit coming from a jerk like you."

Fuming, you turned your back again, walking away to fight back the temptation of throwing one of the balls in your arms directly at his annoying handsome face. Juyeon knew exactly how to get on your nerves and you couldn't stand having to be in the same room with him for too long without getting annoyed or bickering.

You were looking into the lockers searching for a second air pump, since there wasn't any other way and you had to pump up the balls, the best option was to you two do it separately so you could go home as soon as possible. While you were at it Juyeon entered the equipment room bringing the net and you quickly thought of a way to get yourself out of that situation.

"Here, the air pump." You handed him the object, to which he accepted but kept looking at you puzzled. "I didn't find another one, so, you do it."

"And what you're gonna do?"

"Go home!? What else do you expect me to do? Blow out the balls like they're balloons?" Your eyes rolled at how he scoffed at you, arms crossing in front of your body.

"I mean, I know something else you'd like to blow." A cheeky grin grew on his lips and past scenes of his dick on your mouth flashed through your mind.

“Shut the fuck up, will you? You’re so fucking annoying.” You raised your voice taking the boy aback for a moment, your jaw clenched and brows furrowed. “I can’t even stand looking at y-"

The words died at your throat as Juyeon dropped the air pump to grab your jaw firmly, pushing you up against the nearest wall. He was close, his tall figure towering over yours as he looked down at you with dark eyes.

“If you want to yell at me so bad, then I'll give you a reason to do so.” He muttered through gritted teeth and you could feel he was getting mad as well.

“Fuck you.” You scoffed trying to masquerade the fact that your heart was beating fast.

“Oh, you just did on semi-finals night, darling.” Juyeon let go of your face to brush his knuckles against the skin of your cheek, trailing south till it reached the side of your neck. You wished you didn’t shiver at the light touch, making it obvious to him that you enjoyed it. “Speaking of which, where have you been these past weeks? Were you too busy with that asshole from the basketball team?”

You didn’t even notice when you started to hold your breath but you were already feeling intoxicated by the low tone of his voice, knowing exactly what he was implying. His longs fingers wrapping around your throat not helping at all, and you thanked the sound of your racing heart wasn’t audible.

“Why? Jealous much?” It took everything in you to let that out in a disinterested voice, sticking to an attitude not to let him win in any circumstance.

“C'mon, doll, you know I'd never date you; this is just for the fun. You’re just someone to hook up with.” He took a step closer, few inches away to press his body against yours. His skin was still glistening from the after practice sweat and you could almost say he looked hot, even though your mouth told otherwise.

“And that’s all you can get after all. You’re good in bed but you’re as charming as a rock. No surprise you’re single.” Juyeon quirked a brow, his eyes dark as ever.

“Aw, you’re not attracted to me? Yeah, keep lying to yourself, darling. This is the most fun you can have besides taking your clothes off, isn’t it?” His breath fanned at your lips as the grip on your throat tightened, making him chuckle when a small moan dared to scape you. “Gosh, I really missed your pretty little pussy swallowing my dick and you screaming my name.”

You hated Juyeon to the moon and back with your whole being. He was arrogant, full of himself and egocentric, but what you hated the most was the fact that he knew how to touch you and make you feel things in a way you’d never experienced before, and you’d never admit that out loud. You'd never admit to his face how you also missed him pounding into you while you hooked up with other guys.

It was hard to recall when or even how you two started having this type of relationship, an 'enemies with benefits' kind you could say, because you clearly weren’t friends at all. You would pay not to have to spend the practice time looking at his face, and Juyeon would rather die than bumping into you in the hallways.

But both couldn’t deny the sexual tension, and maybe that’s what led you to it, or maybe that was only a tactic to release stress, and you just happened to be there for each other. What’s a better way to calm your nerves than fucking your enemy? The sex was great after all and you couldn’t name any other boy who has ever made you cum so hard. Perhaps the hate towards each other really did add fuel to the fire and made things more interesting, competing who could make the other orgasm the fastest.

"I hate you so much." You said trying not to moan again when Juyeon pressed his torso against yours, sneaking his knee between your thighs, to which you rolled your hips grinding down on it.

"It's reciprocal, I just like to fuck you dumb." His hands went to your waist, grabbing hard and pulling you more into him. You were already melting at the tip of his fingers and didn't think twice before crashing your lips together and tugged at his hair with force as he moved his leg to cause more friction on your core. His big hands roaming all over your body roughly and squeezing your ass. A hiss came out of Juyeon's lips when you scratched his back underneath the shirt, sure to leave red marks. "Don't start a game you know you're gonna lose."

Juyeon pulled you by the wrist to the old desk to careless bend you over it. You couldn't lie saying you didn't like how everything was rough with him, it made a shiver run down your spine every time he kissed you hard and pulled your hair as you cursed at him digging your nails into his skin. He never cared about whether or not he was leaving bruises on your hips, neck and inner thighs, but neither did you. You secretly enjoyed admiring them later in the mirror.

“Here? Really?”

“It’s not like we haven’t done this before. Plus, everyone left, you can scream all you want.” A hand came down hard on your right ass cheek making you yelp. Another smack on the left side and you winced in pain arching your back. “You look good in the team's uniform, but look even better when I'm filling you up.”

He massaged your ass before harshly pulling your tight shorts down to your ankles and you stepped out of them, feeling his hands travel up your legs and holding your hips to press his hard on on your clothed core. You sighed grinding against him, your mind already getting hazy.

The boy brought you up to leave hungry kisses down your neck and bit on the curvature. Your breath hitched when his short nails raked the skin of your belly and you let your head rest on his shoulder, closing your eyes lost in the sensations. “Now tell me, is it still me that makes you sweat? Did you think of me when you were in bed with them?” He growled in your ear biting your lobe, making you grind harder.

“Not even for a second, didn’t even cross my mind.” Lucky you your mouth worked faster than your body so you didn’t dumbly nod agreeing with him. “You’re good but not the best.” You weren’t even ashamed in lying.

Juyeon let out a dark chuckle and grabbed your throat while the other hand squeezed one of your breasts. “We both know I've got a hotter touch, a better fuck than any guy you’ll ever meet. Or else you wouldn’t be coming back begging for my cock whenever you feel horny.”

“You wish.”

“Then why are you still here?” He teased licking your neck and smirked when you shuddered.

“Didn’t you say you missed my pussy? Then fuck me already.” You huffed impatient to which his only answer was to rub circles in your clit over your damp underwear. Juyeon pushed you back to bend over the desk, quickly and roughly pulling your panties down that you’d had stumbled if you were standing straight. “You’re gonna rip my panties, you asshole.”

He scoffed, slapping you once again. “You didn’t complain the other times I did.” His hand palmed himself through the shorts while the other went to your core, fingers playing with your wet folds. You whimpered when he slid one digit inside and added a second right after already moving, making your back arch. “Think I need to remind you that you’re just a fuck toy, not some porcelain doll. They must’ve treated you so nicely, but you like it rough, don’t you?”

Juyeon removed his fingers from you and pulled his own shorts down just enough to free his member and teased your slit with the tip, making you bite your lip in anticipation. Your breath got cut short when he gripped your waist and pushed in in one quick thrust, his cock disappearing into your warmth and your pussy clenched at the feeling of every inch of him stretching you open.

He didn't give you time to even take a deep breath and started moving in a fast pace, grabbing your hips with force. You could feel your whole body getting hot, sweat starting to form on your temples, skin prickling. "How someone so annoying like you have a pussy so good?" He groaned giving a hard, sharp thrust making you gasp and lifted your right leg to put over the desk. You were there so open for him; bent over that he could do anything. And you enjoyed every part of it.

Breathy moans were leaving your lips mixing with obscene wet sounds from your dripping cunt and his hips slamming yours recklessly now, going deeper and deeper inside you. Juyeon was holding you so strong and digging his nails in your skin that you were sure it'd leave bruises. "F-fuck, Juyeon!" You screamed out when he pulled almost all of his length out just to pushed it back in with a quick motion. He smirked to himself and kept repeating it, just to see you writhe and lose your mind.

His hand pulled your ponytail to which you winced but couldn't contain a moan. Your knuckles were turning white holding onto the desk for dear life as Juyeon completely rammed into you. "Not so talkative right now, huh?" He grabbed both your arms, pinning them behind your back with his own hands. "Look at you clenching so desperately. Gonna cum on my cock like a good slut?" His voice was low, watching your whole body shake as you approached your high, loud and breathy sounds escaping your lips.

You came crying out his name, shaking violently and trying to roll your hips back to get more of him. Juyeon pulled out slowly, feeling your walls fluttering and you whimpered at the emptiness. Even though you were sensitive, Juyeon's dick was so good that it never failed to make you want more and more.

A last sigh left you before you got pushed to your knees facing his cock. "Now be the good little slut and you are and put this mouth to a better use."

714 notes · View notes

catcze · 3 years

Note

WAIT I HAVE AN IDEA...think about this

going out with sweet little kazuha and teasing him the entire time. rubbing his thighs, lightly tugging on his hair while he speaks, making him choke on his own words. making him so needy he’s willing to let you take him right there,, whether it be at the beach you’ve stopped to admire or in a comfortable field.

poor baby kazuha whos so worried somebody, anybody, is able to look over and find the both of you but still can’t help to continue the jut of his hips against yours. reassuring him that it’ll be fine, massaging his chest or arms while his cock jumps inside you at the thought of being seen. realizing kazuha is enjoying it all a little too much for somebody who was so worried only moments ago

NSFW!! 18+ ONLY !!

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !! ⠀

「 FEAT : 」 Kazuha x GN! Reader

「 ### : 」 Smut

「 CWS : 」 Public sex (semi-public??), kinda dominant reader, sort-of exhibitonist Kazu mmmm, a vv brief cockwarming bit, some breeding kink, mmmm it’s kind of rough sex? in a way lmao the reader basically just rocks Kazu’s world, praise 💞

I–– oh my god I've been riled up all day while writing the Kazuha smut, and now I've been sent this 💞 Honey, you're gonna be the death of me in the best way possible 💞

It’s unfair to him, maybe. You know his every weakness, know how to touch him just right to make him putty in your hands. You know just how to weave your hands into his hair and tug to make him stutter and stifle his moans. Know just how to drag your nails across his skin and palm him through his pants to have his breath hitching and his face warming. Really, it’s unfair how you can practically turn him on like a switch, but he doesn’t often complain.

At this point, he’s just grateful that this particular coast of Guili Plains you’d dragged him to is relatively isolated. Relatively, if not for the occasional adventurer that walks the shores and had given your picnic-blanket party the acknowledging nod.

“Kazuha,” you chirp into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “Are you that out of it, honey? I need you to focus on me if you want me to make you feel good, you know.”

“I-I–” he stutters, all his previous thoughts flying from his mind as you tighten around him, and his breath comes out choppy. “Sorr–y.”

The way you bounce on his cock has his brain short-circuiting, and your grip on his shoulders will likely leave marks. His hands grip your sides as best as they can with your quick movements, and all he can hear is the slick, wet sound of your skin meeting––

“Ah!” Kazuha moans when you come down particularly hard, and his eyes squeeze themselves shut at the feeling. You’re so warm and tight around him–– and all the pent-up arousal from the day is taking it’s toll on him. But...

“Wa-ait,” he whines, hazy eyes coming to meet yours. “I–– nngh–– someone could see.”

“Aw, baby,” you coo, relaxing your grip on his shoulders and stalling your near-punishing pace on his dick. Still, you stop with him filling you up all the way to the hilt, and the feeling of your tight warmth encompassing him entirely but not moving damn near has him losing his mind anyway. “No-one will see, don’t worry,” you try to soothe him, rubbing a hand up and down his arm while the other cups his face, a touch he nuzzles into with closed eyes, fighting to keep his body still.

And yet... your brow quirks up at the twitch of his dick at your words. You peer at him, silently, inquisitively as you contract around him and you let your thoughts run wild. Then, at your conclusion, you can’t help but grin.

Suddenly, you tighten up torturously once more, and lift your hips up and up, then bring them down with a wet smack that has him keening into your wrist. He cracks an eye open to witness your devilish expression. “Unless..?” You drag the word out, starting up the same pace as before that has Kazuha whining and clinging to you. “Unless you want people to see?”

He shakes his head weakly, but the jerk of his hips and the jump of his dick inside you is unmistakable, as is the embarrassment as he tries to hide his face in your neck. “Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” you say, running a hand through his hair sweetly then tugging, catching him off-guard with a moan. “It’s really hot that you want people to see.”

“I don’t mind people seeing, either,” you promise, tongue darting out to lick one of the many, many marks that decorate his skin. Your voice has him trembling. “What a sight we’d make, hm? Me, bouncing up and down on you in broad daylight, and you, a pretty moaning mess for me with your eyes rolled back and your perfect cock stretching me out so well.”

Kazuha’s hands tighten their grip on you when you tug his hair and squeeze down on him at the same time–– he only barely manages to contain his groan at the sensation. He looks up at you, panting hot on your skin and with a teary gaze, but you merely peck him on the cheek and flash him a sweet smile.

“Now, why don’t you be a good boy and cum inside me? I promise I’ll even keep it inside the whole day. “

#「 💦 」 whipped.cream #「 🐈‍⬛ 」 catcze.desserts #Kazuha smut #genshin impact smut #Cw GN reader

1K notes · View notes

thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Note

Are requests open? If they are, can I ask for dorm leaders hc on how they would react if they accidentally walked in while their s/o is changing.

Y’all about to see 7 puppies get embarrassed in the blink of an eye.

Enjoy!!!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riddle

Riddle.exe stopped working

No, I'm kidding… he just get fucked a few seconds during and after.

Riddle opened the door and when he found you changing your shirt, he stopped short, ducked his head to avoid looking further and apologized before closing the door behind him.

Your bedroom was calm again…deathly calm. Riddle was a hot kettle across your room; red, hot, and smoke coming out of his ears.

I recommend you don’t leave him alone for fear he willn’t be able to walk straight and end up tripping on the stairs.

Accompany him outside to get some air, a light walk. Maybe something sweet from the cafeteria can help relax him.

Riddle is going to spend a few long days stressed out.

Leona

It was opening and closing the door instantly, without a word.

He saw you changing your pants, exposing your underwear, and left the room.

On the outside he looked calm, on the inside he was on fire and losing control. Good thing this didn't happen to him back in Afterglow Savannah, the lionesses would have beheaded him on the spot.

He tries not to talk about what just happened as little as possible unless you want to see an irritated Leona. Better to forget what happened and get on with the day. More than anything, so that the lion's mental health doesn’t collapse.

Maybe a nap in his room or in the botanical garden will help calm the waters, who knows.

The next day all forgotten and won’t be happening again, Leona made a mental promise to himself.

Azul

He made ink. Literally. I'm not fucking around.

