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#thank you for staying. or checking in; maybe? there is always a soft spot in my heart for you + ily i hope you are doing well

jobean12-blog · 25 days

Text

Slow Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 3,002

Summary: Joel picks you up (sorta rescues you) and your attraction to him is instant even with the state of the world, but does he feel the same?

Author's Note: Honestly, my friend @lizette50 shared the gif below with me and just his hands on that steering wheel sparked 3k words of nonsense. I'm not only obsessed with his neck but also his hands (and the rest of him!) Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy 💕

Warnings: there's some tension- both sexual and other, softness, grumpy Joel, flirting

The gif below is from pinterest HERE

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The sound of tires on the road draws your attention from your hiding spot but when they skid to a stop you stay in your unseen position and sneak a look. You can never be too careful and staying hidden and quiet has been an essential part of your survival so far.

But all your rational thoughts drain and every muscle in your body coils tightly as you lay eyes on the man that steps out of the old truck.

Before anything else registers, you notice the way he moves. His long, thick legs carry him surely toward the nearest broken-down car and when he bends over to check the gas tank you get a glimpse of his ass in the tight jeans.

With a huff of frustration he straightens and walks toward another car, this one closer to you, and you can see the hard set of his jaw, his eyes much the same as they scan his surroundings.

You can’t stop your gaze from tracking down over his broad shoulders and wide chest.

Without remembering to keep quiet you shift to get a better look and accidentally knock into a rusty metal part, sending it careening down to the pavement with a loud clang.

His gun is out and cocked before you even register your error and with shaky hands you stand up and reveal yourself.

He locks eyes with you across the small space of separation and you have the satisfaction of watching his shoulders relax and his eyes slowly peruse you from head to toe. Perhaps it was merely to check if you were armed…or infected…or maybe he just wanted to look.

Either way, it sets your nerve ends tingling and when his gaze lingers, warmth races across your skin.

“I’m not a threat,” you say, squaring your shoulders but keeping your arms and hands high above your head.

He still doesn’t speak and keeps the gun trained on you, his expression wary.

“I promise. I’m just trying to get to Jackson.”

At the mention of Jackson, his eyes narrow and he steps closer. You don’t budge.

“How do I know you’re not infected?” he asks.

“Well, I’m all alone and have been for days. I’d let you check me out but we just met…usually I have a man at least take me out to dinner first.”

Your joke gets the opposite reaction you hoped for. His jaw clenches and his teeth grind under the pressure.

“I do need a ride though.”

You lower your hands, smoothing them over your hips and brushing the dust from your knees.

“That is, if you don’t mind me bumming one.”

Your hope starts to slip with his extended silence.

He finally drops the gun and pinches the bridge of his nose.

You slowly walk forward and extend your hand to introduce yourself. He stares at it for a moment before taking it in his larger one.

“Joel,” he rumbles.

“You wouldn’t leave a girl stranded, would you Joel?”

“Fine. Get movin’.”

You slide a glance across the console of the rattling old pick-up truck and watch him under the cover of your lashes. He hasn’t looked at you once since loading you into the vehicle, instead keeping his dark eyes glued to the road, jaw still tight with obvious tension.

You were sure you caught him giving you another once over when you bent down to sift through your bag but by the time you felt his stare and peeked his way he was muttering something incoherent and running a rough hand through his hair.

“So…” you start, turning his way slightly. “How long is the ride?”

He shoots you a look that says, “are you serious?”

“Shouldn’t take us more than a day.” He grinds his teeth, something you’ve come to notice he does often, and lifts his eyes to the rearview mirror. “Long as we don’t run inta any trouble.”

“I see…” You cross your legs, hoping to appear relaxed. “Maybe we’ll see something cool on the way.”

His bushy eyebrows shoot up to his hairline but he doesn’t grace you by meeting your eyes when he asks, “ever been to Wyoming?”

You’re surprised silence keeps you quiet for longer than you mean to be and you see his hands flex on the steering wheel.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to ask me any questions.”

He sends you an unamused look. “Ain’t one for much talkin’ these days.”

You nod in understanding but don’t hide your smile. “And no, I haven’t. But I’ve heard it’s beautiful.”

“What do you plan on doin’ when we get there?”

With a shrug you turn to look out the window, tracing your finger down a smear of dirt on the other side of the glass.

“Help out of course…and I was hoping I could do some planting. You know grow food…or something like that...breed animals…farm?”

Your thoughts trail off as you realize how silly and inadequate your plan sounds but you turn when you feel the heavy weight of his stare and realize he’s studying you.

“You know you should keep your eyes on the road,” you say with a half-hearted smile.

He stares for a beat longer before turning his attention back to driving.

“Yeah because there’s so many other cars out here.”

You gasp. “He makes a joke? Pull over, I think I’m feeling dizzy.”

He merely grunts in reply but you’re sure you catch the side of his mouth twitching with a smile.

“What do you plan on growin’? The weather can be pretty harsh in the winters.”

“Do you really want to know?”

He frowns at the windshield.

You let out a yielding sigh and start to rattle off a list.

“I dunno…I was thinking maybe…mangoes, bananas, pineapple! Oh kiwi!”

At his dark look you smile brightly to assure him you’re joking.

“Very funny.”

“About time you noticed.”

His gaze turns from the road back to you, raking down your body and back up to meet your face.

“Oh, I noticed sweetheart.”

The interior of the truck suddenly becomes too hot and you start to crack the window for some fresh cool air.

You try your best to settle into the seat and focus on the rush of the scenery, letting the tension filled silence stretch until he speaks again.

“What are you thinkin’ about over there?”

Unsure of where to take the conversation after that unexpected turn, you fall back on your humor.

“Kiwis..and mangoes and bananas..”

This time you see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a genuine smile and you cheer inwardly.

His hand relaxes on the steering wheel before tightening again, long fingers wrapping easily around the worn leather as he slowly slides along the curve, the action drawing your attention and holding it.

His hands are big, dwarfing the wheel with rough and calloused fingers. Your thoughts quickly drift away from tropical fruits and fill with the fantasy of how it would feel if he touched your bare skin.

You seek the air from the window but find it too warm and gently press the back of your hand to your cheek. Your skin is hot and it does nothing to alleviate the feeling so you let your hand drift to the top buttons of your shirt and undo them, leaving the material agape.

When he shifts in the driver’s seat you try not too look. Try not to notice the way his legs are spread wide and his jeans pull tightly between them.

He turns and catches you staring, holding your gaze before his drops to your lips. The hot look in his eyes, the one that continues to dip and linger on your exposed neckline, is hard to ignore and your breath hitches.

By the time you reach Jackson the air inside the truck is thick with tension and you throw the door open and take a deep inhale.

Tommy runs to greet Joel, his eyes shifting to you suspiciously. They talk in hushed voices, Joel standing with his head cocked, hands on hips and signature clenched jaw.

Tommy finally smiles your way and walks over to greet you. He’s handsome and much friendlier than Joel and you instantly feel welcome.

“I can’t believe you survived the whole ride with him,” Tommy jokes.

A laugh bubbles from your throat.

“I see you inherited all the charm and wit.”

Tommy’s smile widens and he casually throws an arm over your shoulder as he leads you into the town.

“I like her better than you already,” he shoots over his shoulder at Joel, who follows your steps with a scowl.

After you get settled in your new place Joel comes to retrieve you for a bite to eat.

“Hungry?” he asks

“Starving actually.”

His dark eyes study you before he gestures toward the large bar/hall with an arm held out. You walk ahead and feel the press of his hand at your lower back as he reaches to open the door for you.

You lean into his touch and search the space, feeling slightly overwhelmed as several sets of unknown eyes turn to examine you.

Joel’s fingers splay at your back, sending tingles along your spine, then slide over to the curve of your waist. He pulls you into his side and walks you to an empty table.

“Don’t mind them,” he whispers. “They aren’t used to new people.”

You nod and miss his touch instantly as he releases you to pull out your chair. Your meal is eaten in relative silence but you don’t miss how his eyes drift to you at every opportunity.

“You know,” he starts, surprising you once again by speaking first, “if you need help building anythin’ for your plants…your mangoes, I can help.”

You giggle at his joke and lean in closer.

“Do you know a lot about farming?”

He pauses with the spoon half way to his mouth and the corner of his lips lift slightly.

“Enough.”

You let out a playful scoff. “That’s convincing.”

“I can definitely build you plant beds…”

“I’ll take any help I can get,” you say with a smile.

The next week goes by in a blur of meeting new people and adjusting to new routines. You still can’t believe you’ve found a safe place to be. It may not last forever but for now you’re going to be nothing but grateful.

You seek Joel out regularly, stealing as much time with him as you can even if he remains quiet more often than not. He’s more talkative than before and always answers your questions, adding an occasional playful joke here or there, but seems to prefer the comfortable silence between the two of you.

It’s on one particularly warm and sunny morning that Joel scratches at the back of his neck, a feeling of anxiousness crawling over his skin. He tries to tamp down the twitch of alarm but it’s useless, the sense only growing stronger as more time passes.

Where did you say you’d be this morning?

He drops the tool from his hand and heads for the old barn shed, remembering your words about looking for some old planting equipment. He’s almost at the partially closed doors when he hears voices. At first he can’t make out the words since they are hushed but when he hears your clear, “no, move,” he pushes open the doors with a bang.

He enters the barn with his fingers digging into his palms and his breath coming in deep through his nose. Your eyes shoot wide when you see him and Jack, the man who has you cornered, follows your line of vision and steps back immediately.

“You ok sweetheart?” Joel asks through clenched teeth.

You look at Jack and narrow your eyes. “I am now.”

“We were just…” Jack starts.

Joel holds up his hand and steps closer to Jack. “If you ever have trouble understanding the word ‘no,’ again, I’ll be more than happy to explain what it means.”

Jack stiffens at Joel’s dangerous tone and warning words and with a barely perceptible nod he walks out without looking back.

Joel’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight then he moves purposefully toward you with long strides.

“I’m sorry,” Joel says quietly. “Are you ok?”

“You’re sorry?” you repeat. “But…”

“I didn’t warn you. I shouldn’t have let him within ten feet of you.”

“Well you took care of it. I don’t think he’ll ever come near me again.”

“Better not,” he grits out. “Or he’ll have to deal with me.”

A small smile plays upon your lips and you take a step closer, resting your hands on his biceps.

“I should be thanking you.”

You stare up at him and in a move he never expects you lift your hands to his hair and slide them through his soft curls, pulling him down for a kiss.

For a moment you think he’s going to pull back but when your tempting curves mold to his body and you let out a soft moan he smooths one hand up your back and the other around your waist, tucking you into him as he deepens the kiss.

You whisper his name, brushing your lips to his and getting some air before you kiss him again. He walks backward until you hit the wooden wall behind you, his entire body slotted against yours so you can feel every inch of him.

“Fuck,” he groans out, maintaining intense eye contact when he traces your jaw with his thumb then gently sweeps it across your swollen lips.

“Been wantin’ to kiss you since the moment I laid eyes on you sweetheart,” he admits.

“Just kiss me?” you ask, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth.

He dips his head, his nose softly bumping yours as his lips hover above yours.

“No…not just…”

“JOEL?!”

At the sound of Tommy’s loud call Joel grumbles a curse and rests his forehead to yours. He reluctantly steps away but takes your hand in his and lifts it to his mouth, gently kissing your palm and then the curve of your fingertips.

He doesn’t say anything as he backs away and disappears between the doors with a tender release of your hand. You remain rooted in place, unable to do more than press your tingling fingers to your tingling lips.

When the rest of the day passes without any sign of Joel you start to worry you imagined the spark between you and maybe pushed him too far. Dinner time comes and goes and you still don’t see him but before you head to your small house to retire for the night you catch Tommy’s wife, Maria, outside and rush over to ask her if she’s seen Joel.

Her expression is somber before she answers.

“They left this morning,” she says quietly as she delicately rubs her belly.

“Left?”

Maria nods. “Trouble at the border. Tommy wouldn’t get into details but he seemed worried.”

You swallow thickly and thank her, letting her know to get you if she needs anything. Once you’re back inside your place you lean against the door and go over every interaction and every word, although few, between you and Joel.

Why didn’t he tell you and say goodbye? When would he be back? He had to come back…

Two full days pass with no sign of them. You linger at the window every morning and night, hoping to hear the distinct clop of hooves on the dirt.

It isn’t until midnight comes and goes and the clear sky is filled with twinkling bright stars that you’re awakened by the sound of a heavy knock at your door.

You startle from your sleeping spot on the couch and listen again, wondering if it’s your imagination.

Knock, knock.

“Sweetheart. It’s me. Let me in.”

You stand just beyond the threshold, your fingers hovering over the doorknob.

“Open the door for me darlin.’ I have to see you.”

The lock turns and very slowly the door opens.

You’re standing there in his flannel, barefoot and fragile.

“You’re back,” you state, your tone wary.

He waits for any sign of apprehension then brushes past you and spins around, taking you with him and bracing one large hand above your head to push the door closed with a click.

When he leans in closer and crowds you against the hard surface your lips part in awareness and his mouth grazes yours gently.

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you before I left.”

“Joel,” you start, shaking your head. “You don’t owe me any goodbyes…”

“But?” he adds.

“I was so worried…and I missed you.”

His fingers fall to the buttons of his shirt, slipping through the large openings at your waist and coasting over the front of your panties.

“Missed you too sweetheart. Been thinkin’ about how sweet those lips taste for the last two damn days.”

Without wasting another moment he brings his mouth down on yours, a low groan spilling from his throat. His hands cradle your face, his lips trailing along your jaw to your ear.

“Are you gonna let me find out if you’re sweet all over? he whispers.

Instead of answering, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug him down for another searing kiss. He presses you harder against the door and circles his hips so you can feel him hard along your stomach.

“You gonna give me a nice little taste darlin’?”

Your fingernails lightly drag down his chest, watching as his eyes darken and the muscles in his throat work over his hard swallow.

When your hands fall to the first closed button of his shirt, the one you’re still wearing, he groans and let’s his gaze fall to track the movement. You slowly unbutton it and drag a finger down, parting the fabric until you reach the next button and do the same, inch by inch exposing your bare skin.

“Fuck sweetheart, you’re drivin’ me outta my goddamn mind.”

@hiddles-rose @lorilane33 @kmc1989

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us

496 notes · View notes

mydearzero · 8 months

Note

Hello!! I was wondering if maybe you could do something with sub!Spencer and dacryphilia?

I also just wanted to say that I really enjoy reading all of your work and I'm so impressed with what you write! You have become one of my favorite writers on this platform!

now this, this is too good to not write. thanks for reading and the request! it's an honorary title to be called one of your favourites so I thank you! ♡

Pretty When You Cry | sub!Spencer Reid x Reader

MASTERLIST

18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Summary: You hear Spencer crying after he'd overheard you joke about him with Derek. You better check in on him, right? Except he's definitely not crying. You find him in a... compromising situation. But he's not crying. You better rectify that.

Contents: NO Y/N, sub!Spencer, dom!Reader, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, praise kink, overuse of 'good boy', If I missed any warnings please tell me!

2.7K words

"I bet he keeps his socks on," you joked, stealing a piece of candy from Derek and popping it in your mouth. He threw his head back in a hearty chuckle.

"Or he takes only one off. Whichever one fits the vibe stays, since he's always mismatching." Derek added. He was about to continue, but you cut him off with a panicked look, spotting Spencer with a frown on his face.

"If you guys wanted to know whether I keep my socks on, you could've just asked. There's no need to speculate and joke about my sex life behind my back. But I guess that's what pricks do." Spencer stomped to his desk, not making any eye contact.

"No need to get so worked up over it, Reid. You should really take that edge off, somehow. You can whine either way." You continued chewing on the tough candy, taking another one from Morgan and throwing it in Spencer's direction when he didn't reply.

"Yeah, Pretty Boy. When's the last time you got laid?" Derek raised an eyebrow. Spencer visibly tensed before pushing himself away from his desk and walking off.

Convinced you'd upset him, you told Derek you'd go after him. Derek shrugged, saying he was heading home.

You nearly collided with Hotch as he was leaving his office, clearly headed home.

"Don't stay too late, there's a lot of catching up to do that can wait until tomorrow morning," he mentioned before walking to the elevator.

You knocked on Rossi's door, entering when he answered. "Hey, did you see where Reid went? I think I might've upset him," you cringed.

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that could possibly upset the kid. But he walked down the hall to the left from what I saw." Rossi clasped his hands together.

"Thanks, Rossi. You're a lifesaver."

You bid him goodbye before following his directions down the hall. You heard soft noises from one of the empty offices near the end of the long, winding hallway. It sounded like... Spencer?

Was he crying? You hadn't thought he was that upset.

You creaked the door open as silently as humanly possible, ready to console him and apologize for your teasing.

You couldn't see him clearly, the light from the hallway polluting your vision into the dimly lit office. But you could hear him. God, could you hear him.

The soft whines emitting from his throat drowned out the barely audible noise of his slick hand sliding over his hard length.

Your heart rate skyrocketed. Spencer's touching himself. You felt a wicked smile creep upon your lips.

You listened in on him a little longer, determining whether you were daydreaming or if the universe was really throwing this situation in your lap.

His soft whines turned into pleas. It was obvious this wasn't the first time for his current fantasy. It seemed played out.

You knew it was your lucky day when a begging whisper of your name fell off his lips. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Your hand crept through the gap of the door, hand blindly seeking the light switch. You found it but didn't yet turn it on.

You heard him get closer to the edge, exactly where you wanted him. When the noises of his hand sped up, desperately so, you made your move.

You slammed the door open and turned on the bright, white light simultaneously. Spencer jumped to gather himself, wide eyes meeting your own.

"What are you doing, Spencer?" Your tone was mocking. You already knew the answer, and Spencer had never felt more caught. His breath was haggard, eyes glazed over, lips pouting. He looked like a little puppy.

"I'm- I was just- Uh-" Spencer stammered. You gave him a condescending smile.

"I- Uh- I- You what, Spencer?" You finally walked into the room, closing the door behind you. You took slow steps towards the leather couch.

Spencer was frozen. You never called him by his first name. He'd managed to haphazardly tuck himself back into his pants, but a small wet spot was already forming on the front. He'd been so close.

He refused to look at you, choosing to stare at his lap, where his hands were unsubtly crossed over his crotch. You examined him for a second before taking his chin in your hand, squeezing his cheeks slightly. You turned his face upwards, forcing him to meet your eyes.

"Answer my question, Spencer," you demanded. He looked up at you through damp lashes. He'd really worked up a sweat.

He made a couple desperate noises but couldn't utter a coherent sentence. You raised your eyebrows. A constricted sigh left him as he looked at you in desperation.

"What's the matter, baby? You usually have so much to say. Don't you have an answer for me, boy genius?" You pouted sarcastically. Your grip on his chin tightened.

"I-" Spencer's eyes glazed over.

"-was touching myself? Yeah, I gathered as much," you finished for him. You turned his face, examining it from every angle as you slowly brought your foot up to his crotch.

"Move your hands, Pretty Boy," you demanded, pressing your foot against them. Spencer's eyes squeezed shut, slowly moving his hands. You chuckled darkly as you felt up his length.

You tossed his head to the side and pushed on his shoulder, making him fall back against the couch. You slowly moved your legs to either side of his, straddling him. You moved your hips experimentally, purposely grinding against his clothed cock for good measure.

His hands reached for your waist, but you grabbed his wrists before he could. "No touching. Sit on them if you think you can't stop yourself."

Spencer moved quickly, tucking his hands under his thighs. You ran your fingers over the side of his face. He really was pretty. You stroked a finger between his eyebrows in an attempt to iron out the crease. His face and entire body were tense with anticipation.

You ground your hips agonizingly slow. Your sluggish movement was obviously not enough for the whimpering man under you, but he knew better than to do anything about it.

You would've continued your teasing longer, but you knew he'd been close to coming seconds before you barged in. You felt the wet spot on his slacks grow larger with the movement. He trashed, uncertainty written on his face. He had to touch you, had to move, had to do something, but he couldn't.

"Please," Spencer uttered the magic word you'd been waiting for. You smiled and got off his lap, getting on your knees in front of the couch.

You reached for his belt and undid it, all while your eyes never left his. You slowly tugged the slacks down, along with his boxers. His cock bounced free instantly, throbbing and red. Spencer clenched his eyes shut at the sensation.

"Nu-uh, Spence. Look at me. Don't you want to be a good boy?" Your fingers wrapped around his shaft menacingly.

"Yes! Yes, please. Want to be a good boy for you. Only you. Please," he begged.

You smiled in satisfaction as you gave him a squeeze. Spencer threw his head back at the sensation, only to push it back and meet your eyes like you'd enforced.

You moved forward and leaned over his lap, bringing the tip of his weeping dick to your mouth. You gave the slit a kittenish lick, collecting some pre-cum on your tongue.

You saw Spencer breathe heavily, trying to contain himself. He bit his lip, attempting to suppress any noise, but failing miserably.

You never took him into your mouth fully, only licking around the tip and squeezing his shaft every so often.

"So good for me, Spence. You're gonna have to be quiet, though. Rossi's still here, and you know what a gossip he is," You stroked him as you spoke. You sped up your pace, enjoying seeing him try to stay quiet.

His legs twitched, and you knew he was getting close. You quickly pulled your hand off him and got up off the floor. A loud groan left him at the loss of sensation, hips shooting up off the couch.

The sound of his frantic breaths was like music to your ears.

You moved to stand over him, tugging at the hem of his sweater vest.

"C'mon, baby. Hands up," you urged, pulling the fabric over his head. You reached for his tie, undoing it and setting it aside for later.

"Take your shirt off," you commanded, stepping back to watch the show. Spencer removed his hands from where he sat on them, watching you as he struggled to unbutton the shirt. You leaned against the desk nonchalantly, admiring your fingernails.

He nearly sobbed in despair, shaking hands unable to undo the buttons. You liked him like this; helpless and desperate. You laughed at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he finally got the last button opened. He hastily rid himself of the shirt and searched your face for approval.

"Hmm, good job, baby. Now, put those hands back where they came from. Remember, no touching," you reminded him. He tucked them back under his legs, and you pet his hair in approval before reaching for where you'd placed his tie.

"Say 'Ah'," you motioned for him to copy you. He hesitantly opened his mouth. You raised an eyebrow, and he quickly opened it further. You placed the fabric of his tie in his mouth, tying it behind his head. He gurgled a little, struggling to give the makeshift gag a place.

You got back on his lap, putting a hand in his hair and tugging at the roots. Spencer yelped but clearly liked the pain, eyes dilating. You moved his head backwards, exposing his neck for you. You placed a few kisses on his jaw, before moving down to his neck. You sucked several spots before finding the sweet spot that had him whimpering once again. His hands shot up from under his thighs, reaching for your ass.

You removed your mouth from his neck, yanking at his hair. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

Spencer shook his head aggressively.

"Words, baby."

"N-no, ma'am," he stuttered. You smirked. Ma'am, huh? You liked the sound of that.

"Good boy," you whispered in his ear. His hips ground upwards, desperate for attention. You decided you were done toying with him. You were glad you'd worn a somewhat loose skirt to work that day.

You reached between your thighs, pulling your underwear aside. You lined yourself up, steadying yourself with one hand on Spencer's shoulder, the other on his cock.

You sunk down, only slipping the tip inside before stopping. Your legs were going to kill you tomorrow, holding up your weight above his length, but it was worth it for the tears welling up in Spencer's eyes.

"You're gonna cry?" You mocked, hand returning to grip his chin and squish his cheeks. He tried to keep it in, but the second you sunk down, fully sheathing him inside, the tears spilt, rolling down his cheeks.

"You're so pretty when you cry, Spencer. My gorgeous little crybaby," You admitted. You lifted your hips, pushing them back down against his harshly. More tears ran down his face.

"Shh, baby. Filling me up so nicely. Such a good boy for me." You assured him, setting a slow pace and bouncing on his cock.

"Please, faster. Just a little, please," Spencer pleaded through the gag, almost unintelligibly. You pretended to think it over.

"No, I don't think I will," you decided. It was mean. He begged you so nicely. A sob wrecked his throat. There it is.

He convulsed in a mixture of pleasure and desperation, hips snapping up to meet yours.

"Please, oh my God, Please!" It was like the only words left in his vocabulary were ones to beg for you. He sounded angelic.

You barely increased your speed, but Spencer went berserk over it. You brought a hand to his face, wiping away the tears and looking into his eyes.

"Such a good boy, so pretty. You're so good for me, Spencer," you babbled, losing your grip on the situation. He was hitting the right spot inside you over and over again.

You closed your eyes in pleasure, frantically sliding on his dick. "Fuck, Spencer," a breathy moan escaped you.

A newfound, frenzied whine reached your ears. You opened your eyes to look at Spencer, who seemed to calm at the eye contact. He wanted to watch you, make sure he was being good.

"M-more, Fu-more, Pl-please," Spencer stuttered. He could barely get the words out over the gag and pleasure soaring through his veins.

You obeyed, bringing your hands back to his hair and tugging harshly. You leaned forward to whisper in his ear, taking the tie out of his mouth. "You can touch me, now. Touch me, Spencer. Make me come. Make me come like a good boy."

Spencer groaned loudly at the words, hands immediately moving to your waist. His hips started moving uncontrollably, desperately chasing his release.

You tugged at his hair in warning. "I said make me come, baby. I didn't say you could."

His eyes widened, and he quickly moved his hands between your bodies, seeking eye contact to ask for permission. You nodded wildly, growing more desperate for your own release.

His fingers made quick work of finding your clit, rubbing ferociously. The sensation sent you reeling, moaning loudly in his ear. A particularly sharp thrust nearly made you scream, tightening your grip on his gorgeous locks. "Shit, Spencer! Fuck, so good. So fucking good, baby. So big inside of me."

You could feel Spencer was nearing his release again. This time, you had no intention to stop him, but he didn't know that. He was still frantically trying to tip you over the edge and succeeding. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, losing your grip on his hair and falling forward against his naked chest. Your hands found leverage on the couch, digging your nails in the leather as Spencer continued fucking up into you.

"Please, can I come? Please, let me come with you. 've been a good boy, right?" Spencer begged. His desperate whines sounded so good, incoherent mumbles of "Oh my God" and "Please" repeatedly falling off his lips.

"Yes, you can come for me, Spencer. Come with me. Make me come on your cock," you encouraged.

Spencer snapped, no longer caring if anybody heard him. His whines and moans were getting higher in pitch and shorter in frequency, mirroring your own.

"F-feel so good around me. So tight. So good. Gonna come, g- gonna," Spencer's hips stuttered, thick length throbbing as he pushed it deep inside one last time.

"Fuck, Spencer!"

"Oh my God, oh my God, f-fuck," Spencer was unusually vulgar as he coated your walls. You sat down on his cock for a minute, gathering your breath and wiping the tears and other fluids from Spencer's face.

You pushed a strand of hair away from his eyes and smiled timidly at him. "Hi."

Spencer laughed a little and smiled back, breath still irregular. "Hi, yourself."

"You good? I didn't go too far? I'm sorry for springing that on you, Reid. I didn't mean to make you cry." You ran your hands over his chest.

"No! It was perfect. I loved it. T'was just really intense, you know?" He reassured you. "And please, we're past the last name basis now, don't you think?" You nodded and smiled, admiring his face for a second longer before carefully sliding yourself off him.

Spencer winced, incredibly sensitive. Your sadistic side bubbled to the surface, if only for a split second, and gave his overstimulated cock a couple of tugs. He trashed against your touch, loud, pained wails falling from his lips. You let him go, walking to the desk and grabbing a couple of tissues to clean yourself up.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," you smirked. Spencer's chest was heaving, but there was a satisfied smile on his face.

"I guess you do have your answer now. I still have my socks on."

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7ndipity · 4 months

Text

Aftercare Headcanons

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How each member would handle aftercare with their S/o

Warnings: mentions of sex(nothing explicit tho), not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!(note: since I did a similar list for Hobi a while back, part of his section is kinda reiterations from that post).

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin:

Aftercare with him is pretty quiet, tbh. He tends to get a lil shy after sex, especially if it was a rougher, more intense session, so he mainly likes to just hold you and talk for a while to help you both calm down.

He’s pretty simplistic when it comes to his routine(hydrate, wash up, sleep), but he’s super cute and gentle about the whole process, cracking lame jokes here and there to make you laugh(lowkey bc it’s part of how he checks to make sure you’re in a good headspace afterwards, but also just bc it’s Jin)

Lots of soft kisses and lingering touches as the two of you clean up(loves showering with you and would totally just stay in there hugging you till the water runs cold)

Will happily make you both some snacks if you’re hungry, but he definitely needs a nap with you to fully recharge.

Yoongi:

As I’ve said before, acts of service is his main love language, so this is very much his wheelhouse.

He’s surprisingly cuddly after sex, especially if it was a more intense session. He finds quiet skinship afterwards even more important than during the act. He might restrict your hands so you can’t touch him during sex, but afterwards he’s making sure to hold them and let you touch and feel him, helping both of you ground yourselves.

He might not be the most elaborate with his routine, but he’s very serious about the basics. Like, he knows you might feel too tired to do much, but he will nag your ear off about dehydration and the dangers of UTIs if he has to till you drink some water and go to the bathroom.

He kinda melts when you look after him too, tending any scratches or marks and offering to massage any sore muscles. He’s used to being the one in the caregiver role, so when the roles reverse, he turns into the softest baby.

Hobi:

He’s so soft and giggly after sex, his hands never leaving you, playing with your hands as he leaves little kisses all over your face, speaking softly as he asks how you feel and if there’s anything you need.

He tends to go into caretaker mode a lil bit, making sure you have some water, maybe a snack if you feel up for it, carefully checking you over for any marks or sore spots that need extra care if it was a more intense session.

He almost forgets to look after himself as well until you kinda take the reins on him, treating him in much the same manner as he does you. Loves when you wash his hair for him in the shower.

After you’re both clean and back in the bed, he likes to just kinda hang out with you, watching a movie or show together, even though he almost always ends up falling asleep while you play with his hair.

Namjoon:

Honestly, he gets a little shy/nervous during aftercare? He knows he has a tendency of getting pretty rough even during softer sessions, so once he calms down and his head clears, he wants to make sure you’re okay and that he didn’t go overboard.

Handles you so tenderly and with so much gentleness. Takes a lot of pride in getting to look after you in such intimate ways, washing and drying your body, helping you get dressed, making sure you eat and drink something before you fall asleep, etc.

Absolutely melts at the way you take care of him afterwards too, always ready with gentle reassurances and soothing touches as you work out any soreness he has(could honestly lead to a super soft round two if you’re not careful)

He doesn’t usually fall asleep that quickly after sex, so once you’re both clean and settled in the bed or wherever, he likes to talk for a while till one of you falls asleep, tending to get a little sentimental as he goes on.