It was seeing you and puff, blushing from head to toe. Did you see that scene in the anime where the character's glasses break? Well, that with Azul all embarrassed.

He lost control in his transformation and nothing else changed but his legs for the eight tentacles of his. Cute.

Azul didn’t have a good time, not at all. It's going to take him days to recover and you'd better leave the twins out of this, neither of you would see the end of their provocations.

While he was completely embarrassed, now Azul was going to have a beautiful image of your body changing in his mind. Perhaps he would use it in case at some point he gets bored in class or a client is wasting his time.

Don't get me wrong, Azul isn't going to resort to lewd acts on your mental image, that's not what a gentleman does. He just wants to have you in his head no matter what you’re wearing ... or not wearing.

Kalim

I can't help but imagine Kalim entering the room like a whole ray of sunlight to stop in his tracks to see you with only a pair of pants and about to put on your shirt.

He lowered his head, covered his eyes, and slowly walked back out of your room. The poor man was completely sorry.

For the first time, Kalim was speechless and calm, though guilt was eating him up inside.

He gave you a few overpriced gifts as an apology, which you politely declined. You just sat down with him and explained that everything was fine and that there was no need for so much jewelry. Just, knock on the door next time.

Jamil was probably in the back listening to the entire conversation and making a mental note to slap Kalim on the head back in Scarabia.

Have dinner with him, both of you, so you can fix the pain of this cuteness.

Vil

This motherfucker and his audacity.

He opened the door and seeing you semi naked...he was stayed there watching. Just like that, he leaned on the threshold of the door with arms crossed, looking you up and down ... Without any lewd intention, don't be perverts

"Uhh, can I have a little privacy?"

He spun around like a diva and closed the door.

Go preparing yourself because the moment you cross that same door, you will be bombarded with ideas and criticism by our beauty queen.

Example: how to improve your posture, some shirts that can fit you better, maybe a corset? Change of underwear.

He will apologize for interrupting you in such a private moment tho.

Idia

You already know my shit, but I can't help but imagine it, Idia with red hair, but not the same shade of red, but a very powerful combustion red, with blends of burgundy and charcoal.

Hw entered your room to invite you to play of one of his games, to see you with just underwear and a half-placed shirt, and his head exploded.

He panicked and as he tried to get out he slammed his face against the door.

He curled up outside your door, he didn't have the energy to go back to his bedroom. All his strength was in not dying of shame at what had just happened.

He apologized to you without being able to look at your face, he was completely embarrassed and it was even worse for him to leave his room. The mere memory of your half naked torso made him faint.

Mistakes are often made, make him understand that ... and next time knock on the door before entering.

Perhaps he will put a small security system on your door so that this event does not happen again with him or with anyone else.

Give him a kiss for his effort, he's dying inside.

Malleus

Please lower your voice and avoid throwing a book on his face. For Malleus, the body is a completely normal thing for him, so seeing yourself ¼ naked is not unusual per say.

And speaking of the book, if you have the guts to throw it at him, he would catch it without any problem, as if it were a leaf from a tree falling in the fall.

And seriously, don’t yell at him, you scare the poor man. We know he usually shows up at any time in front of the dorm or wherever he pleases and gives us a hell of a scare, but he just wants company.

It doesn't really matter if you are clothed or completely naked, for Malleus you are still you.

But anyway he will give you the privacy you want and need, he isn’t senseless. He will wait patiently behind your door and when you’re ready he will re-enter as if nothing happened.

Maybe with a smile on his face to calm you down.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #Azul Ashengrotto #azul x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil shoenheit #vil x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #malleus draconia x reader

856 notes · View notes

sei-hoe · 3 years

Text

manager pt. 5

hello all! as always thank you for your love on this story. i hope you like this new chapter! leave me a comment, i love reading your thirsty thoughts! also i recently remembered that shiratorizawa is a dorm school lol, so from now on i will write it as such oopsie. also!! i got all official and made a banner for this series, im so official!

Fem Reader X Tendou Satori & Fem Reader x Ushijima Wakatoshi

CW: blowjob, angst, jealous themes, manipulative reader, language, implied sex, spit kink

WC: 2.6k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Clingy. That was the word you would use to describe Tendou as of late. During school he was walking with you in the hallways, during practice he was standing next to you, after practice he was walking you to your room. It wasn’t necessarily annoying, just strange. His change in behavior was sudden and unprompted, at least in your mind.

You had been the Shiratorizawa volleyball club manager for about a month now and your outlook had changed drastically. What used to feel awkward was now second nature. You used to flinch at what now was commonplace. Being “used” wasn’t what it used to be. Now it was something you looked forward to at the end of practice and you had actually become...dare you say it...friends with these guys. Friends with extreme benefits that is.

But still, Tendou was different. You’d catch him staring at you in a way that was different from the other guys. You’d catch him staring as Ushijima would carry you out of the gym on his back and straight to the locker room. He’d have a look that you used to not be able to identify in his eyes, you knew now it was jealousy. It was the same look that you’d found on Ushijima’s face about a month ago.

From Tendou’s perspective, it seemed as though Ushijima was hogging you, whisking you away after practice day in and day out. You would always walk out of the locker room with wet hair and another one of Ushijima’s shirts on. It was infuriating and just wasn’t fair. Tendou had barely been able to talk to you recently, hence his rather clingy behavior. But you were in heaven. You were in Ushijima’s presence daily and were able to care for him how he deserved. However, he had made it very clear that you were not his girlfriend as he didn’t have the time for such a commitment. Another price you were willing to pay.

_____

Another grueling practice ended a little bit later than usual, you noted the dark sky through the windows towards the top of the gym walls. You were working on a bit of homework when the final whistle was blown signifying the official end of practice. You stood up and began packing up your bag as the team approached the bench for a meeting. Tendou was the first to arrive by the bench, coming up behind you for a hug, wrapping his arms around your upper stomach and resting his chin on your head. His chest felt hot and sweaty against your back, instantly raising your body temperature. You giggled, knowing exactly which sweaty athlete this was. You and Tendou had become quite close, despite spending less time with him sexually, at least, during the last month. It seemed as though you were never really alone anymore and Tendou was always around you. It was nice, he had become a great friend to you. The two of you were always flirting back and forth and unlike Ushijima, it seemed as though Tendou really cared about you, both emotionally and physically. He always made sure you came before him and that you were alright after one of your umm...managerial obligations, whereas Ushijima didn’t care if you came at all. Long story short, you always enjoyed the time you spent with Tendou.

A few words were said per the usual by the captain and practice was dismissed. Tendou, still holding onto you from behind, moved his hand further down to your lower stomach, began rubbing gently, and craned his neck down to whisper in your ear, “ya wanna get outta here?”. You could hear the smirk behind his words as his hot breath blew against your ear.

“Mhm”, you murmured eagerly, missing your time with Tendou.

“Good”, he hummed in response, “because there’s something I’d like to give ya,” He accentuated his dirty talk by moving his hand even lower, “right here.” To say you had butterflies was an understatement. It was crazy what a couple of words could reduce you to, but here you were.

You walked back over to the bench to pick up your bag, but was intercepted by Ushijima who had a proposition.

“Come back with me to my room”, he offered, stepping close enough to make you crane your neck up. You looked behind you at Tendou, he was laughing with Semi, unaware that you were about to ruin his night. It’s not that you didn’t want to fuck Tendou, you did, very much actually. That’s just how whipped you are for Ushijima.

“But I already told Tendou that I’d-”, you started.

“Go make up some excuse and then wait for me outside of the locker room.” he interrupted while he started for the gym doors. Ushijima was hardly in the mood to share you tonight, or ever really. You watched him leave while standing and staring, awkwardly contemplating what to say to Tendou. You mustered up the courage to walk over to him, smiling and saying goodnight to Semi as you passed him on his way out.

“Hey, umm, I just remembered that I’ve got a ton of homework that’s due tomorrow and I just think I should probably-”

“What did Ushijima just say to you?” he caught you off guard with his question, although you should have been expecting it.

“Nothing, I just have a lot of homework.” you quickly replied.

Tendou rolled his eyes, “Come on, we’re closer than that, you don’t have to lie to me.” His hands were placed on his hips in an annoyed fashion.

You remained silent, thinking of anything you could say to ease the tension.

“Ok, I’ll say something then. Are you dating Ushijima or something?”

You shook your head.

“Ok...so then last I checked you were still the team manager, would that be correct? Meaning you’re not just Ushijima’s to play with? Cuz there are other guys on the team that are stressed out too, if that’s what we’re even calling it anymore.”

You blushed at this choice of words. “You don’t understand, I-” you started again.

“I think I do understand actually. And just so you know, he’s never going to give you what you want. You think you’re the first girl to fall for him?” He scoffed. “I mean, fuck,” he ran his taped up fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “It just gets old, ya know?” Tendou looked so hurt and angry. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it promptly and turned on his heel to leave. You reached to grab his arm before he could slip out of your grasp.

“Wait, Tendou...please.” you whispered into his sleeve, despite being the only two left in the vast gymnasium. “I don’t want things to be like this either. You,” you paused to collect your thoughts. “You’re my friend and I love all the time that we get to spend together. I always have the best time with you. But I can’t help liking Ushijima. So please don’t be mad at me,” you prayed into his arm, still gripping at his sleeve.

He finally turned around to face you, taking a deep inhale, he looked down into your wide, pleading eyes while exhaling through his nose.

“Fuck, don’t look at me like that.” he looked away from you.

“Look at you, how?” You prodded, widening your eyes and moving closer to him.

“You know exactly how.” he smirked, bringing his hands to rest at your sides, lightly rubbing his thumbs in soothing circular motions. Beginning at the bottom of his abdomen you begin running your hands up his stomach, to his chest, shoulders, and finally around his neck. Standing on your tippy toes you pull him down to your level.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you breathed in his ear.

“Please,” he replied, his hands making their way down to your ass.

“You’re the one that I think about. It’s your hands that I imagine are touching me when I’m touching myself. You always make me feel so good, Tendou.”

“Ughh why are you doing this to me?” He whined, tipping his head back. It was then that you noticed the prominent tent in his pants, poking you in the stomach.

You’d never seen Tendou so flustered in the short time that you’d known him. He was usually the one making you flustered, not the other way around. It was a nice change of pace. It was also refreshing to know you had a kind of power over him, the kind to make him lose his mind.

“You sure you can’t bail on him?” He asked, hope gleaming in his red eyes. It made you pause to think about your options, a wicked idea popped into your head.

“Come wait with me?” you began pulling his arm towards the gym doors. He looked confused, but followed you anyway. Maybe you needed to give Ushijima a little push, it’s only a bonus that you get to makeout with Tendou too.

_____

The concrete bricks felt cold against the backs of your legs as Tendou shoved you against the locker room corridor hallway, the entrance to the room just around the corner. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, protecting it from the hard brick while the other pressed bruises into your waist. His chapped lips scraped against yours in a heated kiss, tongues fighting for dominance, his eventually winning as you whined into his mouth. He broke the kiss to stroke his own ego, his hands trailing down your sides to play with the waistband of your shorts.

“So you really think about my hands touching you when you play with that cute little cunt?”

“Please Tendou”, you moaned in response.

“I think you’ve had enough attention for today, fucking teasing me for the last fifteen minutes. Hell, the last couple weeks actually. You fucking rile me up just to go fuck some other dude. You like being a little slut? Hmm?”

You were at a loss for words. As much as his words were turning you on, you knew there was some truth behind them. He was onto your antics and done with them.

“You think I don’t know why we’re making out right by the locker rooms? Are you trying to make Ushijima feel like he’s missing out or something? Being all cute with me to show him how good of a girlfriend you’d be? Well fuck that shit. Get on your knees slut.”

He removed his hand from your waistband and brought them to your shoulders guiding you down to your knees. You couldn’t even rest on your calves, you had to stand up as tall as you could on your knees to be eye level with the imprint in his shorts.

“Fuck, it doesn’t take much, does it?” He scoffed as he pulled his shorts down to reveal his hard, heavy cock.

“Aw you didn’t think we’d take it this far, didja? Better make this quick if you don’t want your boyfriend to catch us!” Tendou tilted his head to the side, a smirk plastered on his face while he caressed the top of your head.

You opened your mouth to lap up the precum on his tip, swirling your tongue along the soft skin on the head of his cock.

“Nah, I don’t feel like being teased anymore today.” Tendou spoke as he readjusted his grip on your head, scooting you back until you were trapped between the painted brick wall and his body. You didn’t have a moment to adjust before his cock was plugging up your throat, making you gag around him. The pace started brutally, shoving in and out of your mouth. It was all you could do to keep up, running your tongue against the engorged vein on the underside of his cock. He never eased up until you tapped his thigh signifying you had enough.

“Too much?” he condescended. You looked back up at him with watery eyes, swallowing as many breaths as you could before it all started over again.

“This would have been much nicer for both of us if you hadn’t ditched me, I would’ve made you feel so good, baby.” He paused to take in your appearance, you looked so pretty like this. Your hair was a mess, eyes watery, lips so fucking swollen, drool dripping down the sides of your mouth, your chest heaving, and he had a great view down your shirt. Is this what his captain got to see everyday? The thought filled him with rage. If he had known he’d come to feel this way about you, he would’ve just asked you out, not asked you to be the manager. Ushijima wouldn’t have ever noticed you had it not been for him! Fuck, that’s annoying.

“Ya ready for a little more?”

You smiled at him through bated breaths, nodding your head. Things hadn’t gone exactly to plan, but you were still having a good time. You opened your mouth, closed your eyes, and stuck out your tongue, ready for whatever he had to give you. Tendou bent down into a squat until his mouth hovered just above yours. You felt something warm and sticky hit your tongue, you opened your eyes only to find a thin line of spit connecting Tendou’s lips with the liquid pooling in your mouth. Did he just spit in your mouth? Before you could say anything he was back on his feet, cock in his hand, rolling it in the spit laying on your tongue. He inched his way back into your throat, watching your eyes water with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck you’re gonnna make me cum if you keep looking at me like that.” He continued thrusting, your throat convulsing around his cock.

“You’re gonna leave here with a tummy full of cum, ok sweetie?” His breaths and thrusts were becoming stuttered, he was close.

“You’re gonna fuck Ushijima with my cum swirling around in your stomach.” He whimpered, talking himself into an orgasm. With his hips giving one final thrust, you felt the back of your throat flood with cum. Tendou held his hips flush to your mouth for a few seconds, emptying himself completely into your stomach. He hissed as he pulled your head off of his now oversensitive cock.

“Lemme see.” he sighed. You stuck out your tongue, displaying your empty mouth to him.

“Mmm good girl.” He offered you his hand to help you up off of your knees. He tucked himself back into his pants as the locker room door creaked open.

“That’s my queue!” Tendou pulled you in for one final kiss, moaning as the taste of his cum hit his tongue. And with that, he shrugged his backpack onto his shoulders and took off walking down the hallway.

_____

You walked face first into a warm chest when you rounded the corner leading to the locker room door, looking for Ushijima. Looks like you had found him. His hair was still damp from the shower, his body was warm and humid through his clothes.

“Are you ready to go?” He asked.

“Yea-” you cleared your throat. “Yeah!” That’s better. Your voice was horse and your throat was sore.

Ushijima noted your appearance. Your hair was messy and your makeup was smudged. Your lips were bright red and your chin was glistening. He took your hand in his to begin the quiet walk to his dorm room. He heard footsteps in the opposite direction, only to turn around to see Tendou walking away from the two of you, a slight pep in his step and unknownst to Ushijima a smug look on his face.

#tendou satori x reader #tendou satori x reader smut #tendou satori smut #tendou smut #tendou x reader smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader smut #ushijima wakatoshi x reader smut #ushijima smut #shiratorizawa #shiratorizawa smut

309 notes · View notes

fweasleyswhore · 3 years

Text

Commitments - Smut

pairing: Oliver Wood, Fred Weasley, George Weasley x fem!reader (no incest just sharing)

a/n: I would like to do a pt 2 to this because I just have so much more I can fit into this dynamic and I like it (hornhee disease really takin over)

word count : 4.9k

warning: smut, 18+ themes, face fucking (male recieving), oral and fingering (female recieving), unprotexted sex -wrap before you tap kids-, choking, dom/sub themes, slight bdsm themes, subby reader, titles are given, its pure filth, friends with benefits relationship

mature readers only, this has heavier themes in it and i only want people who are completely ok with those themes reading

My head pounded and my stomach growled. It was the first feeling I registered as I opened my eyes. I was cold, hungry, and in pain. I blinked a few times, pulling my head up from its position on the table where I had been napping. I focussed my eyes on my unfinished potions essay. Groaning I rubbed my eyes. Not only did I not finish it, but I also fell asleep. It was due in two days and I had barely started. I still needed to-

Quidditch Practice. The potions essay fell to the depths of my mind as I scoured the library walls for a clock. Unsuccessful in finding one, I decided I was probably only late. Shoving my papers into my bag I ran out of the library, ignoring wandering stares from students I made my way to the changing rooms.

The door flung open and slowed down for the first time, panting slightly I made it over to the lockers, ready to get out my equipment. I picked up my shaky hands to do the combination when a voice interrupted me.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Oliver spoke. Based on the volume of his voice and the slight temperature change in the air, he was right behind me. Pulling my bottom lip between my lip I turned around, his toned chest was dripping, a towel hung low on his hips and his hair was ruffled slightly and damp. Our bodies were merely inches apart and I could see the anger in his eyes as I looked up at him.

“Ollie…” I tried but my nickname for him only caused an annoyed look to grace his features.

“Don’t,” His voice was stern and it made me feel cold. “You knew how important practice was today but you skipped anyway. We play Slytherin in two days! Where were you? Giving our play strategies to Adrian Pucey probably.” He rolled his eyes and walked next to me. He turned his attention to his locker, presumably to get clothes as I was left there with my mouth feeling dry and a ball of guilt in my stomach replacing my hunger.

“I fell asleep in the library, I don’t have an excuse,” I spoke truthfully and watched my hands as I spoke afraid to meet his gaze. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately and I dozed off. I really am sorry.”

He sighed and I wished at that moment I could crawl inside myself and disappear. “L/N, I don’t play favorites, you know this, but you are an essential part of this team. In this practice, we were working in groups, Fred George and I practically sat there the entire time because you were missing from our group. The other chasers were running well-needed drills and we had devised a strategic plan that would push not only you but the three of us too and you weren’t there. Today’s practice was a waste of time for us.” His words hurt me, they were filled with anger and it wasn’t a feeling he had ever directed at me.

“Ollie I truly am so sorry. I know this and I wish there was anything I could do to make it up to you. I know how stressed you are about the game, I just, I’m so sorry.” I finally looked up and he was facing me again, his locker forgotten. He was close to me again, his body heaved as he breathed heavily.

“Stress relief?” He asked, causing me to furrow my brows. Before I could ask him what he meant he spoke again. “You are right, I am stressed, that’s why I’m asking if you will help me with stress relief.”

I nodded understandably. I couldn’t fight the smile that found its way to my face as I realized what he was asking for. “You want me to massage your shoulders Wood?” I asked teasingly. He let out a short breath before taking a step forward. He toward over me, our chests almost flush as his hand caressed my cheek. His touch was sending shivers down my spine and butterflies to erupt in my stomach. Oliver was a good friend of mine, I always left my lingering eyes on him for too long but never admitted my feelings for him. I wasn’t sure if they were real feelings or pure lust. Being on the quidditch team I was never sure if I liked him or seeing his half-naked body as he ran down drills.

“Not what I had in mind,” I bit my lip as the nerves began to build up. His hand trailed down my cheek and under my jaw which he grasped semi firmly, pulling my face up to his. Our lips met in a messy heated kiss. I gasped into his mouth as my hand found its way to his neck pulling him closer to me. His legs parted my own and he pushed his hips flush against mine. An unintentional moan slipped from my mouth at the contact but that didn’t stop him, if anything it fueled his motions. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth, it was a short fight that he quickly won. He pulled away suddenly, my face remained in his grip, the stern hand he had on my face caused my lips to part slightly. I looked up at him, blinking my lashes and grinding my hips softly onto his leg that was positioned in between my legs.

“I want this but I need to know you do too.” His voice was usually cheery but now it was stern and low, a side of him I had never seen and god I wished I did sooner. I pushed my hips down with more force, the friction finally hitting where I need it most and I moaned.

“Godric, yes Oliver, yes, yes, yes.” His gaze was cold and his face didn’t change when I gave my answer, instead he pushed his thigh harder into me, adding pressure I didn’t know I needed. “Fuck.” I whimpered shutting my eyes.

“Tsk, Tsk,” He tutted, pulling my eyes open I looked up at him. “If you continue to have a dirty mouth like that I’ll fill it up. Understood?” Growing wetter at his words I nodded feverishly. “Words darling.” He pushed his thigh into me harder. I let out a short breath, trying to compose myself.

“Y-Yes Sir.”

“Good girl. Keep being good maybe I will forget about the punishment I had planned for your absence.” I let out a whimper at his praise, the promise of punishment striking my core, had he thought of this before? He smirked down at me as I began to rut my hips against his thigh. Occasionally he would pull his leg back causing me to whine only to push it back with more force than before causing my legs to lose feeling as the pleasure built up. We were so wrapped up in our display we didn’t hear the two prominent footsteps grow closer until they were right next to us.

“Bloody hell.” Geroge’s voice interrupted. I opened my eyes and pulled Oliver against me to shield myself, in doing so I could feel the prominent bulge that formed under his not so restraining towel. “We heard Y/N came to the locker room and Fred and I were half sure you were killing her, not…” He trailed off and I watched as his eyes looked me up and down, my hair was no doubt a mess and Oliver’s leg was still in between mine applying a wonderful but also horrible pressure to my clit.

“Glad you’re not dead Y/N, but if getting off is what you wanted you could have always just come to my dorm,” Fred spoke from beside George. Leaning against the other row of lockers he looked significantly more comfortable than George, his trademark smirk plastered his face and his eyes kept flickering to where Oliver’s leg was positioned. I grew hot at his words as I looked between the twins. My eyes flickered up to Oliver who was giving both boys, especially Fred, a hard glare. Before I could protest Oliver’s hand found my hip and he pushed my hips into his thigh, pulling me forward into a rocking motion. I reacted by throwing my head back and letting out a moan, the feeling was too good to hide it. I didn’t let myself get too lost in the pleasure as I remembered our audience. Pulling my head back I eyed the boys with half-lidded eyes. Oliver was still guiding my hips against his thigh, his eyes were trained on my face as I whimpered trying to blink and focus on what was happening, my brain was fighting not wanting to stop but also worried about Fred and George’s presence.

Fred’s eyes were wide and hungry, he was still leaning against the lockers but his eyes were trained on the way my body moved. George was too watching, he took his brother’s stance, leaning on the lockers next to me. I could see two significant tents forming in both of their trousers, George’s hand slid into his pocket and he silently palmed himself at my display.

Seeing that they were enjoying themselves I let my worries dissipate, throwing my head back I moved my hips in time with Oliver’s guiding hands. Oliver ducked his head and began sucking on my neck. Rutting my hips faster I became more vocal, Fred and George let out small grunts here and there that I assume was due to their hands work which only egged on my ministrations. Soon enough the feeling became too overwhelming to bear, my legs began to shake and my breathing was becoming labored. “Ollie please, I need to-” My words were cut short as Oliver harshly nipped at my neck causing me to gasp.

“That’s not my name.” He whispered in my ear. I felt his arms stop their guidance slowing me down.

“Please Sir, please let me cum.” I begged submissively, not worried about the whine in my voice but rather the orgasm that was so close which was starting to vanish.

His hands grasped my hips with a different purpose now and he brought me back to the same speed that had me whimpering and moaning a few seconds ago.

“What do you think guys? Shall we let Y/N cum? Has she earned it?” I snapped my eyes open looking between the three boys frantically, letting out whines as Oliver applied more pressure with his thigh.

“I’m not sure she has,” Fred spoke up, he had a drunken look of hunger that made me shiver.

“I don’t think so.” George agreed.

“What a shame,” Oliver said looking down at me. “Guess you have to wait, darling.” With those few words, he held my hips firm and removed his thigh from me. I wouldn’t be surprised if his thigh had gotten wet through my trousers but I was too upset to be concerned with that at the moment. I whined lightly at the loss of contact and tried to stabilize my shaky legs.

“How can I earn it?” I looked between the boys who all adorned with wide grins. When I got no response I decided to push a little. “If you don’t tell me I’ll just get myself off.” All three boys lost their grins, not completely but their eyes went dark at my words, and they stood up straighter, they watched my hands as they trailed down to my trousers, popping the button.

“Brats don’t get rewards,” George said softly from next to me. His hand grasped mine and halted my motions, his grip was iron tight as he looked down at me. I angled my body so I was facing him, with my free hand I cupped him through his trousers.

“Then tell me what to do, sir.” I looked up at him with the most innocent face I could muster, cocking my head to the side slightly. I’m sure the markings on my neck from Oliver ruined the innocent facade a little bit but watching George swallow hard and breathe heavily through his nose was enough to tell me it was working.

“On your knees, now.” His voice was firm and it sent shivers down my spine as I sunk to my knees. My face was level with George’s clothed cock, I placed my hands behind my back and looked up at him waiting for permission. He brought his hand down, pulling my head up from my chin, he swiped my bottom lip with his thumb. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”

I smiled at the name, undoing his pants with ease I heard a slight groan as I pulled them down freeing his erection a bit. He was big, much bigger than I’ve had before. I tried to swallow my nerves as I pulled him out and stroked him slowly. I wrapped my lips around his tip, circling the tip with my tongue that elicited a moan from above me. I smiled and began to take him, or as much as I could. He hit the back of my throat before I got to his base, I gagged lightly and began to bob my head, stroking what was left with my hand. I felt a foreign hand in my hair, straining my eyes I looked up to see Oliver pulling some strands of my hair back. I rubbed my thighs together my arousal building to extreme heights.

“Fuck,” George moaned. He pulled out enough so his tip rested against my lips. “Do you think you can take all of me?” I stroked him slowly as I thought to myself.

“Will it get me my reward,” I asked in a sweet tone. He opened his mouth to reply so I kitten licked his tip, twisting my wrist as I continued to pump him. His words were cut off by a sharp intake of breath as he hissed.

“Definitely, and if you stop being a brat it will probably get you two.” I smiled at his response and pulled back my hand, opting to rest both of them on my thighs. Opening my mouth I relaxed my jaw and stuck my tongue out. George took his dick and slapped my tongue with it a few times.

“Such a good girl, so ready for me aren’t you, whore?” He asked with a devilish smirk. I nodded and let out a small involuntary whine at his words.

“Such a little slut, you’re gonna let him use you like that?” Fred asked. He walked over, his dick now free from its restraints he pumped it slowly. He ran his fingers through my hair, grabbing it tightly and pulling my head back to face him, his harshness made me whine and I squeezed my thighs together, growing wetter. “You like this don’t you? Such a dirty girl.” He let go of my hair and my head fell forward, George’s dick slapping my cheek lightly in the process.

“Our dirty girl.” Oliver praised smoothing my hair. I smiled before opening my mouth again, making eye contact with George to let him know I was ready. He smiled and slid in slowly, I wrapped my mouth around him and tried to maintain my composure as he began to slide down my throat. I gagged lightly which caused him to groan and go deeper. I breathed out through my nose as my eyes began to well up, I closed them and focussed on keeping my throat open for him.

Suddenly I felt a hand on my thigh, opening my eyes, blinking some tears away. I could make out Fred smiling as he kneeled next to me. I shut my eyes spreading my legs for him. He dipped his hand into my trousers tracing my lips from outside my panties. I moaned at the contact around George making him groan.

“You’re getting off on this aren’t you, completely soaked for us,” Fred whispered in my ear pushing my panties to the side. I moaned again which caused George to pick up his pace. I was gagging and tears were streaming down my face but I was enjoying it so much. Fred circled my clit with his nimble fingers making me gag and moan more but I didn’t care. George’s thrusts were becoming erratic and I knew he would come soon. Purposely swallowing around him caused him to meet his end. He buried his dick inside of my throat, my nose pressed up against his abdomen I moaned, swallowing his cum that shot down my throat. He pulled out of me, a trail of spit followed connecting us until it broke, slapping against my chin. Panting, I gasped for air and leaned my head on Fred’s shoulder. Fred picked his speed up on my clit causing me to yell out his name. He continued his brutal pace and I felt my orgasm catching up to me yet again.

“Please, George,” My words were cut off by a moan and I jerked my head back. “Please I’m going to cum I need your permission.” Fred was chuckling in my ear from my desperation but I couldn’t care right now. My legs were shaking and my abdomen was cramping up as I continued to fight it off.

George knelt in front of me, grabbing my neck with a strong hand he pulled my head forward. I fought against my body to open my eyes and look at him. “Cum for us, cum like the whore you are.” As he spoke he increased the pressure on my neck. My eyes rolled back as my orgasm washed over me, I shook violently, screaming out I felt myself release. Fred didn’t stop his fingers, they continued his brutal pace and his smirk grew as I began to shake from overstimulation.

“Good whore.” Fred whispered pulling his hand away from my core. I leaned back against Oliver’s leg and watched as Fred sucked his fingers clean. Oliver looked down at me with his dark eyes, filled with lust and hunger. Fred linked his arm around my waist and pulled me up. We walked over to a bench at the end of the row of lockers, he laid me down on my back. I giggled to myself watching him struggle to pull my trousers off. My laughter was cut short as he landed a short slap to my bare pussy, I moaned at the harsh contact.