Jimin:

He’s so sweet and comforting after sex, aftercare with him would be full of the softest touches and kisses, refusing to leave your side for more than a minute(unless you want some time by yourself, then he’s waiting impatiently for the second you say okay so he can tackle you for another cuddle session)

Likes just getting to lay with you for a while as you come down, talking quietly while running his hands over your body absent-mindedly or playing with your fingers to help you both ground yourselves.

Takes looking after you quite seriously though, making sure you drink enough water and do some stretches to relieve any soreness in your limbs before moving on to the shower to clean up(where he will continue to hug/cling to you as you help wash each other)

Gets quite tired afterwards, but will only fall asleep once he’s sure you’re both okay and tended to, either holding you close to his chest or vice versa.

Taehyung:

He’s usually super sleepy after sex, so initial aftercare is pretty basic, but still super important for both of you.

He tends to get really clingy, needing to hold you close as the two of you talk and get your bearings, seeking reassurance that you’re okay and that you both feel good, that you love him, etc.

Honestly, you might have to take the reigns a little bit to make sure you’re both clean and hydrated and taken care of in those ways before he falls asleep on you(he just feels soo subby to me, I can’t)

In the morning/after a nap however, you’re waking up to a bubble bath, food, massages, the full royal treatment. He basically waits on you hand and foot for the next couple hours to make up for his initial lack of focus.

Jungkook:

He is so soft but serious about aftercare. He knows he can be more than a little rough when he’s lost in the moment, so he tries to counter that by being extra gentle with you afterwards.

He has the whole thing down to a system, it’s almost like a post workout routine for him, (lowkey the type to high-five you afterwards like “good job babe”🙄)

He’s honestly kinda hyper about the whole thing? Like, as soon as he manages to catch his breath, he’s immediately up and all over the place, getting you both some water, helping you to the bathroom to wash up(will straight up carry you if your legs are shaky) grabbing some fresh sheets if needed.

It’s only once you’re both clean and tended to that he kinda starts to slump and gets tired and cuddly, snuggling close to you before dozing off.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

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starbandit · 25 days

Text

Sticky (J.H.S)

Preview: You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you.

contains- teasing, slight degradation, small amount of ass slapping/spanking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, dom!hoseok, dirty talk, begging, established relationship 18+ MDI!

word count - 2.8k/unedited

You held your breath as you typed in the code to the studio. Hoseok had left early in the morning, while the sun was still working its way into the sky and the morning dew was still hugging the grass. He didn’t leave before giving you a soft kiss on the forehead, and a gentle tuck of the blankets though. He loved the way you curled up closer to his side, stealing any of the left over body heat.

You wanted to surprise him with a late night snack,you had a little craving for ice cream and wanted to share the sweet treat with him.You had picked up some ice cream on your way over and snuck into the Hybe building. The door unlocked with a click and you silently pushed the door open, hoping you wouldn't give up the surprise too soon.

Only, the room is empty when you open the door all the way. Hobi’s computer is powered off, the chair is neatly pushed in, everything is perfectly in its place and shut down. Did he leave while you were on your way over? No, you would have crossed paths at some point, right? Maybe he had stepped out for a minute and would be back. You took a deep breath before your brain started to feed you extreme thoughts. Kidnapping, him cheating, all of it rushed in at once before you shut the door and made your way down the hall. There was one more place he could be.

As you approached the practice room, you could hear the loud and heavy beats of music. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t damaged his hearing yet with how loud the music was, but you creeped in, trying not to be spotted and sat on the couch in the corner of the practice room and admired your boyfriend.

He was staring himself down in the mirror, examining every small step he made. Each one was done with practiced confidence, perfect execution. You would never not be amazed at how his body went from moving in a wave, like he had absolutely no bones, to these extreme sharp movements in an instant.

Soon enough, Hoseok stopped dancing and instead crouched down to check his phone. It wasn’t until he looked into the mirror that he spotted you. His face instantly lit up, a large smile growing as he stood back up. “Baby!” He squealed out as he rushed towards you. “When did you get here?”

You giggled as he cupped your face and planted tiny kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. He caught you in a warm kiss, soft and innocent. You smiled against his lips before he pulled away.

“I brought ice cream.” You smiled as he made a surprised expression, mouth forming a cute ‘O’ shape.

Hoseok smiled and pulled you into a hug. He was sweaty, his shirt damp from the hours he spent dancing. He gave you a tight squeeze, rocking from side to side. “Thank you.” He planted yet another kiss on the top of your head before releasing you to dig into the ice cream.

The two of you enjoyed the ice cream, both giggling as you stole bites of the other's flavor. Conversation flowed naturally as Hoseok talked about his day, all the hard work he had put into his set, and how he was so excited for you to see how it turned out. He listened as you rambled on about your day as well, nodding along with the conversation as you talked about annoying co-workers and wanting to stay in bed all day.

“I’m going to run through one more time and then I’ll head home with you,” Hoseok moved to clean up the empty ice cream cups. “Does that sound okay, baby?”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name. No matter how long you had been together, it still made you feel like the day you started dating. You hummed in confirmation and nodded your head. “I’ll be cheering you on, like always.”

He smiled and finished cleaning up, before running back over to the mirrors and tapping play on his playlist. You watched him carefully as he ran through, making it about halfway before his actions made your heart race. You watched as the mirror began to fog up, you could see the sweat beading on his face.

Hoseok reached down and tugged his shirt off, throwing it off to the side as he continued to dance. His soft abs flexed with every movement. The blood rushed to your face and you felt your cheeks growing hot. Sweat glistened on his skin, dripping down and highlighting every section of his abs, all the way down to the thin layer of hair that dipped below his waistband.

You gulped, swallowing down all the thoughts that flooded your brain. You wanted to pounce on him, something animalistic was growing inside of you.

Suddenly, the music stopped and Hoseok was stood in front of you. He crouched down next to you and silently captured you in a kiss. It was soft and warm, a stark contrast to the dance you had just watched him perform. It was always warm with Hoseok, something you could melt into in an instant. You did so, easily falling into his touch and the softness of his lips.

His hands held you gently, a small hum sounding from him as you moved closer to dig your hands into his hair. Your hands made their way to the back of his head, your fingers tangling in the sweaty strands. You gave them a gentle tug, something you knew Hoseok enjoyed.

He let out a small whimper at the movement and you quickly captured his bottom lip in a light nibble. You whined quietly as he pulled away from the kiss, not yet untangling your fingers from his locks. “Come on, let's go home.” Hoseok said quietly, moving to help pull you up.

You shook your head, fighting the movement. You wanted, no, needed him now. You weren’t going to wait for however long it took you to walk home. You pulled him down into another kiss, this time growing much hotter. Your hands gripped his hair, tugging at the locks a little harsher this time, and deepened the kiss. Your tongue peaked into his mouth, tasting the remaining sweetness of the ice cream on his tongue.

Hoseok smirked against your lips as he pulled away. “That impatient?” He questioned in a teasing tone. He shook his head. “Such a needy baby.” He gently tugged you closer, tugging you into his lap after he sat on the ground. You could feel his growing erection against your heat, the thin shorts he had on covered absolutely nothing. You sighed at the feeling, rocking your hips forward in a slow grind as you leaned in for another kiss.

Hoseok gently cupped your face, taking control of the kiss this time. He kissed you a little too soft, a little too slow, just enough to keep you wanting more. Each time you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled back slightly. He was teasing you, like a bird taunts a cat through the window. He did it for long enough to draw a needy whine out of your throat before he fully kissed you, capturing you in a red hot, messy kiss.

You moaned at the feeling, your hands reaching up to find purchase on his bare chest. You melted into the kiss, allowing Hoseok to paint your mouth with his tongue. His kisses were intoxicating, your brain buzzing with the feeling and taste of him. The subtle sweetness mixed with his natural taste was enough to soak your underwear.

“Couldn’t even let me finish my work,” Hoseok snaked his hand between the two of you, fingers dancing over your clothed center. “You were that desperate for my cock, hm?” He teased as he pushed your hair to the side with his other hand. His head dipped down to suck on the sensitive skin of your neck. “Such a needy little baby.”

“Hoseok,” You whimpered as he rubbed small circles over your clothed clit. Your hips twitched forward, searching for more friction. “Hobiii,” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

He hummed against your skin, trailing his tongue from the base of your neck up to your ear. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” He nibbled on the outside of your ear, a shiver snuck its way now your back at the sensation.

“You, I want you.”

Hoseok chuckled. “Be specific.”

Your ears grew hot. You could be specific. Tell him about how you want him to strip you naked and eat your pussy like it was his last meal, wanted him to sink his fingers deep into you and massage the spot that made you see stars. You could tell him how you wanted to ride him, bounce on his cock until you were shaking and out of breath.

But that isn’t what came out of your mouth. “I want you to fuck me, please, fuck me until I can’t walk.”

“Come on,” Hoseok withdrew his hand and bounced his leg to get you to stand. You stood up and followed Hoseok. He led you to the front of the room, straight in front of the large mirror that sprawled across most of the wall. He quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and folded it, placing it in front of the mirror. “On your hands and knees.”

You froze for a second before a smack on your ass made you jump. “I said, on your hands and knees, or do I need to force you?” Hoseok questioned. You quickly dropped to your knees, falling onto the shirt. You watched as Hoseok pulled his shorts and boxers off at once, kicking them across the floor. Saliva built up in your mouth as you stared at his cock, tip pretty pink and shiny with precum.

It wasn’t long before Hoseok dropped to his knees as well and pulled your pants down, the waistband settling in the crevices of your knees. “I want you to watch.” He gently tugged on your hair to make you pick up your head. You locked eyes in the mirror, your stomach fluttering with nerves as you watched him. Your arms shook as he placed a hand on your ass and used the other one to drag his cock up and down your pussy. You watched as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, admiring you. “Hobi, please,” You whimpered as you pushed back slightly, trying to get him to do something.

His hand pulled away before coming down again, a sharp smack sounding through the room. You winced as he rubbed his hand over the area, soothing the hot skin. “So needy,” He muttered under his breath as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock before plunging in.

A moan ripped its way through your body as he settled into place. Your arms shook before crumpling under you, your cheek making contact with the cold floor. Hoseok gave you a few thrusts, hips moving with practiced ease, hitting every spot that made your eyes roll back. You whimpered with every movement.

Hoseok's grip tightened on your hip, pulling you back with each movement to meet him. His other hand trailed up your back, fingertips tickling the skin and making you wiggle with every touch. His hand landed under your shirt, skin hot and burning your back the longer it sat there. He stayed for a few moments before his hand retreated from under your shirt and moved over the fabric, finding its way up the back of your neck and into your hair. His fingers tangled into the locks, twisting them over his hand and tugging hard. A whimper flew out of your mouth as he tugged again, this time enough to get you to push back up to your hands and stay there.

“Good girl,” He growled out a small praise. “Look in the mirror, watch yourself.”

You were a mess. You caught a fuzzy glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the glass was fogging back up, moisture beading and dripping. Your lips were bitten red and glossy, the color matched the deep blush of your cheeks. Drool glistened and stained your chin, sweat dripped down your neck and painted the hickeys Hoseok had so graciously left on your neck. Your eyes were glassy and pupils blown, eyebrows furrowed together in pleasure.

Your eyes flickered to Hoseok, who was intensely watching your every move. An animalistic glint glossed over his eyes and a smirk painted his face as he delivered a particularly deep thrust. You tightened around him, watching as his jaw clenched and a groan pushed its way out of his body.

Every roll of his hips brought you closer and closer to your orgasm. The drag of his cock over your walls made your thighs shake. You pressed back in desperation, trying to get him impossibly closer, deeper. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gasped, chasing the high that was just out of reach.

“Poor baby, do you want to cum?” Hoseok wiggled his hips before stopping his movements, cock nestled deep in your pussy. “Pretty girl, are you close?” He released your hair, gently combing through the sweaty strands.

You whimpered and nodded. “Please, wanna cum.” You pushed back against him. The heat was dissipating with every second. “Please, Hoseok, I can’t.” You let out a broken moan.

“I wanna watch you do it, fuck yourself on my cock, baby.” He planted another smack on your ass.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you tried to find a messy rhythm. You rocked yourself back on Hoseok’s cock, moving your hips in an attempt to hit the same spots he was. A frustrated whine left your lips as you desperately tried to chase your high back, the heat slowly building up once more in your abdomen.

You continued until you were out of breath and collapsed forward with a pathetic moan. “Too tired, baby?” Hoseok reached forward to gently stroke your hair. You gave a small nod. His features softened before his grip on your hips tightened. “You were so close, huh?” He rolled his hips forward once more. He clicked his tongue and let out a breath. “Do you want me to make you cum?”

You had never agreed to anything faster. Hoseok immediately picked up where he had left off, moving his hips in ways you could only dream of and hitting spots that made you see stars. His hands danced from your hips, snaking around until his fingers found your clit.

“Fuck, fuck,” A guttural moan ripped through your body. The heat in your abdomen grew as Hoseok rubbed the bundle of nerves. “I-i’m gonna cum, please don’t stop.”

“Cum for me, baby.” Hoseok grunted. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass grew louder. “Cum on my cock, I know you want to.”

“S-shit.” Your whole body shook as your orgasm washed over you, your pussy spasming around Hoseok's cock. Your vision went white and your ears began ringing as you let out a loud, pornographic moan.

You heard Hoseok let out a string of curse words, his hips stuttering forward in a messy rhythm. “Gonna fucking,” He let out a strangled moan, “Fill you up so good.” You gasped as he released, hot cum painting your insides. That alone was almost enough to push you into another orgasm, almost.

Hoseok stayed where he was for a few moments and drew small circles over the exposed skin on your lower back. “You ready?” He questioned softly. He waited for a hum of confirmation before slowly pulling out of you. The cum dripped down your thigh as you collapsed to the ground, groaning at the soreness in your muscles. You were thankful of the shirt Hoseok had placed below you, it had both saved your knees from more pain and was going to make for easier clean up.

Hoseok hushed you as he wiped you clean with the discarded shirt before wiggling your pants back up over your hips. He gave your ass a soft pat before moving to get redressed himself, digging through his bag to find a fresh t-shirt.

He wasn’t about to let you sleep on the floor, instead coaxing you up with promises of a nice bath and a head massage at home. He giggled and cooed over your tired expression as you stood up, dodging a playful slap from you at the teasing. Hoseok admired your features for a few moments longer before you two set off back home. He couldn’t believe you were his, his pretty baby.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #hoseok imagine #hoseok fanfic #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #jhope fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #hoseok oneshot #jhope one shot #jung hoseok smut #jung hoseok x reader #my writing #once again based on a dream i had

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arminsumi · 5 months

Note

Heyy iam a big fan and omg- i really love ur workkkkkkk and everything 😭😭😭😭 i wan wondering if u can make

Husband gojo x fem reader after care

Like taking bath tougher helping u to dress up and moree plzz plzz😭😭🌸

And tysmmmmmmm

AFTERCARE

GOJO さとる

Note : ah thank you!! 💗😣 i love this request, aftercare is so nice to write i rlly should consider adding more aftercare scenes to my smut. thank u!!

Warnings : 🔞 mdni/18+, aftercare

He lovingly feels up and massages your sweaty body with his pale, veiny hands, going back and forth on your thighs and applying more pressure when you groan in relief at certain points.

"Where are my panties?" you ask.

"I have no idea." he chuckles.

Satoru lets you catch your breath while he searches the bed for your panties. He starts giggling and so do you — for some reason your panties always vanish; they go from dangling on your ankle to being haphazardly tossed off by your man (maybe landing on the lampshade) or being buried under the covers.

"Found them." Satoru giggles harder, "They were under the pillow this time."

When you stand, you feel a burn in your thigh muscles and complain loudly "My legs!"

Satoru makes a guilty smile. "Don't look at me, I have nothing to do with it."

He acts like he's not responsible for making your legs wobbly even though he's the one who's been manhandling you into positions on his cock for the past hour.

Satoru runs a bubble bath and gets a little crazed when he sees you getting in. He unashamedly checks out your ass and makes a low whistle.

He has to help you lower yourself into the tub, because you're feeling unsteady and sore after taking him.

"Careful, don't slip." it's these little, under-the-breath comments that show how gentle Satoru is as a lover.

He's always thinking of your comfort after sex, and during it, with his asks of "Is it too much?" or "Should I go slower?" or "Are you tired, wanna stop?"

Aftercare with Satoru feels sacred. He lovingly cares for your body like it's a divine creature gifted to him from heaven. He gives you these cascading caresses down your arms to soothe them, because he knows they must be sore after he pulled them behind your back while taking you from behind earlier.

He starts giving you a massage while in the bath without you needing to ask — he knows you need it, and he wants to do it.

He's smirking against the back of your ear "Ooh, found ya weak spot." when you moan at the influence of his hands.

"I remember before we were engaged, you were embarrassed about showing me your soft cock—" you tease.

"—I WAS NOT!"

"Haha! Yes you were. You always pulled out super quickly and wrapped the sheets around your waist as if you would just die of embarrassment if I saw it soft."

He washes your hair and happily puts up with your teasing in the bathtub about the days when you two were just dating.

"You were such an idiot in love." you say.

"What do you mean? I'm still an idiot in love." he beams, sneaking a cheek kiss from behind. "I'm always dumb for you."

You nod, "Mhm. A dumb husband."

"Excuse me, "a" husband? YOUR husband, you mean."

You sigh at him. "I'm getting out the bath."

He wraps his arms around your chest tightly, one hand possessively cupping your breast. You feel his wet torso pressing against your back, firm and wet and soap-sudsy.

"Nooo, stay. There's still bubbles." he says.

"It's getting cold in here, you idiot!"

"But the bubbles!!"

He insists that you hold onto his bicep while stepping out the bath. He doesn't want you to slip. (He also just loves the feeling of your small hands grabbing his bicep and wishes you'd do it more often.)

"What else is your big, handsome, muscular husband for?"

"Shut up before I turn you into a big, handsome, muscular ex-husband."

He grins at you and wraps a towel around your body.

"No, you shut up before I take you back to bed for round two." he threatens playfully.

"You wouldn't..."

Satoru picks you up and takes you back to the bed.

But no, he hears your complaints about being sore and tired and quickly tucks you into the soft bed.

"Satoru, I'm tired."

"Yes I know, buttercup. You stay right here 'n I'll get you a water."

So he does. You take tiny sips that he thinks are adorable. He stares at your throat as you swallow a big gulp, and the sound makes him wiggle his brow. You smack him.

"Damn, you're a thirsty slut." he jokes when you finish the whole glass of water.

You smack him again. He wraps his arms around you and you smile softly. You're in that daze, you feel like you're drifting.

Shielding you with his body, happily feeling like he's your protector, he waits for you to fall asleep first and then he lets himself fall asleep, too.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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reiderwriter · 4 months

Note

Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3

I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.

The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)

I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">

A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!

Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI

It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.

You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.

You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.

You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.

You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.

JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.

He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.

“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.

He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.

“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.

“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”

“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”

Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.

“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”

“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”

“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.

“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.

–X–

After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.

Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.

“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.

You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.

The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.

You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.

“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.

Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.

You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.

“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.

More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.

You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.

“Spencer! What's… what are…”

“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”

You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.

“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”

His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.

“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”

“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”

His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.

His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.

“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.

“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”

His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.

You didn't.

Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.

Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.

He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.

He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.

You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.

It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.

The next one was harder though. It was real.

“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.

“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”

His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.

The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.

You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.

You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.

“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.

It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.

It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.

He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.

“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.

“Y-Yes, Spencer.”

“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.

“Yes, sir.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”

With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.

With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.

With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.

It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.

You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.

His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.

You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.

Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.

And most importantly, he didn't stop.

Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.

“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.

“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”

“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.

“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”

“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”

Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.

But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.

“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”

“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”

He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.

“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.

When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.

After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.

He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.

“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”

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

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jarofstyles · 11 months

Text

Deep Inside

Wolfrry breeding, as popular demand.

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writings.

Warnings: knotting, breeding kink, slight primal play, degradation if you squint

WC- 2.1k

——-

Harry’s eyes stayed intently on her. Holding a little pup in her lap, cradled carefully on her thighs as she sat against the tree with her fingers stroking back wispy hair. He could hear the soft coos over the crackling fire, their weekly bonfire giving the Alpha pair a chance to bind with their pack and let them feel more secure in their leadership.

Y/N always had a soft spot for the pups, but this was a new baby. A new addition to the pack and the first bonfire for the little one. The mother was happy to hand Y/N her pup. It was a great honor to have the alpha female dote and care for your pup. No one would refuse that. There were whispers that the alpha female of every pack would grant blessings each time the pup was held by her, so no one in their right mind would hesitate to hand them over.

It was even more so with his mate. She was a natural with them. Gentle and soft and her demeanor strong enough to demand the respect she deserved, yet tender enough for the pups to trust and crave her presence. They followed her around and liked to show her their tricks and toys while she happy observed when she had the time. Babies were some of her favorite though.

Harry couldn’t help but selfishly enjoy the sight. Her fingers playing with the chubby cheeks and tickling the little soft tummy, making the baby giggle with joy. Little pudgy fingers grasped her fingers, which Y/N brought to her own mouth to feign eating them with a comical noise. The pup let out a squeal of comical delight, kicking his little legs at the motion.

“You’re incredible, aren’t you? Strong little wolf.” Harry approached quietly, not a sound made as to not disturb his love or the pup in her grasp. “Yes. You are. So strong and fierce, but you must never forget to have a gentle heart underneath the warrior walls. Okay? Your mate will thank you for it. You are to be kind… generous… sharp as a whip.” The baby gurgled in reply, making Y/N laugh. “Mhm… exactly.” Her finger tapped the little nose, watching it scrunch up. “But you see… your Alpha is trying to pretend he isn’t watching me play with you. It’s very distracting for me.”

Damn. He had been caught. A light chuckle left his chest, arms crossed as he emerged from his shadowy hiding spot and leaned against the tree to look down at the baby. The giggles stopped, a wide eyed look taking over the face- but no discomfort. His little legs kicked again, hand raising up as if to point before looking back at Y/N.

“Yes. That is your alpha. The strongest wolf in all of the lands.” She whispered. “One day you will fight beside him to take care of our pack. Maybe you will have another passion as well!” She squeezed his feet. “But he will make sure you are protected until you can protect yourself. Your father, him, all the pack. You are safe!” She cooed, making Harry’s heart grow a few sizes.

“His mother is looking for him.” He murmured to her, looking at the pup. She was, but Harry was feeling very interested in something else right now. “We are needed inside for a moment, my love. Let’s return him and then we can take care of the issue inside.”

—

Harry’s energy was big today. Y/N had a feeling she knew why he was crowding her space as they walked inside, excitement stinging her spine and warmth flooding her stomach. His hands had held her hips as he shuffled her towards his office, kicking the door shut behind him as his dark eyes took her in. He was hunting her.

“You know what it does to me.” He whispered, pressing her against the front of his desk. “What it calls to when I see you cradling pups that way. When you… lay there and allow me to watch you do the things I’ve been dreaming about for ages.” He dragged his nails over her sides, catching slightly on the material of her long dress. It was a gauzy material, one of his favorites from how it flowed behind her and made her the ethereal vision she always deserved to be admired as- but he was hating any barrier at the moment.

“It’s tradition, Alpha.” She was baiting his wolf,’knowing damn well what she was doing with those soft eyes and gentle voice. Fingers brushing through his long hair and tugging a bit at the little snares it had gotten,’making him growl. “I’m whispering blessings to babies. Shouldn’t that please you?” Her head tilted to the side, her calculating gaze hot and heavy as she leaned back slightly. “I always try to please you.”

“And you do. You do it so well… but I think it should be time that you do that to our pups.” He grunted, fingers bunching up the thin fabric and pulling it up. “You should be full of me, bred properly like the good mate you are. You should show everyone how taken you are, how good you take my cock. Stuff you full of me, my knot, our children….” He pulled the fabric above her hips. “I need it. I’m done waiting.”

He had been patient. They’d played around- but he was tired of waiting. Y/N was too, or she would have stopped him. But she was wet, dripping down her thighs at his words and the walk back. She had been well aware of his gaze and what it meant. He was going to fill her up to the brim with his cum and make it stick this time, and she ached for it.

“Then stop waiting.” Her finger traced his lip, a little gasp escaping as he caught the tip with his teeth and growled. “Take what you want.” Y/N finished the job, pulling the dress over her head and letting it fall before turning from his grasp and bending over the desk. She knew exactly what she was doing- giving him a mounting position and breaking his last straw.

It didn’t take long for her to feel the bare tip of his cock pressing inside of her. A pathetic whine left her throat, gripping the desk as she felt her cunt begin that stretch she loved oh so much. His prick sliding inside of her inch by inch, his hot breath washing over her back as he pressed wet kisses to her shoulder blades. Lettin mg every little bit of his cock fill her up until his balls were rested snug up against her and she began to squirm, a weak thrust up trying to get him to move.

“Stop.” He snarled, biting down on her shoulder in warning. “Lay there and take my cock like the good bitch y’are.” His voice was so deep, so rough, it had her eyes rolling back into her head. The man was everything to her, every little thing he did making her feel even more desperate. “Got to make sure you’re stretched. You’re soaked but it’s so tight…” he ground into her, curling his hand back around her throat as he arched her up.

“Oh my…. Fuck.” Y/N whispered, panting as she felt him pull out to slam back in, making her jolt over the desk. She never tired of the feeling of his cock taking up every bit of space inside of her body. “I love your cock, Alpha. I love it, I need it. Gimme more? Give it.” She tired to push back against him again, her cunt sweet and soft around his aching length. Harry loved being inside of her and feeling how she reacted to him.

“I’m going to give it all to you, you filthy little thing. Teasing me by being so sweet with the little ones… finally need to give me our own. Need to give you some to grow.” He grunted, beginning his brutal pace. He was on a mission to knock her up, to get her full and make it stick inside of her. It was time to start the breeding process and her body reacted beautifully.

Y/N was pliant under her, whimpering and whining as Harry did what he did best. Aggressive and hot, she let him handle her in the way he needed. Every single movement and bite had her floating, submitting to the Alpha the way the gods intended for her to do. His cock was thick and long, curved just right to hit the spot that had her cunt leaking down his balls. The feral sounds filled the office, her nails scratching marks into the priceless desk while he fucked her rough. His growls were against her ear, soaking up each and every noise his mate made as his cock wrecked her.

“There- there, alpha. Please stay right there, it’s gonna make me cum.” She pleaded, working through the squeal she had met out when he has shifted his hips just so. His filthy mouth was the cherry on top of the rough fuck that brought out the animalistic side of them.

“Just lay there and let me fuck you” he panted into her ear, the vibration of his words making her shiver. “You’re such a good little bitch. Laying out and letting your alpha use your hole the way it’s meant to be used.” He nuzzled against her neck thrusting into her at the deep pace she had begged for. It was a nasty mess in the room. Anyone inside the hall could smell it if they walked past, the scent of their sex and desperation clinging to the walls. The sounds were echoing through the room, the grunts and growls and her sloppy cunt being wrecked by his cock, Y/N unable to keep quiet with her little whines.

“My perfect little mate. You were made for me. Made t’have my children. I want to watch you swell with them… taste your breasts when they leak. I want to make you a mother, my love.” He slurred against her neck, feeling the beginnings of his knot. “M’gonna stuff you full of my knot and my load, make it stick. Get you pregnant and bred up for me the way you should stay. Gonna do it over n’over until it takes. I can’t stand it anymore.” He needed to have her pregnant. It didn’t feel like a want but a need.

“Please, alpha. Please breed me, I want it. I want it so bad, I want our babies, I want…” she sobbed out in pleasure and desperation. “Want to feel full. Want you to own me. Please, please- I feel it.” She said frantically. “I feel your knot, give it to me. Give it to me, put it in, knot me. Breed me, Harry.” She snarled, her nails digging into his wrist as he held her throat. He owned her, yes, but she owned him too.

A roar of pleasure hit the room as Harry caved to his mate’s requests. His knot catching and flaring inside to lock them together as she came all over his cock, her body convulsing slightly under him as she sobbed out his name. She was so full, so overwhelmed as she felt his body cover hers and rock inside as the ropes of cum continued to fill her.

“Give it, Harry. Give me all of it.” She whimpered, a tear dragging down her cheek. “Give me all of your cum. I want it to catch. Want your babies inside of me. Give me the pups.”

“It’s there, my love. It’s there. My perfect little breeding bitch.” He sighed, the pleasure still shooting through him as his cum shot into her in its heavy ribbons. Y/N shuddered under him, feeling every single throb of his cock as she was filled. It was one of her favorite feelings and Harry loved to give it to her.

“I love you. It’ll stick. M’gonna make sure you’re pregnant.” He turned her face to catch her lips, groaning happily into her mouth as her cunt milked his knot for all it was worth. “It’s coming soon. Don’t worry.”

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

Text

leveling the playing field // epilogue

summary: seven years later.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. this part is quite tame! idk, discussion of the games as a concept is pretty messed up? obviously r & coryo are both delusional but whats new??

a/n: this is it :') thank you all so so so much for all the love on this fic! it means so much to me that you guys enjoyed it! but don't get too sad (like me) bc i am not ready to let them go so i'll probably do like blurbs and stuff ab this series so stick around for those!

series masterlist // playlist

~ seven years later ~

"You've got this, Darling. It's going to be perfect." Coryo insists, kissing your temple as you relentlessly adjust your hair, trying to tame any imaginary flyaways in your flawlessly straightened hair.

"As long as it's not a disaster..." You mumble, giving up on your hair and refocusing on making sure you have all your papers.

Arena map? Check. Tribute and mentors list? Check. Schedule?

"With you in charge, I do not doubt that it will be anything short of flawless. I know you. You wouldn't have it any other way." Your husband assures you, taking your spot in front of the large mirror to adjust his red coat, matching to yours.

You sigh, tucking the large stack of meticulously organized papers into your bag. "I mean, does anyone honestly expect it to be perfect? It's my first games... There's a small margin for error, right?"

"No." Coryo replies sternly, turning to face you. He grabs your chin as you groan, forcing your eyes to meet his. "There's no room for error, but it will be perfect. So don't worry." He plants a gentle kiss on your lips. "And if you need anything, just call."

"Okay..." You hum, smiling as you look up at him. "I'm going to miss you, though." Your smile shifts into a pout, and he kisses your forehead.

"I know. I'll miss having my assistant around, too." He mumbles against the softness of your skin.

Your time working together under Dr. Gaul had been a dream. Why did everything have to change all at once? You've been together every day for years, and you had the most fun helping plan the games and pitching all your ideas to Dr. Gaul, staying up late over ideas due the next morning and too many cups of coffee, giggling over how funny it would be to see a games where the people of the Districts got to vote over who to send in.