“Don’t be a brat.” He warned and I nodded. I pulled my shirt off and unhooked my bra. Fred inserted a finger inside of me, slowly he began to pump in and out before adding another one, I moaned at the light stretch as he pumped faster, curling them to hit my G-spot.

“Such pretty moans.” George praised. He was knelt beside me and began to massage my breasts. I gasped as he began to suck on my nipple. Pulling my hands up I ran my fingers through his hair. Oliver stood on my other side, he was slowly pumping his cock at the scene below him. I felt Fred pull his fingers out and I whined at the loss. Fred spit directly onto my clit, I felt the liquid drip down and mix with my own juices.

“Spread your legs for me, darling,” I did as he said and opened my legs for him. “So pretty, princess, are you ready for me?”

“Yes, please,” I whined out. George was now attacking my neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh that took my breath away. I stopped breathing completely as Fred pushed into me. Slowly he filled me to the hilt, he had to be the same size as George. I felt him bump my cervix when his hips met mine. My mouth was open in a silent scream as he let out a slow groan. He stayed there for a moment, letting me get used to the stretch that came with his impressive size. When he felt me relax he began to slowly thrust in and out of me.

“Faster, fuck, please faster.” I moaned out. He quickly obliged by setting a ruthless pace that had my brain cloudy with the pleasure I was feeling. Oliver leaned down, kissing me roughly, our teeth clashed due to my shaking from Fred’s pace but that didn’t stop either of us.

“Such a whore, putting this show on for me, is this supposed to make me forgive you?” He asked, one of his hands trailed down my torso, he left feather-light touches on my breasts.

“Y-Yes all for you.” I struggled out. He suddenly pinched my nipple, pulling it lightly causing me to moan out loudly.

“Hm, all for me? You let them down too, it’s not very kind if it’s all for me now is it?” I nodded in agreement unable to speak as Fred propped my leg onto his shoulder, the new angle intensifying the pleasure I was feeling. “What are we going to do about that then?” Oliver asked.

I opened and closed my mouth like a fish out of water. I couldn’t conjure up a sentence much less a viable answer that would satisfy him as my orgasm steadily approached.

“What a shame, it looks like I will have to punish you after all.” He whispered in my ear. I moaned at his words. Fred continued to hit that spot deep inside me that sent me closer to heaven and hell at the same time.

“I need to, please, I-” My words drowned out into a moan as Fred thrust harder.

“You need to cum, slut?” Fred asked, words spaced out with his thrusts. His hair was dripping with sweat, his chest was glistening with sweat, somewhere in the process he had lost his shirt.

“Yes, yes please!” I begged.

I could hear the smirk on his face as he replied. “Cum for me princess.” My second orgasm washed over me. My legs shook and I tightened my walls, screwing my eyes shut I let out a long moan as Fred continued to pump in and out of me, riding out my orgasm. His hips began to slow and he stopped, flush against me I felt his dick twitch, shooting long ropes of cum painting my insides.

Fred’s hands rubbed up and down my thighs, soothing their shaking. He kissed my knee and unhooked my leg from his shoulder, gingerly pulling out, I whined feeling sensitive and empty at the loss. Fred walked to the side of me, replacing Oliver who was now out of sight. He kneeled beside me and stroked my hair. “You did so good.” He praised.

George hummed softly, his head rested on my stomach under my breast where he was leaving soft kisses earlier beforehand. “Such a pretty slut for us.” He added.

“She may be pretty but that’s not going to make up for what she did.” Oliver said, he was circling his hands on my thighs, his towel now long forgotten, his erection was prominent and it prodded my legs as they shook. His tip was red and needy with precum, I could only assume how much it ached.

“Hm and what did she do?” Fred asked, feigning confusion, a slight smirk on his lips. Oliver had a smile playing on his lips as his hands trailed toward my core. He started to tease my folds, rubbing around spreading the shared release between me and Fred everywhere except my throbbing clit.

“She skipped practice, you know that.” Oliver growled.

“I didn’t mean to-” I trued but Oliver suddenly slapped my pussy, the harsh contact with my clit made me moan.

“You skipped.” He said sternly. I took that as a signal to shut up so I nodded, feeling the excitement buzz in my veins. My pussy throbbed in anticipation as his fingers ghosted over my entrance and up to my clit.

“Hm, I didn’t think about that, should I have punished you princess?” Fred asked. Before I could answer George attached his lips to my nipple, he lapped it and bit it lightly causing me to gasp. He pulled off with a pop, grinning.

“I should have bent you over my knee, showed you who you belong too.” George purred, he trailed up so his breath fawned over the shell of my ear. “Would you have liked that sweetheart? Being so marked and bruised you can’t sit straight? Everytime you sit down you will be reminded of the little whore you are for us, how you bent over willingly, swallowed my cock and came on Freddies fingers. You would like that wouldn’t you?” His voice was deep and it sent shivers through me and took the air from my lungs.

“I think she likes that George.” Oliver said grinning. “Shes practically dripping.” Suddenly he inserted two fingers into me, pumping at a relentless pace. Sounds of squeltching filled the air as he began to hit that spot inside of me, over and over again. I screwed my eyes shut feeling blissed out as George nipped my ear whispering small taunts while massaging my breasts, Fred on my other side whispering praise and playing with my hair.

“You like being used don’t you?” Geroge would ask, licking the shell of my ear.

“Such a good girl, you gonna moan princess?” Fred would add, kissing my cheek.

They continued the process until I was a writhing mess. I was about to ask for permission to cum when Oliver wrapped his lips around my clit, sucking and flicking it with his tongue that just sent me over the edge. I came for a third time, shaking crying out, I felt a few tears fall from eyes as he didn’t slow down until I was convulsing and my eyes were rolled back in my head. Oliver pulled back and I gasped for air now that I was given a slight break. Suddenly he slammed into me, his dick stretched me in a delicious way. I yelped at the sudden contact. He didn’t give me time to adjust like Fred, instead he pulled out nearly all the way before slamming back into me.

“O-Ollie.” I moaned out throwing my head back.

“What do you call me?” He growled, slapping my clit lightly and thrusting in forcefully. He halted his motions for a moment, grinding his hips into me and it felt heavenly.

“I’m sorry Sir! Please keep going!” I whined.

“Good girl.” Oliver praised pulling out an slamming back into me. He continued his relentless pace, slapping my clit and tits, pinching my nipples, occasionally leaning over to nip at my leg. I alternated between kissing Fred and George who whispered dirty things to me and swallowed the moans I left in their mouths. I felt Oliver speed up and I felt yet again that I was teetering on the edge.

“Sirs, please I need to cum,” I whined looking between all three boys. Fred and George nodded with cheeky grins and my gaze fell forward to Oliver between my legs. Oliver grabbed my hip with one hand, reaching down and grabbing my neck with the other in grip that could bruise.

“Cum then, cum on my dick slut.” Oliver grunted tightening his grip on my neck. I gave in, letting go and cumming harder than I have before. I let go, squirting onto his torso. Oliver kept pumping into me riding out my orgasm until he pulled out, cumming on my pussy, throwing white ropes on my glistening cunt. I was breathless and lightheaded, Oliver let go of my neck, my head fell back against the bench and I panted. Oliver spread my legs whistling lowly to himself.

“So pretty.” He muttered before ducking his head down and running a long stripe up my folds with his tongue. I jolted at the feeling, my body spasming as his tongue hit my clit. I felt him suck lightly and I whined. That’s when he pulled his head up, and leaned over me, his lips were in a tight line and his body caged me. He took one of his hands and placed two fingers on my chin, applying light pressure signaling for me to open my mouth. I did, sticking my tongue out as I made eye contact with him. He spat our combined juices into my mouth, some of it getting on my chin. He used his thumb to lap it up, wiping it on my tongue.

“Swallow it.” He commanded. I did as I was told, opening my mouth to show him when I was done. “Good slut.” He praised.

“Beautiful.” George added.

“Breathtaking.” Fred quipped. I felt my cheeks heat up at their praise.

“T-Thank you.” I said timidly. Oliver smiled, it was his usual soft smile that made me melt. He stood up, offering a hand I gladly took and stood with him on my shaky legs. I slipped slightly and George stood on my side grabbing my hip. I felt Fred’s gentle hand on my back offering his support should I need it.

They cleaned me up, offering support and praise every second of the way. The game with Slytherin went well, Gyrffimdor won by a landslide, and once again we found ourselves in the locker room together celebrating.

2K notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 3 years

Note

Is it ok if I request a Law x Yonko reader? For once the reader is badass and strong 😎 has her own crew and is well respected yet she fell in love with Trafalgar Water D. Law

Hi!! Of course! I fell in love with the idea. I think Law deserves a strong woman on his side, and this type of dynamic is one of my favorites!! It was intended to be a OS but I got too invested on the story so I decided to part it in at least another part that I'll be posting in a few days. I hope you don't mind! Plus I included some NSFW too, because the tension between the Yonkou and Law was really high! I hope you enjoy it and stay tuned for the second part if you like it 💖 Thanks for reading and supporting my work!

NSFW - Trafalgar D. Water Law x FemYonkou! Reader - PART 1

TW: NSFW. 18+ Minors DNI. Rough and unprotected sex. Chocking.

WC: 4.1K

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31973146

Part 2

Part 3

Final/Part 4

“My dear captain, someone is on the coast!!”, your most loyal nakama comes running through the door of your huge castle with the news. “Mmm, I wonder who it could be…”, you tell her. “I’m afraid whoever we’ve been waiting for has arrived, Captain”, she says, looking at the ground. You have always hated how they are afraid to look directly to your eyes, even though you consider them your equals. But you guess it’s because of your powerful aura, or the respect they have for you.

“Let’s be a good host. His crew can come to the castle once we have talked. He would probably be staying the night, so tell the boys to prepare the royal guest room, ok?”, you order your first commander with a lovely smile.

You laugh, some say your laughter is something similar to a demon, but hey, that’s part of your identity as a yonkou, so… You wait for your guest sitting on your throne, admiring your brilliant rings. Suddenly the big door in front of you opens and there he is, the brat you’ve been waiting for.

You lick your lips, wondering when you will be tasting that sweet candy. No man or woman could ever resist your beauty, or your power.

The steps of that tattooed punk echoes all around the huge room. He is wearing a black coat that covers his whole body from his neck to his ankles, a funny looking white hat, and a big katana over his shoulder. “I hope this is not the only bigger thing he carries…” you think while smiling at him, trying to admire those grey eyes you saw on his wanted poster. But he does not show them, he walks slowly, covering his gaze with the visor of his hat. “Oh, you are trying to look mysterious, I get it punk”, you say to yourself.

He is now in front of you, and finally looks at you. He is even hotter than what you thought. It surprised you when your den den mushi rang and it was him requesting an audience with you, but even though you know this brat is dangerous, you accepted it right away.

“So, Trafalgar D. Water Law, huh? what brings you here?”, you ask him, crossing your legs and bending over a little to see his face. Your throne is a little elevated from the floor, so you look down at him.

“I’m here to ask you for an alliance”, he tells you, fixing his cold eyes on yours. “Oh, I see… an alliance. But aren’t you in one with the Mugiwaras? Why would you want an alliance with a Yonkou? Didn’t you lose your Shichibukai title because of an alliance? ”, you inquire him.

“Heh, I see you have more information about me than I thought…”, he tells you with sneering contempt. That pisses you off, hard. Who do you think you are, little rookie?... You stand up, violently, solemnly. Your black feather coat over your shoulders makes a loud noise, your hair flows over your back. You start walking down the little stairs off your throne and stand up in front of Trafalgar Law. He backs up a little, even if he looks like a total badass, you are scary for him.

“Tell me Law, why do you think I am an emperor of the sea, huh? Do you think you are stronger? Do you think you can outsmart me?”, you tell him firmly, centimeters from his face. Law gasps, he is trying not to look scared, but he is, pretty much indeed. He remains silent.

“Do you think you can put me down as you did with my old friend Doffy? Ha! poor Doffy, he was pissed that his little ex retainer fucked his whole life… Well, I guess that’s what you get for not being incredibly strong and intelligent”, you smirk at him, and begin to walk. The sound of your hills resonates on Law’s head. But even if he might be a little scared, you know he is smarter and stronger than he looks, so you must be careful, especially because he is at your back.

“Why don’t we have dinner and discuss your offer?”, you tell him, this time a little more friendly. “Yeah…”, he tells you with that low voice he has, that makes you bite your lip. Of course you are curious about his proposal and his true intentions, but damn, you wish you were devouring him right now.

You turn your head to the side and tell him “Follow me”, over your shoulder. And keep walking to the dining room.

Once the two of you arrive at the dining room, a big table is waiting for you. Candles on each side of the table, several delicatessens served on silver platters. “Take a seat, please”, you invite Law to sit while you sit on yours.

Law and you are face to face on each side of the table. You bend a little over the table, with your elbows over it, and interlocking your fingers. You show yourself interested in him, smirking sexily. “So, I’m all ears. Tell me about your offering”, you say.

Law takes off his hat letting you see his disheveled black hair and adopts the same position as you. “Well, as I told you before, I want to form an alliance with you”. He is short and concise. You raise an eyebrow, what does he want from you?...

“Why? What do you want from me? and what do I get in return?”, you ask before sipping some red wine from a big crystal cup. “You will be able to defeat the other three yonkous, as long as I can see the red poneglyph you have in here”, he says straight to your face.

You widen your eyes, surprised that he knew you have such a treasure in your hands. “I’m surprised Mr. Trafalgar. You have indeed, more information than I thought… I wonder who told you about it. I’m a little concerned at this point, maybe you are some kind of undercover agent from the marines?”, you tell him, fixing your eyes on him.

Law gasps subtly, his lips part and for a moment he remains silent. He is also looking at you, and you can see a red spark in his eyes. “I’m not with the marines”, he tells you firmly. You begin to laugh and stab the bistec on your plate with the knife. “Of course you aren’t, if you were one you would have denied it instantly…”, you tell him and taste a piece of meat.

The tension floods the ambient, you want to show how dominant you can be, but at the same time you wish he were dominating you in your room.

“Fine, if I accept that means that you and the Mugiwaras will be my allies, right?”, you ask him, showing him you are sure, but deep inside wondering if you made the best decision, after all, pirates alliances are often marked with betrayal…

“That’s right”, Law tells you. “Listen to me closely, little brat. If you happen to show the slightest sign of betrayal, you will know exactly why I’m named “The Sadist”. Are we clear?”, you tell -threaten- him. “I know exactly what you are capable of. Don’t worry, I won't betray you”, he assures you, firmly.

“Let’s have a celebration, then”, you tell him and order your subordinates to bring the dessert. “I’m not a man of celebration, could you please show me my room? tomorrow morning I’ll be telling you all about my plan to take down the other yonkous”, he tells you denying your invitation to a little private party. You are upset, angry… but you won’t show it to him, so, you tell your crew members to show him his room with a big smile on your face.

Once he leaves the dining room, you walk to yours with strong steps, frustrated. "Nobody has ever refused my invitation…". A cold shower cools your annoyance a little but not enough. You snuggle into bed and fix your sight on the big ceiling of your room. "Damn brat, why is he so hot? And for what?"... you go to sleep planning the best way to catch your prey in your spiderweb. You are used to getting everything you want, and Law of course is no exception.

Morning comes and the sun outside shines more than ever. You’ve been planning the whole night on how to seduce your guest, so you order your subordinates to prepare a special breakfast next to the pool. You choose to wear a tight bikini, those who show more than what they can cover, and a white semi-transparent kimono over it… after all, he is a man. He shouldn’t be resisting the lure of your beauty.

When you get to the pool patio, he is already there having a cup of tea, with those lean long legs, wearing an unbuttoned black shirt that allows you to enjoy his tattooed chest. You contemplate the handsome man from the arcade that connects the patio with the castle. You took a finger to your lips planning the next step on your plan.

“Good morning my dear guest and ally!”, you greet him, while sitting next to him under the big umbrella. “Good morning”, he salutes you, looking at you with those intense grey eyes. You give him a side smirk and grab a slice of orange, for some reason none of you look down, and you keep staring at each other. Perhaps trying to fight for dominance, perhaps because he wanted to seduce you as much as you do.

You take the slice to your mouth, and a drop of the juice runs through the commissure of your lips. He follows the path the bead of citric trails on your mouth with his eyes. He approaches you with his hand and runs his inked thumb over your lips. The sensation of his soft surgeon fingertip over your lips feels so enticing. You wish you could suck his finger, yet, he is the one who should succumb first, not you.

The moment gets interrupted when one of your maids offers you coffee. The strong black coffee that keeps you going in the morning, sweet, caffeinated elixir that today isn’t necessary, something else keeps you energized. You gaze at the maid, with hate in your eyes for interrupting such an intense moment. You tell her with a false smile, “yes, please”. She serves you a cup and runs away, quickly, scared as hell.

Leaning on the backseat of the couch with the cup on your hand, you cross your legs, letting some skin peek through the opening of the kimono. “So, Law, tell me about your plan”, you tell him. “Right, so I’ll be staying here for a few weeks, if you don’t mind”, he informs you and keeps talking about the plan. You lick your teeth; you don’t even listen to anything about the plan. You are satisfied as you will be having your sweet candy with you for a long time…

“Perfect, so the plan is set. I’m glad we are allies, Law”, you tell him as you stand up, and walk up to him. You place your hand over his shoulder and look down at him with a smile. “Aren’t you hot? let’s enjoy the pool”, you invite him and keep walking to the edge of the pool. You untie your kimono letting it slide off to the floor. You can feel Law’s sight pinned to your back and even lower, yet he is not moving.

“Right, you are a devil fruit user” you tell him pouting, but either way you dip in the pool. When you emerge from underwater, you take your wet hair out of the face, and get out of the lido. Your bikini turns a little bit see thru and you see how Law looks directly to your now notorious erected nipples from the cold water. You have an evil grin on your face, and he seems to be enjoying every inch of your skin.

“Do you like what you see, huh?”, you tease him. He looks at you, with piercing eyes, stands up and walks up to you. “Huh?”, you say but before you could even continue with a cocky phrase, he is already grabbing you by your neck.

You gasp, ‘cause you got slightly scared, but your bossy attitude won’t let you show it. You begin to chuckle with that -demon- laughter you have. And suddenly stopping you tell him, “What do you think you are doing?”. Law squeezes your carotids even more tighter approaching his face to yours and tells you, “Don’t play with me, if you want me to fuck you just tell me”. “Let go of me”, you command him. He sets your neck free, but his nose still is almost touching yours. “Before I let you walk, you gotta show me how you crawl, brat”, you whisper to him. You celebrate internally how he has already fallen into your trap; he couldn’t resist you. Another victim, another candy to taste, this time a spicy rather than a sweet one.

Law and you keep looking at each other for several minutes more, perhaps playing a game of power, who is gonna be the first to cave in and kiss the other?... Your heart beats faster, the tension is in a way arousing, you hold yourself back while sometimes your gaze wanders over his lips… so enticing.

You were about to cave in when his den den mushi rings. He smiles at you, seductively, and turns around to pick up the transponder. You decide to leave the patio and go to your room, you are way hornier than you think, and falling into his arms that soon it’s not your style. Or so that’s what you think…

You spent the whole day in your room, thinking about your next move. Some of your commanders have come to visit you and asked you about the new alliance, but you seemed so invested in seducing Law that you forgot about your responsibilities.

The night comes, and you are getting ready for dinner. You are excited almost like a little girl, finally you are going to see that face that got your heart beating fast. You have chosen to wear a pretty, draped black dress, not so revealing yet not conservative at all. Your back is completely naked and has a slit on the side of the skirt. Your typical fine jewelry and heels that can kill if you happen to step on someone.

Law is always first in the dining room, this time accompanied by three of his most loyal nakamas. A polar bear dressed in a black suit, and two guys with hats that start drooling when they see you enter the room. The four of them stand up from their seats “Cap… captain…!”, says the one using an orca hat. “Shachi, shut up”, says the other with a hat that puts “PENGUIN” over it.

“Good night sirs, please take a seat”, you tell them. One of the menials runs to your place and moves the chair for you. “Thank you, darling. You can bring the food whenever it is ready”, you tell him, with a big smile. You usually aren’t so sweet with others, but tonight you are in a good mood for sure.

“So, you are the high officials of the Heart Pirates, huh? nice to meet you”, you tell them with your intense gaze placed on each one. The humans swallow, they are intimidated by your imposing presence. The polar bear stands up once again and shouts “AY AY, NICE TO MEET YOU! I’M BEPO!”. You are kind of overwhelmed by how noisy the Mink is, but you think it is kinda cute. Law tells Bepo to sit down and lower the voice, and the bear repeats several times how sorry he is. You giggle a little and tell him “It’s ok, Law! Bepo you are a cutie, nice to meet you”.

The food is served, and everyone starts to taste the wonderful creations of your chef team. You can’t help but peer at your prey while eating. He notices your persistent stare and fixes his eyes on yours. That piercing, grey, icy stare that makes a shiver run through your spine and you’re breathing subtly uncontrollably. No person has made you lose control before, you are known for being cruel and cold, you haven’t felt in love ever in your life, but this brat… this brat has something special.

“Guys get back to the Polar”, Law commands his nakamas. “They can stay in one of the rooms if they want, Law”, you tell him, and the guys start getting excited with red cheeks. “It’s an order, get back to the polar, please”, he orders his subordinates with a cold stare. You roll your eyes back, because you know he is protecting his crew from you, he respects your power and knows well how cruel you can be when you want something. “Fine, fine…”, Bepo, and the guys say and walk away.

“Do you want to have a drink in the garden, Law?”, you offer him after his nakamas have left the place. He looks at you and takes a few seconds to finally respond. “After you”, he tells you and you two start walking to the patio.

The blue night sky looks deep, the sound of the running water of the many fountains competes against the song of frogs and crickets. Some torches light up the path to the lawn chairs. As you walk on the deck, you ask him “Do you always carry your katana wherever you go, Law? Are you afraid of something? He responds from behind “I’m not, I simply take my precautions”. You try to sound strong and petty, but the truth is that the one who is scared is you.

When you finally take your seats on the couches, both of you cross your legs. Your dress allows some skin of your thighs to peek through, and Law can’t resist but scan your whole body with those grey eyes. You do the same, his tight jeans, seems to get even more tighter in between his legs. The unsolved sexual tension between the two of you it’s way too high to ignore, and at this point you are sure Law has on his mind the constant idea of fucking you, as much as you do.

You can’t take it anymore; you are just fed up. This is taking too damn long, you want him in between your legs, now. So, you suddenly and violently stand up, slapping the table with your hands. Law even though got a little scared, he remains still, acting swanky as always. You wait for him to say something, but he just stares. You are tired of this pestering feeling, a flame inside you burns even hotter. Law smiles at you with that cocky smirk and pats his lap. “Come here”, he tells you.

Even if you were dying to sit there, you are just too arrogant to do as a man says, and fighting against your true desires, walk away. “Damn brat”, you say to yourself while walking through the deck stepping strong so your heels sound louder in the middle of the night.

Suddenly, someone grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You have the Surgeon of Death´s face in front of yours. You gasp, he is not smirking, but his eyes show pure desire, his breathing is accelerated as much as yours. Your hand is directed to his crotch by him. You can feel his hard bulge growing under your palm. You have a side grin. And after a few seconds, he kisses you so passionately, so lustfully, so needy. His inked hands grabbing your hair, pulling your head back, letting your neck exposed so he can dig in like a beast.

“Let’s go to my room, Law”, you gasp in between steamy kisses. “Fine… Room… Shambles”, he says and you two are teletransported to your bed. You land into your mattress while Law is standing up at the feet of your bed. You smile seductively at him, full of desire when he begins to take off his black shirt. The big heart tattooed on his chest that reaches almost to his belly button, his abs slightly defined, the V that his lower stomach muscles form over his pelvis, and a little happy trail that makes you wonder where it finishes, makes you squirm and recognize how needy for this man you are. “Come here, brat”, you tell him with a beckoning finger.

Law is over you in no time, cradling your face with his hand. Your fingers trail the inked lines on his chest. He begins to kiss your neck, lower and lower, his hand is now traveling under the slit of your dress, up through your thigh and even higher. His soft hand caresses the side of your waist, while the other slowly slides off the right strap of your dress, exposing to him your breast.

His tongue plays with your nipple, and you moan his name. A string of saliva forms when slowly relieves the nipple from his lips and looks at you with intense lust. Your hands that were lingering over his bulge are now at each side of his head, and in a simple but fast movement you are now over him, straddling your hips. You grind against his sex, touring your hands over his tattooed chest. You slowly bend over him, biting his neck, playing with your tongue with the little hoops he has hanging from his ears. Law’s hand on your butt, squeezing hard your flesh.

You slide off your other strap, so your dress falls off exposing your torso and beautiful breasts to him. The black dress gets stuck on your hips and you start softly jumping over his aching dick, still trapped in his jeans. Law is sweating, he is about to burst, and you haven’t even touched his sex yet. You don’t even care about the foreplay, you want him to flood your insides, and he wants it too.

He reaches for his zipper and lowers it. You help him by pulling down his jeans and his boxers, letting free his member. To your surprise the left side of his groin area is also inked with a little sword. At first it looked suspicious, but you are so horny that instantly jump over his sex.

Your already wet panties become even wetter when you rub your sex against his. Law closes his eyes, every time your core touches the tip of his cock, like a sweet torture. Until this is too much for him and pushes you to the mattress. You flop down on your back and Law violently tears off your panties. “I’m gonna fuck the hell out of you, bitch”, he tells you gasping, and penetrates you, rough and deep.

“Mh, Law”, you whine, invaded by the pleasure his cock against your walls makes you feel. He has his teeth clenched making his mandible even more sharp. Your bodies are covered in sweat as he pounds you with hard fast thrusts. Your moans would probably make everyone in the castle wake up, but you don’t really care.

Law passes his hand on your back, lifting you as you cross your legs around his waist. You are now seated over him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, face to face, while he keeps penetrating you. The both of you reach climax, you first and then Law. Your core feels how his pulsating member empties inside it. He gets you hugged tight, and you rest your head over his shoulder enjoying how full you feel, how satisfied you feel after relieving that sexual tension between the two of you. n

Even if you insist on this being all just sex, and haven't been in love before, something about being skin to skin with a man after having sex feels better than you thought. Never in your life have you experienced being hugged to someone, so closely, so intimate. His warm breath caresses the skin of your shoulder, and you close your eyes in hope this moment never ends.

Law slowly helps you lay on bed, and he does the same. You are lying on your side while Law is on his back looking at the ceiling. You worship how his inked chest goes up and down with every inspiration and you can't help but put your hand over it. He looks at you and pulls you next to him. Your face is now over his arm, and he caresses your naked back. He probably knows this is a whole new experience for you, as you are known to be heartless… but the truth is that you have always been lonely…

PART 2

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #one piece #law one piece #law x y/n #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece x oc #law imagine #trafalgar law imagine #traffy #sashi-ya

279 notes · View notes

serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

♪ The Last Day of Summer With You

Vernon Chwe/Choi Hansol : Stargazing

“Is this where you wanted to come?” Vernon asked, staring at the empty fields of seemingly endless green grass through the car window.

Night was approaching and you two arrived at this strange yet peaceful location right after sunset. On the way here, you insisted on driving, allowing Vernon to watch the passing sunset.

“What's with that tone? Do you not like it? Is it too basic for a last day of summer hangout?” You asked jokingly, getting out of the car.

Vernon quickly followed out while shaking his head. “No, I like that it's basic. The breeze is nice up here too.”

You looked over at Vernon with a smile, putting the car keys in your pocket. You knew that Vernon was quite simple, he preferred comfort over fancy and quiet over loud, so for the last day of August, you decided to take him to this place. It was a plains area with semi-tall grass and you were able to get a beautiful view of the mountains from here.

“This place is usually packed during the summer,” You said, walking to stand next to Vernon who was busy having his jaw dropped from the stunning scenery. “That's why I wanted to take you here at the end of summer so that it wouldn't be so crowded.”

“It sure is beautiful here,” Vernon said, turning to you with a thankful smile and his arms wide open. “Thank you so much for taking me here. You surely know me best, Y/N.”

You smiled shyly. Whenever your boyfriend said things like that, your heart would go crazy, jumping from joy. You didn't hesitate to walk into his arms and press the side of your face against his chest, your arms wrapping around his waist as his large hands patted your back.

“It's not just the valley that I want you to see. Wait until night falls, that's when the beauty of this place truly comes to life.”

“Oh really?” He replied, his nose sniffing the beautiful fragrance of your hair.

In his head, he was thinking that maybe this large field of grass had fireflies. However, he wanted it to be like a surprise, so he decided not to think about it anymore and instead, laid down against the grass with you. You took out your phone and began playing some music; a mix of sentimental and nostalgic songs you picked, along with some of Vernon's favorites.

“You really know how to set the mood,” Vernon said, chuckling at how perfectly the song fit the atmosphere. “But are we just going to lay here though?”

“My main purpose for taking you here was to talk with you. You know, like how we always talk before bed, or when we're watching a movie but get distracted by our conversations that begin in the middle.”

Vernon smiled. His arm was under your neck and you had your arms wrapped around his waist as you two cuddled in the grass field.

“I always appreciated that you listened to me. Even if I don't say anything, you always know how I feel,” Vernon giggled softly for a reason that you didn't know. “Is this what you call soulmates?”