"Do you think it's because that's kind of what happened to Lucy Gray?" You giggled in the dark, feeling Coryo's form shift under the blankets next to you before you felt his breath hit the side of your face.

"Now that you mention it..." He laughed quietly. "Yeah, it totally was."

You had always come up with Dr. Gaul's favourite ideas together. But now, she was gone. And it was just you. You honestly thought that woman was some kind of immortal beast, but clearly, no one is fully bulletproof.

She had offered the position of Head Gamemaker to both of you in her will. You and Coriolanus had worked well together, she had always said that about you. That the two of you were her favourite experiment.

"No, Darling. You take it."

"What? No, we've always done everything together." You protest, furrowing your brow. "She's offered it to both of us, we can do whatever we want, no more waiting for her approval. We can run with it! Come on, it'll be so fun, Coryo."

"That's your dream. Not mine." He smiled at you, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

You frowned, focussing yourself on pulling the buttons of his shirt so they were perfectly aligned. "Are... Are you sure? I don't know if I can do it without you."

"You'll never do anything without me, you know that." He hummed, pushing your hair out of your eyes. "If you need help, just ask. I'm right here. Always."

"I'm not an assistant anymore." You laugh. "Technically, you're kind of my assistant now." You shrug, leaning down to pull on your shoes, white with bottoms red to match your coat.

"Okay, well, I wouldn't put it like that..." He laughs, shaking his head at you and holding out a hand to steady you while you adjust yourself to accommodate your heels.

You take it gratefully, standing up and brushing off your coat once more with your free hand. "Be honest, Coryo, do you think the bear is too much? I feel a little like it's cheating, they don't even really have a chance. Do you get what I mean?"

"Darling," He cups your cheeks in his hands. "No one will be able to look away. That's the most important part."

"I just... I want it to be something different. Something people will still want to watch."

"Everyone will be watching." He assures you. "Now, let's get going. You have a big day ahead."

"Yes sir, Mister President."

"My name is Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, your favourite and only host of the annual Hunger Games on Capitol TV, and I have a very special treat for you all this morning before the beginning of the games." You gently remove your coat as you sit down across from Lucky, holding it out for someone to take before the cameras flit your way, though the live audience can already see you.

"For anyone who lives under a rock, this beautiful woman here with me is our lovely First Lady of Panem, and now, Head Gamemaker, Dr. Y/N Snow." He continues as your coat is taken away, and you smile across at him. "Thank you so much for squeezing us into your very busy schedule. Now, how are you feeling about today, Miss Snow?"

"Doctor is fine." You correct him politely, to which he utters a quick apology. "And I am feeling very good about my first games. Dr. Gaul left some big shoes to fill, but I've been working with her for years so I have some really exciting ideas that I just can't wait for the world to see."

"Yes! I'm certain you do." Lucky grins. "Now, I don't know how much of our audience will remember this, but the first time we met was during the tenth games, I was hosting for the first time and you and your husband were both mentors! Just young academy students with some big dreams, isn't that right?"

You laugh, nodding as he speaks and letting the cheers die down. "Yes, I remember that. All of us were kind of getting a feel for how things would work, and my husband was actually the one who came up with the ideas of betting and sponsorships. He has truly always been such a leader, and so smart. He was the one who asked Dr. Gaul if I could help him with his mentorship, and she agreed, and then she just really loved how well we worked together so she kept us around to study under her all these years. It has been such a fun and kind of... fulfilling journey for us both."

"And now, here you are." He nods at you.

"Here I am." You echo it back to him, waiting for another question.

"Now, we have to address what can only be described as the elephant in the room..." He starts, and you try and hide your confused look as you straighten your posture. If there was some kind of problem you should have been made aware before you set foot on stage. "That summer, after your mentorship. Tell us. What happened? Both of you disappeared off the face of the earth right after your success in the games, then came back with these shiny new internships under Dr. Gaul, how did you swing that?"

"Oh!" You laugh, partially relieved it wasn't about these games, but hesitant because everyone knows better than to bring up the tenth games in any sort of detail. "Well, that was the beginning of our internship with Dr. Gaul, and she wanted us to gain some life experience, so we did some touring of the Districts on our own to get to know the people of Panem better. Neither of us had ever left home before, so it was definitely a unique experience that I think was really good for both of us. It was a super secret thing, for some reason. We weren't even to tell our families."

"I see! Well, I hope you learned everything you sought out to?"

"We did." You nod. "And more."

"Okay, well, with that cleared up, tell us more about the games you have planned for us this year. Is there anything new we should be expecting?"

"Oh, definitely." You nod, smiling wide now that you can once again talk about your games. "But I wouldn't want to spoil anything, so everyone will just have to watch." You shrug.

"I don't know if you are aware of this, Dr. Snow," He leans in a little closer, smile on his face. "But one new thing that we know for sure is changing this year, is that the president, your husband, has made it mandatory to watch the games. Not just here in the Capitol, but everywhere in the Districts as well. He made an announcement just this morning, he wants everyone to see what you've worked so hard for."

"Aw." You blush, pressing your hands to your chest. "That's so sweet! No, I didn't know that." The audience eats up your reaction, and you try to keep your eyes on him instead of acknowledging all the clapping and shouts from below you.

"Well, that's just about the cutest surprise! He has a lot of confidence in you." He laughs, reaching over and patting your leg. "You've all heard it here, he's just as good a husband as he is a president!"

"It's true." You agree, hardly audible over the crowds enthusiasm.

"Speaking of your husband..." He says, turning back to look into the wing of the stage and nodding at someone. "He set us up with a little surprise for you, if you don't mind."

"Oh, please." You laugh, covering your face as your cheeks heat up. "Of course he did." You shake your head, whistles from the audience not helping your blush.

"Okay, you can look now. Don't hide!" Lucky laughs, and you lower your hands from in front of your face to be presented with a bouquet of white and red roses. It wasn't an extravagant gift from him, the amount of roses he has gifted to you since your return from Twelve together is astronomical by now, but it's a gesture you cherish nonetheless. You smile as you take them.

"Beautiful, as always." You grin, making a point of smelling them before handing them back to the assistant who's waiting with a vase for them.

"And we have one more thing here, I believe..." He hums, looking back again while you're distracted passing off the wrapped flowers.

When you turn back to look at him you gasp, hands flying up to cover your mouth, fearless of whether or not you would smudge your lipstick. "Is that for me?" You ask, voice higher in octave from the excitement as one of the stagehands walks out with a small dog, fur dyed a soft shade of red with a matching bow around its neck.

"Indeed it is!" Lucky laughs as you're handed the puppy.

"Oh my god..." You smile, tears brimming in your eyes. "Hi there..."

"I think there's a note for you there too..." Lucky urges you and you grab the tag tied onto the bow. "Mind reading it for us?" He says, holding his handkerchief out to you.

"Thank you," You laugh, dabbing under your eyes with your free hand. "A new assistant to match your shoes." You read, laughing at the inside joke.

Everyone laughs, and you get from Lucky's confused expression that you should explain. "Uh, working under Dr. Gaul we would always joke that he was my assistant and vice versa." You laugh, wiping your eyes again before you continue. "I am so proud of you. Finally, the world will see you as I do. Intelligent, strong, and beautiful. Unstoppable. That's why I love you, you're as pure as the driven Snow."

The audience awe's, but you know none of them get it the way you do. "Another inside joke." You nod at Lucky, trying to hold back from crying so much you turn into a mess.

"I stand corrected. That is the cutest surprise." He points to the dog in your lap. "Both literally and figuratively."

"I don't know what I'll do with it." You laugh, shaking your head as the puppy jumps up against your chest, trying to lick your face.

"How about a name, to start?" Lucky prompts you.

"Oh, gosh. Well..." You giggle, lifting it and setting it back down so it will sit in your lap. It's so small, hardly bigger than your hands. It'll likely never grow larger than your lap. It's perfect. "What about Lucky?" You tease.

"Oh, you flatter me, Y/N. Come on, something better."

"I don't know!" You laugh. "I'm not good at naming... things."

Lucky laughs. "Our Head Gamemaker with no ideas? That seems unlikely."

"Okay, okay. You're just putting me on the spot here, I'm a little nervous." You laugh, stroking over the dog's head. "I tell you what, before the games begin this morning I'll come up with twelve names, assign them randomly to the districts, then whoever shall win the games will determine the name of my dog. Does that sound fair?"

"Ah! That's brilliant!" Lucky laughs, clapping his hands together. "And that's a good incentive for anyone who hasn't yet placed their bets or sent in donations for the tributes! Your donation may just be what gives the First Lady's dog its name. How fun!"

"It'll be interesting." You giggle, looking down at the puppy in your lap. It must have been white before the dye, it took so well. Maybe it will fade into a pink before it grows out its natural white fur- you wouldn't want it to stay red forever, but for show, it was perfect.

"Now, we really shouldn't be taking up any more of your time. You have a busy day ahead!" Lucky says and you nod in agreement, standing up and carefully tucking the small dog under your arm. "Thank you for making time for us, I know I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store for us."

"Thank you. I really hope you all enjoy the games!" You smile, holding out a hand for him to shake which he takes quickly, then allowing you to walk off the stage.

As predicted by a certain Mister President; Coriolanus Snow, your first games as Head Gamemaker went without a hitch. They were perfect in every way. Capitol citizens were buzzing- not just about the games, the mutts you incorporated into the newly decorated arena, or the most shocking kills, but also about your dog. The people loved her, and so did you. She hardly ever left your lap or your side for the duration of the games, which only lasted a matter of days.

The party your husband threw for you at the presidential palace, your home, at the end of the games was extravagant. Coryo couldn't help but broadcast his pride to all of the Capitol. He loved you; you were his, and he needed everyone to know. Not a soul in all the world was anywhere close to being on your level, and shaping you into the perfect wife and First Lady was what Coriolanus Snow considered his greatest achievement. As you stood next to him, his palm tucked neatly against your lower back, you were perfect. More perfect than you were the day you fought for a spot in the mentorships that he granted you, more perfect than the he first time he kissed you, and more perfect than both of the days he had killed someone for you. Without question, he would do it all again if it meant he would get to hold you even just one more time.

"I'm so proud of you, Love." He gently rubs your back, looking down at you while you overlook your garden from the patio off of your bedroom.

You smile, standing up on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Snow lands on top." You whisper, biting your lip when you see a shift behind his eyes.

"You bet we do." He hums with a smug smile, lifting you up and carrying you back inside.

And somewhere, thousands of miles away in the Northern shambles of a still recovering District Thirteen, while you and your husband are celebrating, Sejanus Plinth and Lucy Gray Baird share knowing, sorrowful glances when it's announced on the crackling radio that the winner of the Seventeenth Annual Hunger Games was a boy from District Two, and because of this, the First Lady of Panem's dog shall be called Sage.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

taglist is closed for coryo unfortunately, but my requests for him are open!! so send me all your suggestions!! requests here!!

#tbosas #coriolanus snow #hunger games #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coryo snow

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denim-devil · 6 months

Note

Mike Schmidt x male reader pleaseee. Begging him to go to work with him, only to end up blowing him under the desk and maybe getting bent over by him🤭

•.* Sugar | M.S •.*

Summary - Just one night you promised, knowing the dangers, Mike put rules in place to make sure you were constantly monitored, he should of know why you had asked to join him…

A/N - I’m fucking obsessed with this man, like he could defile me in ANY WAY POSSIBLE and i’d thank him, please enjoy me spiralling for this man- (ALSO NOT PROOF READ)

“Please?”

You almost began to beg, gripping onto his baggy grey hoodie which captured the slight annoyance written against his features, the constant tugging on his sleeve resembled a hyperactive child but it had Mike question just how far you would go with the begging.

“Why? Why do you wanna go so bad- it’s a rundown shit hole”

He mumbles gruffly, hazel eyes darting down to meet with your own, trapped within a everlasting battle of a shared gaze, his eyebrows furrowing when finger tips graze just above his groin.

“I just wanna keep you company…is that such a bad thing?” Your words were a mere whisper, goosebumps now present over his cloth-covered skin, could he be so harsh to deny you? You were the only source of his happiness, just one night wouldn’t be so bad right?

He sighs, eyes shutting as he groans once you go lower, massaging the spot next to his growing ache. You had a way with not only words but it always seemed to work, each touch, each blink you gave had your lashes flick ethereally.

“Fine- but you better stay in the office, by my side at all times, you don’t know what’s lurking in the dark there”

An eager “yes” escapes your parted lips and it warmed his heart, that certain fuzzy feeling that left him daft and in love lingered and he couldn’t help but pull you into him, it had taken time to get to this point, especially for Mike, you had opened so many doors for him, his arms squeezed you close against him, lips placing a soft, chaste kiss to your temple in silence.

“Thank you Mikey, I appreciate it…”

He smiles with certainty downwards, his hold had loosened now but just enough so he could see how your cheeks grew with scarlet blossom, how timid you had gotten underneath his stare.

“Anytime…”

Knowing how easy it was to get underneath his skin like a blue beetle had a certain grip on you, thoughts about making it worth his time had riddled your brain, confusing both kindness and lust all in one.

Mike had his own ideas to pass the time, yet they were still for you to uncover.

• • • •

The night was quiet.

Mike questioned the silence at points, it was unusual for the place to stand still, slightly ominous in it’s restlessness, in it’s abandonment.

“So…is this what the job is?? To sit and watch camera’s?”

You sassily remark, eager to get a reaction from him, his office chair swirled as he span slowly, eventually facing your slumped frame, his eyes scanned your body from head to toe, slightly annoyed that you weren’t taking this seriously.

“No, I do actually have to check around, see if anything or anyone gets in, hence this-“

He poked the heavy golden badge latched onto his attire, just above the bold letters “security”. You couldn’t stop the laugh that rattled from the base of your chest, glancing over the cutesy child’s toy.

Mike’s brows furrowed, slightly confused but he understood, it was slightly silly, what else was he going to do with his time here? Sit in the same chair for six hours straight whilst going slightly insane?

“Really Mike? Where did you even get that?”

He glared with a certain tone, almost studying you.

“I found it out back…with everything else”

Interest spiked within you like the love you had for Mike. You reach over, hands gripping onto the warmed arm rests of his chair, pulling him closer until your lips were mere inches apart.

“I admire your bravery…”

His breath was sharp, taking in what he could before he dipped slightly, latching his own onto yours, the kiss was slow, played with the imaginary heart strings you conjured up in your head, a professional guitarist lingering the tips of his fingers amongst them, twanging each one as he pushed for it, pushed for more.

He pulls away, just enough to break it, break you out of it. The office was cold, the concrete checkered floor doing nothing to secure the heat in, Mike was your only source, not that you were complaining.

“Why did you ask to come tonight?”

In all honesty, you had nothing in your roster to fight back with, instead, a wandering hand of your own timidly trails down his denim clad thigh, rubbing the area earning a soft grunt, one he tried holding back.

“I’m not sure…but I can show you-“

That drew Mike’s attention back to your face, his lips slightly agape, jaw slack when you gravely reach for the spot you grew quickly acquainted with.

It was a surprise…he was already half hard, almost bursting at the seems once the continuous rubbing began, your palm was a source of comfort and desire for him.

“Yeah?…”

Mike still questioned himself, he shouldn’t really be distracted on the job, he had so much to uncover but the stress, god, it riddled every muscle and organ he had, he ached for it, yearned for something warm and wet.

“Is this okay, Mikey?”

He nods, almost to eager for it, you understood though, kicking your own chair behind you whilst lowering yourself, knees folding once you hit the hard floor with ease, it wasn’t the first time.

His eyes bore holes into you, like a scorching fire, they glowed with uncertainty and lust which served as a hard time, you weren’t entirely sure if Mike really wanted this.

Laying your head against his thigh, your hands slowly figure out the zipper, tugging the small piece of metal down before fingertips dig into the small opening created, pushing the thin material of his white briefs, unveiling the very source of your own impulse.

Glaring with both anticipation and admiration your eyes flicker, darting from certain points of his thick cock, his head a deep crimson, tints of purple like it had lacked something, a singular vein ran thickly on the underside from base to tip, it stood tall and proud, it always had and will for you.

The view you would never ever get use to, he always surprised you, how could it be both so beautiful and…big.

“Think you could help me out baby-“

The question lingered in the air for sometime whilst you hands began to work over him, both fists enclosed over it, jerking back and forth, watching excess skin slip back and forth, uncovering the tip once again.

“Yes Mikey- fuck, look at you…”

A few more wrist flicks you give, just to get him there, just to allow him to taste it in the air, to taste just what your about to do.

Your Eager lips wrap sultry around his pre-slicked head, engulfing the first two inches whilst using a hand to massage the rest, the other fondling the heavy sack just below, thumbing the spot between both testicles.

“Fuck- I gotta, we can’t be-“

He groaned before restless hands ran through your hair before resting at the base of your neck, pushing you down, this was now beyond your control, you were his to use, freely.

The last few inches slip inside, past the corners of your stretched lips and into the back of your throat, there the tip lingered and the heaviness on your tongue grew, chin resting lightly against his balls.

That’s when you choked and gagged, a thick layer of saliva trickling from the corners of your occupied mouth, gathering at the base, joining the thin layer of brunette hair.

The man above you groaned so loudly that it rattled the thin walls of the room. You could feel a gush of fluid dripping out of your throbbing cock which began to seep into the denim of your trousers, Mike was to busy rolling his hips into your throat to focus on anything else but his release, you wanted him to know just how much this got you to.

With a loud slurp and pop, you sucked and lapped the head of Mike’s aching cock, you wrap an eager hand around his length, squeezing and pumping as you mouth at his balls, slurping them both into your mouth and licking the underside.

“Baby- fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close”

Mike gripped at your now matted hair, forcing you back into his length, pushing you down as far as possible until he settle himself fully down your throat, watching as you begin to struggle, choking and sputtering for air.

His eyes focus on the tears slipping from your damp lids. Watched the copious amounts of saliva drip and leak from his balls and chair to the floor, you proved to be a mess and it had his insides churning and his cock jump and twitch.

“Baby-“

He came with a shout, hands still buried in the thickness of your hair, holding you there, making sure to take every single drop, in which you do, before proceeding to suck him dry, pull off with a hungered gasp.

The point yet again was proven, Mike needed you by his side constantly, the time flew and if anything, the stress seemed to subside, replaced with a certain lightness he compared to bliss.

You tuck him away, secreting the mess within his briefs before scrambling up into his lap, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. He held you for a while, kissing softly at your ear.

The ache, the one from before hadn’t really fully disappeared and he felt guilty, yet he wanted more, craved more, this was nice and all, he loved this usually but…he wanted more of you.

Wiggling slightly earns a rumble of a grunt, he still wasn’t ready to leave this office, not until he had his fair share.

“Mikey…”

You trail off, feeling him grow harder by the second, it hadn’t even been ten minutes, what have you gotten yourself into?

“Why don’t you get undressed and bend over my desk, all pretty for me baby, I gotta have you…”

#male reader #x male reader #fnaf #mike schmidt #smut #fluff #MIKE IS A BIG BOY #like-#HELP #he can rearrange my guts DAILY

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norrisleclercf1 · 9 months

Note

Can you do best friend reader staying at landos but she gets her period in the night?

Anon 2: a blurb where the reader is cramping really bad and lando is just trying to make her feel better

A/N: I got both of these back to back so I'mma just combine them

You had felt sick during the dinner, trying to ignore the pain in your joints and back. It's odd, it had been happening all day. Swallowing down some pain killers and wanting to eat nothing but salty carbs.

It couldn't possibly be your period as you weren't supposed to start for another 2 weeks, maybe your PMS. Which is how you talk yourself down when you get the nervous sweats.

Lando was aware of your internal thoughts, you kept getting this far away look and moving around every so often. He keeps quiet not wanting to embarrass you, even after years of being friends.

"Let's head to bed yeah? You can take a shower, use all the hot water if you want." Jumping up, he kisses the top of your head and walking around his place locking up.

You move to the shower, turning it on, you add the steam setting. Lando hears the door open and then close, as he walks into the bedroom. Digging through his closest he finds your favorite shirt of his and some of his boxers, loose clothing to help whatever is going on.

He'd never tell you, but he synced your calendar with his. You travel with him a lot to races, always wanting you to have everything and be comfortable. So checking his phone, he's left confused as your getting symptoms way to earlier.

Sneaking into the bathroom, he doesn't look at you as he lays the clothes on the counter and backs out quickly. Laying on bed, he starts some crappy cheesy romance movie knowing it'll help you feel better.

Creeping out of the bathroom, you and Lando look at one another. Without a question he pulls the covers back and opens his arms. It's such a small thing but with how you're feeling it means the world.

"Come here." His voice soft, as you crawl into the bed and snuggle into his side. It doesn't take you long for you to fall asleep, but he stays awake, making sure you're comfortable.

Thirsty, Lando slides out of the bed to get something to drink. At the loss of contact you whimper, but pain explodes in your lower abdomen. As quickly as it came, it leaves.

Tiptoeing back into the room he moves the covers, but stops seeing a large spot on his bed. "Fuck, oh love." He whispers. "Y/n...wake up." Whining you wake, Lando telling you to go to the bathroom and look under his sink.

Confused and tired, you do as he says. He quickly swipes everything off the bed, throwing it in the laundry. Rushing around he lays down new sheets, and grabs a new pair of boxers for you.

In the bathroom you freeze, feeling that all to familiar feeling. "No, no, oh please no." Embarrassment gripping your throat, sliding the boxers off you see why Lando woke you.

"Shit." You curse, looking under the sink you see your favorite products, Lando having taken pictures when you once went together to get some. "Y/n, these are for you." Lando cracks the door open and lays the fresh pair on the sink for you.

"Thank you." You choke, trying hard not to cry. Cleaning yourself up, Lando stops, just finished in putting the new sheets on the bed something you notice. "Did I bleed on the bed?" Lando shakes his head fast, denying it quickly.

"Nope, I figured new sheets will help you feel better. Are you okay?" Worry fills his eyes, when he sees you wince. "Cramps." Is all you can say, sighing he helps you into bed. "I'll be back." He rushes down the hallway, coming back with a large heating pad.

You try to help, but he doesn't let you getting you comfortable placing it on your waist, tucking you in. He joins you in the bed, pulling you close his fingers dip under your/his shirt. "What are you-" "Something that my sister taught me, says it helps." His fingers gently push and prod right above your area.

Instantly your cramps settle, as he gets comfortable fingers just moving around. "Thanks." He smiles, laying his head on your shoulder. "We're friends, Y/n. I'm always here." He whispers.

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 scenario #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #bestfriend!lando #f1 fluff #f1 blurb

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 2 months

Note

I’m loving so much the new disowned verse omg, it is so good, you are a genius.

But I’m curious, how did reader and jason met?

The apartment was in a cracker box of a building with thin walls. His neighbors were a young couple that fought about money 25/8 and an elderly 'Nam Vet who liked his porno but- he could cope.

It was different than Gotham. There weren't constant gunshots. And that was weird. But. He knew better than to think his PI license wouldn't make him some money. Even out in the sticks. There was always a contentious divorce. There was always something not quite right. Cops in over their heads.

And he'd have down time. He could read. Work on his bike. Fuck. Maybe even actually go see a movie... Sure. He knew eventually he'd get bored but. For now, he was looking forward to it.

He shut the door and locked it behind him, frowning just slightly and making a note to get a better lock while he was out. He doubted he could find anything super great in town- he'd probably have to order something but. He'd passed a hardware store in town so... it might be worth checking out. If he made friends with the old guy that probably ran it he could probably get some special orders if he needed it.

So he set off that direction, wandering on foot down the sidewalks and taking note of the other houses. It was the middle of the afternoon. And the lunch whistles at the old factory still sounded at nood and then 30 minutes later. Tucked away from the tree-lined main drag, the houses back here varied from run down to better homes and gardens.

That tracked.

They got better closer to the front. The older show homes outweighed the eyesores. American primitive lawn decor. A surprising number of pineapples- and he snorted, wondering if it had come from a big box store or if it was a signal. Or both.

Still.

By the time he made it to the hardware store, he was reasonably certain he could stay busy. All was not as Leave it to Beaver as the Town Council would have you believe. And the first place he was gonna leave a flyer was in the beauty shop. Those old biddies HAD to have some shit to stir up.

He shouldered the door open and a bell, an actual bell, chimed. And he smiled a little taking a deep breath. The smell of dust, tools, and old well-maintained wood hit his nose and he exhaled. Definitely not going to find any high tech locks here. But, he had a soft spot for independent shops.

"Be with you in a minute!"

The voice made him jump. Not the gruff voice of a grumpy old fuck he expected. And it made him search of the source. Curious. "No worries," he said, walking a little farther towards where he'd heard it. Finding a young woman on a ladder stocking some boxes of bolts on a shelf. A pink canvas gardening apron tied around her hips to hold more boxes. "You got door locks?" he asked.

"Aisle 5 next to the paver catalogs," you tell him, steadying yourself so you can turn and glance down at him.

"Perfect," he said, "Thanks."

"Mhm, let me know if you need anything else," you tell him.

Jason paused and looked around, "Think you can put a tool box together for me I just moved and-"

"Ah, yeah. One Bachelor special," you tell him," Jumping down from the ladder, "I think I can get you fixed up. At least enough to get you started. You'll be smashing your thumbs in no time."

"Got a first aid kit too?"

"Right up at the counter," you snort. "But if you want anything special, you gotta see Adam at the Pharmacy. Mine are pretty basic."

"I can deal with basic- at least until you sell me a band saw-"

"Oh lord."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #disowned!verse

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magicalbats · 6 months

Text

Flesh-Devouring Part 4

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 25,488

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, some mild violence/blood, a big fat serving of angst, cunnilingus, blowjobs, light bondage, nipple clamps, piv sex, creampie, spanking

A/N: The final part is here! Sorry for the long wait, but I hope the climax ends up being well worth the journey and everyone enjoys what I cooked for these two! I had a lot of fun writing this short series, maybe I'll get to do another in the future!

Header credit goes to the oh so lovely @jymwahuwu💕

⭐

You liked Sigewinne. Really, you did. But the way she looks at you is always a little strange, her gaze lingering on a spot about two centimeters from the center of your face rather than your eyes, and you’re never quite sure what to make of it.

The first few times Wriothesley steered you down to the infirmary — for “safe keeping” while he tended to other matters, or so he’d said — you’d been so convinced that there was something on your cheek that you had quickly excused yourself from her in hot faced embarrassment, but there wasn’t ever anything there when you would check. It was certainly odd, but you’d realized soon enough that it was better just to pretend like you didn’t notice it.

While that was certainly easier said than done she was still sweet, and you liked the Melusines. You didn’t want to make her feel bad, thinking perhaps she couldn’t help it, but especially not when you had neither the interest nor the right to judge anyone else for their little quirks or oddities, least of all over something as benign as this.

The exceedingly strange things she would say to you from time to time were another matter entirely, though.

“Your facial muscles really are very interesting, you know. I quite enjoy getting to observe them like this.” She tells you, perfectly polite and innocent as she hands you a small plate of cookies. Trying very hard not to squirm under those big, doe-like eyes, you hesitantly accept it with a soft word of thanks.

You didn’t have the slightest clue what to make of that, but if she notices your uncertainty she doesn’t show it.

“The first time we met I couldn’t help but notice that there was some tension in the way you would hold yourself. Almost like you were always on the defensive, or anticipating a fight of some kind.” Hopping up into the chair beside you, Sigewinne pulls one of those god awful milkshakes she’d once made for you closer to herself so she can cradle it between her daintily gloved hands. “But now you look really rather relaxed and even happy! I’m so glad you’re feeling more at ease now.”

“Thank you, miss Sigewinne. That’s very kind of you to say.” It takes a great deal of effort to keep your voice steady, and an even greater effort to stay seated instead of bolting from the room in a flustered panic. Relaxed and at ease was certainly one way to put it … ever since the fundraiser ball two nights prior, you’d felt like you were floating on a soft little cloud everywhere you went and you didn’t have to be a genius to figure out why.

It was love, wasn’t it?

“I hope this doesn’t come out the wrong way, but I think you look so incredibly beautiful now. Almost like you’re glowing.”

You cautiously inch your gaze up to peek over at her from the corner of your eye. Glowing? You’d always heard rumors that the Melusine’s perceive the world a bit differently than humans do and you had no idea what she was seeing in that moment when she looked at you, but it makes you flush all the same. Dammit, Wriothesley, how long was this going to take? You weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to keep your reactions in check.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you but you always look very fresh and dewy faced as well, miss Sigewinne. I hope you’ll share your beauty secrets with me one day?”

She seems quite pleased to hear that, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, and you quickly bring your cup of coffee up to sip, glad for the ready distraction.

“Oh, there’s not much to share, I’m afraid. Just a bit of cream before bed and cold water in the morning to chase away any puffiness is really all it takes. I’d ask for your secrets and tips, but I unfortunately don’t have any gentlemen friends to help me with the application.”

You choke on your coffee with a violent lurch, very nearly dumping the whole mug all over the counter in your haste to set it down. Whipping your head around, you just gape at her in barefaced disbelief but she only smiles that perfectly innocent smile again.

“Don’t worry, miss. Your secret is safe with me.” Sigewinne assures you, passing a handkerchief into your lax fingers. “I’m just glad you and his grace are getting along so well. He seems rather relaxed recently too, doesn’t he? Oh, that reminds me!”

Left reeling like a stray buoy lost out at sea, helplessly carried off by the tumultuous, stormy waves, you numbly watch her dig back into the pocket of her apron for a brief moment. Idly, perhaps even a bit hysterically, you wonder what other secrets she’s got hidden away in there.

“As it turns out, I actually have a gift for you today! I do hope you’ll like it.”

You sincerely hope it’s not another of her desolate tasting concoctions as you turn your shell shocked attention down at the hand she sticks out toward you. Genuine surprise promptly rushes into the forefront of your mind though when you realize she’s holding a … small tube?

“Is this lipstick?” You venture as you cautiously take the petite, gold burnished item from her.

“Yes, it is. I think that color will look lovely on you and really compliment your complexion. His grace is quite fond of the color red, you know.”

You nearly drop the damned thing at the startle that races up your arm. “Miss Sigewinne, please! Although I appreciate your thoughtfulness in gifting me such a thing, I really don’t think …”

The long, upright ears atop her head give a sudden twitch that makes you trail off, and then you hear it too just half a second later. A hurried rush of footsteps coming down the hall. Heartbeat quickening, you stiffly find your feet in time to watch a young inmate come stumbling into the infirmary with wide, nervous eyes that quickly dart around to take in the room.

“Has anyone seen his grace recently?” He stammers between out of breath gasps. “We, um, we have a bit of a situation out there.”