You smiled. “I guess so. I have to thank you too, Vernon, for always being by my side. You proved to me that there is hope for me even in the darkness where I can't see anything. There were so many times where it seems like I fell in a pit and couldn't climb back out, yet, each time, it's like your hand reaches for me and pulls me up.”

Vernon nodded with an embarrassed smile. He caressed your hair and wanted to just close his eyes.

You both didn't know how much time went by. Whenever you two talked like this, you guys would always lose track of time. Your eyes were closed, your arms were holding each other, and your bodies were pressed comfortably together, against the grass that swayed in the passing wind.

The conversation went on for who knows how long, you and Vernon were just thanking each other for the dumbest things, tossing back and forth the words “no, I am more thankful for you”. Finally, you both decided to end that little battle with giggles.

“I love you,” You said softly, holding him a little tighter. “I love you so much, Vernon.”

“Me too.”

You laughed a little. “Can't you say ‘I love you, Y/N’ instead of saying ‘me too’?”

Vernon giggled and said, “Okay, I love you, Y/N.”

Satisfied, you gently opened your eyes.

The surprise was ready. You didn't expect Vernon to have his eyes closed like this, but in the end, it worked out well in your favor regarding the surprise. You had only closed your eyes in the first place because you saw Vernon doing it.

You sat up from the floor and patted his knee. “Look...”

Vernon opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was a long strand of grass stuck to your hair, so the first thing he did was pluck that piece of grass out.

You turned to him and did the same, ruffling his hair, allowing the particles of green to dust off. You smiled, cupping his face. “Now, look up.”

“Up?”

Vernon, with your hands still on his face, lifted his head to face the sky, being met with a starry night. Stars were glistening, twinkling, beautiful and white, spread out amongst the black sky, almost like a painting. The moon was round and beautiful as well. It looked like he was viewing the galaxy through pictures on Google, but instead, the galaxy was shining right down on him. Mixed with black, blue, and purple, the sky was art on its own.

Vernon's jaw dropped as your hands slipped away from his face. “Wow.”

You brought your knees to your chest and placed your palms together, in a praying motion. “Quick, make a wish!”

Vernon turned to you and smiled, copying your pose. Silence passed through as you both made a quiet wish, with only the crickets chirping.

“What did you wish for?” You asked, turning to Vernon who already had his eyes open, breaking the silence between you two.

“Simple things, just to be with you forever, have you stay healthy and happy... you know, just that kind of stuff,” Vernon said, scratching the back of his neck shyly. “What about you?”

You buried your face in your knees shyly. You two were definitely soulmates.

Vernon whined, scooting a bit closer to you. “Come on, tell me.”

“The same thing you wished for,” You replied, your voice muffled. “Instead, I wished to stay with YOU forever, and have YOU be healthy and happy.”

Vernon laughed. “Oh, seriously??”

You both laughed as you lifted your head. Vernon wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him again.

You both stared up at the sky with smiles.

“The moon is beautiful, isn't it?” You said softly, staring at the moon. It was so round and bright, with the stars surrounding it, making it shine even more.

“Wonwoo told me that that phrase indirectly means ‘I love you’.”

“Well, I do love you,” You replied, pecking him on the cheek. Your hands were wrapped around your knees.

Vernon smiled. “I love you too.”

Vernon planted a kiss on your forehead and then turned to the sky again, gazing at the beautiful night sky. His hand rubbed your shoulder softly as your head laid gently on his shoulder.

There was a comfortable silence.

Under the galaxy-like sky, holding each other, you and Vernon beautifully ended this last summer night.

-----------------

a/n: The Dino fic I'm working on might surpass 16k words at this rate; I've tried to lower it a little but currently, it's as 11k words. + In the soop tomorrow! I'm so excited for it! I also plan to binge the new short kdrama D.P. + After I finish this tldoswy series, I'll close my requests because I want to work on them, plus, school is coming soon. My younger siblings already started.

77 notes · View notes

eyeless-cunt · 3 years

Note

taking advantage of the fact that the request are open haha, how would the creepypastas react if they killed their s/o accidentally? thnks love, much love 4 u

you woke up and and chose enternal suffering

TW: Death of the reader, blood, gore, angst, depressive thoughts, hintings of panic attacks, mentions of suicide,....necrophilia....?, mentions of pills, paranoia, delusions :), ect.

Jeffery:

I'm Honestly not even sure how he could have accidentally killed you? He never takes you with him when he goes out to...do his things. He certainly never raised a knife towards you and he would never kill you out of anger. So how did this even happen?

He blacked out. He was just sitting with you, laughing about nothing important. That's all he can remember. So where are you? And whose blood is he covered in right now? It's brown and crumbly, signiling that it's been a good few hours since he came into contact with it. Where are you? He wants to see you, ask what happened. He never even noticed he was holding a knife washed in blood until he stood up, the object falling from his loose hand. Did he kill someone? When? Where? Where's the body? Where are you? Is this a dream? Where are you? He turns in circles, looking for a body. Where are you? He smells that familair scent in the air--that smell that arises from the corpses he mutilates. Where are you? He peeks behind a close by tree, expecting to see a random stranger of whom may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Where are you?

THERE YOU ARE

Wobbiling legs, vacant eyes, a shaky hand outstretched towards an all too familar body. Why are you here? What's wrong with you? Shaky breaths, his heart that seems to stop for a whole few seconds--and suddenly—all too suddenly, the realization of what he's done hits him so hard he loses the feeling in his legs, falling beside your weeping corpse as you stare him in the eyes, filling him with a sense of glorified dread. The emotions that his brain can't seem to comprehend are flooding in all at once and far too fast, crippiling him with something that escaped him the night he killed his family. How did this happen? Why? What? Confusion and horror seeps into his bones and shoots him down, peircing his lungs in a way that leaves him gasping for air that he just can't seem to hold onto.

Jane:

She was just too obsessed. She went too far without looking around at her surroundings. Her hunt for Jeffery pushed her too hard. Before she knew it, she was standing over a body that she shouldn’t have been. As soon as she did it, her spiked anger flushed out of her system, a cold bucket of realization and horror washing over her. Immediately, apologies spew out of her mouth from behind her mask. She hurt her s/o out of pure anger of which she didn’t try hard enough to control. She’s so sure that you’ve just been knocked unconscious—she’s positive that your bleeding head wound isn’t fatal. No, you’ll be fine. Huh? Where’s your pulse? What?

Her nerves flare up, horror spiking back up again; as if it never went down in the first place. She’s not a delusional idiot. She doesn’t try to shake you awake. She won’t call out for you, expecting a response. Jane doesn’t pray to a dead god in the hope that you’ll awaken and smile at her, saying that you forgive her. That you know it was an accident. That you still love her. No. What she does is bury your body. She reflects the blame onto someone else. Jeffery. You were arguing with her about her continuous hunt for him. You told her that you wanted her to stop—you wanted her to forget. Jeffery caused this. He was the subject of the argument. He’s taken yet another person from her.

BEN:

How did this happen to him? To you? He should have been more careful. He should have known this would happen sooner or later. He should have stayed away from you. Why was he like this? Of course this happened to him, to you; the person he loved most. It was fine. It was alright. You were having fun. He was so happy just to be able to spend time with you. Why would he let you put in the plug? So close to him? He naturally collects electricity. He knows that. So why would he let himself stand so close to you as you plugged in the controller.

A lapse in judgement. He forgot. He was too focused on the way you looked today. You had only woken up an hour ago, a messy appearance still making his dead heart race. That’s no excuse. How did this happen to him? He knows how. So why can’t he feel anything? Why can’t he move his limbs? Why does he feel worse now than he had when he was drowning at the bottom of a lake? Why is he feeling like that but also simultaneously feeling nothing at the same time? Did he break? Yeah. Staring down at this body, he starts to think he might have broke. He might have just died again. He wants to die again. Please let him die again.

EJ:

He was careful with you for years. He had to be. He could break a hand just by holding it so easily. He could lose to his cravings and sink his teeth into your neck at any time. He could rip your head off with no effort at all if he were to brush your hair with anything other than small, fleeting and gentle touches. So how did this happen? He’s always been so careful. His eating schedule always revolved around you. He would have to leave for a few days so he could eat away from you, so he usually held off on leaving for months if he could.

He knew he shouldn’t have. Spending more time with you at the cost of your own life wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t logical. If the hunger got too persistent he could go feral, accidentally killing you in the process. It wasn’t logical. He knew it wasn’t logical to stay with you longer if he was hungry. So why did he do it? How could he let this happen? The cold realization that he really did lose control hits him, the feeling in his limbs quickly leaving. Static. That’s all he could feel. Numb static. You’re everywhere. He wasn’t careful enough. He lost out to his feelings for the first time in hundreds of years. And you paid the price. It was his fault. It’s his fault. It’s his fault. HE DID THIS TO YOU.

He can’t function. The control he’s been holding over himself for a good thousand years breaks. He regresses back into what he was before he gained control. He no longer wants to have control if it leads to him falling in love with someone only to kill them later when he loses it again.

LJ:

He can’t even remember how this happened. The trauma blocking the horrible memories works fast. All he knows is that you’re leaking blood all over a table he doesn’t remember being here yesterday. All he knows is that you’re dead and he did this. He did this. No. No he didn’t. He didn’t. He wouldn’t. He would never hurt you. Who did this? He didn’t. Events take a morbid turn when his abandonment issues take a turn for the worse.

He won’t let the body go. Your body. He won’t let you leave him. So he holds you forever, just like he promised you he would when you first met all those years ago. He holds you through the decomposition process, he holds you until you’re only scattered bones. He holds you until your bones are dust and you’ve been gone longer than he can remember. He says to not worry. He likes holding you. He’ll hold you like this forever. Don’t worry. He’s sure you were so scared. Don’t worry. He’s got you. Don’t worry.

Masky:

He ran out of pills at the worst possible time. The paranoia hit him all at once, making him tape the windows and glue them shut, block the door, place a camera in all the doorways. He keeps seeing things. He keeps seeing the tall man in the darkest corner of his room. He needs more pills. But he can’t leave or the tall man will get him. He’s sure of it.

You just chose the wrong time to come over. You couldn’t have known. He didn’t even realize it was you. It was so dark. The pipe in his hand was slick with sweat. All too suddenly you’re on the floor bleeding out and his chest is heaving, air seemingly desperate to avoid him. The lights get turned on. Huh? Why are you—why? Why are you on the floor? Where is that blood coming from...? Like coffee to a drunk person, the sight of your bleeding out form sobers him—paranoia and hallucinatory visions seeping out of his veins. An almost unparalleled confusion makes him back away from you, making him trip over his steps. He can’t grasp what’s exactly happening at the moment. It takes him a few minutes to realize that his s/o is indeed bleeding out on his floor—and by then it’s far too late. He’s incompetent. His incompetency was the cause of your death. His cowardice. He was so weak it ended your life. That’s how he sees it.

Hoodie:

He can’t even believe he let you get into this situation with him. He was supposed to protect you. He was supposed to be strong enough—stable enough, to protect you. He was supposed to be able to keep his sanity so that he could keep you safe. He took his pills. He stayed away from the woods when he was with you. He stayed in public places with you, and never met at night. He always had a tape recording—so how did it go so wrong? He tried so hard. He tried so fucking hard to keep you safe. So fucking hard.

He thought it was okay to take a short walk with you. You weren’t even close to the woods, it was still a semi-public place. No one was out, and while that made him uneasy, he didn’t question it. He should have. He should have grabbed your hand and taken you to fucking McDonalds or some shit. Maybe a nice stroll through Walmart. Just not here. Not alone and outside. He put you in this situation. It was his fault. He didn’t mean it. He’s never been angrier in his whole existence. He doesn’t worry, he doesn’t fear. Hoodie isn’t scared of anything. But looking down at a corpse that once belonged to you, he finds that he does indeed fear one thing. The end of your life.

Toby:

As far as he’s concerned you never died. What? What do you mean you’re holding a funeral? For who? What? What do you mean? My significant other is sitting right beside me? Is this a joke? It’s not very funny. Can you please stop calling me delusional? Hallucinating? What the fuck are you on? Do you want me set you on fire?

No. You never died. In fact, he’s looking at your smiling face right now. You’re like the sun. So bright it hurts, but so pretty. You’re telling him about your day, although he finds it odd that you’re talking about work again even though you’ve been sitting in this field with him all day. You’re a bit inconsistent and confused these days, but that’s okay. We’ll get through it together. Just like we always have. You promised, remember? Together forever, even through death. <3

645 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

semicolon, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: He knew you. You knew him. Or rather, you both had an idea of the other, only to find that perhaps you connected on a much more carnal, animalistic level. It only took a hotel bar, New Year’s Eve, and the words, “Nice tattoo.”

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alludes to attempted suicide; intense smut (fem reader, BDSM themes, semi-public exposure, restraints, nipple play, tit slapping, m-receiving oral, pussy spanking, doggy); non-idol!AU; rich heir, dom!Yoongi x tattooed, sub!reader; shifts back and forth between Yoongi’s POV and your POV

–

He was sure it was you.

You had tattoos now. A geometric lotus in your right inner forearm and a filled-in circle with a four-sided starburst around it on your inner left forearm. He observed you turning your head and there was a semicolon tattoo under your left ear. You moved your hair to cover it and nursed your rum and coke, alone. The tight black dress you were wearing was sinful at best. Closer to positively illegal with the way it clung to your breasts and squeezed them together. No one was approaching your table in this hotel bar. It was impossible to approach you when you looked that good.

You tapped at your phone, frowning.

He picked up his glass of whiskey and glided to you.

“Nice tattoo.”

You froze. Your eyes followed his finger, to your left forearm.

“It’s the symbol of the Sith Order,” you replied coolly.

“Star Wars?”

You lifted your head, raising an eyebrow. Beautiful makeup. Smokey eyes, red lips, your beauty marks visible. You hadn’t hidden them with foundation. He appreciated that.

“Yes.”

He set his glass on your table and slid into a chair. “Aren’t the Sith evil?”

You didn’t respond to that. Merely smiled at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Do I know you?” you asked, tapping your nails on your glass. Matte black. Interesting.

To be honest, he wasn’t sure. You had attended to the same university. He could guess why you had the semicolon tattoo, because he had been in the hallway, witnessing the event when the ambulance took you to the hospital. He had been sleeping with a girl on your dorm floor.

Admittedly, not one of his proudest moments.

He cocked his chin to your right forearm. “And the lotus tattoo?”

You shrugged. “Just a recommendation from my tattoo artist.”

He took a slow, even sip of his whiskey. “Any more?”

You rested your chin on your fingers, placing your elbow on the table.

“You’d have to take me home to find out.”

Somehow, he did not think you were referring to your under-ear tattoo. He raised an eyebrow. “A woman like you, unclaimed? I can’t imagine why.”