Your stomach drops like a lead weight. Then, before you even realize you’ve already made the decision to do so, you’re lurching into motion. “What’s going on?”

“Oh! Uh, well, on the central platform - -“

“Wait!” Sigewinne yelps behind you, but it’s too late. Your legs are already carrying you past him, out the door and down the hall, boots smacking against the metal plated flooring.

You didn’t even really understand it yourself, this sudden choking feeling of dread that makes your throat almost cinch shut to leave you struggling to pull in enough air long before you should have run out of stamina. All you could think about was George. Seeing the way his wrist had been engulfed by a much bigger hand when it flashes across your mind, again and again on a continuous loop. How easily it had snapped.

The sound.

You did not want Wriothesley to get involved if you could help it. That was the one and only thing you knew with any certainty.

You hear the commotion as soon as you reach the end of the hall, just in the near distance. It sounded like a brawl. Leaping down the metal staircase with your heart lodged in your throat, you dash towards the noise headlong — not sure what you were going to do, if you could even do anything — but the sight you come up to pulls you short a few yards away.

There were already guards working to pull the mess of prisoners off of one another. That was a good sign. The Clockwork Meka in the area were also making their way over, a few already subduing some of the inmates that were standing on the outskirts of the greater commotion in the center. An even better sign.

And in all of the chaos Wriothesley’s tall, unmistakable silhouette was nowhere to be found. It was the best sign of all.

Haltingly stiff, you force yourself to draw oxygen into your constricting lungs and take a cautious step closer. You scan the discordant scene, trying to figure out what was even happening or if there was something you could do to help when a starburst of red abruptly catches your attention amidst the shouting and flailing bodies. It’s all over the floor. A few of the prisoners in the center are stained with it. The distant, numb chill of a vertigo-inducing free fall grips you all at once. You see it when the meka separate the two men who seem to have been at the epicenter of it. The knife.

“What are you doing here?”

A blocky hand closes around your elbow from behind and roughly yanks you back a step. You don’t need to look to know who it is, but you still find your neck slowly craning back anyway. Wriothesley’s dark brows are pinched in what you think is probably anger, but you try to tell yourself it’s just concern. He never got angry with you. Not truly. Not like this.

“There’s a fight.” It’s the only thing you can think to say.

“I can see that, but that doesn’t answer my question.” He practically hisses at you. Giving your arm a tight squeeze that stops just short of pain, he leans over you to bring his face close and he drops the volume of his voice so that only you can hear. “We will discuss this later. I want you to go back to my office and wait for me there while I take care of this mess, do you understand me?”

“I can help - -“

“No, you cannot. I’m not going to tell you again. Now do as I say. Quickly.”

You stir slightly from your dumbfounded shock. “Do not take that tone with me, your grace. You can’t shield me from this forever! If I am to be with you then - -“

The sharp twist he gives your elbow startles a hurt little gasp out of you, and he uses that moment of stunned shock to get right on top of you now. “So help me if you speak one more word instead of heeding my orders, I promise you will not like how this ends. Get yourself to my office. Now!”

You can’t help the way you cower from him, wrenching back in his hold with wide, frightened eyes that almost seem to look right through him in that moment. He lets you go, thankfully, and you stumble a step as he turns with a quick pivot of his heel. Wriothesley doesn’t even look back at you once as he purposefully strides towards the chaos, and the mess of limbs and bodies, the Clockwork Meka, and the blood, and you nearly trip over your own feet when you back up another pace. You hear Sigewinne calling out somewhere behind you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they can by the sound of it, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and look at her. Not when it felt like you were seconds away from shattering like a fragile piece of glass that had been mercilessly dashed against the wall.

Suddenly feeling blind and numb to everything going on around you, you make a run for it. Your legs carry you without any input from your brain telling them where to go. The only thought going through your mind now is that you had to get away. Couldn’t let anyone see you break. You knew you would. It was only a matter of when, not if.

If you could get behind the safety of closed doors where you could cry your eyes out in peace without the shame of anyone watching to hang over your head.

If you could find the peace and quiet of seclusion in time, or if someone would spot you, stop you, and bear witness to your humiliation first.

If you could keep it together just long enough to find a nice dark hole to crawl into so you could curl up and die alone.

And somehow you’re not the least bit surprised that your legs obediently take you straight to Wriothesley’s office, just as he’d commanded.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re not sure how much time you’ve spent just sitting in the dark, pitifully weeping until there was nothing left for you to cry, when you hear Wriothesley come in through the door. You don’t look up from your spot huddled in a tight ball on the chair behind his desk but you figured you probably didn’t need to anyway. He was likely still mad at you, given the way he’d parted from you earlier, and even if he wasn’t you were still mad at him.

Truthfully you didn’t even want to be in the same room with him right now, but you’d been too scared of what would happen if he returned to his office and found it empty to get up and leave. You’d thought about it many times over the last minutes, hours, days, months — however long you’d sat here in your misery, hating everything but most of all hating him.

He’d never once raised his voice at you like that.

The sound of his boots on the floor ratchets the exhausted tension thrumming through your body, but his footsteps are slow. Weary, as he makes his way over to stand next to the desk. You feel a brief spark of concern for him, wondering if he’d been hurt, but the thought quickly fades. It would serve him right, you think.

Resounding silence seems to stretch on for an eternity in which neither of you moves or speaks. It doesn’t even sound like either one of you is breathing at all. Then, at length, he finally draws a carefully controlled inhale.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, little miss?”

“Do not call me that.”

A terse pause.

“Are we back to that again?”

You squeeze your fists hard enough to hurt where they’re wrapped around your knees, hating the press of the lipstick Sigewinne had given you in your palm. You wouldn’t be needing it any longer. She could have it back.

“Yes, your grace.” You rattle out, your voice hoarse and thin, but slowly gaining strength the more you talk. “I must apologize for the lack of foresight on my part, but it has just occurred to me that I seem to have made a very big mistake. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may cause you, but I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

“Inconvenience?” Scoffing, Wriothesley appears to stir from his own fatigue, and he moves to turn on the lamp. You wince against the sudden wash of light across your burning, aching eyes, but still you refuse to look at him when he continues on. “Don’t be silly. You know it’s much more than that. If you want me to apologize for snapping at you earlier I’ll gladly do it.”

“I don’t want anything from you, your grace.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You insist, hissing now. “You have — you’ve been nothing but a blockheaded, rocks for brains oaf the entire time I’ve known you and I’m not sure what came over me for my common sense to falter this badly, but I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of you! It’s obvious you think so little of me that you see me as more of a pet than a person, and I’m finished with it!”

“I think no such thing.” Wriothesley volleys right back, perfectly calm now and still standing next to the lamp, but it just makes you even angrier. Everything about him was suddenly making you so damn mad.

This room that was so resoundingly his, the smell of him everywhere and mixed with the distantly comforting, lingering aroma of brewed tea. The weight of his presence here with you and the memories you’d shared within these walls, both the good and the bad. His voice, always so reasonable and even, except … except when it hadn’t been. You couldn’t seem to erase the way he’d sounded out on the platform from your mind. He’d scared you, hadn’t he? And that infuriated you. In fact you had half a mind to chuck the lipstick in your hand right at his stupid, smug face but you refrain for the simple fact that you didn’t want to tempt fate like that again.

He’d trained you well, evidently, but your bitter feelings only grow at the thought.

“I know you’re unhappy with me right now,” He finally says when you neither move nor speak. “And I can’t exactly fault you for that, but at least hear me out first before you start calling an end to everything. You know I don’t want to see you go. I would rather die than let that happen.”

You choke on a vindictive laugh. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you yelled at me in my face like that. You had no right! Despite how you so often treat me, I am not a child for you to boss around and bully into submission!”

“You’re wrong about that.” He says, so reasonable and sincere that it finally startles your head up. Did he seriously have the gall to - - “This is my fortress and I make the rules here. We’ve been over this before. I’m in my right to do whatever I please, whenever the mood so strikes me. You know that. Not once have I ever led you to believe any different. Not even when I’ve had you wrapped around me begging to get you off have I ever changed that narrative.”

“Do not bring that up right now!” You quake. “And you said - -“

“I said you had the power in our relationship because I wanted you to have it. If I’d really felt so compelled to force myself on you and take you without any concern for your feelings on the matter, I could have easily done that at any point. And as long as I did it here, in my fortress, there isn’t much you could have done about it. Even if you’d run straight to The Steambird or right into Neuvillette’s no doubt sympathetic arms, I likely would have just gotten a slap on the wrist for it and nothing more. Do not mistake my kindness for something it’s not.”

“Kindness! Is that what you call it?” You’re suddenly on your feet, staring him down across the desk. Your entire body shakes with it, this overwhelming desire to reach out and slap him. Claw at him. Just really, really hurt him. “Well, isn’t that just a wonderful note to end this ridiculous farce on! Was this all just sport for you then? A meaningless way for you to pass your abundance of free time? I knew you had a selfish streak, your grace, but I didn’t quite realize just how deep it actually ran!”

Wriothesley frowns at that, like you’ve struck a distant nerve. “That is not what I meant and you know it. And I wouldn’t consider myself selfish for wanting to protect you.”

“Oh, here we go again! Tell me all about how much you care for me while completely steamrolling everything I say at the same time! Go on! Let’s hear it then!”

He takes a moment to breathe deep, his broad shoulders rising and falling in the gloom cast by the single lamp. “I think you need to calm down, little miss. You’ve got yourself worked up into such a fit right now that you’re just saying whatever you think is going to get under my skin, but it’s not going to work.” You suck in a sharp, venomous inhale, readying to spit vitriol at him, but he holds a hand up to stop you. “Just hold on and listen to me for a moment. Can you at least do that? I’m not going to say ‘or else’, nor do I have any mind for punishing you for the way you’re acting. I’m well aware you’re deeply unhappy with me right now and that’s understandable, but I’m sure we can talk this out.”

“What is there to even talk about at this point!”

“You nearly scared the life out of me today.”

You jerk back as if he’d physically struck you. “… what?”

For once — possibly even for the first time since you’d met him — Wriothesley is the one who lowers his gaze to look elsewhere. “This may not be what you want to hear, but try to think about it from my perspective. The last time I saw you, I’d left you with Sigewinne. I thought you were in the infirmary. When word got to me about the brawl that broke out on that floor I was under the impression you were somewhere safe, far away from any of the violence or danger. Imagine my surprise when I arrived and saw you standing there, not even twenty steps away from all that mess. I thought my heart was going to give right out. I wasn’t mad at you, little miss. I was scared for you.”

The following silence almost breaks you, and you have to force yourself to start breathing again when the ache in your chest becomes too great. “Is that supposed to make it okay?” You whisper into the suddenly fragile stillness. It felt like a pin drop would irreparably shatter everything in the room.

“No, but calling this off isn’t going to make it okay either. For what it’s worth I am sorry for yelling at you, and grabbing your arm like that. I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

With a faint start, you reach up to gingerly touch your sore elbow where he’d twisted it. The muscles were just a bit tender, possibly bruised, but still in one piece. “I’m fine.” You lie, squeezing the petite lipstick tube with your other hand. You could feel your anger at him starting to falter and you hated that. Desperately, you try to cling to it. “I’m not sure how you expect me to rationalize this. If you care for me so much and want me to be yours, then what do you expect is going to happen? Will I just be another prisoner here in your fortress? You can’t … Wriothesley, you can’t protect me from everything that goes on here. I wanted to help you. I want to help them! Someone was — someone was hurt, weren’t they?”

You sway on your feet with the rush of smothering dread that comes over you, suddenly feeling lightheaded enough to faint dead away. The blood, the knife, the tangle of bodies and limbs. It all flashes across your mind in a nauseating stream of images, but he’s standing there next to you in the time it takes you to blink. Carefully, he reaches out to steady you by the shoulders.

You let him do it because … because you’re not so sure you can steady yourself anymore.

“I was worried about this. Come on, let's get you sitting in the chair.”

“Wriothesley - -“ You mewl, weakly pushing at him, but he won’t hear it. “You always do this to me!”

“Just try to relax a little bit.” He tries to soothe you. “I’m not silencing you or brushing you off, sweetheart. We can still talk but you need to sit down before you hurt yourself. I’m not sure what I would even do if you busted your head open from hitting it on something in here.”

The note of genuine concern in his voice, so soft and hushed, is what convinces you to comply, and certainly not the mental image of you bleeding out there on his floor. It was almost enough to make you regurgitate everything in your stomach right down to the bile.

Reluctantly, you let him guide you back into the chair. He hovers over you for a moment to make sure you’re properly situated first and then, much to your gaping surprise, he sinks down on one knee to peer up at you from below. You can’t exactly hide your face like this, so you just stare at him in silent, miserable wonder.

“I want you to listen to me very carefully, pretty girl. Will you do that for me?” You offer him a brief nod, too drained to fight it anymore. Too tired to fight with him. Too sick. “Both of those men are going to be just fine. Relatively speaking, of course. I’m sure they’ll wish otherwise once I properly get my hands on them, but neither of them sustained any life threatening injuries today. No one is going to die just because you weren’t there to do anything about it.”

Your heart seems to freeze over with something you don’t recognize. Something you don’t want to recognize, and you start to pull back, too stunned to even respond. But he reaches up to clutch your wrists in his big hands and he holds you in place, preventing you from retreating.

“It’s okay. Just listen.” He goes on, not giving you a chance to throw up your walls or come up with something blithe to say. “I finally understood why you act the way you do when you told us about your father the other night. You’re a lovely girl. So clever and strong willed, and terribly, terribly passionate about everything you take on in this world. Your ideas for prison reform and rehabilitation. The way you just want the best for everyone. How you put up with me. You’re the sweetest little thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing but no matter how much you might want to, you just can’t save everyone. It simply isn’t possible. Some people don’t want to be saved. Some won’t let you save them. Others are simply a lost cause. You have to understand that on some level even if you aren’t happy about it … right?”

Wriggling one of your hands free of his hold, you reach up to furiously swipe at the tears suddenly streaming down your face. “Of course I know that, you big oaf! I’m not stupid.”

“Then tell me what you thought you were going to do back there. What was going through your head that would make you get that close to such a big fight? Huh?”

You draw a quick breath, so sure you had the answer right on the tip of your tongue, but your words fail you at the last minute. Hesitating, you slowly close your mouth and then try again. Still, it won’t come out. Suddenly you wished for the courage of your anger back.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Softly shushing you, Wriothesley smooths his thumb over the still captured wrist in his hand with sedate, comforting circles of the calloused pad. “Take your time if you need to. I’m not going anywhere.”

A threadbare, wet little laugh bursts out of you. “I’m afraid you might not like the answer, your grace …”

“That’s alright. I won’t get mad.” Bending over your lap, he presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. “I promise.”

With a great deal of effort, you manage to suck in a faltering breath and it all comes rushing out in a sudden stream. “I was worried about you. I’m not sure why, but … I kept thinking back on what happened with George. Maybe it doesn’t even make any sense. It probably doesn’t. It’s just — I was so scared that you were going to show up to put a stop to the fighting and … hurt someone in the process.”

Wriothesley lets that ruminate for a long beat, just idly toying with your hand while he seems to deliberate over something. At length, he finally speaks again. “Why does it bother you so much to think about me causing harm to others? You don’t really believe I’m above acts of violence, do you?”

“It’s not exactly that …” You tell him slowly, thinking that was a very strange way to word such a question. “It’s just hard for me to make any sense of it in my mind. The strong, handsome, sometimes annoyingly affable duke who I shared a bed with and … the frightening prison warden who can hurt people without a second thought. Where does one end and the other begin, your grace? How will I know for certain what will set you off and what won’t?”

Loosing a clipped, tired sigh, he sits back enough to pin you with an unexpectedly resigned look. “I think the two are probably a little closer to being one and the same than you even think, pretty girl.”

Your brows slowly draw inward to accompany the vague sense of dread that washes over you. “What do you mean?”

“Do you feel up to hearing a story? I’ve been meaning to tell you about this for some time now, but I’m afraid it’s a bit of an unpleasant topic …”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Listless and drained of the energy to do much of anything else, you roll over in your bed to stare up at the ceiling. It had been almost a week now since you’d shared this space with Wriothesley and somehow everything had changed so drastically in that time that you weren’t even sure if you were ever going to occupy it with him again.

His parents?

You’d never heard of anything quite so cruel and disgusting in all your life. Who in their right mind would adopt children just to turn around and sell them for profit? Disposing of those that didn’t find any buyers or the ones who learned of their deep, dark secret. Adopting more. Continuing the cycle. How many orphans had lost their lives before Wriothesley …

At first you almost hadn’t believed him. Didn’t want to believe him. It was hard to process even now when you’d spent countless hours letting it all turn over in your head without end, just trying to make sense of everything, but a kernel of truth had still rung true in his story. Maybe it was the unfaltering way he’d spoken of it, just pure and simple factuality in his voice, or perhaps it was the way he’d looked you straight in the eye while recounting the whole sordid tale. So casually he’d laid his dirty past on your lap like some gruesome little offering.

Well. If nothing else that at least finally explained why he was so unlike any other aristocrat you’d ever known. Why he didn’t seem to fit in. Why he was so rough around the edges and uncouth, and ill mannered, and rascally to the nth degree.

He was … he was actually not that much different from you.

That was almost as hard to rationalize in your mind as the fact he’d killed his parents — not without reason; even you couldn’t say he didn’t have good cause, or at least an understandable motive for doing it — but still. He’d killed not just one but two people. No wonder breaking someone’s arm had seemed like such a nonissue to him. It really wasn’t that big of a deal in comparison, relatively speaking.

“Gods, I hate this …”

Your ceiling doesn’t respond. It doesn’t offer you any comfort or advice, or even a friendly pat on the shoulder in consolation. The flat had never felt quite so resoundingly empty and lonely before, and you’re distantly aware of children playing outside in the near distant street through the window on the opposite wall. Children. His parents. Dead. Your own father, dead. Stabbed. The knife, the blood, the limbs, the bodies, the scuffle of feet on the metal floor, the - -

Lurching up off the bed, you manage to grab for the little garbage bin in the corner with just enough time to spare for you to retch into it. You were making yourself sick. All this thinking and stressing, and agonizing was catching up to you.

You couldn’t stay locked up in here another moment longer.

Quickly cleaning yourself up and getting dressed, you practically run out of your apartment just to escape the buzz in your head. It doesn’t exactly work though. Not really anyway, and you spend a very long time just walking around the city without any destination or higher thought process in mind. You weren’t even really sure where you were going when your head was such a mess of static white noise, but you do start to feel marginally better the more fresh air you breathe in and the more the sun caresses over your face.

At least it had more comfort to provide than your impartial, uncaring ceiling.

So caught up in your low mood, you almost walk right past him — the only thing registering vaguely in your peripheral is the Melusine shaped figure and the tall man standing with her — but then the soft little ‘oh’ that floats after you turns your head. You’re very surprised to suddenly find monsieur Neuvillette standing before you like that, as if it was a totally normal thing for him to be doing.

“What a pleasant surprise.” He starts to smile, small and polite, and kind, but something in your face gives him pause. The pull at his brow is so slight and minuscule that it barely even registers, but you still recognize when he looks at you in concern. “Are you alright, mademoiselle? You look as if something is troubling you.”

You start to tell him you’re fine, not to worry about it, you’re just feeling a little under the weather is all, hahaa — but then you think better of it. Something curls in the back of your mind. A memory, so close to being forgotten your fingers slip right through it the first few times you make a grab at it. What had Wriothesley said about the honorary Iudex once before …

Then it hits you.

Your heart twists, and you impulsively close the distance between you and him. “Monsieur Neuvillette, do … do you have a moment to speak with me?”

He looks a little surprised at both the close proximity as much as the tinge of sorrow in your voice but, still, he gives you a gracious nod all the same. “Of course I can spare a few minutes. Although I’m not sure how much I’ll actually be able to assist you, mademoiselle, I will make every attempt to be of help. Shall we find a bench to sit and chat?”

You jerk your head in the affirmative, already scanning the area while he says his farewells to the Melusine he’s been speaking to when you happened to pass by. This was almost suspiciously coincidental to run into him in such a way and a part of you doesn’t exactly trust it, but you were a little too desperate for answers to let any of that dissuade you. Finally spotting a street bench just down the road, you make a quick beeline for it with Neuvillette close in tow. Luckily his legs were more than long enough for him to keep up without facilitating the need to hurry.

Anxiously, you peer over at him. “Sorry for taking up your time like this, your honor. I’ll try to make it brief. It’s about Wriothesley.”

He sends you a slow, strange look. “I do hope you’ll forgive me for saying so, but I didn’t expect it to be about anything else. Has he done something to upset you?”

Somehow you actually find the grace to be embarrassed about that, and your cheeks start to grow warm. “Yes. Sort of. But not really. Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I am simply at a loss!”

Making it to the bench not a moment too soon, you half collapse onto the seat while your unexpected companion moves to get himself situated beside you, sitting a polite distance away. For a long moment you just slouch there, having no idea where to even start while city life continues to move on without you but he’s patient in a way that feels infinite and it slowly puts you at ease.

So you tell him everything.

Well, most everything. You leave out the sordid details of your sexual, oft times confusing relationship, of course, but you tell him all about what happened with George, the fight you’d had afterward, the way Wriothesley made you feel grounded and safe most days but then just the thought of him hurting someone sent you straight into a panic. You finish with the brawl at the prison, telling him both sides of the story so he knew that you weren’t the only one who’d been frightened. You’d scared Wriothesley too, and you believed it. He didn’t really have any reason to lie about that.

And although Neuvillette does look mildly uncomfortable at certain parts, he does indeed listen and he listens well. Just getting it all off your chest makes you feel worlds better, not having had anyone to talk to this entire time. But at length, after a moment of careful consideration, the Chief Justice of Fontaine finally draws a carefully tempered breath.

“I see. That is indeed quite the harrowing tale. Not that I’m particularly surprised, mind you. It seems like romance between people most often is. I’d say that’s relatively par for the course … however, I believe what makes this situation between you and mister Wriothesley so different from the norm is that neither of you are normal people.”

You can’t quite hide your reaction, but he’s quick to soothe you.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, mademoiselle. Please do not fret over my poor choice of words. What I meant to say is just that both of you are exceptional people who have lived very exceptional lives. There isn’t anything mundane about either of you.”

Was he — praising you? “Thank you, monsieur Neuvillette. That’s very kind of you to say, but - -“

“But that’s not what you wanted to hear from me, is it?” At your nod, he tips his head slightly to one side. “Do you doubt the authenticity of mister Wriothesley’s story?”

“No. I believe him. I just can’t imagine he’d ever lie about something like that and that wouldn’t even begin to explain why? What could he possibly get out of it?” Sighing wearily, you fix your attention on your hands where they’re neatly folded in your lap. You were so tired. “I suppose I just want you to tell me … is it true? What he told me his adoptive parents were doing?”

“I’m afraid so. There was a thorough investigation, of course, and the evidence was conclusive. I felt nothing but sympathy for mister Wriothesley when he stood before me in court, and even now I can’t imagine how he must have felt learning the truth or how he had to make his decision to react in the face of something so terrible.”

“And you still sentenced him to prison?”

“I did.”

A long stretch of quiet passes between the two of you, interspersed only by the darkening sky overhead that sends much of the crowd out on the street looking for cover from the sudden storm clouds overhead. Neither you nor Neuvillette were concerned about it enough to move from your bench, though.

“Do you think,” You venture at last. “If he’d made a different decision and his parents had been the ones to stand before you in court, would you have given them the same sentence?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “Worse, in fact. The number of laws they broke was substantially greater than his … two charges.”

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, turning everything over and choosing your next words carefully. “Do you think he’d kill someone again, monsieur Neuvillette?”

So slowly it’s almost eerie, he turns to look at you there on the bench. “If the need ever arose, yes. I haven’t a doubt in my mind about that. Mister Wriothesley is a truly steadfast and resolute individual. Not once did he ask me for leniency nor did he try to excuse his actions. He was well aware that he’d committed not just one but two very serious crimes and he was fully prepared to accept whatever the punishment for that might be. But he is also a very kind and gracious person as well, mademoiselle. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that. If he was anything other than the way I’ve just described I would not have fought so hard to make him the Duke of Meropide. I didn’t go to such lengths simply out of a sense of guilt or anything as sentimental as that.”

Blinking owlishly, you turn to find him giving you a very soft, almost secretive little smile.

“If you want my honest opinion on the matter,” He goes on in a gentle voice. “I believe that there is a difference between someone who is a murderer and a person who has killed. Mister Wriothesley would fit into the latter category, don’t you think? I’ve seen nothing to suggest he felt any joy in killing his parents. It was a grim task that he took upon himself, and he did so to protect his siblings as well as to stop any future children from becoming victims of the same scheme. If he hadn’t acted as he did, if he’d simply allowed them to dispose of him after learning the truth, then who can really say how many more innocent lives would have been destroyed in the interim since then? Incidentally, in regards to more present matters, I have reason to suspect that this is how he views you as well.”

You sit up a little straighter. “Me?”

“Yes, mademoiselle. I do pray you don’t misunderstand my meaning in saying this, but there is in fact a certain kind of innocence in you that I can see as well. Had I not seen it I might not have been quite so willing to introduce you to Lady Furina. She’s the same way, you know. Her heart is often in the right place, but she … ah, I suppose that isn’t really relevant right now, is it? What I mean to say is just that you are very kind and passionate when it comes to the feelings and wellbeing of others. I think mister Wriothesley wants to protect that innocence, if you’ll allow him to.”

You have to try very hard not to start blushing at that. Goodness, you hadn’t expected to have this conversation turned right back around on you like this. “T - that’s all very sweet of you to say, your honor, but … do you really think it’s feasible? If I’m going to be with him — if we were to … wed then wouldn’t it stand to reason that I would spend a great deal of my time inside the fortress? If he’s so busy trying to protect me that he won’t even let me help him when there’s a problem then is there really even any point to it? Wouldn’t I just be like a bird in a cage then?”

Thoughtfully, Neuvilette touches fingers to his chin in consideration. “I do see where your concerns lie. While I am certainly no expert on the topic, it is my understanding that such things are usually worked out and compromised between the two participating parties with the understanding that their love for one another makes such efforts worthwhile. If this is something that you want to reach an understanding with mister Wriothesley on then I suspect you will have to work together to rectify it.”

A pause.

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.” You don’t even stop to think about it.

Suddenly realizing what you’ve just said, however, you lurch forward with a strangled gasp. The quiet sound of Neuvillette chuckling beside you draws your attention around, and you just stare at him in dumbfounded silence.

“You are precious, I will certainly give you that.” He says, trying to hide his lingering smile. “I understand what mister Wriothesley sees in you, and I think you now have your answer. If your feelings for him seem like they’re worth the trouble of finding a compromise then you should go to him. Based on how you’ve described the situation, I don’t doubt that he’s waiting for you.”

You sit there, frozen for a long stretch, before decisively nodding your head. “I think you’re right. It’s worth a shot at least, isn’t it?” You start to get up but think better of it, quickly sitting back down again. “Wait. I have one more question, monsieur Neuvillette. You and lady Furina …”

Slowly, his brows lift in vague surprise. “Is that really of any importance right now?”

“No, you’re right. I’m sorry. That was rude of me, your honor.” Jumping up to your feet, you shyly turn to look at him with a nervous little smile. “Thank you for having this discussion with me. I really appreciate it. You’re a good listener.”

He offers you a polite smile back, hands lacing together atop his bent knee. “Thank you, mademoiselle. I do try. I’ve had a great many years of practice to hone the skill. And …”

“And?”

“Please do not give much thought to your last question. I’m sure Lady Furina will be happy to divulge the details of our relationship in short order. The general idea of it, at least.”

You don’t miss the edge of exasperation in his voice by a long shot, and you soon find yourself grinning from ear to ear. It was funny, wasn’t it? This outwardly serious yet soft man, and the quirky, dramatic girl seeing over all matters, big or small, in Fontaine together. They made for quite the pair in your eyes.

Was this how you and Wriothesley looked to anyone looking in from the outside?

You’re so caught up in this fluttering thought when you take your leave of Neuvillette that you almost don’t notice that the sky has cleared back up without dropping so much as a single bead of rain.

You’re so focused on trying to figure out what you should say to Wriothesley, how to apologize for all the mean things you’d said in your anger and how to work this out with him that you barely even register making your way through the city.

You’re already mentally penning your letter to him when you finally make it back to your flat and bring your head up to reach for the door — only to nearly jump right out of your skin when you find Wriothesley himself standing right there on your doorstep.

“Your grace!” You gasp in barefaced shock, making his mouth pull in a lazy, almost tentative smirk as he turns to face you there on the step.

“In the flesh. Hope you’re not too disappointed to see me.”

“I’m not disappointed at all.” You rush to say, and it surprises both of you given the way his brows lift and your heart skips a beat.

“Alright, I admit that wasn’t the reaction I was expecting … what are you up to?”

“Nothing!” You huff, in the middle of digging around in your pocket for your key. “I just thought about it some more and I think I was unfair to you. I owe you an apology, your grace.”

This time his brows take a very expeditious trip up to his hairline. “I’m sorry — do you want to run that by me again? I don’t think I quite heard you correctly.”

Floundering under that uncharacteristically wary look from him, you self consciously look elsewhere as you fumble to get the key out. Damn him for never making anything easy on you by simply reacting the way any normal man would. “Do not be like that, you scoundrel! I’m being serious here! I just … I said some very unnecessary things to you the other day, in your office. I’m truly sorry about that and I don’t actually want to call things off between us. I promise. But I think we need to have a very serious discussion about our expectations going forward. Can we do that?”

He intently studies you for a long, drawn out moment, standing there together on your stoop. You don’t even realize you’ve been holding the key this whole time, half poised to click into the door, until he reaches out and gently takes it from you.

“Of course we can, little miss. We can talk about it as much as you’d like.”

You’d expected to feel relief at that but, watching him get the front door unlocked and opened, you actually start to feel sick with nerves again. You were a little too strung out from spending almost three days cooped up inside your flat and agonizing over the situation. Abruptly, you realize that you aren’t even sure when you’d last ate something was. Had you thrown up anything of substance earlier, or just bile?

Wriothesley’s hand sliding across the small of your back makes you feel marginally better though, and you let him guide you into the apartment. He locks the door behind him as he always does, evidently not wholly trusting your neighborhood, and then steers you over to the loveseat against the far wall.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“No. Just sit with me.” You murmur, tugging him down to join you.

The brush of his thigh against your leg brings you a certain amount of comfort too, you’re a bit surprised to find. You’d thought for sure you wouldn’t have been able to look at him ever again without feeling fear and revulsion after learning of his past, irreparably dooming your relationship forever, but that is not what happens. Instead you feel yourself warming to him and it does wonders to soften the tense, almost awkward atmosphere between the two of you. But, still, it’s a little hard to figure out what to say when you’d been expecting to have to write him first, or make the trip out to Meropide to see him. You’d expected to have the time to plan and script out what you wanted to say, how you wanted to say it. This was so unexpectedly sudden that for a moment you just flounder.

“Were you waiting long?”

“No, only a few minutes. I was actually just starting to give serious consideration to the idea of kicking the door in though.”

The soft note of humor in his voice makes you laugh even though you try very hard not to. “You are truly hopeless, your grace.”

“Apologies for that.” He lightly, playfully nudges you with his leg. “I thought you were treating me like a boogeyman you needed to hide from, and I just couldn’t bear the thought. I was starting to get desperate. All jokes aside though, I’m glad you wanted to talk.”

“Me too …”

Decisively, you turn on the cushions to fully face him.

“Let me say my peace first,” You reach across his lap to carefully take his hand, and he gladly turns the palm up to lace his fingers with yours. He doesn’t say anything though, giving you your chance to speak, so you force your lungs to expand on a shuddering breath. “I feel no ill will for you, Wriothesley. None at all. I understand why you do the things you do. It’s to protect me, isn’t it? The only way you’ve ever known how to protect anything.”

He nods once, further bolstering your courage.

“I appreciate it. All of it. Everything you’ve ever done for me. It means more than I could ever hope to put into words, and I’d like to someday be able to give you even a fraction of that same happiness back. But I need you to understand that — that I’m not helpless. I probably seem it from your perspective, but I’m not. I was much more rattled by what you did to him than I was about George actually grabbing me, and the other day I was so caught up worrying about what you were going to do that I didn’t even have a chance to be worried about myself. You were right that I shouldn’t have gotten that close to that fight when there was nothing at all I could have done other than get in the way but … you understand why I did it, don’t you?”

Another nod. “I do, little miss, and I’m sorry for putting you in that kind of situation. In trying to protect you, it seems I just pushed you closer to the danger.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m not upset with you for it. I just want us to … find a compromise.”

Wriothesley quirks a brow at that. “Compromise? That doesn’t sound like you at all. You’re even more obstinate and stubborn than I am.”

“Do not tease me.” You warn, though it lacks any real bite. “I’m not sure how much this will mean to you right now, but I realize you’ve put up with a great deal of my nonsense this whole time so … I would like to put up with yours too. If you’ll let me. I’d like that very much.”

The corners of his mouth slowly tug up in a soft, teasing little smirk. “Oho? And is that your way of confessing your feelings for me, pretty girl?”

“I said don’t tease me!”

Rumbling a soft laugh, he gives your hand a tight squeeze and lifts it to his mouth for a hard kiss pressed into the backs of your knuckles. “Don’t worry. I have no desire to tease you right this moment. But even if you can’t say it yet, that doesn’t mean I won’t.” Another kiss, one that lingers this time. “I love you, little miss. You’re very special to me even when you’re being difficult or throwing a fit over something, but especially when you get that tiny wrinkle between your brow. I find you irresistible and charming even on your worst days, and I wouldn’t trade your nonsense for the world. I love you, and that’s why I’ve tried to protect you so fiercely this whole time.”

“O - oh,” Quaking there on the couch, you shyly avert your gaze, not having expected such an — ardent proclamation from him. But Wriothesley only brings his unoccupied hand up to cup the side of your cheek, tipping your face up at him with a gentle nudge.

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart. I’ll tell you as many times as it takes until you’re ready to accept it.” Bending close, he presses his lips to your nose. “I love you.” Your fluttering eyelashes. “I love you.” Your cheek. “I love you beyond all reason and logical sense, but I love you just the same. Thank you for still being willing to have me.”

“You needn’t thank me for that …”

“I do, precious girl. I love you, so I’m going to show you my gratitude for that.” Tipping his head slightly, Wriothesley finally finds your mouth and he kisses you for a long time until it feels like you’re sinking to the bottom of a peacefully still lake. You don’t exactly know what to think of it. All of it. But you decide that you don’t really need to think about it at all when he pulls back just enough to look at you with those pale sapphires in his eyes. “It might take me some getting used to, but I promise I’ll work on giving you more freedom when you’re in Meropide. I still don’t want you wandering around by yourself unaccompanied but I think I can let you off my apron strings for a little while.”

He chuckles at the flash of annoyance across your face, giving your cheek a soft, affectionate pinch to make you squirm.

“If you can promise not to worry so much about what I’m going to do,” He continues warmly. “And worry more about yourself, then I can promise to keep my fists in check. That doesn’t mean it won’t ever happen where I won’t need to use them again, but I do solemnly swear to not give you any reason to think the worst of me. For better or worse, you hold my leash. Your command is mine to obey.”

You pin him with a wry look as you untangle your fingers from his and bring your hands up to curve over the strong ridge of his jaw, tugging him in closer. “My faithful guard dog?”

“Until my dying breath.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wriothesley leaves, and then he comes back later that night at your invitation to have dinner together. He’d mentioned that he wanted to make sure everything was still in order at the prison first and also grab an overnight bag for himself while he was at it, and you were very glad for the chance to get yourself situated in that time. You enjoyed a very long, very relaxing bath, ate something for the first time in who knows how many days, and even found the opportunity to take a much needed nap on your loveseat. By the time he returns, you’re feeling pleasantly refreshed and eager to spend the evening with him. You hadn’t even realized just how much you’d actually missed getting to see him and talk with him until after the storm clouds had passed, and you were eager to rekindle the intimacy you were now used to sharing.

The two of you end up in your kitchen, cooking together for the first time, and it is decidedly nice to have to shuffle around each other in the cramped little space. He’s very soft and tender with you, as if making up for the time spent apart, while he quietly murmurs that not-so-dreaded-anymore ‘L’ word at every possible opportunity he gets. His hands brush yours often, and he occasionally grabs handfuls of your hips to pull you in against him. At one point those warm, lingering embraces even morph into a slow dance around your kitchen, and he gently sways you while the roast simmers in the oven.

You’re sure it has to be impossible for anyone to feel any happier than you do in that moment. For as frustrating and headache inducing he could be, Wriothesley really was sweet. You wished you hadn’t said all those mean things to him in his office but he was willing to forgive it, and you were likewise willing to forgive him for the way he’d yelled at you.

It almost seemed silly in retrospect, actually, but you’d gotten a little too used to his always calm demeanor, the deliberately careful way he handled you with intent and purpose. You’d almost forgotten what he was in that time, but you vowed not to let it happen again. If you really were to hold his leash then it wouldn’t stand to reason for you to worry so much about what he was going to do or what he might do. You just needed to trust him to do what was right by you, whatever that might be.

You sit at the table and eat together, discussing what had gone on at the prison since you’d last been there a few days ago. Wriothesley assures you everything is going well, that the two instigators from before were very much still recovering and would soon be on the receiving end of a personal visit from the duke. He also takes the time to mention that Sigewinne sent her regards, and that she hoped to see you in the infirmary again soon. Thinking back on the last conversation you’d had with her before everything blew up past the point of recognition, you soon find fluster settling over you and of course Wriothesley doesn’t miss it.

“Should I even ask what’s got you making that face?” He teases, sitting back in his chair with a glass decanter of whiskey clutched loosely in his hand. Just smiling over at you. Content and relaxed. He looked like a king on his throne.

You weren’t much a fan of harder spirits and had only picked up the bottle for him when it started to look like he would be spending much more time at your flat, and you somewhat anxiously twiddle the stem of your wine glass for a distraction. “It’s nothing, really. Kind of silly, if i'm being honest.”

“I think I might be in the mood for silly.” He murmurs, sending you a meaningful look. “Out with it, pretty girl. I’m all ears.”

Unable to stop yourself, you fix him with a vaguely suspicious frown. Sigewinne hadn’t told him about all of that nonsense … had she? “The last time I was there, right before that mess with the inmates, she gave me something. Makeup.”

“Oh? That doesn’t seem so strange for her. Nothing to make you start squirming, anyway.”

You watch Wriothesley lift the stout glass to his mouth, and he watches you back over the rim while he sips. It was like you were playing a game of chicken or something. But surely he didn’t know what she’d said about the makeup, otherwise he would have been teasing you for it. You almost start to think he’s fishing for something, but then it hits you.

The subtle heat in his eyes had nothing at all to do with Sigewinne or the gift she’d given you. He was feeling a different kind of hunger that could be satiated with neither food nor drink, and certainly not makeup.

A warm tendril curls in your lower belly, prompting you to shift in your seat and you smile at him now. He’d given you this power because he wanted you to have it. Had said so himself. It seemed like it would have been a waste to squander it, and you quickly decide you can play this game with him a little longer.

“She gave me lipstick, your grace.”

Lowering his glass, he tips his head to one side in thought. Obviously interested. Clearly curious. The scoundrel.

“I see. That was very nice of her, wasn’t it? She very much enjoys giving gifts to those she likes, so I’m sure that won’t be the last one you receive.” One of his dark brows lifts as if to say ‘your turn, little miss” and you start to wonder how long you’ll be able to last when he looked so terribly ravishing like that.

“Yes, I was very flattered. The last time she said she had something for me it was one of those awful milkshakes you warned me about, so it was a relief not to receive another. It’s a very pretty shade of lipstick but she did say some interesting things when she gave it to me, though.”

“Hm? Like what?”

Inching to the edge of your chair, you lean towards him slightly. “Miss Sigewinne informed me that you’re rather fond of the color red, your grace, and that was why she gave it to me. So that I might wear it for you.”

The not so subtle look that flashes behind his eyes makes your pulse quicken. He really was bestial at times, most notably where you were concerned it seemed. To think that you could so easily rile him like this …

“She gave you red lipstick?” He drawls. “That’s dangerous.”

You blink at that. “Dangerous, your grace?”

Inclining his chin in a pointed nod, Wriothesley stretches to set his near empty glass on the table. “Very. Because now I want to make a mess of it with my cock.”

It feels like you’ve been struck by a bolt of lightning, and your back snaps straight with a powerful shudder. “That does sound dangerous …” You murmur, suddenly feeling ten degrees hotter than before, and he faintly hums as if in solemn agreement. Licking your lips, you decide to take the plunge. “The last time you were here when we … slept together, you said you had something in mind to help me. What was it?”

“Are you interested in hearing all the sordid details, pretty girl?”

“No,” You subtly shift at the thought. “I mean, I do. Yes. But mostly I’m just curious, is all.

He takes a moment to consider you from across the table, and you just start to wonder if perhaps it was too soon after your biggest fight with the duke yet to expect that kind of intimacy when he draws a deliberate breath. “I brought everything I think I’ll need, if you’d like a demonstration.”

Somehow your surprise manages to overshadow the pang of wanting you feel low in your gut. “You came prepared?”

“Yes, but not in the way I can tell you’re thinking.” He chuckles quietly. “The day after the fundraiser and I returned to the fortress I made my preparations then. Everything was already packed and ready. I just needed to grab it. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to bring it along just in case. Actually, if you want the truth,”

You sit up a little straighter at the shift in his tone, knowing he was about to say something important.

“I thought perhaps I could leave this particular bag here so we would always have these items on hand whenever you were ready for them. Since it looked like we were making progress in the right direction, I was under the impression that we would be spending more nights together like that. And of course it has some toiletries and such for myself as well.”

“I see,” Dropping his steady gaze, you reach up to fiddle with your fork. “I really am sorry, your grace. For blowing up on you like I did. I didn’t mean to ruin everything.”

“Nonsense. You didn’t ruin anything, little miss. It was just a small hiccup, that’s all. As the saying goes, there’s no use in crying over spilt milk, is there?” Pausing, he studies you for another moment and when he next speaks it's in a softer, rumbling drawl full of suggestion and promise. “The decision is ultimately yours, as it always is, but if you want to give it a go I would be too happy to oblige you.”

You could feel your cheeks starting to grow warm. “It’s not too soon? Or too sudden?”

“I don’t believe it is. Just because we had an argument and you didn’t want to see me for a few days, that doesn’t mean I stopped wanting you in that time.”

Well, when he put it like that …

“May I ask what sort of — items they are?”

“Hm. You’re free to ask, but I don’t think I’m going to tell you.”

Finally bringing your attention back up, you look over at him with no shortage of suspicion. Wriothesley only smiles at you though, his mood amicable and even playful, but you don’t miss the growing heat in his eyes. Not by a country mile.

“Do you remember that little lesson I gave you with my belt not long ago?” He laughs under his breath when you visibly shudder in your seat at the reminder. “Ooh, I thought you would. Don’t fret though, I have no plans of doing that again. Not tonight, at any rate. I just think the lesson is applicable here as well. When you can’t see what’s coming you’re much more … shall we say, persuadable? If I’d told you flat out I was going to spank your cute little bottom with my belt what do you think you would have done?”

You turn that over for a brief moment, and you’re not particularly happy with the answer you come up with. “I would have flown off into hysterics …”

“Good. Every time we play this game you gain a little more self awareness, precious girl. I hope you know how pleased I am with the progress you’ve made in terms of being honest with yourself as much as with others, but most importantly with me.”

It’s difficult not to be at least a bit pleased to hear that, and you find yourself quickly regaining some of your confidence. “So your plan is simply to trick me into it?”

“Something like that,” He relents with another low laugh.

For better or worse you don’t even really need to think about it any further than that. Looking at him over the table, you know you not only want him in that moment but you also trusted him perhaps more than you’d ever thought it was possible to put your blind faith in another person. Even after he’d grabbed you in the heat of his bubbling emotions and raised his voice at you, you’d still wanted him this entire time. Not the fight afterward or even learning of his past had been enough to snuff out what you felt for him. Although it had taken speaking with monsieur Neuvillette for you to truly grasp the full extent of what you held for Wriothesley in your heart, it seemed so obvious to you now.

As clear as any picture taken with the latest kamera model and as pleasing to the eye as a master painter's magnum opus, you could plainly see where this was headed. Not just tonight, but your future as a whole. It was resoundingly, unequivocally with Wriothesley, and you couldn’t so much as fathom the idea of giving any single part of yourself to anyone else the same way. He really was it, wasn’t he? The penultimate result of everything that had lead up to this point.

“I think I’d like to give it a shot, your grace.”

He doesn’t seem surprised, but he doesn’t gloat about it either. Just keeps looking at you with that same unwavering certainty that had slowly picked away at your defenses over time. “Are you sure? Even if you tell me ‘yes’ now, you can still change your mind later.”

You nod. “I understand that, and I’m sure.”

Regarding you for another moment longer, Wriothesley eventually draws a slow inhale that makes his broad shoulders rise. The air seems to shift, becoming anticipatory and static charged as he sedately nudges his chair back and rises to his feet. You watch him come around the table with an eager flutter in your chest, smiling up at him when he comes to stand over your chair.

His hand lifts to tenderly cup the side of your face, and he simply looks at you for a long stretch. Like he was committing the sight of you before him to memory. Then, without a word, he bends at the waist to bring his face close to yours and you happily tip your mouth up to accept the kiss he places there. His lips move with yours in a slow, intoxicating dance that is so soft around the edges yet backed by hard steel and thrumming hunger that it soon robs you of the ability to breathe. It doesn’t take long to have you panting slightly, and when his hand eventually slides down to join the other in unbuttoning your blouse you start to feel a bit lightheaded.

Swaying in your seat, you turn your head to break away from his searing kiss and suck in a lungful of fresh air while he nuzzles against you with a soft murmur of praise. When he tells you how much he’s missed you over the last few days, you tremble and whisper back that you missed him too.

Kissing the side of your neck now, Wriothesley gets your shirt undone down to the waistband of your skirt and gently parts the fabric to expose the bra underneath. He seems largely content to leave you clothed for the time being though, and simply slips one of those big, coarse hands inside to fondle your chest. Coming alive for him, you push your breasts out to further offer them to the possessive squeeze of those blocky fingers as your own come up to clutch at his forearm. Musculature and sinew flex under your fingertips while he kneads the swell of flesh through your brassier, and you can’t help but whine when he pulls back some moments later.

“So impatient, pretty girl.” He softly chides you as he sinks down to the floor where he greedily palms the meat of your thighs, spreading them wide so he can situate himself between them. You can’t quite find the presence of mind to be embarrassed about it though, and you lift your hand to card it through his dark hair.

Tipping his head into the gesture for a brief, savory moment, Wriothesley then bends close to press his mouth to the center of your chest. A barely audible sigh escapes you as he takes his time kissing over the swell of your breasts and teasing the stiff nipples underneath the satiny soft cups before trailing lower. Realizing all at once what he was building up to, you close your fingers around the roots of his hair and give it a fitful little tug.

“Y - your grace …”

“I’ve been thinking about getting to do this again almost nonstop,” He confides in you, broad hands squeezing tight around your waist before dragging lower to inch your skirt up. “I’m not sure you even know how good it felt to finally put my mouth on you after all this time … it was hard not to give into the urge when I had this sweet pussy spread out on my lap or just inches away from my nose, especially when I knew you’d like it if you’d just give it a chance.”

“You do seem to have a good sense for what I’ll like,” Reaching down with your unoccupied hand to grip the side of the chair when his fingers start to creep upward, you angle your hips in invitation for him tug your panties down. His gaze remains locked on yours, head tipped back to watch your reaction, and you’re sure he must be getting a good show. You were still a little embarrassed at having him do this, putting his mouth on such a place, but oh, how badly you wanted it.

Sliding your underwear down and off, he tosses them aside without another thought before going up on his knees so he can shuffle somehow even closer. You’re almost disappointed that he doesn’t go straight for what’s between your legs, but the thought quickly drifts away when he cups your face in both hands and kisses you again. You cling to him while he leisurely claims your mouth, fisting the back of his black button up in a death grip when he eventually reaches down to pull at your bra. Tits soon spilling out over the top, you shudder and whine at the sensation of your nipples freely straining into the still air. He’s quick to oblige you, and a fresh tremor works through you when blunt thumbs carefully brush over the stiffened peaks.

“Oh,” You gasp, pulling from his mouth to sway dizzily in your seat. The sharp pangs of pleasure that race through your nerve endings at just that brief contact has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together but you can’t do that with him kneeling between them.

“You like that, pretty girl? Huh?” Following you, Wriothesley presses another kiss to the corner of your lips. “I’m glad you do, if I’m being honest. These feel so good in my hands.” Another kiss, one that lingers this time. “I think I could play with them all day, if you’d let me.”

Moaning when he plucks at them, almost casually pinching and pulling with his fingers, you tip your face down to watch. The swell of your breasts seems much more pronounced where the rucked under bra is pushing them up slightly, and in the center of them your nipples look so tightly coiled it draws another low sound of wanting out of you. You tremble almost violently when, noticing where your attention is, Wriothesley adjusts his hands to gently flick over them. Up and down, up and down, and then side to side. The tips of your breasts positively ache with the sensation, and you soon find yourself squirming in your seat again.

“I … I want your mouth on me, sir. Please.”

“Ooh, good girl. You know how much I like it when you ask me for things.” Pausing just long enough to give your nipples one last, taunting tug that has you keening, he lowers his hands to knead your thighs instead. “Would you prefer to take it to the bedroom, or will you permit me to do it here?”

You steal a surreptitious glance at the table, the mostly empty plates, the nearly drained glasses. It didn’t even matter. “Here is fine, your grace.”

Rumbling a low sound of approval, he inches the hem of your skirt up a bit more until you feel the waft of cool air against your bare, thoroughly sticky cunt. “I still have every intention of making you sit on my face … but we can save it for later. There’s no rush, after all.”

Whimpering softly as you watch him lean back and then curl those burly arms under your knees, reaching up to grasp your hips, you let him tug you to the very edge of the seat to leave your ass half hanging off. His hold on you is good though, and you don’t even give it a second thought while you run even hotter for him at the sight of your own pussy spread open like this.

“W - were you going to make me do it if I’d chosen the bedroom?”

The smirk that cuts across his roguish mouth assures you just how right you actually were.

“Such a clever girl you are. I knew you’d start to figure out how this works.” Bending his face close, he places a firm kiss to the apex of your mound. “I hope you had a chance to get some rest earlier, by the way. I don’t think I’m going to be done with you until the morning sun comes up.”

You suck in a slow, hissing breath, and plaintively tip your cunt up at him. Sending you a slow look from under the fall of his dark lashes, he gives you another kiss and drags his mouth a pinch lower. The next kiss is pressed right over your slit, making your clit tingle at the distant, featherlight sensation as Wriothesley nudges your thighs more securely over his shoulders, opening his mouth wide to kiss at you a little more deeply. The soft, wet warmth inspires a stiff shudder that makes your legs twitch in the air, a breathy moan slipping out of you a heartbeat later when he works your lips open enough to drag his tongue over petal-smooth creases and folds. You already felt sick with the thrumming tension low in your gut and he’d barely gotten started yet …

Taking his time with it, just savoring the moment, he graces your clit with teasing kitten licks that just further ratchet up your need for something more substantial. It doesn’t last long though, each pass of his tongue steadily becoming firmer, more purposeful, until you practically jolt right off the chair when he finally drags the flat of it right over the sensitive pleasure button. Squeaking at the powerful tremor, you reach down to grab at his hair again and squeeze your thighs around his head. It’s too late for you to dissuade him though, his face already buried so deep in your cunt that you couldn’t have closed him out even if you’d wanted to. Arching against him, you let your eyes slip shut and just focus on the sensation.

His mouth felt good sinking into the soft give of your cunt, so strong and unyielding, yet fleshy and pliant at the same time. The way he breathes in deep without pulling back sends a fresh rush to your quaking guts, as does the hot groan he puffs out against your slit a moment later. The tip of his tongue is soft and probing, while the broad flat of it is a little rough, and he seems to take a great deal of joy in torturing you with it centered directly over your clit. Everything is so warm and wet, and overwhelmingly mind numbing that you quickly lose yourself in it.

Even when he nudges further down to swirl around your entrance and lap up the accumulated slick there, you soon realize you’re just as weak for this as you were with the more direct contact. Thinking back on what he’d said while instructing you how to pleasure him, it made sense. The whole area was sensitive — and you outright gasp as he presses his tongue inside you, just breaching your body.

“Oh!” The sound punches out of you in surprise, thrumming muscles clamping down on the intrusion but it’s too soft and slippery to brace against. He just wriggles it around inside you, teasing the suggestion of true penetration, and you suddenly feel faint.

Was this how his cock would feel inside you?

“Aahhnn … oh, gods! That’s - -“

Growling faintly into your pussy, Wriothesley pulls his tongue back and then pushes it back in, slowly fucking into your hole like he had all the time in the world to do this at his own leisure. Maybe he did. He probably would have been happy to make the time if he didn’t, but it doesn’t take long for your squeezing cunt to start tingling with warning tremors. You couldn’t take it.

“Please!” You whine, giving his hair a weak little tug. “Your mouth — oooh!”

Heaving a deeply masculine sound, he drags his tongue out of you and then back up to your throbbing clit. He gives it a wet, smacking kiss that makes your toes curl, and then seals his lips around it to briefly suckle at you. Delirious and sweaty, you twist there in the chair and he responds with a muted shake of his head. Just like that last time that jostle against all the nerve endings catches you off guard and you start to tip as he directs his tongue to the epicenter of your body once again.

“Oh! Oh, oh, Wri — aahhn! Wriothesley!” Somehow you manage to find purchase along his back and, digging your heel into his firm shoulder, you somewhat inelegantly jut your cunt up into his mouth. You chase that vibrating pinprick with a faltering moan, struggling just to get enough air in your lungs, and he lets out a stifling hot moan while you ride his face.

Your distressed moaning quickly takes on a dire tinge like this, and your hips grind to a shuddering halt when you feel the pressure start to collapse in on itself. Helpfully, he uses his big hands where they’re still clutching your hips to nudge you up against him again, and again, and again, forcing you to keep humping his mouth even when your legs shake too hard for you to do it yourself. Release slams into you like a sack of bricks, so suddenly and so powerful it was like it had snuck up on you. You can’t help the shriek of delight you let out as you mindlessly writhe in the chair, gripping his hair so hard your knuckles scream in protest, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

Same as last time, he continues to eat you out well past the point of comfort and he only stops once your shudders turn into sensitive twitching and you keen like some hurt little thing. Only then does he finally pull away, but not without one last kiss pressed into your cunt, and then he sits back to peer up at you. The noticeable glisten of moisture coating the lower half of his face nearly sends you into another fit of convulsions.

“Oh, Wriothesley - -“

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? I’m right here.” Leaning into you and nearly folding you in half in the process when your knees were still hooked over his shoulders, he claims your mouth in another slow, possessive kiss. You moan very softly at the taste of yourself but still gladly accept his tongue when it slips out over your lips to coat your tastebuds in it. That you don’t even have the wherewithal to be ashamed for it anymore gives you a helium sense of liberation as you clutch him against you, kissing him back fervently.

But of course he eventually pulls away, and you can’t help but sigh into the warm haze surrounding the two of you. For a long moment you just look at one another, and then his mouth pulls into one of those secretive little smiles he was always so fond of giving you.

“Ready for the next round, pretty girl?”

Unable to stop it, you smile too. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Loosing a terse, anticipatory sigh, Wriothesley leans back to untangle himself from you. His arms immediately twine around your waist though, and you let out a soft squeak when he hauls you right up against him as he stands.

Grabbing hold of his shoulders to steady yourself, you look down at him with widened eyes. You weren’t used to being quite so high off the ground, but he’s strong and sure underneath you, and he doesn’t seem to falter even a moment as he turns to make his way to the bedroom.

“I think you’re really going to like what I have in store for you tonight. Are you going to be a brave girl for me?”

“Don’t tease me …”

He chuckles, nudging the door open and then kicking it shut behind him again. “Teasing you is all I’m going to be doing here in a minute.”

You aren’t entirely sure what to make of that, but he doesn’t give you a chance to overthink it. Depositing you onto the bed with a muted bounce, he turns to retrieve his bag from the corner. A nervous flutter comes to life in your gut and you start to reach up to close your shirt, or at least fix your bra, but decide better of it. You had a feeling you would soon be losing all your clothes anyway, so you just watch him come back to the bed where he sets the plain luggage on the corner of the mattress.

Sending you a slow, knowing smirk when he sees your tits still out, Wriothesley opens the latch and digs around for a moment. You find yourself squirming in place, wondering what it is he’s going to pull out, but all you feel is a mild sense of surprise when he withdraws a silky strip of red fabric. It looked like it could have perhaps been a tie in another life.

“That’s it?” You blurt, confusion coloring your voice.

“There’s more. Just be patient for once.” Mirth dancing in the blue of his eyes, he sets the item down on top of the bag for a moment before reaching for you. His hands slide into place against your cheeks, and you breathe out a content sigh as he tips your face up at him. “My sweet girl … has anyone ever told you how positively insatiable you are?”

“Only for you.”

“Good answer.” Humming faintly, he drags his hands over your neck and then lower still to tug your shirt out of the waistband. “Alright, let’s get you undressed then. As much as I love to simply look at you, we don’t want the night to get away from us do we?”

“Will you take off your clothes as well?” You ask, shrugging out of your top while he sets his sights on the latch of your skirt.

“Eventually, yes. Remember what I just said about being patient?”

Huffing, you lift your hips so he can relieve you of the last of your clothes, everything save the thigh highs you had on. You’re a little surprised when he leaves them and reaches for the length of silk, but somehow having just your legs still covered almost seems to highlight the rest of your nudity. It felt … stark, somehow, and you shiver when your nipples tightly picker in response.

“Hold your hands up for me?” He prompts, bringing your attention back around. Blinking owlishly, you do just that and your heart stutters a beat when he starts to twine the strip of fabric around your wrists with sure, practiced motions.

“S - sir?”

“Don’t worry, we’re going to take this one step at a time. I have a sneaking suspicion you’re going to very much enjoy being restrained by the time we’re through but if you truly think you can’t handle it, just say the word. I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen though.”

You swallow. Hard. “What are you going to do?”

“That is for me to know, and for you to find out.” Putting the finishing touches on the knot, Wriothesley slips a finger under the bindings to test the give. It doesn’t budge. “How does that feel, little miss?”

“… secure.”

He gives a small laugh. “Excellent. Now, where is that lipstick Sigewinne gave you?”

Your head comes up in surprise, but then you remember what he’d said at the table. The powerful tremor that tears through you very nearly robs you of the ability to breathe. He was going to … he really planned to - -

“It’s on the desk.”

Reaching up, he gives your cheek a brief pinch before turning to shuffle across the room and you just sit there in vibrating anticipation, trying to process where this was going. It was quite clear, of course, and you weren’t in suspense so much as you were … looking forward to it.

You had rather liked putting your mouth all over him.

His hand is suddenly under your chin, turning your face up to look at him. You give a faint startle, having been so lost in your whirlwind thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed him coming back, but he just smiles down at you.

“Not getting distracted, are we?”

“… n - no, sir.”

He doesn’t look like he quite believes that, but he doesn’t press you any further. Drawing a patient breath, he retracts his hand in favor of uncapping the petite tube in the other and then bends close. “I’m no expert in such delicate matters but I promise I’ll give it my best effort. May I?”

He wanted to put it on you himself?

Slowly, you nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you, little miss.” Tone dropping in concentration, he fixes his attention on your lips and brings the applicator up. “You are much too kind to me.”

You almost find yourself smiling but you quickly school your features. The last thing you wanted was to make him draw a hard red line across your face or, possibly worse, break the delicately formed lipstick column, and yet … despite what he’d said to the contrary, Wriothesley’s hand remains unexpectedly steady throughout the process. He’s very careful about the whole thing, not nearly as quick as you likely would have been, but you can tell he’s doing a good job staying within the outline of your lips. You never would have expected it to feel so nice having your lover apply makeup to your face like that and, although you likely wouldn’t have let him do it if you were going out into public, like this … like this it was oddly satisfying. Intimate, almost.

“Well,” He finally says, straightening up to admire his handiwork. “It’s not perfect but I’d say I didn’t do too bad.”

“I have nothing but the utmost faith in you, your grace.” Giggling when he decisively puts the cap back on and tosses it to land somewhere on the bed, you give him a bashful smile. “How do I look? Is it my color?”

The flash of heat behind his eyes tells you your answer long before he draws a stilted breath that makes his shoulders lift. “It’s the perfect color for you. If I didn’t want to see it smeared all over my cock right now, I’d be kissing it right off you.”

“Oh,”

Letting out a strained chuckle, Wriothesley reaches for the front of his pants next. “Ready to tend to me, pretty girl?”

Your arousal comes rushing right back into the forefront of your mind, and you jerk your head in a quick nod. “Yes, sir.”