You chuckled, lowering your hand to sip your rum and coke. “Perhaps it’s just personal preference.” You frowned, wincing, as if you remembered something unpleasant. “And perhaps it’s society who doesn’t like women who have their tattoos exposed.”

He thought about his fair skin. The many times he had thought about getting inked, but chickening out because he couldn’t think of committing to one specific image or words for that long. Perhaps he was fickle in that sense.

“Min Yoongi.”

He didn’t extend his hand, just stated his name. You paused, holding your glass over your cleavage, blocking it from his view. A moment of silence, a beat passing between your eyes. And then you gave him your name. Yes, it was you. The name had seen in the school newspaper the next day. The name that left the school, disappearing after the incident. He often wondered if you were okay. You seemed okay, looking at him with discerning eyes.

“You are the son of the owner of this hotel.”

Yoongi paused. He placed his glass on the table.

“Something like that.”

You raised a brow and placed your drink on your table. Expression pensive for a moment before you spoke again, tone light and playful.

“Well, perhaps you’ll be interested to know I just had a very unsatisfying one-night stand on the fifteenth floor, so I’ve come to drink the memory away.”

His lips curled into an entertained smile. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sighed and licked your teeth sharply. “On New Year’s Eve, too, no less.” You tapped your cheek with your index finger. “I suppose that means this year is off to a bad start.”

He looked at his Rolex watch. And then at you and your cleavage, breasts violently pushed together by your tight black dress. His eyes flickered back to yours. You were watching him carefully, aware of his traveling gaze. He smirked.

“There’s still time to remedy that.”

There was something about those eyes that haunted you.

You weren’t sure why, because you were quite sure you had never meant this man before. But maybe in a haze, in a dream? You tilted your head. Black hair, half-pushed back to reveal his forehead, dark eyes, pale skin. The kind of handsome that reminded you of midnights and moonlight, with a raspy voice to match. Expensive black suit with ironed lapels, black silk handkerchief in his breast pocket, patterned with the logo of a high-end fashion designer. Crisp white dress shirt, with a platinum tie clip on his slim black tie.

Well-dressed. Sophisticated. Dangerous.

You did not know Min Yoongi, but it felt like you knew him.

The entire time he was talking, you were watching his movements. For some reason, the heir to this hotel chain was speaking to you. You weren’t that special. That’s how you wanted it. The more anonymous you were, the less people questioned your actions. There’s no way Min Yoongi would know you. And why wasn’t he in the hotel club instead of this quieter, more low-profile hotel bar? Most people wanted to party on New Year’s Eve. The hotel was hosting a huge one at the moment.

You?

You just wanted a good fuck, honestly.

So when he offered, it surprised you. A lot of people would tell you that it was dangerous to have sex with a stranger. A rich man, no less.

But you were also the one with the Sith Order symbol tattooed to your arm.

Your lips curved to match his smirk.

“You got a room?”

He licked his lips.

“They’re all my rooms.”

It started the instant the two of you stepped into the elevator. Your long black fur coat was around your arms, shoulders exposed. No purse, because you had sewed pockets into the coat for your belongings. Less to lose this way. Yoongi had taken you to the back of the hotel, through dark hallways and shadows.

“Service elevator. Less people.”

You cocked your head as he pressed the up button, speaking again.

“Less paparazzi.”

You shrugged. “Someone has probably already caught you and posted it on Twitter.”

The elevator pinged and the doors slid open. You stepped inside and he shoved you into the wall, pressing his expensive suit into your body as the doors slid closed. Eyes on yours, hot breath in your face.

“No cameras,” he growled softly.

The numbers were climbing up, up.

Your tongue slid out as you tilted your head. You pressed it against his lower lip. His eyes were so dark they looked black in this lighting. So close to him that you were breathing in his exhale mixed with his pine-scented cologne.

“What are you waiting for?” you whispered. “Give me a taste of your power.”

Should you have provoked Min Yoongi? Maybe not, because his kiss sucked your breath away, his large hands coming up and holding you in place as he teased your lips, nipping at the thin skin, making you gasp into his mouth. He had you pressed into the metal wall of the elevator, one of his legs slipping between yours, thigh pressed into the hem of your short dress. Lips to lips, working you, teasing you with his tongue, not giving it to you.

He backed up a little, breathing down on you and your panting mouth.

“You bought this dress for someone else to take off, hm?” he purred, lips dark pink from kissing you.

“I brought it for the sole purpose of being taken off.” Your chest was heaving, ribcage constricted by the boning of your dress. “It’s not attached to a particular person.”

His hands slid down your head, trailing on your bare shoulders. Sliding into the fur, staring at your face the entire time. Drumming against the slinky fabric of your tight dress as if you were the grand piano and he was the pianist.

“It could be.”

Yoongi tilted his head, lips brushing against yours.

“It could be for me.”

One by one, his fingertips hooked under the hem of your dress, nails pressed against your bare thighs. His hands were cold, sending tingling shivers all over your nerves. Eyes half-lidded, smokey orbs locked with yours. Your lips curved into a succubus’s smile.

“It’s yours now.”

He chuckled, yanking the hem up and over your ass. Chilled air rushed to your naked thighs, your black lace, French-cut panties out in the open. He looked down at your quivering legs and then his eyes immediately fixated onto it. Another tattoo. You watched as Yoongi took it in, able to see it because the boldly printed script was on the space were your right leg and crotch connected, that dip of flesh right above your pussy. His eyes flickered back to you.

He raised his eyebrows.

“’Good luck’, huh?”

You grinned.

“Good luck.”

The elevator dinged.

A housekeeping worker with their cart craned above the supplies to look at you two and then immediately looked away, closing their eyes. Unmoving like a statue. Didn’t try to roll the cart into the elevator, didn’t say anything. They knew exactly who Yoongi was and it seemed like they knew exactly why you were there.

“Come.”

He didn’t take your hand. He simply removed his heat from you and glided through the doors like an elegant ghost. You followed, heels clicking on the floor before touching the carpet. Like your dress, your slim heels were the slightest bit uncomfortable. It kept you at attention and highly aware of your surroundings, even though you had a few drinks.

Your eyes traveled over the lavish wallpaper, the plush red carpet. Over-the-top intricate and extravagant that bordered on gaudy. This was the top floor. The penthouse. You didn’t have to go far. The entire wing was the room.

You wondered why he took you here just for a simple fuck.

Yoongi unlocked the door.

“There’s only one stipulation.”

“Tell me.”

You held up the condoms from your pocket.

Yoongi smiled.

He was going to tie you up.

You watched as he pressed a button and the metal bar descended from the ceiling, complete with leather straps. You raised your eyebrows. Yoongi watched your expression carefully. The bedroom was dark, only lit by moody red LED lights from behind the bed and low sconces. The color reflected off his pale skin, casting half of his face in shadow.

The button had been behind a locked panel. He was probably the sole owner of that key.

“You are welcome to leave at any time.”

He said the words without emotion. You removed your fur coat, placing it on the oversized black velvet armchair. Everything in the room was in various shades of black and navy, in plush fabrics or luxurious leather.

“You spend a lot on your hobbies,” you commented.

Yoongi smirked.

“Sex is a performance.”

Your eyes connected. He removed his blazer. Like all of his movements, it was a swift and practiced manner, with two fingers hooked around the collar as he walked towards you. He tossed it on top of your coat. Now Yoongi was right next to you, your black dress still bunched around your waist. He did not have a particularly oppressive presence, but it was more like the company of the ocean. Expansive with unreachable depth, strikingly beautiful, and would have absolutely no qualms in drowning you.

Yoongi made sure your eyes were on him.

His long fingers deftly removed his cufflinks, sliding them into his pants pocket before slowly rolling up his sleeves. He was wearing multiple silver bracelets on each wrist, no rings. He folded the crisp white fabric up to his elbows, revealing his lean forearms. He had nice hands. Pampered ones.

“Scared?” he asked casually.

You reached up to the hook-and-eyes at the front of your dress. His eyes followed your movement. One. Two. Your words complimenting the removal of each one. Your breasts slowly relaxed from their prison, held in place by your free hand holding the top of your dress so you could travel downwards.

“Fear is natural,” you whispered quietly. “It is merely a tool in the realm of the strong.”

Yoongi’s lips curved into a slow smile. “Do you intend to speak like that the entire time?”

You chuckled as the last one was undone. “No. I’m only informing you I’m a bit of a masochist.”

And then you released your hand holding up the dress, causing it to unfurl and slide down, stopping at your hips and flaring out like a flower.

Yoongi wondered if you did this all the time.

He wondered if this was a product of your life experiences or your instinctual nature. He watched as you slid the dress down your thighs, letting it fall to the floor. You stepped out of it, only in your heels and panties. His teeth sunk into his lower lip.

Yoongi had taken a lot of people to this room. All strangers. Never one he knew from the past, no matter how insignificant. That made you the exception, even if you didn’t remember. His memory was still so vivid to this day.

He let his eyes roam over your body. As he predicted, you had great tits. The dress accentuated them after all. There was another tattoo. Script on the left side of your ribcage. You noticed him looking and turned slightly so he could read it. He had to think. It was in English, like your crotch tattoo, although that one was easier to translate.

“’The world is quiet here’?” he echoed.

the world was written so it was only visible from the front, is visible from the side, and quiet here visible from the back. Printed a typewriter’s font, no punctuation, the placement deliberate and thought-out.

You smiled. “Book quote.”

Yoongi liked it when you smiled. He reminded him of his own, a little hesitant but self-aware of your own quiet confidence. He lifted his hand and placed it behind your head, guiding you to him.

“You are very interesting,” he murmured into your mouth before he kissed you again. Tasting like rum and coke mixed with oceanic blackberry. He had smelled that scent before, although not on skin. He recalled the counter of cologne, the glass bottles with the unisex design. High-end.

On your skin, it smelled like sex itself.

He slid his tongue in between your soft lips, running it over your teeth. Drinking in your gasps, taking it all. He liked it when you breathed into his mouth too. You let it out like smoke, drifting into him. Your hands came up to hold onto his upper arms, steadying yourself. He liked the feeling of your hands as well, the way each finger curled around to grip him tightly. His thrust his tongue in and out, slowly, each moan chaining to the last. His hands in your hair, tangling it up, making a mess.

Yoongi opened his eyes just a crack. They landed on the tattoo in your left forearm, the filled-in circle with the four-sided starburst.

What had made you get a symbol like that tattooed to you?

He pulled you along, still kissing you, towards the metal bar. Turned you around, kissing down your jaw to the back of your neck. His hands slid down your hair, tracing your spine. Fuck. Such a beautiful back, with a lovely curve, so perfect to bend over. He dug his nails into it and you whined under him.

Yoongi didn’t bother asking you if you wanted it. You had a mouth; you could use it.

And you were grinding your ass into his crotch so, clearly, he didn’t have to ask.

He folded your arms behind you, forearm above forearm, tying you to the metal bar with the leather straps. One on each of your wrists, one tucked in the inside your elbows, binding them to each other and then all to the metal. He did not want to cover your tattoos but he had to. The position had you bent over, ass sticking out, tits hanging down, back slightly arched.

“Do I need to secure your waist or can you hold it?”

You turned your head back and raised an eyebrow. The curve of your profile, so perfect against the red light.

“What you need to do is fuck me already.”

He grinned.

Yoongi pulled up a chair and sat down right in the front of you.

You gave him a slightly annoyed expression. He smirked at you, placing his fingers on your chin, lifting it slightly.

“I thought you wanted a satisfying fuck?” he drawled.

“And yet nothing is happening.”

“Foreplay is just as important as pounding your pussy.”

You suddenly felt his other hand ghost under your nipple, palm barely grazing it. You tried to drop your body into it but were stopped by your restraints. Yoongi cocked an eyebrow amusedly. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“What are you waiting for?”

His thumb slid up your chin. He pressed it into your lips, forcing it open, rubbing your tongue with the pad of his finger. You made a disgruntled noise, saliva collecting where he touched you. You tried to close your lips but he held your jaw down, grip strong and immovable. Spit was trickling down your chin, covering his fingers and dripping onto the floor.

“Waiting for you to give in to me,” Yoongi murmured huskily.

Your heartrate accelerated disconcertingly in your chest. His dark eyes on yours, consuming you, keeping you in this slightly uncomfortable position. And you wanted it. You could feel it, the heat inside you, stroked from embers to full-blown fire, because somehow Min Yoongi could see right through you and knew you wanted what he was composing.

This midnight was his.

He seemed to know that you came to this conclusion. Maybe your pupils were dilated. Maybe it was your shallowed breathing. Maybe it was your trembling body, shaking at his touch. He removed his wet finger and slid it down your collarbones, smearing your own spit on you, before cupping your breast, squeezing it. You sucked in a breath, moaning his name softly as his other hand matched the first, kneading your breasts, rubbing your nipples with his palms.

“Y-Yoongi…”

You gasped as you felt his wrists slide up and the chains of his bracelets scrape your sensitive nipples, blooming pinpricks of pain over your chest. His palms came back, soothing you, his dark eyes intensely focused on your face, not looking away. His fingers pressed into your skin and he closed them in on your nipples, pinching them hard enough so that you could feel it, but not so hard that it was unbearable. He held you there like that. Seconds ticked past. Long, grueling seconds that felt like hours.

Yoongi was very calm about it as you slowly unraveled in his hands.

You body began to move involuntarily, raising your chest so his fingers pulled on your nipples a little. He still did not move his hands. You couldn’t go far with the metal bar digging into your back. He watched you try different things to get more stimulation, fingers motionless. If you moved too much, you were afraid he was going to let go and not give you more. You craved more. Needed it.

“Yoongi, please… Harder…”

His dark eyes were hypnotizing you.

The position of his fingers changed. He clamped your nipples between the joints of his index and middle fingers. You yelped, back banging against the metal. He pressed his thumbs against the hardened nubs, rubbing them harshly. Expression unchanging, forever on you.

“I thought you wanted it harder.”

His voice was deep, calm, with a hint of raspy delight. The sensation was a stark contrast to what he was doing before, shooting sparks of pleasure through your body. You shuddered, bucking into it, knees collapsing a bit as he stimulated your nipples.

“Hold.”

A single command and your knees locked to obey, entire body shaking. Yoongi pulled your nipples towards him, pushing your breasts together as he did so. Your back had to curve abruptly against the cold metal bar at his action. He lowered his head, trailing kisses along your collarbone. You whined, his touch hard and lips soft, eyelids fluttering as your nipples slipped out from his fingers. His large hands quickly twisted to cup your tits, keeping them up and pushed together as he kissed down the curve, nipping sharply at your skin. Leaving small red marks all over, sucking at some points to bruise you.

He didn’t need to speak. His lips told you everything, travelling all over your breasts hungrily, your swollen and abused nipples waiting, patterning your skin before his tongue snaked out.