Buckle rattling, he pauses long enough to slide the length of leather out of the belt loops so he can toss it aside before setting upon the hidden latches and buttons. You start to bring your hands up to help him only to promptly remember that they were bound together at the wrist, and you can’t stop from pouting about it a little bit. The greater point of this exercise was clear. You wouldn’t be able to freely touch him like this, and he was probably counting on that to make you all the more desperate to do just that until you were just begging for it.

You weren’t so sure that it wasn’t going to work.

The thought dissipates like sugar in warm water, however, when he shoves his pants and underwear down to his thighs. Just as it had that night in your bathroom, his cock springs up between the two of you proud and straining hard. It gives a heavy bob when he shuffles closer so he can lift a hand to possessively palm the top of your head. That alone is enough to make your pussy flutter in eager excitement, but then you watch him grab around the base with the other and point it straight at you.

“Open your mouth nice and big for me, pretty girl. There you go … gods, you have no idea how much I’ve thought about having your lips wrapped around me again”

He grunts, very softly, as you eagerly sink down on him as far as you can comfortably take it. But rather than letting you stop there, Wriothesley gently nudges your head further and gives his hips a halfhearted push.

“A little more, baby, come on. You’re so close to taking the whole thing for me. I want to see that pretty mouth stretched around the base … take it right to the back of your throat. I’ve got you, pretty girl.”

Whimpering around the thick intrusion, you make a valiant effort to blink away the tears that spring up in your eyes when you reflexively gag. You try to suppress it though, and sink down even more until you feel the distant tickle of coarse hair on your nose.

“Ooh, gods. That’s it. Now seal your mouth around it, nice and tight … nnghn, yes, how’s that cock taste, sweetheart? You like that?”

You nod your head even as your eyes screw shut, fighting against your own body to stop it from heaving up your whole dinner. But he’s quick to pull back, the hand on your head holding you steady when you sway on the edge of the mattress and suck in a haggard gasp of air.

“Good girl,” He breathes out, sounding mildly ruffled now as he manually directs your attention down at the heavy length bobbing between the two of you. “Such a good girl for me. Look at how much of me you just had stuffed in your mouth.”

Groaning at the faint red band around him, you feel yourself slip a little further under the swimming daze blanketing your mind. You bring your hands up, in tandem now, and carefully cup them around the satiny weight of his balls, earning a low rumble of approval out of him. You almost hadn’t thought you’d be able to do it, but the proof of it was staring right back at you. It’s nearly as satisfying as the softly heated praise he showers you with.

“I want you to take a good, long look at this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the thickest part of him to cover the lipstick stain. “This is how much of me your cute pussy is going to take too. It’s going to stretch you out just the same way it just did to your mouth. Can you imagine it, how it’s going to feel?”

You nod your head before you’ve even fully processed the question, shuddering so hard it makes your eyes vibrate in their sockets.

“Good. Then I want you to keep thinking about it while I fuck your mouth instead.”

A startled little sound of confusion bursts out of you, but he presses on the back of your head before you can form a coherent thought and you noise a muffled groan when his cock fills your mouth again. Holding you in place rather than guiding your head up and down, he instead flexes his hips to drive that rigid length back and forth over your tongue. His thrusts remain careful and controlled, sedate enough to give you a chance to breathe, but that does absolutely nothing to detract from the sympathetic flutter you feel deep inside your cunt.

It’s almost horrifyingly easy to imagine it, in fact. The same sensation of all that smooth, velvety skin working in and out of your body, how seamless the glide would be, how warm he would feel lodged deep within your guts. You almost couldn’t believe how hot it actually makes you to think about it, like you were liable to combust and catch fire at any moment. If you’d had the ability to, you probably would have been begging him to take you right then and there.

“I wish you could see how utterly ravishable you look right now, little miss. That lipstick really does make you look absolutely irresistible … and it looks even better smeared all over my cock. I almost want to cum all over your lips and paint them white.”

At your groaning, half choked sound of question, he issues another low laugh.

“That’s right, I’m going to hold out for that sweet pussy. This is just the warm up … but oh, what a warm up it is. I think you’re enjoying it too, aren’t you?”

You screw your eyes shut and weakly push at his thigh with your bound hands, but he just readjusts his hold to better keep you in place. His palm was so big it almost seemed to dwarf your entire head, and you violently shudder at how small he made you feel. Everything from his hands down to his cock was just so large …

Would your cunt really be able to take the whole thing?

Gasping raggedly when Wriothesley finally pulls you off him some moments later, you rock back to cough and sputter. Undeniably grateful for the reprieve, you blearily look at the bobbing length between you only to mewl softly at the glistening thread of spittle still connecting him to your raw mouth. Your chin was coated in it too, but he just brings his hand down to swipe it away without another thought to the matter.

“Feeling good so far, little miss?”

At your breathless nod, he tenderly cups the side of your face for a moment before giving it a light pat. “Good girl. Let’s move on to the next part then, shall we?”

Still wheezing and trying to catch your breath, you watch him reach over into the bag and pull out — another red strip of fabric? You didn’t understand. Was he going to tie your ankles next, or - -

He shuffles right up to you then and you suddenly forget how to breathe with that spit coated cock straining out towards your chest, so close you could have easily taken it back into your mouth again. Before you can even think to do it though, he brings that second piece of cloth close to fix your attention on it instead.

“I’m going to cover your eyes with this, if you’ll allow me to. You won’t be able to see or use your hands much, but you’ll still be able to talk. I’m not going to gag you or anything like that, pretty girl, so you can still change your mind later. Does that sound agreeable?”

You hesitate just a moment, ever so slightly unnerved at the thought of having your sight taken away, but you trusted him. Implicitly. “Yes, sir.”

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs, and that vaguely secretive smile is the last thing you see before he slips the strip over your eyes and reaches around to tie it off at the back of your head.

Your heart rate immediately picks up with a muted jolt, but you don’t feel any true panic. Just a bit of nerves. Some excitement mixed in with it. You were undeniably curious to find out what, exactly, he had planned for you, and the promise of his cock at the end certainly helped further sweeten the deal.

“There. Don’t you look pretty.” You feel him bend close and press a kiss to the top of your head. “Lipstick smeared and blindfolded … almost makes me wish I had a kamera on hand.”

Your chest hitches. “Your grace - -“

“Shh. I was only joking.” He soothes you, caressing broad knuckles down the side of your face.

You aren’t so sure you appreciate the humorous tone in his voice, but you promptly forget all about it when he gently guides you back to lay out on the bed. Holding your bound hands over your stomach, you somewhat awkwardly brace for him to climb on top of you, to claim you, thinking that was his intention in keeping you unawares. Rather than that though, you feel the mattress beside you dip down slightly with his weight. Then, out of the blue, calloused fingers squeeze around the meat of your breast to make you jolt.

“So jumpy,” Laughing under his breath, Wriothesley takes a moment to just knead the swell of your chest and give you a chance to relax into it before proceeding any further. “Do you recall what I told you the night before the fundraiser, little miss?”

You frown slightly, too caught up in the way his fingertips sink into your skin to have much higher thought process left at your disposal. “I’m not sure … it feels like so much has happened since then. I don’t think I do.”

“All the better then.”

Opening your mouth, you start to question it, but all that comes out is a surprised squeak when he directs his fingers to your nipple. The delicate bud had started to grow soft in the warm fog surrounding you, but now it springs back up while he pinches and tweaks it, stiltedly plucking the dense cluster of nerves back to straining attention. You think, idly, that you should probably close your mouth instead of letting it hang open in such a brazen and unladylike manner but you can’t quite seem to accomplish that right now. Especially not when he switches to the other breast, taking your second nipple between his blocky thumb and forefinger, and you promptly loose another faltering sound of pleasure.

Back and forth, just like that, he teases and plays with your tits until you’re squirming on top of the sheets and squeezing your thighs together in a blithe attempt to alleviate some of the building pressure there. He’s entirely relentless about it though, even when you weekly lift your hands as if to block or otherwise push him away he just reaches around to attack the other side. It felt a bit like being bullied … no, that was exactly what it felt like and you were ashamed to say it was driving you crazy! Never before had your teats felt so very stiff and sensitized, his rough fingertips providing the perfect amount of friction to leave your toes tightly curled.

It was almost too much, in a way … but it also doesn’t escape your notice that you were technically free to pull away from him at any point. With him sitting beside you, you could have rolled over in the opposite direction to escape the torture of his hand but you don’t. The thought never even seriously crosses your mind.

He’d been right to suspect you would like this.

“You’re awfully cute, you know that?” He murmurs after long moments that feel like eons to your punchdrunk mind. You twitch at the sound of his voice, whining softly — but it quickly cuts off with a sharp gasp when his other suddenly joins the fray, and both of your nipples are being pinched and pulled, and rubbed, and your back almost violently bows from how hard you writhe. “Mmm, I still think you could cum just from having your chest played with, if it went on long enough … would you like to try it, sweet girl? Want me to see if I can make you break apart like this?”

He accompanies this question with a twist of his wrists, tweaking both nipples just so, and you very nearly levitate right up off the bed. “Ooohh, no, no, no, please, sir, no more! I — I don’t think I can take it …”

“Hearing you say that just makes me want to keep going, you know.”

Another tweak, to make you jolt and let out a half strangled sob. “Please, Wriothesley … n - no more …”

To your great relief, he does indeed pull away and your tits achingly throb in the aftermath, so raw and stiff it pulls a faltering little mewl out of you. “Alright, since you asked so nicely I suppose we can move on … think you’re ready for this, sweet girl?”

Weakly twisting on the sheets, you blindly tip your face in the general direction his voice was coming from. It sounded like he was reaching into the bag again, or … perhaps removing his clothes? “I — I don’t even know what’s coming to say if I’m ready for it or not.”

A faint chuckle from him tickles your ears, and it makes you sensitively shudder on top of the bed. “See why I’m doing it this way now? Pretty little masochists like you deserve to be surprised, and you don’t get the chance to let your mind get the better of you.”

A sharp zap of static electricity races down your spine, pussy clenching uncomfortably tight as you fitfully squeeze your thighs together. “Is … is it going to hurt, sir?”

Softly cooing at you, Wriothesley carefully places his hand across your stomach and rubs comforting circles over you for a moment. “Ooh, isn’t that a precious question for you to ask me? And in such a soft little voice too … you’re really testing my self control over here, you know that?”

You bite down on your lip, not quite trusting yourself to speak anymore, and he gives you one final, affectionate pat before pulling away. The loss of his touch leaves you shuddering there on the bed but thankfully it doesn’t take long for him to come back. You’re a bit surprised when he nudges himself right up against your side and goosebumps promptly erupt over your skin at the sensation of his now bare thigh on your hip. He doesn’t completely straddle you though, slight uncertainty creeping in when he merely grabs your bound hands and then presses them up above your head to pin against the mattress. Letting out a tiny mewl of confusion, you weakly twist against his hold but it’s no use. You’re trapped.

“Shall I give you a moment to struggle and realize you’re helpless like this,” He drawls in a tone laced with leather suggestion. “Or are you going to take my word for it?”

You try to speak but nothing comes out. Swallowing your nerves hard enough it almost makes you gag, you have to force your tongue to formulate the words. “I believe you.” It’s little more than a mouse squeak but he hums in clear approval.

“Good girl. Now, for this I want you to keep still for me, alright? You’re allowed to squeal or cry, or anything else you want, but you need to stay in one place. Do you understand me?”

“Y - … yes, sir.”

Wriothesley shifts over top of you, whispering soft praise while he does it, and you just manage to make out a soft rattle of … metal? It sounded a bit like a dainty chain of some sort but, other than the ones on his usual outfit, you had no idea what it could be. Even trying to tip your head all the way back to peer under the blindfold doesn’t give you so much as a glimpse and you have to fight against the urge to click your tongue. A part of you almost wanted to tell him this wasn’t necessary anymore, that he had you so soaking wet and in need of friction on your leaking cunt that you would have done anything at all to get it but — before you can even think to say it, you feel him reach for your breast.

You instinctively stiffen up, expecting pain, but you’re not sure what it is exactly that you’re bracing for. Would it be soft at first like when he’d spanked you with his belt or immediate and blistering like his hand usually was?

The answer comes in the form of something — something hard and unrelenting, and cool to the touch — slowly coming down around your nipple. At first you’re only vaguely aware of it but it quickly ratchets up in intensity the more it closes down. Your mouth drops open as if to scream yet nothing comes out. You don’t even seem to remember how to breathe as you feel it gradually pinch the stiff teat tighter and tighter, and somehow even tighter until … at last, he pulls his hand back. But the crushing force around your nipple stays. It’s blindingly intense and your mind immediately blanks out with the onset of pain. Embarrassingly enough, you squeal.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” Wriothesley murmurs, barely heard over the deafening pound in your ears. You shake so hard it makes the stinging tip of your breast hurt even worse, prompting you to twist against him in earnest now, but he all too easily keeps your hands pinned above your head. “It’s a lot all at once, isn’t it? Just give yourself a moment to process. There you go. Deep breaths … you’re being such a good girl for me tonight, wearing my pretty little toys on your pretty tits. Now I really do wish I had a kamera.”

You suck in a sharp, seething breath. Toys? Suddenly that conversation in the fortress comes crashing back to you, and it makes you shudder at the memory of kneeling on the lounge in his office, naked from the waist down and getting your bottom spanked. The thought alone almost seems to send you over the edge, and you pitifully try to grind your obscenely drooling cunt down on the bed for even a modicum of relief. So this was one of those clamps he was telling you about, then. You think you might like to see it but … maybe you weren’t quite brave enough for that just yet.

“Still with me, little miss?”

“Oh — ooohhnn … Wriothesley, I - -“

“Do you think you need to tap out?”

Your mouth moves but nothing comes out. Finally you settle on a stilted shake of your head.

“Alright. Don’t worry about trying to talk right now unless you need to tell me you want a break. I’m sure it’s probably pretty damn hard for you to even think right now, isn’t it?”

You nod this time, whimpering softly at the note of humor in his voice. Of course you were well aware of his borderline sadistic tendencies, the perfect compliment to your own, evidently masochistic ones, but somehow you hadn’t expected him to enjoy it this much.

No, maybe that wasn’t quite right.

It was more like you hadn’t realized just how deep your own depravity ran, and so you’d underestimated his too. You hadn’t been able to even conceive of anything beyond the belt let alone whatever this was, even when he explained it to you, and you almost felt a little foolish in retrospect. Of course there was more beyond just spanking you and bossing you around that he would like.

Pulled back into the moment by his rough worn palm smoothing over your ribcage, you force your lungs to expand on a painfully deep breath. He softly coos at you, encouraging you to keep taking slow inhales as his hand retreats from you again. You feel the clamp on your sore teat nudge slightly to accompany the quiet jangle of metal and you quickly put two and two together. There was a chain connecting the two pieces. But if he clamped both tits and then tugged on it then —

“Ooh!” It blurts out of you in a sudden rush and he pauses somewhere above you, hovering for a moment.

“If you can’t keep yourself still I’ll have to actually tie you down to the bed. Not that I don’t think you’d enjoy it, but I figured you would appreciate having more freedom of movement for this. Trust me when I say you don’t want me to catch you wrong, though. That’ll hurt way worse.”

Wheezing, you force yourself to stop squirming even though it takes every ounce of self control you have, especially when you feel him reach for the other breast. Somehow the dulling pain in the first made the anticipation of the second so, so much more worse, and you clench your teeth as the pincers slowly start to come down on delicate skin. Same as before, he goes slow with it to give you enough time to adjust and brace against it, but that also makes it so you’re forced to feel each bit of pressure as it’s gradually applied in stunning high definition. Toes flexing tight enough to hurt, you wait until he pulls away and leaves the clamp stuck to your breast before writhing in place as sedately as you can manage.

You felt truly wild with it but the constant, squeezing pinch on both nipples kept you somewhat grounded for fear of pulling on them and causing even more discomfort. The worst part of all, though, was the fact you’d never been wetter in all your life. Even taking into account at least some of the mess between your legs was lingering saliva from earlier, that still didn’t account for the sheer flood of arousal making your cunt feel sticky and almost obscenely juicy.

Distantly, you realize that you really were on the verge of begging him just to stuff you full without any concern for your previous worries about being able to take him. You knew you could. You just knew it, beyond a shadow of a doubt now.

“Aren't you the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen?” Wriothesley murmurs, pulling you just a bit more out of your reeling stupor when he smooths his big hand up your fluttering stomach. “I don’t even have to ask if you’re enjoying this. I can tell you are by the way you keep trying to grind that sweet pussy on the bed. It’s not working though, is it? Poor thing … you need some real attention between your legs now, don’t you?”

You nod your head slowly, hissing faintly when his fingertips brush the chain and jostle the clamps just enough to make fresh stabs of hurt go through your tits. He coos at you and lightly, tauntingly, gives the metal link a purposeful nudge to make the attached pincers pull, and you really start to think you’re going to lose it.

“P - please, sir, please … I’m — ooohhh, I’m begging!”

“And what are you begging for, little miss? Can you tell me?”

“I … I want …” Choking down a lungful of air, you tip your face down as if to look at yourself but of course it doesn’t work. You’d never felt quite so … powerless before, and it was overwhelmingly amazing. Potent in the worst possible way. “I want it — in my pussy, sir, please!”

“Oho, that’s mighty crass coming from you, pretty girl. I was starting to wonder if I’d ever break you down enough to make you talk like that.” He chuckles softly at your mewling whimper, dragging his hand back down the length of your body. You go stock still, though, when he dips between your legs and, sure enough, you’re so thoroughly coated in slick that his fingers just wetly slide over your folds. “Is this where you want it? Come on, use your words for me.”

“Y - yes, sir. I want it there. Please. I’m begging.”

“And you’re doing such a good job. But what do you want specifically? My fingers?”

You shudder violently when his digits curl back to tease at your entrance, just flirting with the suggestion but not actually breaching you. “Ohh … no, no, not that, sir, please.”

“Hm? Could it be you want my mouth on you again? Greedy girl. Do you want to sit on my face that badly?”

Quietly seething, you shake your head. “Please, sir, I … I want — I want your cock, sir. I - in my pussy, please. I need it.”

He breathes out a low, rumbling groan to that. “You need it? Well, then of course you’ll have it. Good girls who tell me what they want only have to ask once, you know.”

You feel him lean over you then, getting close, and a tremulous smile pulls at your mouth seconds before he kisses you, slow and deliberate. Your chest heaves in excitement as much as at the steady thrill of pain coursing through your system, and you eagerly try to follow him when he pulls back a moment later.

“I’m going to let go of your hands and I want you to carefully sit up, alright? Mind you don’t catch your pretty little chain on anything. Understood?”

“Yes, sir …”

Another brief kiss pressed to your mouth seals the deal, and then Wriothesley is sitting back to give you some small amount of space. You feel his presence right next to you though, and you find a great deal of comfort in that as you gingerly sit upright with the help of his steady hands. Gently he turns you towards him so he can half lift, half drag you into his lap. The motion jostles the clamps, making you mewl like something small and wounded, but he gets you settled against him quickly enough that the shuddering chain stills again. You have to remind yourself to keep breathing as he carefully nudges further back onto the bed until you seem to be situated somewhere in the middle. Then, you feel him lay out underneath you and you brace your hands against his firm stomach to help balance your weight.

You were a little surprised though, if you were being honest. Quite surprised, in fact.

“You won’t be on top, sir?”

“Not this time, sweetness. I figured it would make you feel better about taking me if you could control the depth and the speed you want to go at. Oh, don’t make that face. Even blindfolded I can tell you’re thinking about calling me a big oaf again.” Laughing quietly, a bit thickly, he reaches up to squeeze your hips in both hands and then reaches further back to grab your ass.

Swat! Swat! In quick succession, one cheek and then the other, to leave you swaying dizzily on his hips. You were almost too stunned to react.

“Oooh …”

“I believe you’re still due for a spanking anyway, and I can’t very well take care of your bottom if I’m on top, can I?” At your seething nod, he squeezes the swell of one cheek and gives it a solid jostle. “That’s what I thought. You love getting your ass spanked, don’t you lovely girl?”

“Yes, sir, I … I do. But,” You lick your lips, gathering your courage. “Is this a punishment, or … maintenance?”

“Hm, I was actually thinking this one would just be for pleasure. Why? Do you think you need one or the other?”

You consider that for a long stretch, a very difficult task when your nipples were burning sore and aching every time the clamps so much as shifted with you. It felt amazing, but it was also making it nigh impossible to think straight. “Maintenance, sir. I think.”

“Then that is what you will have.” Swat! To make you lurch and shiver on top of him. “Thank me for spanking your ass, pretty girl. Let me hear you.”

Whining low in your throat, you arch and impotently grind your soaked cunt down on his stomach. “Nnghn, thank you, sir! Thank you! Can — can I have your cock now?”

Growling so heavily it seems to bleed from him straight into you, Wriothesley’s fingers dig into your hips and scoot you down a little further until you feel the distinct brush of coarse pubic hair touch your inner thigh. Your throbbing cunt positively clenches as you gladly let him tip your pelvis forward until you're half laying on top of him, even when it makes the chain attached to your nipples pool across his skin. One hand drags up to clutch your waist, squeezing the love handles there, while the other reaches back to give you another hard swat across the ass cheek.

“Eek! T - thank you, sir!”

The next slap doesn’t come. Instead you feel the head of his cock nudge up against you from behind, guided by his hand, and you go ramrod stiff on top of him. Your mouth slowly drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out while he tauntingly draws himself over your folds, bumping your clit on occasion and mostly just teasing your drenched entrance. The muscle squeezes each time he gets close, trying to pull him in, but he seems content to take his time with it. Up and down, up and down — it was driving you mad, and you plaintively rear back in your desperation.

“P - pleeeaase, I want it!”

“Then take it, little miss. Help yourself.”

His cock abruptly stills, pressed right against your squeezing hole, but it doesn’t push up. It doesn’t move. Just sits there, waiting, and you pitifully groan when you realize what he’s doing. With a weak little mewl, you clench your hands where they’re braced on his stomach and carefully, hesitantly start to ease back. Your heart slams a deafening beat in your ears, but all you can seem to focus on is the slow pressure of your body taking him in. It’s stilted and gradual in this position with you at the helm, and yet you’re so incredibly wet that there’s not much resistance to show for it.

The glans is smooth and fleshy as it penetrates your cunt, sliding right into place within you. You’re immediately aware of how very warm he is, how smooth, and you suck in a thin breath to steady yourself before sinking further down. Inch by excruciating inch, he slips into the tight sleeve of your pussy and stretches you open around him in the process. It doesn’t take long for you to start feeling full, and you have to pause to steady your nerves when it’s only a third of the way in.

“God, you feel amazing,” Wriothesley practically gasps, his voice so thick and strained he sounds genuinely distressed in your cotton stuffed mind. The hand on your waist just squeezes tighter, clutching you like he was afraid you might disappear. “Go at your own pace, baby. Fuck yourself on me just like that and work your way up to it.”

The dangling chain on your tits clatters softly and drags over his abdomen when you gingerly angle your hips up and then press them back down. Even for as subdued as the downward thrust is, it still has you moaning at how good he feels penetrating you. So you do it again, ever so slowly rocking your heaving body against the cock behind you until you find a steady rhythm. You weren’t sure how much of him you were actually taking yet, but you knew you already felt stuffed. He was thick and heavy, and the delicious glide of skin just makes you even hungrier for more.

Mindless with your need, you pull him in a little deeper on the next slow motion plunge, and Wriothesley outright seethes underneath you.

“Ohh, that’s it, sweetheart, just like that. You look so good stretching out that pretty pussy on my cock … and your tits — bless the seven, I knew you’d love my toys. Your nipples were made for this, weren’t they?”

You start to nod your head, so focused on grinding your cunt over him that you aren’t really sure what you’re agreeing with. It doesn’t seem to really matter though. Wriothesley lets go of your hip so he can reach up and give the chain a taunting tug but the pressure on your poor teats was so great that it makes you shriek as if he’d struck you full force. The discomfort is so sharp and blinding your hips falter, and you sink even further down on his length when you give a subconscious jerk. Your cunt suddenly feels ten times more full, a feat you hadn’t thought possible, and for a moment you just freeze on top of him.

It was all you could do just to keep drawing air into your lungs. You felt like you were going to implode in the most literal sense.

But, evidently, you had enough of him sheathed inside you that he could remove his hand now, and he reaches up to swat your ass again. “Do you even realize how much you’re squeezing me right now? And you just keep getting tighter every time I spank you or pull on your tits … who would have ever thought such a sweet girl could be this much of a masochist?”

Chest heaving, you fitfully turn your head this way and that as if seeking him out through the blindfold. “Please, sir, oh gods above, please move!”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to, trust me — shit, it’s taking everything I have not to slam myself balls deep in you right this second. But I want you to do this by yourself first. Can you do that for me?”

You whine and shake, legs trembling from the effort of holding your cunt in place when you wanted nothing more than to bury him inside you straight down to the hilt. He was so big that it was still overwhelming though, especially when your mind was positively drowning in the absolute rush of sensation assaulting you all at once. The warm handprints on your ass, the clamps on your tits, the soft silk binding your wrists together and the one around your eyes, the sheer presence of him sitting inside your body.

Weakly, you sink down another inch and let out a frantic, keening sound of pleasure.

“Oooh, good girl. You’re almost there. Just another push and you’ll be sitting on my cock.”

It’s almost alarming to hear that there’s still more of him to take, but after having it shoved almost down your throat you had a pretty good grasp on his size. You could tell you were almost down to the widest part now just by the nearly obscene stretch of your cunt lips around him, and you take a moment just to grind yourself with the faltering motions of your hips. It didn’t hurt, nor was it uncomfortable, it was just — a lot to process all at once. A big hurdle.

But just like every other time he’s pushed you right to the limit, Wriothesley remains a steady, comforting presence underneath you. His soft praise continues to rain over you even while he pinches the meat of your ass hard enough to make your toes curl, or he nudges the chain to rattle your nipple clamps. It really is too much and, feeling delirious with it, you finally relax your legs and allow your weight to sink you down the rest of the way until you’re at last firmly seated on his cock.

You feel so horribly stretched out and full that you just sit there, twitching on top of him, while Wriothesley groans low in his throat. His hips shudder with the instinctive urge and masculine drive to thrust up, to lose himself in the tight wet warmth of your cunt, but he refrains. Even when it’s obviously taking every ounce of willpower he possesses, he still waits for you to get your bearings straight and suck in a haggard gasp.

“Wriothesley, please …”

“Shh. I’ve got you, pretty girl.” He sounds almost as flustered as you do now, and you groan very softly when he smooths those big palms over your ribs again. “You did so well. Are you ready for me to move?”

“Yes, sir.”

Drawing a slow breath to steady himself, he drags his hands down to hold your hips instead. You feel him shift under you, jostling you slightly, and you think he must be adjusting his feet where they’re braced on the bed. That’s the last semi coherent thought you have, because he rolls his hips up in the next moment and the pressure inside you doubles, triples, leaves you choking on the blinding sensation of his cock pressing so deep you can practically taste it on the back of your tongue. All you can do is cry out in blissful agony as he gradually falls into a rhythm, just grinding up into your pulpy cunt for a long moment until you start to feel well and truly faint.

Then, his own heaving groans increasing with it, Wriothesley starts to carefully thrust in and out of you, somewhat sedately at first but it quickly starts to pick up speed. The force of his flexing hips driving into you rocks you and, with it, so does the chain start to bounce and pull on your tits. Your already frantic sounds of pleasure soon take on a dire tinge, everything almost too much for you to process in that moment. You felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces. He was breaking you, splitting you straight down the middle, and - -

Swat!

The sting of his hand across your ass immediately grounds you, startles you out of your own head, and you lurch on top of him.

“Ooh! God! W - Wriothesley!”

He grunts somewhere seemingly far below you, driving his cock through your squeezing passage a little harder. A little faster. “How’s it feel, pretty girl? Nnghhn … you like how that cock feels deep in your pussy?”

“I love it!”

Noising a rumbling sound of satisfaction, he slaps your bouncing ass again, and stars erupt across your eyes. “I knew you would. I told you, didn’t I? I’m going to make sure you’re well taken care of no matter what … oohhnn, yeah, squeeze me tighter, little miss. That’s it. Are you about to cum for me?”

You jerk your head in a quick nod, unable to find your voice when it felt like the pressure inside you was starting to collapse in on itself. There was too much of it. Too much stimuli, too many different sensations. Pleasure and pain so horribly intermingled that you couldn’t even tell what was what anymore. Your nipples were screaming in agony, but it felt so good you could have sobbed. His cock was easily the most pleasure inducing of all, but the way it forces your clenching muscles open again and again, and again made it toe the line of discomfort. His hand - -

Swat!

“Come on, pretty girl. Cum for me.”

You’re completely blindsided when you do just that.

Your pussy spasms on the drop of a coin, sending you into a wild fit of convulsions. You mindlessly shriek and dig your nails into his hard stomach, desperately trying to steady yourself before you can vibrate right off him. But the waves of crashing ecstasy just keep coming, over and over, rocking you straight to the marrow of your bones. Wriothesley hisses at the sensation of your body wildly trying to milk him but he keeps fucking you through it, persistent even now. All you can do is hold on for dear life, and quake so hard the bed rattles from the force.

“Oh, fuck,” He pants when you finally start to come down from it some moments later, and the uncontrollable tremors working through your shuddering frame begin to ease up into sensitive twitching. His thrusts gradually slow as well to leave you wheezing on top of him, your cunt weakly palpitating around him where he remains wedged inside you.

It was … by and far, the most amazing experience of your life, and you practically collapse into his arms when he reaches up to tug you close. You would have been perfectly content to snuggle up against his chest right then and there, but the clamps tug at your breasts to make you whine.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Come here, let’s get these off you.” As gentle as can be, Wriothesley gathers you close with one hand curled around your back while the other reaches for one of your tits. “Fair warning, this is going to hurt. I want you to breathe through it, okay?”

At your bubbling nod, you feel him take the clamp in his fingers and — your mouth promptly drops open to scream when the metal pincers start to retract. All that comes out is a hurt, tiny little mewl of pain though, and he issues a faltering sigh when your pussy clenches around him tight. You can feel the skin sticking to the merciless contraption as he steadily pulls it loose, and you really do sob when all that’s left in the wake of it is a fiercely buzzing ache.

He’s quick to soothe you though, carefully taking the abused bud between his fingers to lightly work out some of the hurt. It’s bad enough to make you seethe, but you can’t quite ignore the way your cunt positively throbs around him. You had no idea what it said about you as a person but you did indeed like it.

Quite a lot, in fact.

“Oh, little miss. Look at you. Your poor nipple really hurts, doesn’t it?” Laughing softly at your stilted nod, he leans up to press a quick kiss to your mouth. “I’d tell you I’m sorry for it but I can tell just how much you like it by the way you keep squeezing me …”

“The other one.” You whimper, dreading it almost as much as you would be glad to have it off.