“F-fuck, Yoongi…”

The pink tip pressed against the inflamed nub, pushing it around delicately. Strands of black hair framed his sculpted brows and those dark eyes were on you again. He closed his lips around it. Your eyelids slid closed, feeling the softness of his mouth and his tongue swiping all over, swift circles.

Then he sucked, hard.

Your eyes flew open, jutting your chest into his face. Yoongi chuckled in his throat and continued to suck, pulsating around your nipple, scraping his teeth against it. One of his hands came up and matched the rhythm of his mouth, tweaking and assaulting your other nipple forcefully. Your core throbbed with need, soaking your panties so much that they stuck to your folds. The scent of your arousal was getting stronger and stronger, a heavy sweetness.

He released your nipples abruptly and you gasped, feeling him lick a fat stripe possessively over your tits. Saliva dripping down, coating them all over. He removed his hand. You panted, trying to catch your breath.

“What’s my name?” he whispered quietly.

You lifted your trembling head, hair covering half your face. Your knees felt like jelly.

“Y-Yoongi.”

He slapped your tits.

You yelped, his open palm creating hot friction on your abused nipples. It wasn’t a hard hit, but an expansive one that covered a lot of surface area. It was obvious he knew what he was doing. Pain trickled throughout your body, pussy throbbing with need.

“Again.”

“Yoongi.”

He slapped you again, from the other side. You shuddered, sucking in your stomach at the sudden pain that seemed to swallow you up, but somehow it didn’t really hurt, instantly morphing into tinges of arousal. It was probably the way he was looking at you. His appearance was bored, but his eyes were trained onto your body, ink-black pupils shimmering with power in his dark brown irises.

“Again.”

Your eyes dropped down. He spread his legs. It was like he knew what you wanted. His erection strained against his tailored black slacks. It was impossible to hide with how closely fitted they were to his body. Your eyes went back up to his face. His expression was still unbothered.

“Yoongi,” you breathed, the clearest you’ve sounded yet.

Smack! You whined at the force, back against the cold metal. Smack! A half-moan, a half-sob as you felt his bracelets scrape against your skin. Smack! Your breasts banged together, softness against stinging softness, and it just felt so good as the pain crawled through your nervous system, devastating you. Your head was arched back, staring at the ceiling, mouth open and panting.

Yoongi reached up and pushed your head back down. He used his other hand to trace your lips, smeared with lipstick and saliva.

“I’m going to fuck this hole now.”

There was a short silence. He was waiting for you to say no.

You didn’t say anything.

Yoongi stood up and unbuttoned his pants right in front of your face. Your eyes followed his fingers as he unzipped them. The flaps opened and his cock fought against the smooth fabric of his boxer briefs, swelling as it was released from the confines of his pants. He pressed it into your nose and you inhaled his scent, oppressive and erotic, making you moan hotly against it.

You wanted it in you so bad that your juices were leaking down your thighs.

You felt his palm caress your head, smoothing your hair. He rocked his hips into your face, humping your open mouth. You pressed your tongue against his clothed cock, whimpering at how close it was and yet so far. His words drifted down to you in a low growl, teasing and domineering.

“Good luck.”

He removed his hardness from your face. Your eyes flickered up to him, a smirk on your lips. Yoongi matched your devious expression, pushing down his underwear. His cock sprung up into your vision, overtaking it. Oh, fuck. The head already dark red, leaking pre-cum. Veins standing out along the length, waiting to be stroked by your tongue. It was the hottest image you had ever seen, Yoongi’s smug face above you, his stiff cock so close to your lips that you could feel the heat. And fuck, he smelled so good, as if his pine cologne, his skin, and his arousal made an unholy pheromone combination that made you open your mouth, exhaling hotly over the glistening head.

Yoongi shoved it into your lips with one swift stroke.

You reeled, expanding your throat as he buried himself into it, sucking in a tight breath. It was a skillful, deliberate movement, one that didn’t jar your gag reflex immediately. You had plenty of practice from former encounters to not gag at first instinct, but Yoongi also seemed practiced, as if he had shoved his dick down many throats before.

His large hand fitted around the back of your head. Not moving.

His taste overwhelmed your mouth. Your tongue slid around expertly, running down the length, moaning around him. His eyes were closed but you could see his pink lips curve upward. You closed your own eyes, squeezing him in your throat as your tongue rubbed along the veins, pressing him into the roof of your mouth.

“You do not disappoint,” Yoongi sighed in satisfaction.

He pulled out a little and your tongue instantly went to the head, licking slow circles all over, teasing the opening with your tongue, spreading it out before sliding under to stimulate the thin skin between the head and length. Yoongi moaned above you, your name finally falling from his lips. You did not realize it would have such an effect on you until he said it. It made your thighs clench and pussy throb, agonizingly forced to wait until he was done with your mouth.

He began to thrust into your face, slow but forceful, tipping your head back a little so the head stroked against the roof of your mouth before hitting the back of your throat. You took it, helpless, bent over, knees aching as he fucked your mouth, almost lazily. His hand had a firm grip on your head, pushing himself in over and over.

“Keep it tight for me,” he murmured. “You’re doing so good.”

You closed your lips around him, meeting the base of his cock, your cries muffled and vibrating along his hard length, adding stimulation. You looked up, seeing his tensed jaw, pleasure painting his features, eyes closed. Yoongi wasn’t trying to get off fast; he was trying to build it to a crescendo, and your mouth was his tool to do it. In, out, in, out, each time a little rougher, a little more force. Rubbing your throat raw, jaw aching, but you were so focused on the soft pants coming from his lips that you didn’t notice.

“Your mouth is so perfect,” Yoongi gritted out, rocking his hips a little faster. “So soft and tight.”

His eyes opened halfway and he noticed you staring at him as he fucked your mouth. He inhaled sharply at the sight.

“So fucking sexy,” he mumbled. “You want to swallow me?”

You hummed needily in response, gazing imploringly at him. He smirked.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He rolled his hips, faster, harder. You noticed the muscles in his neck tense, his hand gripping you tighter as he chased his release, fingers digging into your scalp, his cock trembling in your wetness as you sucked your cheeks in. Yoongi clenched his jaw, eyes closing again. His hips smacked into your face repeatedly, your name a low hiss as he thrust particularly roughly into your throat, the head being choked by your wet vise.

“Fuck...”

Sudden, jerking strings of cum shot down your throat, painting it white, pumping straight into your mouth. You swallowed hard, barely able to take a breath before his cock violently shuddered, filling you up with more of his salty, thick taste. He held your head as you gulped around him, groaning as he felt your throat close in on the sensitive head continually.

“That’s it…”

His fingers curled into your hair, lifting it away from your neck and collecting it behind you so he could look down at you drinking his orgasm.

“What a pretty picture and all for me.”

His eyes honed in on the semicolon tattoo under your left ear.

It flexed and moved as you swallowed, flickering in and out of vision as the small dangling black gems on your ear hid it. His eyes slid back to your fucked-out face, struggling for breath but being denied by his hold on you.

You might have a personal preference when it came to being single, but Yoongi was a rapacious man, and he wanted to own your mouth. He doubted he could buy it with money, but perhaps he could make you addicted to him. He pulled out of your lips and you whined deliciously.

Inwardly, he grinned like a devil.

Yoongi leaned down and lifted your head, kissing your swollen lips. You kissed him back, starved and hungry for his softness, his gentle touches that were matched by his roughness. Did you always look this good? He wanted you beside him so he could study you, so he could push you to your knees whenever he wanted, so you could resist him and so he could teach you a lesson.

But you deserved the fuck you had asked for. He could smell how turned on you were and he had promised after all. His tongue slid into your mouth and he tasted himself, a familiar taste that somehow tasted better when it was mixed with your saliva.

Yoongi did not think he was going to invite any more strangers into this room after this.

He broke the kiss. Your eyes on him, burning him to the core. He removed his shoes and socks, standing up. Stepped out of his pants, still wearing his shirt and tie. He kept them on as a sign of his power over you. You looked so perfectly submissive, just like this. He had to move out of your line of vision.

There was no way you knew what he was thinking, but he still didn’t trust himself. He did not want to get carried away. He had a job to do.

And that was to fuck you.

He moved around to your quivering legs, seeing your soaked panties. Not commenting, but his cock twitched seeing it, knowing it was him that made you this way. His fingers closed in on the top of them, yanking up. You jerked you head back, moaning hotly at the action. The black lace dug into your skin, seeping into your slick folds. He kept his voice measured despite his desperate need to shove himself into you right now.

“Count to four.”

He dug your panties into you as he spoke and made you whine as he pulled from side to side. The delicate fabric was ripping a little.

“One.”

He spanked your pussy with his large palm. The sound was loud and wet, traveling throughout the entire wing, along with your scream of pleasure. Yoongi was getting hard already listening to you. Even in the low light, he could tell your pussy lips were becoming puffy, reddening. His hand was smeared with your juices and he resisted the urge to lick it.

“Keep going,” he nudged gently.

He heard you panting. “Two.”

Smack! The sound, the sound, it turned him on so much as the lustful moan was torn out of you, your raw throat turning it almost feral. He twisted your panties in your slit, watching the fabric tear slowly against your inflamed skin, drinking in your squeals and whines as he tortured you.

“T-three.”

Slap! His fingers were coated in slickness, watching the wetness splatter between your legs as he hit you. Your ass was backing up into your panties, trying to get more, stopped by the metal bar. If you wanted him to stop, you wouldn’t have uttered the final number, gasping it out hurriedly.

“Four.”

Smack! Yoongi slapped the hardest yet and your knees buckled, almost sobbing. He shoved your kneecaps with his, locking them back in place. Your legs were shuddering hard, barely holding up, but your mouth was telling him a different story, choked gasps of pleasure.

“Fuck, Yoongi, yes…”

He pulled your panties down. They were practically ruined by his grip. That was too bad; they were quite beautiful. He intended on buying you new ones. Perhaps he could come with you to select them.

He paused for a moment to grab a condom, holding it in his hand before returning to you.

“Yoongi, p-please fuck me…”

You craned your head to look at him, the perfect profile. He raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck me with your pretty cock, p-please…”

He stared down at your gorgeous back, the peeks of your tattoos in his restraints, your ass stuck up in the air, pussy lips swollen and leaking from his spanking. He couldn’t see it right now, but he knew the ‘GOOD LUCK’ tattoo was there, right next to your pussy. Yoongi wondered who the artist was.

Perhaps they had been lucky like him.

He felt a surge of annoyance.

Yoongi stepped up to your ass, lifting his cock and pressing the length against your wetness. You started, almost moving away.

“It’s not in you.” He kept his voice even. “You will know if it was in you.”

He exhaled quietly as he rubbed his length and his balls against your wet slit, keeping the head away from you. You were warm, soft, and so, so slick. He was semi-hard, but he could feel himself getting harder as he pressed your ass around his cock, fucking the crevice between your cheeks. He knew it would be better inside you, but for some reason he needed to punish you a little. Needed to let you know that he was irate that there were others before him, that somehow fate cheated him by not having your paths cross sooner.

There was nothing you could do about that, but Yoongi didn’t care.

You were moaning under him, hips pushing back to meet his thrusts, your pussy smacking his balls, coating them with your lubrication. He closed his eyes, letting himself enjoy it. Fuck, you had a nice ass, malleable and lush in his hands. He wanted to own this ass too. You mouth, your tits, your ass.

He knew he would want your pussy too once he was in it.

“Yoongi, please…”

He pressed his fingers into your skin, sliding them inward. Held his cock carefully so it wouldn’t leak on you as he retreated.

“Ah, you’re right,” he purred. “You’ve earned it.”

He opened the condom, sliding it on. His cock jerked in his hands, already desperate for what was to come. He was the kind of man who lived under so much discipline that he knew nothing else. Although life could not be controlled, he could control himself and his emotions.

Yoongi pressed the head against your entrance. Sucked in a breath.

Sank in slowly.

Oh.

God.

Yoongi was not religious, but he swore he saw glimpses of heaven the second his cock was fully enveloped by your pussy. It was tight, it was soft, and each ridge clenched around him, roughly stimulating the head after he had mildly edged himself with your ass moments earlier. You pulsed around him, constricting him inside you as the base of his crotch touched your abused pussy lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

He needed to own this pussy.

Yoongi pulled back and shoved himself back in, gasping at the tightness. It was not because you weren’t turned on. It was because you were clenching around him, pressing your walls inward to choke his cock and, if possible, his cock became harder knowing this, harder as he heard you cry out in satisfaction.

“Yes, Yoongi, yes…”

He began to fuck you, rolling his hips into yours, trying to keep it slow and steady to drive you crazy, but to be honest, he was done for, because Yoongi had never experienced such power, never had a body fuck him back with such force, never heard such delicious, desperate mewls of need as he thrusted into you, slamming your hips together with loud squelches. It was probably a lot, his cock hitting you deep and your pussy already sensitive from his spanking, and yet you told him to hold you tighter, fuck you harder.

“Use me, Yoongi,” you gasped. “You feel so good, fuck, Yoongi, your cock is so fucking good…”

How did you know all the words that made him weak? How did you know exactly how to sound to make him want you more? And you took it all despite your shivering legs, despite your tits violently bouncing with every thrust, despite him pressing down on your lower back to hit you deeper. He watched you throw your head back, a long sinful wail slipping from your lips, hair flaring out like fire and you came all over his cock, pussy spasming and clenching around him.

Yoongi’s eyes widened, hips ramming into you. The head smacked against your tightest spot and he saw stars, the pleasure hitting its peak and plummeting into him, taking his breath away. He shot aggressively into the condom, pumped out by your pussy clamping down around his length, sucking it all out. His eyes rolled back into his head with how good it felt. This had never happened to him before. The moans of his name rang in his ears, encompassing him as his cock twitched inside you, the perfect combination of sound and sensation.

If Yoongi ever heard your voice again, it would be synesthetic experience for him, because he would remember this sound and this feeling for the rest of his life.

Outside, the clock stuck midnight, and fireworks overtook the sky in thundering booms.

“Was that a satisfying fuck?”

“Very.”

Yoongi reached over and tucked a spare strand of hair behind your left ear. You sat in his lap, in the armchair with the windows wide open, revealing a perfect view of all the fireworks overtaking the moonlight. It was a bit wasteful for your taste. Not that good for the environment. Yoongi informed you that he would look into more sustainable alternatives.

He pressed his lips into your neck.

“The next time you want to stay at one of my hotels, I will make myself available.”

You chuckled. “Can you afford a pause in your schedule?”

You could feel him sucking a red mark into your skin.

“What else can I do when a member of the Sith Order visits?”

You laughed and he smirked against your newly-made hickey.

same au as exclamation mark !

punctuation au dom!myg and jjk | period . | comma , | question mark ? | apostrophe ‘

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi smut #bts smut #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #min yoongi smut

755 notes · View notes