It seemed like the reverse of having them put on, and now that you were anticipating the agony of the second it made it so incredibly tortuous. But he obliges you, reaching to the other side and … you can’t quite stop yourself from squealing this time, helplessly twisting against him.

“There.” He huffs, tossing the clamps aside to hit the bed somewhere before bringing his hands up to fiddle with the knot behind your head. “I’m going to take this off as well but make sure you give your eyes a moment to adjust, alright?”

You almost think it’s a little silly, for him to be taking care of you like this when he was still sitting hot and heavy, and rock hard inside you but you can’t quite find it in yourself to be upset about it right now. The red silk slips away, and you squeeze your eyes shut against the glare of the light. Wriothesley takes the moment to kiss over your face, paying special attention to your eyelashes where they flutter against your cheeks, and you nearly find yourself drifting off from how very comfortable it is. Nice, and intimate.

But you eventually crack your eyes open and peer up at him, struck by how darkly handsome and enticing he looks in that moment. All ruffled and coated in a fine sheen of sweat, the hunger you still see reflected in his eyes attesting to how badly he wanted to rut up into your pussy but … he doesn’t. Not yet. He just fixes you with that vaguely secretive smile and brushes some of the hair back from your face.

“You look quite pleased,” He murmurs, clearly proud of himself and the mess he’s made of you.

“Aren’t you going to finish?” You whisper as you pointedly rock back against his cock, making him suck in a deep, savory breath.

“I planned on it, you little minx. I just wanted to check in on you first.” Bringing his hand down, he cups the side of your face and just studies you for a long moment. “Would you like to have your hands untied as well?”

“Yes, sir.”

You smile to yourself as he works on getting the knot loose with practiced motions. He’d clearly done this before, many times if you had to take a guess, and suddenly your curiosity couldn’t wait any longer. “Where did you learn about all this stuff?”

“Hm? I told you I got sent to prison.”

“Yes, but,” You frown at that. “What does it have to do with this?”

Wriothesley sends you a meaningful look as the tie comes loose, and he gently rubs over your wrists to smooth out any of the ache there. “Well, I was a teenager, for starters. All kinds of hormones and physical changes going on, and with the crowd that ends up in Meropide I’m sure you can imagine how easily I fell into certain … circles.”

“Oh.” You blink at that, not sure if you should be horrified by that news or not, but he just laughs at the dawning look on your face.

“It’s nothing to worry your pretty little head about. I didn’t participate much at first. Mostly just watched and observed, and learned. It was all very interesting to me at the time, as I’m sure you can imagine, and it wasn’t until much later when I actually found someone to play with. Someone who liked to be in charge as much as she enjoyed getting pushed around, so I got the best of both worlds.”

You sit up a little straighter, wide eyed gaze fixed on his face. “You let someone … do to you what you do to me?”

Wrapping his arms around you now, Wriothesley gathers you close to his chest, looking at you from just a scant few inches away as he settles back against the bed and gets comfortable. “Yes, but I quickly found that I much preferred being in the dominant role. Unlike you, pretty girl, I don’t get very much out of receiving pain … but I certainly enjoy inflicting it.”

Squirming when he pinches at your side, you give his thick arm a quick smack. “Stop that. This is a serious conversation!” An almost ironic thing to say when he was still pulsing inside you but, to your relief, he immediately sobers. “Is … is she still at the prison?”

“No, her sentence ended long before I even became the duke of the fortress and she returned to the surface. And before you ask, I never tried to look for her. There wasn’t ever any reason to. She was just someone to kill time with. The thought of spending any meaningful time with her beyond venting our frustrations and pent up energy on each other didn't so much as cross my mind. Nothing like you. I’d scour every corner of this world without rest just to get you back if we were ever separated like that.”

You can’t help but warm for him, and you happily accept the kiss he leans up to plant on your mouth. It’s a brief exchange though, just enough to have you signing in contentment against him, and then he’s pulling back. The shift in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed, and you’re not at all surprised when he drags those big calloused palms lower to squeeze your ass.

“I think I still owe you a few more spankings … think you’re ready for the rest?”

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, sinking into the comforting warmth of his body as he slowly angles his hips back to drag his cock through your guts. The zap of friction has your toes curling again, but you knew you were well past the point of satiation and would not be finding a third release tonight.

You’re not particularly bothered by that after everything he’d already given you though, so you just lay there across him, leisurely kissing him while he fucks up into you at a tortuously stilted pace. In and out, in and out, just rocking you gently until you think you might doze off and —

Swat!

“Oh!” You give a little jolt, delighting in the spreading warmth across your ass. The dull, aching throbs of your sore nipples and the vague thrum deep in your cunt. You were undoubtedly going to be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t really care. “Mm, thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome, little miss.” He says softly, tipping his head back against the sheets to groan. “You really do have the sweetest pussy … you’re still gripping me so well even after two orgasms.”

Swat! This time accompanied by a tight, squeezing pinch and a rough jostle.

“Nnghn … thank you, sir.”

It’s easy to get lost in it, that intimate, swimming daze floating around you while he fucks you and slaps your bottom red. He never quite picks up the same speed or intensity as he did earlier, and you soon realize that this was entirely for him now. Wriothesley was just enjoying the feel of you wrapped around him, clenching his cock, the soft, wet little clicks he pulls from between your legs as they echo off the walls. It was beyond intoxicating, and you quickly succumb to the hard sting of his hand, just as you always did.

Swat!

“Thank you, sir … oooh … Wriothesley - -“ You cut off with a sharp gasp when the next swing lands, jiggling the meat of your behind from the impact.

“What is it, pretty girl? Don’t tell me you’re ready for round three?” He laughs, low and very close to being breathless.

“No, it’s not that …” A hot, faltering groan slips out of you the next time his cock pushes inside you, and you weakly push up to brace your arms against his broad barrel chest so you can look at him. “I … I just wanted to say … I love you, too.”

A flash of genuine surprise crosses his face, but it’s almost immediately overshadowed by the deep pleasure that settles into place just a second later. “Oh, fuck, baby, why did you say that right now?”

Sensitively gasping, he wraps stiff arms around your body and practically flattens you against him. The rhythm of his thrusts turns messy, no longer smooth and certain, but a bit jerky and uneven now, as if his need to cum had ratcheted far beyond the point of him being able to temper it. He presses his mouth against the top of your head, his breathing turning ragged and quick while he just holds you like that, so thoroughly pinned against the front of him you couldn’t have pulled away even if you’d tried.

You let out a mewling whine when you feel him shudder underneath you, his frame so tense and halting that it almost reignites your own arousal. You’re sure you know what’s coming, but it still surprises you slightly how much he huffs and puffs into your hair at the onset of his release.

“Oooh, gods above … I’m going to cum, sweetheart. I’m going to cum deep inside that tight pussy, okay? Will you let me?”

“Of course, Wriothesley.” You whimper softly, clutching at his tense shoulders. “You don’t have to ask. Cum in me as much as you want.”

He outright seethes at that, hips bucking uncontrollably now. His cock pulses inside you and then twitches, pressing in against your upper wall hard enough to pull a moan out of you, and then it gives a muted little jerk. You can’t help but gasp at the hot, spreading sensation that immediately follows, your pussy fluttering around him as much as the pooling warmth that seems to bleed deep into you. He lets out a final, heaving grunt of deep, masculine pleasure, and then he stills, holding himself through the shuddering tail end of his release while he pumps everything he’s got into your waiting clutch. You sway on top of him, a bit blindsided by how … good it actually felt to have his seed coating your guts in a thick, goopy mess.

You weren’t so sure about the clean up just yet but this you could certainly get used to.

At length, Wriothesley finally goes slack under you with a rumbling sigh and his arms loosen enough for you to push yourself up to look at him again. He looks like he’s still recovering, blue eyes distant and almost dreamy, and yet he still manages to give you one of those lazy, secretive little smiles.

“I think you’re probably going to regret that.”

“Regret what?”

“Giving me permission to cum inside you as much as I want.” Sighing, he carefully gathers you up again and rolls you over onto your side. You give a soft squeak when his softening cock slips free at the motion, but he’s snuggling up close to you before you can complain about needing to get a rag. In fact, you promptly forget all about it as he half curls his much bigger body around yours and gets comfortable, settling his face inches from yours on the sheets. “Putting my poor sense of humor aside … thank you, sweet girl. You’re much too kind to me and so much more than I could have ever hoped myself worthy of.”

You can’t help but laugh as you bring your hand up to brush some of the hair back off his sweat dampened forehead. He looked surprisingly handsome like that, you were a bit surprised to find. Almost dashing. “Don’t say that … especially when I was just thinking the same thing of you. I know it’s been a rocky road but … but I really am glad I was able to meet you in this life, Wriothesley.”

“I am too.” He murmurs, leaning in to press his mouth to yours in a slow, savory kiss. You practically melt into him at the stilted press and pull of his mouth, carding your hand back through his hair, and you can’t help but softly whine when he retreats a moment later. “By the way, I almost forgot. I have a surprise for you.”

Your brows knit in confusion. “What kind of surprise?”

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” He chuckles, brushing another kiss over your lips. “We can go pick it up together tomorrow, if you’d like. I made the arrangements right after the fundraiser, but with everything going on I just didn’t get the chance to tell you.”

There was no denying that you were a bit suspicious of it, but you find yourself smiling anyway. “Alright … do I at least get a hint?”

“Not even a little one.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

One week later …

“Oh my goodness, isn’t he just the most precious thing you’ve ever seen?” Furina squeals and titters, cooing over the dozing bundle in your arms with so much enthusiasm that a few of the cafe staff members actually stop to glance over. You didn’t really mind it though. You’d had much the same reaction the first time you laid eyes on him, and sometimes you still did. It was exceedingly hard not to, if you were being honest.

Even now when you turn your attention down to look at the furry little face blearily staring back at you, almost too tired to keep his eyes open, you feel a strangely intense flood of emotions rush through your chest. You aren’t quite sure what it is, exactly, but you know it’s something not unlike love. Tumultuous but calming at the same time. Peaceful, and yet frighteningly daunting.

You think, idly, this might be how parents feel about their children. A love unconditional and so, so overwhelming it almost brings you to tears at least once a day. If you hadn’t been navigating this unexpected journey with Wriothesley right at your side you were certain you would have been a right and proper mess.

“He’s a very good boy.” You tell her in full confidence. Even barring the occasional accident or behavioral correction, he’d been nothing but a sweet angel since you’d brought him home. “I was a bit worried he’d like Wriothesley more than me since he’s so … you know. Big and in charge of everything, but he actually sticks to me like glue. I can’t even use the bathroom without him sitting outside the door crying.”

Furina looks like she just might start crying too. “That is so stinking cute! Oh, I really am jealous! What sort of dog is he?”

You turn a little sheepish at that. “A mastiff.”

Her eyes go so big and wide you’re a bit worried they’re going to pop right out of her head and roll across the table.

“But that’s so — large! Aren’t you worried about him … I don’t know, pushing you around when he’s older?”

Shaking your head, you reach down to fiddle with an oversized black paw. The puppy just lets you do it without even a huff of protest, his arm perfectly boneless and pliable under your fingers. “Wriothesley said these guys are big, giant babies but very protective. He told me if he ever wasn’t around and someone tried to mess with me, this little guy here would rip them apart … and I’m not so sure he was joking about that.”

Furina shoots a cautious look at the lounging dog, but quickly recovers her usual bluster. “Well, I am very happy for the two of you and I will be sending you a gift basket in the coming days to celebrate this adorable addition to your family!”

You falter at that, turning a wide eyed look on her. “Is that really necessary, Lady Furina? I don’t want to put you out or anything …”

“Of course it is! Things like this deserve to be celebrated, don’t you think?” Reaching over, she softly tickles the pup’s exposed belly and he gives his leg a lazy kick in response, much to her giggling delight. “Ohh, I really can’t help but feel a bit envious though. I wonder how mad Neuvillette would be if I suddenly brought home a puppy …”

Spotting your chance, you eagerly jump on it. “Speaking of, Lady Furina, I meant to ask you about that.”

She jerks her attention up at you, cheeks coloring a charming shade of pink. “Wh — ask me about what, dear peach? S - surely you don’t suspect me of anything?”

If you didn’t already, you certainly would have now.

Grinning, you secretively bend your head close to hers. The puppy Wriothesley got for you grumbles faintly between the two of you, unaccustomed to not being the center of attention now, but you and the Hydro Archon are too busy whispering amongst yourselves to give in to his huffy demands right that moment. Soon, you and Furina are laughing together, squealing softly over something one or the other has said. It was nice, and it was comfortable. Warm in the mid afternoon sun sitting out on the cafe patio with her.

And in the light, the ring Wriothesley put on your finger glitters blindingly for all to see.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The End

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #self insert bullshit

276 notes · View notes

maybege · 9 months

Note

Can I request Hotch for 45, 138, and 266 for the prompts? ❤️

Thank you!! :)

Big Dick Energy: The Sequel's Sequel

Summary: Hotch grants the team an extra night in Vegas and as luck would have it, you have to share a room.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, spitting, oral (m receiving), fingersucking, oral fixation, verbal degradation, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Prompts: #45 “I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + #138 “Were you just masturbating?” + #266 “I dare you to fuck____.”

Thank you so much for requesting these wonderful prompts! I know it has taken me way too long (1,5 years) but hey better late than never. I am so happy with how it turned out. Please do reblog and comment and let me know what you think! Shoutout goes out to @galacticgraffiti for getting me back on my Criminal Minds shit.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Sometimes miracles happen.

Like when that last little bit of coffee beans was enough for Rossi’s espresso and subsequently saved the entire office from having to endure his grumpy demeanour for the afternoon.

Or that time Spencer managed to fly his paper plane all across the BAU’s desks, only stopped by Chief Strauss walking in the line of fire.

Or when a case took you to Las Vegas and SSA Agent Hotchner agreed for you all to just stay a night longer. Like, in Vegas. For free. For work.

You knew the suggestion had been meant as a joke by Derek but as soon as Hotch had actually agreed to it, no one protested and you made the unilateral silent decision to just run with it. Who were you to look a gifted horse in the mouth?

Still, you knew you were all thinking the same thing.

“Drugs!” Penelope exclaimed in her room, colourful bracelets dangling from her wrist, “There is no other way. He is taking drugs.”

“I doubt Hotch is taking drugs, Penelope,” JJ said calmly, though she did not look quite as certain as one would assume. The blonde woman was sitting cross-legged on the large bed, shoes thrown somewhere in the corner. “After all these hard cases, I am sure he just wants to give us a reprieve from everything.”

“Hotch never gives us a reprieve,” Garcia gasped, sounding like she had just run a marathon only to find out there we still a few miles to go, “What if this is all an elaborate plan to have me be workplace inappropriate on the record and Strauss can finally order that evaluation that she has been holding over my head since the coffee incident?”

You smiled, amused at her nervous antics, and – to be honest – to keep you from defending him. Hotch had found a very soft spot in your heart. A spot too soft for a man that was supposed to be your boss and nothing but your boss. Though it had been a long time since he had been only your boss. Ever since the plane, ever since the changing room, you could not deny that there was tension between you two. And not the kind of tension where he looked like he would fire you at any moment. No, the kind of tension where he looked like he was about to reach under your skirt and check if you wore that lingerie he had bought for you (and fucked you in).

You had had the hope that after your latest encounter, you would have more chances to … well, to have Aaron Hotchner fuck you. But there was always something and when days had turned into weeks had turned into months, doubt started to creep in whether he actually wanted anything from you. Maybe he had just been out for a quick fuck and that was it?

And all of that did not get any easier with the fact that you were working together. That he was your boss. That your colleagues were the best profilers in the country.

So, you had to take great care in remaining as neutral about him as possible and part of that involved focusing more on the sheer panic that Garcia exuded when she was outside of her office rather than your desire to protect him from any doubts just because he wanted to do something nice for the team.

A glance at the woman on your right, leaning against the doorway, showed you that Emily Prentiss was thinking the exact same thing. “Are you sure this has to do with Hotch’s unusual behaviour or the fact that you feel uneasy in the field?”

“Alright, alright, maybe I am,” she pressed a hand to her chest, “A little nervous at being here but you cannot deny that this feels like a trap! You know how I get around Morgan when I’ve had a few drinks.”

“You don’t need drinks to act that way around him,” JJ interjected, “And I think that is what you are so worried about.”

“What if I do something I can never take back?” Garcia asked, despair and

“Well that depends on if you would even want to take it back,” Emily shrugged, “Because from where I stand there is nothing Derek wouldn’t want you to do to him.”

A hot pink pillow flew in her direction. “Hey!”

A knock on the door snapped you out of your conversation and you turned around to find none other than the man that plagued your dreams day and night standing in the doorway. He looked serious, his brows furrowed – with a bright pink pillow in his hands.

“I am sorry to interrupt what I am sure is a very riveting discussion,” your boss said, looking directly at you, “But we have a problem with the rooms. Could you come down to reception with me?”

“Uh,” you said, “Sure.”

You stepped out of the room. Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat and you cursed yourself for not having changed since coming back from the station. (As if Hotch ever paid attention to your outfits.)

Walking down the corridor, neither one of you said anything but as you waited for the elevator, his hand landed on the low of your back. It was a light touch, nothing to lose your mind over. But your breath hitched anyway, thinking of all the other ways he had touched you before. You glanced up at him, noticing how the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest bit.

He had noticed!

You were not sure what weighed more. Your exasperation or your embarrassment at having been caught. But Hotch did not leave you because his hand guided you in the elevator. For a second, you wondered if he would press the emergency button like in the shows and press you against the wall and kiss you breathless.

He did not.

“What, uh, what is the problem?” you asked, finally feeling sure enough to speak.

“Extending everyone’s rooms for another night did not go as smoothly as possible,” he explained, his voice flat, “A few of us need to room together.”

“Oh,” you said, the wheels in your head turning. Because –

“Everybody else is already rooming together,” he said what you were thinking, “They have one other room available but I need your approval,” he paused for a second, “your consent.”

The hotel you stayed in was right by the strip, the ground floor a vast labyrinth of poker tables, arcade games and anything one could ever imagine being in a Vegas casino. As you passed the crowds of run-down partygoers, the smell of marijuana in the air, you could hear the rattling of the, the cheers of the winners and the groans of the losers.

Hotch’s hand did not leave your back.

It was reassuring in a way.

“Ah there you are again,” the lady said, sounding awfully cheerful at seeing him again. You shifted, trying to ignore the unpleasant pang in your chest area. If Hotch noticed her obvious attempt at flirting, he did not show it.

“I brought the colleague I would have to share the room with,” he stated, “Could you explain again what kind of room it would be?”

Have to, he said, have to.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and you pressed your lips together.

“Like I said before,” she explained, “We only have one free room tonight. It’s a little further than the other rooms in your booking but it is a king so it might be big enough to share.”

“It just might be,“ he replied, stoic as ever when he turned to you, his thumb brushing over the small of your back, “I doubt we will spend much time sleeping anyway. What do you think?“

You were convinced he knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t be saying these things and touching you like this if he didn’t. And yet, he looked at you so coolly, so very unbothered, that a small voice in your head wondered whether you were imagining it all.

Aaron Hotchner, divorced father of one, your boss and the last man to make you come, was driving you absolutely crazy.

“I’m game,” you said, sounding way too chipper and high-pitched for your own taste, “It won’t be too bad, I’m sure.”

You tried to ignore the way your stomach threw somersaults when he gave you that little half-smile that made his eyes crinkle. And yet when you saw that twinkle you knew that yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

Act normal. Act normal. Act fucking normal.

The hotel room you landed in was indeed almost at the other end of the hotel than your previous one, and quite a few floors up and your first thought at that revelation was that it would allow you to be as loud as you want without fear of your teammate hearing you.

How appropriate.

“Do you mind if I take the right side?”

You looked up, completely dumbfounded. Hotch stood by the bed already (and you tried your hardest not to think about what he would look like in that bed), his travel bag on the little armchair in the corner. It was kind of fitting, seeing how put together he looked even when he had the same 5 minutes to pack up his stuff as you did. But your travel bag was half-zipped closed, your clothes a wrinkled mess inside as you just threw everything inside in the hopes that it would survive the short journey until they could be unpacked again.

It was human, you knew, nothing out of the extraordinary. But next to Hotch who probably folded his underwear, you suddenly felt like you would never be able to reach him.

“Uh, no, not at all,” you murmured, walking to the side that was closer to the window. For a second you wondered if it hadn’t been about right or left but rather which side was closer to the door. But you shook that thought off as soon as it had appeared.

He didn’t say anything but started to unpack his things. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noted his neatly folded pyjamas (you could count the times you had seen him wear anything but a suit on one hand) and the little toiletry bag that was void of any water stains.

It was silent for a few moments as you sorted your own clothes, putting your crumpled-up pyjamas under your pillow, getting out your toiletries (one by one because that bag would look even more a mess next to his neatly organized one) and seeing what clothing items you had left that were not sweat- and/or blood-stained.

The selection was not the biggest.

In fact, it consisted of the clothes you were wearing now (only if you ) and a single pair of panties.

Great.

For a moment you contemplated enquiring about the hotel laundry service.

You knew the plan was to go out tonight and explore all the things the city had to offer (Reid mentioned a museum on the old gangsters of the city’s past but you had a sneaking suspicion that you would land in one bar or another). This was Vegas after all and you would be stupid not to take advantage of this unexpected vacation. But something about the thought of wearing your three-day-worn sweater in that heat made you hesitate.

Your phone dinged, finding a selfie with Garcia, JJ and Prentiss, all excitedly grinning into the camera.

Greatest Garcia: Let’s go shopping in Vegas! <3

And that is how your problem solved itself before it could really turn into a problem.

Dress shopping in Vegas made you feel like you were a different person altogether. Everything was full of glitter and soft fabrics and ideas of a life so different from your own. It gave you that little desire in the back of your head of wanting to play dress up, wanting to pretend to be a woman who was confident and sexy and could show up in bars and have heads turn towards her. You wanted

And so, it came that you put on the most revealing dress you had ever worn. It was incredibly short and incredibly glittery making you feel like you were “cosplaying a mirror ball” (Emily’s words, not yours). But not in a bad way.

On the contrary, when you had half of the BAU standing outside your changing room, whistling and cheering you on when you stepped outside, how could you not buy the dress that just barely covered your ass and was so very tight-fitting?

“You look stunning,” Garcia snapped her fingers, “You have to buy it! I don’t make the rules.”

Deep down you were not sure if the decision to buy the dress had been driven by your friends’ support or the few cocktails you had slurped during pre-game or perhaps the wishful thinking that a certain BAU chief would see you in this dress and decide to keep you in his bed all night long. Probably a little bit of everything.

You had been the first to find your dress which meant that you could spend the rest of the afternoon with your friends and watch them choose their outfits. JJ got a dark blue something that made her look absolutely gorgeous (Prentiss seemed to think so too if her appreciative over her (girl)friend’s figure was anything to go by) and Garcia found something that was even more colourful – something you had seriously doubted if it could be achieved.

By the end of the day, you were all sitting in the hotel lounge, shopping bags at your feet and cocktail glasses in your hands. You were the epitome of relaxation, the stress of the last few days finally wearing off you and you found yourself enjoying Garcia’s stories and Prentiss’ and JJ’s banter.

“Hey!”

You looked up, finding Reid standing at the edge of your little circle, looking as happy as ever to see you. Only he was not alone …

“Officer Greggs,” Prentiss was the first to speak, “What a surprise to you here. I thought for sure you were going to spend the day at the office today.”

Officer Greggs was on the police force you had assisted in your last case. He had led the case before your arrival and despite his age, had several people under his command. Rossi had described him as “surprisingly competent for a man his age” and Reid had bonded with him over his childhood in a city that was never really seen for its residential aspects. He was a nice man. Good-looking. Certainly your type if you had not been hopelessly in love with your boss.

“Yeah, we thought it might be a good idea to just let loose for the weekend,” the tall man explained, his hands in the pocket of his pants. He wore jeans and a green shirt, showing off the muscles in his arms. The way he said we let you know that it really hadn’t been his idea but that his colleagues had dragged him along.

Your lips quirked up. That reminded you of someone.

His dark eyes met yours in a light smile. “Who knows,” he said, smiling at you and no one else, “Maybe we see each other around.”

Seeing Aaron Hotchner step freshly out of the shower, wearing only his slacks and a white undershirt had your pussy clamping around nothing. You had not been prepared for this sight and it felt like an attack. It had to be.

His hair was a little damp still and you noticed he had shaved; his jaw was void of any stubble and it made you want to run your fingers along his jawline. He was looking down at something, a little furrow between his brows from concentration. You followed his gaze and regretted it instantly. His belt, you realized a little belatedly, he was fixing his belt. His veiny hands working with the buckles made you want to drop to your knees and beg him to take that belt off entirely.

He didn’t need it anyway. Not unless he wanted to tie you up.

You gulped.

When he looked up, his brows were furrowed still and you froze, afraid that if you moved it would betray how much you had been staring at him.

“What are you wearing?”

You could see his mouth move but you were not quite prepared to hear what he was actually saying. “What?”

“What are you wearing?” he asked, sounding like he was about to berate you in his office. You could not hide your frown.

You had literally just gotten ready, hurrying into your dress while he was safe inside the shower. And now he came out, looking like the half-god he was, and was criticizing your outfit?

The tinge of insecurity was overshadowed by a wave of frustration.

Was he really that displeased? Did he really have the audacity to talk to you like that? Had you been that wrong in your impression of him?

Your mouth was open, stinging words already on your tongue, but then he looked up again and you realized … you realized he was turned on. His eyes were dark and unmistakably roaming over the bare skin of your legs and cleavage and there was that tightness in his jaw that you knew showed his self-control.

Your words of protest died on your tongue and in a split second he was standing right in front of you. He smelled of hotel shower gel and his cologne. Your hand landed on his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. You realized you had never seen him undressed and the sudden desire to run your hands over his chest and under the hem of his shirt filled you.

“We are going out tonight,” you stated in a whisper, “And we, uh, we went out to get something fun.”

He hummed, an amused glint in his eyes you were once again struck by how much happier he looked when he smiled. “So, this is,” his hands landed on your hips, “fun?”

It would certainly be fun if he took that dress off you.

He seemed to think the same because his fingertips skimmed over the hem of your dress until they slipped under it, rough skin brushing over where your thighs met your ass. “It’s a shame I couldn’t buy you some more lingerie,” he noted, his voice deep and warm as his nose brushed against yours, “You would look stunning on this bed in nothing but the prettiest lace.”

“Or without it,” you added cheekily, rising onto your tiptoes so you could brush your lips over his.

He made a low sound in his agreement, the way his hands tightened on your ass letting you know just how much he liked that idea.

His lips touched yours, just briefly, just a peck as if to test the waters. But all it managed to do was break the dam of all the desire you had held back these past few weeks. You opened your mouth instantly and Hotch took over control, his mouth moving against yours, making you shiver.

“It’s been way too long,” you whined, tilting your head back when he kissed you. The tall man hummed, pulling you against him. Your hands wandered up to the back of his neck, feeling the softness of his hair there.

“Wanted to have you in my bed at least once between Idaho and now,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin.

Your bodies were flush against each other. You could feel every single inch of him and it still was not enough. If you could just – and if he would just – fuck, you didn’t want to leave this room all night.

His belt buckle dug into your belly and you could feel his prominent erection through his slacks. You gasped, your fingers tightening on his hair and he growled, his hips snapping forward. The motion had you taking a step back and he followed immediately, not even the edge of the bed stopping him from urging closer to you.

And you did not want him to stop.

A knock on your door snapped you out of it. Hotch growled, his hands squeezing your ass and his teeth closing on your bottom lip. “Hotch,” you murmured, “Someone’s there.”

“If you’re quiet enough, they’ll leave,” he whispered hotly against you. His fingertips swiped over your panties and there was no mistaking how wet you already were. Hotch seemed to think so, too because when another knock came, his fingers hooked your panties to the side.

“Aaron,” you gasped, gently pulling away from him. That seemed to get to him because he took one long step away from you, your body instantly missing him. He looked just as affected as you felt. His hair was a mess, his lips looked so fucking kissable and there was the outline of his cock. The mere sight of it made you want to get on your knees.

But this was not the time and both of you knew it.

Another insistent knock at the door had you move as fast as lightning.

“Bathroom,” you brought out and Hotch nodded, looking like he was back to his no-nonsense self.

In a hurry, you pulled your dress down, rubbing your palm over your mouth and trying your best to look like you weren’t just the most turned-on you had been for weeks.

You opened the door with a flourish only to be faced with an impatient Penelope who took you in with wide eyes.

“Honey you are flowing!” she said, way too loudly, way too happy and way too –

“How many drinks have you had?” you asked, eyeing the half-empty cocktail glass in her hand. It had not one, not two but three colourful umbrellas in there.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter now when they’re so tasty,” she waved off, “What is more important is how you managed to look this good. It's unfair, really, here I am trying on dress after dress and do you know how many hairclips I went through to find the right one and then here you are, looking like,“ she gasped as if she had just had one of her genius ideas. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she stage-whispered, “Were you just masturbating?”

“Oh my god no,” you protested instantly, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks, “Why – why would you say something like that?”

“Cause you look like you just had the best time,” she wriggled her eyebrows, “And I speak from experience.”

“Garcia,” Hotch warned from somewhere behind you and you wondered how he had gotten himself in control on such short notice, “I don’t think that line of thought is appropriate.”

“Of course, sir, I apologize,” she didn’t miss a beat, her voice as happy as always. At least three drinks, you thought, this is no-inhibitions-Penelope. “Now are you two ready or not? I have got a hunk of a man waiting for me in the lobby and I won’t forgive either of you if we miss the first round.”

Vegas was everything everyone had always made it out to be.

Just much louder.

Much brighter.

Much more crowded.

The bright lights made the entire street seem like a theme park and you stared in wonder at all the hotels, casinos and bars and their very colourful neon advertisements. Reid was next to you, not paying attention to any of it, and you wondered how he, with all his peculiarities, experienced childhood in the city of sin.

“You would be surprised how much quieter it is if you just never go here.”

Your confusion must have translated onto your face because the young man grinned. “Everybody asks the same thing when they realize where I grew up,” he shrugged, “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Derek called him from up front. You noted with a smile that his arm was already around Penelope who gazed up at him with the love-dovey look she got around him. Reid followed his call, picking up his step to catch up with them and you smiled, watching as they laughed and bantered.

Hotch was next to you now, wearing slacks and a dark grey dress shirt. You didn’t even know he owned one. But now he was wearing it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it did things to you. Things you tried not to make too obvious because the night was young still and if you were already this wet you didn’t want to think of the state of your panties in a few hours.

“Have you ever been to Vegas?” you asked him instead, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His eyes reflected the colourful lights. “There were a few cases that took us here,” he confirmed, “Though we did not make it a habit to stay here longer.”

“Why now?” you pried.

His face turned towards you, the shining lights of the strip making his profile seem even sharper. Dark eyes met yours.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours as you crossed the street, “It felt like we, like the team, needed some time to recharge.”

“Truth or dare?”

A glance around the group let you know that, much like in high school, there was really only one answer that would be accepted.

“Dare,” you decided, your heart pounding in your chest. Emily’s broad grin did not ease your discomfort.

“I dare you to fuck Officer Greggs over there,” she revealed, nodding to the man who stood at the bar, “He has been eyeing you all night.”

“Fuck him?” Morgan echoed, his arm still thrown around a very giddy Penelope, “Now that’s a lot to ask, isn’t it?”

“What? He’s a good-looking man,” Emily defended her choice, “And it’s obviously not about actually fucking him. It’s about seeing if she could.”

“If she wanted to,” JJ added with a determined nod, her faked sobriety betrayed by the way her eyes were already half-lidded and how her hands did most of the talking for her.

Rossi looked totally unimpressed if amused, and Hotch … Hotch looked just unimpressed.

A flash of excitement coursed through you at the possibility that he was maybe jealous.

“Alright,” you heard yourself say, taking a last sip from your glass, “Wish me luck.”

“In that dress, you don’t need luck,” Morgan joked and you laughed, feeling more and more confident. You turned sideways, trying to make your way out between Hotch’s and Garcia’s chairs. It was a tight fit and, sure, you could have taken the easier route. But you were buzzed enough to want to have Hotch close. And to see how he eyed you up close.

Which he did.

He was sitting in his chair, legs spread wider than normal and your eyes fell to his hand, laying on his thigh. Your knee bumped into his thigh and you could see his fingers twitch, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the light.

You bit the inside of your cheek trying to get yourself to move. After all, you had a dare to fulfil. Or at least attempt to fulfil.

“Have fun!” JJ sing-songed behind you and you threw her a look that had everyone laughing. Except for Hotch.

The music was loud and the place was crowded. Much like the rest of the city on a Friday night. Yet, it did not take long for you to spot Officer Greggs. Probably because he wanted to be spotted.

He was standing at the bar with a few of his colleagues you recognized from work over the last few days. It was a direct line of sight from you to him and when he raised his glass to you, you knew he had been waiting for this moment for a while. This was your chance.

Walking towards him, you made sure your dress did not ride up too much and that your hips could sway from side to side without stumbling in your heels. Despite this dress making you feel different, you were still not the self-assured, flirty woman of your wishful thinking.

But you also did not need to be.

“I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to come and chat me up,” Greggs teased you with a grin, his colleagues subtly moving away. Interesting, you noted, that his interest really did not seem to be a secret at all in his team.

“Are you telling me I am late?” you laughed, leaning onto the bar next to him.

The tall man looked you over, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress and your cleavage. (Much like Hotch earlier, but you tried to ignore that thought.) “I would never,” he drawled, taking a big swallow from his beer, “You are right on time, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He shifted on his feet, closer to you, and you noted how his arm fell down, his hand landing on your hip. His touch was soft and warm and not necessarily unwelcome. Here was an attractive, kind-hearted man that was clearly interested in you. And yet all you could think about was Hotch.

As if on their own accord, your eyes shifted back to the group. There wasn’t a direct line of sight, too many people waking to and from, but in the rare moments where you could, you caught glimpses of Hotch.

And he was looking directly at you.

“You okay?”

Gregg’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Yeah,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him and giving him a smile, “Sorry, just got distracted there for a second.”

Your words – as fake as they sounded to your ears – seemed to seem genuine for him. His lips pulled up in a broad smile and his hand got a little heavier on your hip. “I – I was actually hoping we would get a few moments alone today,” he said, getting even closer to you, “You’re quite intriguing if I do say so myself.”

His nose was almost touching yours which meant his mouth was almost touching yours and suddenly you had the question pop up in your head what the fuck you were doing here. You were not about to fuck Officer Greggs. Hell, you didn’t even want to. You wanted one man and one man only and if that did not work out then you at least wanted to spend the night with your colleagues having fun.

“I, uh, I’m gonna be right back,” you excused yourself, vaguely motioning to the direction of the bathroom, “Too many margaritas.”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on your lips and you took a few steps backwards before turning around and hurrying through the crowd. Okay, here was the plan: Make your way to the bathroom, catch your breath for a few minutes, then return to the team and casually convince them to switch to another bar and enjoy the evening and not make your desire for Hotch too obvious.

You were almost by the bathroom when someone stepped right in front of you. For the first split second, you thought it was a mistake. Someone crossing your path and simply not seeing you. But when they did not move, their chest right against yours, you looked up, ready to be offended.

But the words died on your tongue because it was not just anyone. It was Hotch.

He was looming over you, brows pulled together, lips in a straight line, and he did not look happy in the slightest. His fists were clenched, the veins stood out and you shifted much like Greggs earlier. Only now you were turned on.

“You are not going to fuck Officer Greggs.”

You hadn’t planned on it.

But there was something in his eyes that was just too tempting to play with.

“I’m not?” you asked instead, playing innocent.

“No,” he took a step closer, “You’re not.”

Your chest heaved and his eyes landed on your chest. For just the briefest of seconds, you could see his tongue dart out, smoothing over his lower lip and you wished he would just kiss you. You gulped. Shit, why didn’t he just kiss you?

Instead, he leaned ever closer, his breath washing over your face just as the scent of his cologne.

“If you land in anyone’s bed tonight, it’s mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear and goosebumps erupting all over your skin. You knew he noticed when he ran a single finger down the back of your neck, his face lowering so his nose brushed over your neck. “If any man is going to fuck you, it is going to be me. Isn’t that right?”

You gasped, your heart racing in your chest.

“I asked you something,” he reminded you, his hand brushing over your ass, “Don’t you want to answer me?”

“Yes, sir,” the words tasted on your tongue like honey, “I – you’re right.”

“What am I right about?” he asked, “Be a good girl and use your words.”

Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself reaching out, your hand landing loosely on his hip. His belt. Before you knew what you were doing, one of your fingers hooked into his belt loops, tugging him closer.

“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” he said. And hearing him say it, his voice deep and satisfied, did things to you you would never ever admit when asked about. You squeezed your legs together, shuffling closer to him so your body was flush against his.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, his mouth brushing over your jaw. The dimmed light and the massive crowd kept you relatively sheltered but you were more than aware that your teammate – or Officer Greggs – could spot you at any moment.

And so, apparently, was Hotch.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your skin, “You are going outside. I will go to the team and say I saw you leaving with Greggs,” his voice dripped with venom at the other mas name, “And then I will excuse myself for the night. We will take a car back to the hotel and then I will fuck you so good the only word you can say is my name.”

Fuck, was this really happening?

“Understood?”

You nodded, swallowing heavily as you looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at you, dark eyes on yours and then he leant forward and kissed you. Hard.

His teeth clashed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and you felt hot and cold at the same time. Everything was tingling from your head to your tiptoes everything was screaming for him.

“I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” you admitted, completely out of breath, “Please, Hotch –“

“It’s Sir,” he corrected you sternly, “After I saw you flirting with that boy, it’s Sir.”

“Yes, Sir,” the words slipped off your tongue too easily, “Please, I –“

“Patience,” he warned you, dropping a small kiss to the spot under your ear. It was a gesture that filled you with affection but there was something about the way his eyes did not meet yours when he pulled away that let you know that kiss was not only for you. You turned your head, following his gaze, and found Officer Greggs staring at you. There was a shadow of disappointment on his face before he turned away, acting like he had not seen you at all.

Hotch’s hand on your neck slipped down to your back, sitting low enough that his fingers could fan out over your butt.

“Alright,” he muttered, “Let’s go.”

If anyone had ever told you, that you would be sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Las Vegas, wearing the shortest dress you ever owned and waiting for Hotch to join you, you would have declared them insane. But that was exactly what you were doing now. You had slipped off your heels, sitting cross-legged against the giant pillows as he had paced through the room, switching his phone off, locking the door and putting out the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle. It might have been mundane acts by themselves but there was something about how he did it all with such precision, like he was taking care of everything before he could take care of you and it turned you on more than it should.

Your encounters in the past had all been very spontaneous, announcing themselves minutes before something happened between you two. This was different. You had had a whole car and elevator ride before you reached the bed and even now there were things to take care of. You had been scared that maybe it would be awkward, that you did not have anything to talk about.

But you were proven wrong because while there was silence between the two of you, it was not the uncomfortable kind. He had always touched you, subtle but reassuring. Hotch had had his hand on your bare knee for the entire ride, his fingers steadily brushing circles into your skin while he made small talk with the driver like it was the most natural thing in the world. In the elevator his hand had found its place on your upper back, not as but seeing as your skin was not covered by the dress there, it felt much more intimate.

And now he had prepared everything so you would remain undisturbed for the entire night which excited you more than words could describe. But it also terrified you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Hotch stood at the end of the bed, his eyes mustering you up and down. You were so nervous, you did not dare to move a muscle.

This was happening, this was really happening.

“Come here,” he said softly. It was not an instruction but you followed it as one, crawling to the end of the bed until you were kneeling up. Your heart was racing in your chest, the slick between your legs too prominent to ignore. And Hotch was right in front of you, mustering you with serious eyes.

“Do you remember what I told you in the car?” he checked in, his finger holding your chin, “If you want to stop –“

“Tap your thigh three times,” you finished his sentence.

“And the safe word?”

“Iceberg.”

His lips quirked up in a pleased smile as he tilted your chin up.

“Good girl,” he leant forwards, his lips meeting yours and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean completely into him.

His other hand cupped your cheek, keeping you in place as his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you hasped, feeling a shudder run through your entire body.

You could not stop the whine that escaped you when he pulled away from you but a stern look from him had you silent again. Silent and very very horny.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he said, almost conversationally as he unbuttoned his shirt. Your eyes fixated on his hands and how big they looked on the tiny buttons. Aaron Hotchner was not a small man. He was broad in an unexpected kind of way, solid. Not as defined muscles as Morgan was or as lithe as Reid, no. Aaron Hotchner was a category of his own.

“Suck my cock under the desk, fuck you in that elevator, have you hump the corner of my desk till you come, the list goes on,” he continued while shrugging out of his dress shirt, leaving him only in the white undershirt, “haven’t really decided on one yet.”

You only noticed you were holding your breath when he approached you again. He tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “Maybe we should try them all out. What do you say? Want to be a little whore for me?”

“God please yes,” you gasped, your lips brushing over the pad of his thumb. He hummed, his finger pressing further into your mouth and he did not even need to say anything for your lips to close around his digit, swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking.

He hummed, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and you opened your mouth for him, trying to stick out your tongue so he could give you more. But he didn’t, instead pulling his thumb away, leaving a wet trail down to your chin where he gripped it.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled, his hands pulling you in again for a kiss. His mouth opened against yours and you opened yours for him, his tongue tangling with yours. He tasted of whiskey and that mint that Morgan had passed around. “We can go slow,” he said, his nose bumping against yours, “We have time.”

Something, some teeny tiny voice in your brain, piped up in doubt. You only have tonight to impress him, that voice squeaked, If you fail tonight, you will never have the chance again. Which was a ridiculous thought to have when he was towering over you, looking like he was about to devour you. And fuck, did you want to be devoured.

“First, I am going to have you suck my cock, I think,” he mused, “I feel like your mouth always needs something to suck on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, shuffling off the bed. His hand left your chin slowly, his knuckles brushing down your cleavage and belly before his arm fell to his side.

You watched as he sat on the side of the bed and he did not even have to say anything for you to sink to your knees. The carpet was soft on your skin. Still, he held up his jacket in a silent offering, his eyes warm and soft. He was taking care of you.

When you shook your head, the soft look disappeared again as he nodded in understanding. The jacket landed on the end of the bed and when he looked at you again, his eyes were dark, staring directly into your soul.

Being looked at like that made your breath come quicker and your pussy wetter. Especially, when he spread his legs so all you could see, all you could focus on, was the bulge right in front of your face.

Like you said, Hotch wasn’t a small man by any means and there was something so sexy about him acting like he knew it. He knew he was big, he knew he was in charge and he knew what it did to you when he unzipped his pants and freed his cock.

“Patient,” he noted, clearly pleased, “Good girl.”

You smiled, his praise doing something with you. Something you were not ready to admit yet, even though it was already the running joke in the BAU that you wanted to impress him. (Not as your boss though, as most people presumed, but as the man that made you cry on his cock.)

“Here you go,” he said, his hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped it a few times. Drops of precome beaded at the tip, looking ready for you to lick them right off. If you focussed enough, you could already taste him. “Open wide.”

You did, opening your mouth as wide as you could, and sticking out your tongue. Hotch hummed, a deep sound from his chest. His tip landed on your tongue and you waited, frowning when he did not move. But then he did it again. And again.

He slapped his cock on your tongue a few times and you could feel the drool collecting on the tip of your tongue, threatening to trail down your chin. But you did not lose his gaze, did not move from your spot. Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re good for me,” he breathed, “So fucking good for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, his cock landing on your cheek instead. But Hotch didn’t seem to mind. His other hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer. You leaned forward as he wanted, closing your eyes when he lifted his cock onto your face. Heat rose into your cheeks when you realized what he was doing, his shaft measuring against your face. It made you feel filthy and a little embarrassed but also so incredibly turned on.

Your mouth was still open, your tongue and he was heavy against your face. You resisted the temptation to run your tongue along the underside. You wanted to be good for him.

“Go on,” he said, “Drool for me.”

With your mouth open and tongue out, it was impossible to make a sound and yet, you managed to produce the tiniest whimper. You could feel the drop forming before it landed on your chin trailing down before you could feel it between your tits.

You froze, wondering if it was enough for him, if you should wait a little longer, if you could wait a little longer before you were getting too desperate. His cock disappeared before finally pushing on your tongue and inside your mouth.

You took a deep breath then, noting how he already pushed himself to the back of your throat. His thrusts were slow and measured but also testing clearly your limits. There was nothing careful or shallow about his movements, like he knew exactly how much you could take, how much he wanted you to take. And you knew you would take however much he wanted from you.

He was heavy on your tongue and tasted salty. You managed to swallow around him once, your throat already protesting. You gagged around him, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried to regain your composure because damn you if you weren’t going to try your best.

Hotch paused his movements, his cock halfway down your throat. His brows were pulled together and he looked at you, clearly trying to see whether you wanted to take the chance to tap his thighs.

You relaxed your throat, making it a point to meet his gaze.

“Are those pretty tears for me?” he asked softly, his free hand brushing over your cheeks, “And I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

Fuck.

“You good?”

“Hngh,” you tried to nod, forcing yourself to swallow around him. He tilted his head back, a groan leaving his throat and you could see his jugular move. You swallowed around him again in a desperate attempt to see him lose composure like that again. His hips twitched, moving even farther inside you and you gagged. Hotch paused but did not pull away.

“You can take it,” he said sternly, “I know you can.”

You remained silent, trying to convey that you knew with your eyes. Your jaw was aching already and your pussy wept. His hips began to move more and more, his large hand on the back of your head pushing and pulling you this and that way. You relaxed, letting him use you like a toy (and why did that turn you on as much as it did?), occasionally running your tongue over the underside of his cock.

He was silent, not saying much but you could feel his eyes on you. You glanced upwards, finding him looking down at you, almost as if he was assessing you. Like he was determining whether you did a good job or not and that, embarrassing as it was, made you even wetter.

There was that furrow between his brows again and his lips were pressed tightly together. If you did not know any better, you would have suspected him to be displeased, but you did know better. Because his cock was twitching on your tongue and his chest rumbled.

You leant forward again, your nose almost touching his belly. Almost.

Frustration grew in you and you pulled away.

But before you could pull off completely, his hand on your head stopped you. “You can take me deeper,” he stated. It wasn’t a question but you knew he gave the pause to give the option to say no.

You did not say anything.

His hand pushed you down on his crotch, his cock reaching impossibly deep and you gagged. You did not pull away this time and he did not let you. Rather, you made an effort to breathe through your nose, to focus on the weight of him on your tongue.

Your hands twitched with the knowledge that you could tap his thigh anytime. Yet you chose not to. Your nose touched his belly, his cock too large to let you smile in triumph.

Then, his other hand reached around your front and he leant forward. At first, you thought he was cupping your jaw or something to try and get you to open wider. But his hand went lower. To your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock when his big hand closed around your throat, not cutting off any air but still tight enough to feel his pressure. And enough to feel the bulge he formed in your throat.

He groaned.

“I could jerk myself off just like that,” he commented, sounding way too unaffected for your liking, “And you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

You made a sound at the back of your throat, feeling the movement protest against the grip his hand had on you.

The power he held over you had you squeezing your thighs.

“I am not coming down your throat,” he said, his thumb rubbing over the tip of him, “Not this time.”

With that, he pulled away from you, his hand on the back of your head gently pulling you back. Immediately, you gasped for breath, trying to even your breathing while not taking your eyes off him.

Hotch stood up, a twinkle in his eyes when he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. “Get up on the bed,” he instructed, “Lose the clothes.”

At record speed, you slipped out of the dress and out of your underwear. Catching a glimpse of the wet patch on your panties, you forced yourself not to be ashamed of it. By now, it was a safe bet to assume that he knew the kind of effect he had on you.

The sheets felt cool and soft under your skin and you sat down and scooted back. Hotch eyed you like prey, your heart skipping a beat when you watched as he wrapped his hand around himself again, pumping while you got comfortable.

When your back settled against the pillows, he moved too.

“Good girl,” he murmured before leaning forward and climbing onto the bed.

You laid back, allowing him to come to rest above you. His breath fanned over your crotch and your belly, his lips ghosting over the valley between your breasts and up your throat until they met yours.

You hummed, trying to get up on your elbows to get closer to him. His lips were soft but dominant, his hand brushing over your cheek before settling right under your jaw.

The man above you sat up, straddling your hips. His hand was around your throat, loosely wrapped around and you smiled, already knowing what. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue and being rewarded by the dark smile on his lips.

“Such a good little whore,” he groaned before he spit right into your mouth, “Such a good little cocksleeve.”

Swallowing greedily, you opened your mouth again, showing him that nothing was left.

The feeling of his cock against your folds was what made your composure break. Pleasure was flowing through your every vein and you could feel your pussy pulse, feeling way too empty with him rubbing his tip over your clit.

“Sir, please,” you whined, trying to thrust your hips up, wanting to get just that little bit of friction more, “I – I need it.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it is that you need,” he stated when he slowly pushed forward, his cock splitting your walls, “You need me to work my cock in that tight pussy of yours and then fill you up until you are nothing but dripping in my come.”

You took a deep breath, relishing in the stretch he caused and the feelings of your walls opening up for him. And his words did the rest. You were so wet,

Angling up your knees, you wrapped your legs around his broad hips. It allowed him to push even deeper and you both moaned. Your thighs were already aching but your pussy fluttered around how full you were.

He began to move, slow at first before he found his bearings. His forearms caged in your head and he was right above you, surrounding you so completely while his cock pushed deeper and deeper. All you could see, all you could smell, all you could feel, was him.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed, your fingertips running over his jaw, “Please come in me.”

“Good girl,” he chuckled, a little out of breath, his lips pressing against your temple, “Making such smart choices today.”

Not having the time to think about what he could possibly mean, you tilted your head back, allowing him to press a slow kiss to your neck. It was warm and wet and made your entire body shiver.

“Anytime you make a smart choice, I reward you, how does that sound?”

You could not answer, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Already too cockdumb for me, I see,” he murmured, his teeth scratching over your skin, “But that’s okay because this? This is a reward. You were such a smart girl today, not letting Greggs fuck you. Because you know only I can fuck you right, right?”

You whimpered, your hardened nipples brushing against the fabric of his shirt and you arched your back, trying to get him to be closer, deeper, faster.

His hips snapped against you, pinning yours to the mattress and you gasped at how deep he went. The weight of his body on yours meant you could not move, entirely at his mercy. Your walls clamped around him, the knot in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter with the feeling of his cock moving and his quiet groans in your ear.

“Next time you’re being a good girl for me, I will fill you up on the jet,” he hissed, “I will have you sit on my cock before we’re even in the air and you only get to come once we’re back on land. I don’t care what the others will think,” his fingers snuck to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves just how you needed it, “Let’s hope it won’t be Alaska or I will have an overstimulated mess sobbing on my cock.”

You gasped, hands flexing on his shoulders. Images filled your head. Of you, wearing one of your cutest office dresses that had the perfect length to conceal how he was buried inside you. Or how he would just so casually reach over to your seat, between your thighs, working your clit until you left a wet mess on the leather seat. The thought turned you on more than it should, the urge to keep quiet so you would not get caught being fucked by your boss.

And Hotch could sense what you were thinking. “Looks like someone likes that idea,” he mocked you, “Your pussy practically choked me. Are you that desperate for the cock of an old man? Of your boss? You really just want to be filled up every chance you have, hm?”

You nodded, eyes tearing up at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasped out, trying to move your hips against him, though you knew it was an impossible feat, “Wanna – wanna be your whore so bad.”

“You already are,” he cooed, kissing you swiftly while his hips moved against yours again and again, “And you can be my good girl too if you come on my cock right now.”

Aaron Hotchner had to be a magician because there was no other explanation for how your body just listened to him. Every single muscle you were aware of tensed as the knot in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter before it felt like it was pulled apart, pleasure erupting everywhere. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your moan and breathing in his familiar scent.

Hotch did not slow his pace. His cock kept working in and out of you, driving you to the edge of madness. With you coming around him, you became even more aware of how big he was inside you. It was like he was pushing the air out of your lungs and you gasped, trying to gather your bearings when all you could feel was

He panted, his movements picking up in speed and you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him inside you until he stilled. The deep groan he let out rumbled in his chest and you could feel it, feel it in the way he was pressed right up against you, feel it in the way his head sunk into the crook of your neck, feel it in the way, his entire body rested on yours.

There was something about feeling his come pump inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and feeling so full of him, that struck you with the sudden realization that you would really let this man do anything to you. The trust you had in him, in the way he would take care of you, would not be so easily broken.

Which meant your heart was that much more breakable.

Your body calmed down, feeling completely weightless even with him on top of you. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him shift, rolling you both around until you were on top of him. His cock was still inside you plugging you up and you smiled when you felt him draw lined over your back.

“That okay?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbly, “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head before resting your cheek on his chest. “Just this,” you murmured, “Just this please.”

“Good girl,” he praised you with a gentle smile, kissing the top of your head, “Rest, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

“What is it?” you shot up in bed, panic and adrenaline pumping through your blood. It took you a moment to remember that you were not supposed to be alone in this room and that the figure moving next to you was none other than Aaron. He was safe. He was supposed to be here.

Ears ringing, you threw a look on your side of the bed, trying to find if your phone was lit up because there was another case.

Please not, ran through our brain, Please let me have him this close just for a little longer.

But it was not your phone that was ringing.

“Shit, sorry,” you could hear Hotch rise in the dark, his body twisting the blanket this and that way as he leaned over to his night table. Something clattered and you could see a brightly lit display before it disappeared behind Hotch’s profile.

“Hey, buddy!”

You blinked.

“Yeah, we got the bad guy,” his voice was oddly soft, “Did Aunt Jess take to the – she did? That is awesome, you will have to tell me all about it.”

When you realized he was talking to his son (you tried to blame the very late/early time for this), your heart melted. The way his voice was deep and groggy but you could hear the love in it, the affection. There were only a handful of times you had heard him talk like that and they had all been when he was talking to or about Jack.

Before you knew it, he had hung up, his phone screen going dark and your body instantly yearning back for that deep slumber you had just been in.

“Sorry, I usually have it on loud to make sure I wake up. “ To make sure I don’t miss his calls.

“No worries, it’s … it's actually quite sweet,” you mumbled, glad for the darkness so he could not see just how affected you were.

“Sweet?” he echoed and you didn’t need to see him to know he was grinning, “I was expecting a lot of adjectives but not sweet.”

“It’s the dichotomy of man,” you replied groggily, very aware of the heat of his body right next to you, “Stern Hotch and Sweet Hotch.”

His hand found yours in the dark and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled it up to his lips. It felt way too intimate but it felt right. Maybe because it was dark it felt like you could allow yourself to enjoy the closeness. Like you could pretend you were living in some alternate universe where he was

“You’ve only seen stern Hotch, then, I presume,” he joked.

“Sexy Hotchner and stern Hotchner,” you added, pulling your hand back to your chest and thus his arm around you as you settled on your side, “Work Hotchner and Bed Hotchner.”

“Then maybe it is time you get to see Sweet Hotchner,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing over your shoulder. Your hand tightened around his and you snuggled back into him, thinking that any embarrassment that might ensue from this intimate embrace could be a problem for future you.

“How do I get to meet Sweet Hotchner?” you yawned, barely awake, “Do I have to ask Jack for some tips?”

“That or you could go on a date with me,” he said, his voice just as groggy, “I heard I am supposed to be my most charming self when on a date.”

Yup, definitely a problem for future you.

#may answers #maybege writes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #smut

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sunflowersatori · 9 months

Text

kiss it better

sukuna x nurse!reader

contents: modern au, f!reader, sukuna is just a guy™️, he keeps getting in fights and coming to the clinic you work at so you can patch him up, some swearing, shoulder relocation (not graphic but it happens)

a/n: i do not know enough about walk-in clinics or joint relocations to be writing this but i hope y'all enjoy (also i have a follow up blurb ready if people want to read that)

When you checked the patient walk-in list you tried not to grit your teeth upon seeing the name that was next in line.

You stepped out from behind the desk and into the reception area.

“Ryomen Sukuna?”

It was easy to spot the tattooed man, who smirked slightly when he stood.

“Please follow me.”

He followed as you led him back into the clinic and into a treatment room.

You closed the door and turned around with a frown, “Alright you asshole, what did you do this time?”

He fake gasped, “You need to work on your bedside manner, Miss Nurse. Aren’t you happy to see me sweetheart?”

“No I am not! Don’t you know I have patients to tend to?”

“Yeah, and I’m one of them,” He had a lazy grin as he leaned against the bed. You could see that he had a cut on his forehead with a bruise blooming underneath it. He was cradling his arm as if trying to hold it in place, and his lip was split. To top it off, there was blood on his knuckles too.

He’d obviously been in a fight, just like all the other late nights he’d come into the clinic.

You sighed heavily, “Other than what I can see, what’s wrong?”

“I dislocated my shoulder,” he nodded his head at the arm he was cradling, “but don’t worry, the other guy looks worse.”

You shook your head, “Sit, and I hope that fight was worth it because this is going to hurt.”

He sat and you moved over to his injured side. Even sitting on the table he was taller than you and his broad shoulders made you feel smaller than you were. You took his arm as gently as you could, ignoring his comment about you treating him so well, and manoeuvred it into position. With one push, you popped it up and back into the socket.

“Fuck!” Sukuna barked out a curse at the pain, and you gave him a pointed look.

He inhaled through his teeth as you wrapped up his arm in a sling.

After gently securing the sling with a knot at his wrist, you looked up to find him watching you, still grimacing a bit but clearly trying to play it off, “Damn sweetheart, what else can you do with those hands?”

You chose to roll your eyes and not comment. You did feel bad for him for having to go through the pain of relocating a joint, so you let it slide. Instead, you gathered some more minor supplies to tend to the rest of his injuries.

The blood on his knuckles wasn’t his, so it was the easiest to fix with a gentle rub of a disinfecting wipe. The cuts were also relatively simple to deal with, and didn’t even require stitches. You cleaned everything and grabbed a small ice pack for the bruise that was now fully settled on his forehead.

When you were done you took a small step back to survey him, “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“Yeah right here,” he pointed to his face, “maybe you should kiss it better.”

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed and turned to dispose of the trash from your used supplies.

“A kiss always makes it feel better.”

He was grinning at you when you looked back at him, though it was a much less smug expression than he usually had. You wondered if the late hour or the pain was making him a little softer.

“That’s not a service we provide at this clinic,” you said, voice soft and trying to hold back a blush as you opened the door to the treatment room, “You’re all set to go Sukuna.”

“You mean you don’t want me to stay?”

“Sukuna.”

“Fine, fine, you’re a busy lady, with people to help. I get it,” he stood and walked toward the door, but paused in the doorway.

You felt the fingers of his good hand tilt your chin up so you were looking at him, and he leaned down to get close to your face. You felt your breathing stop.

“Thanks for taking such good care of me sweetheart,” Sukuna murmured, low and soft and right next to your lips. Then he was heading back toward the reception area.

You watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight, and then you stepped back in the treatment room. You closed the door, even if you only had to quickly sanitize the place he had been sitting before the next patient came in, but you needed a moment to compose yourself.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Sure you usually had to get close to him when you treated him, but this had felt different. He’d been a bit sweeter than usual tonight, some of his normal swagger put aside.

You couldn’t deny that you found him attractive, but normally it was easier to brush aside your thoughts and focus on your work. Now, you weren’t so sure.

What you did know was that you were, against your better judgement, looking forward to seeing him the next time he came into the clinic.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

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enchantedbarnes · 5 months

Text

Uncle Buck • Part 6

I Caught Fire

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Single Aunt!Reader

Word Count: 900

A/N: I know, I know - I'm sorry I suck at posting. Again - none of this was planned to go on after Part 1 😂 Only warning is this is just a short silly idea that popped into my head. However, I do have something else that's much longer cooking up, I just have been on the struggle bus to finish it. Ideas and suggestions are always welcome and what keeps this nonsense going. If you wanna spam me with replies, gifs, reblogs, what you love about these - maybe it will get the inspo bus moving along again. xoxo thank you so much for all the love so far 🥰

Bucky arrives at the house to meet up with you. You both had plans to check out the local farmer's market.

Nora opens the door with a welcoming smile, "Hey, Bucky!" She pulls him into a quick warm hug.

"Good to see your handsome face around here again," She teases while stepping back to let him step inside, "She's in the attic, go on up."

Bucky gets to the attic landing and hears music.

Stopping short he waits a moment to listen. You're singing along to the song playing.

He takes a seat on the bottom steps, enjoying the moment of you happily singing along without a care in the world.

"I'm melting, I'm melting!

In your eyes, I lost my place

Could stay a while

And I'm melting

In your eyes like my first time

That I caught fire

Just stay with me, lay with me.."

Benji walks out of his room and is about to let out a shout of excitement when Bucky holds a hand up and brings his finger up to his lips to silence him. He waves Benji over and pats the open spot next to him.

Benji runs over and takes a seat next to Bucky with a grin.

Bucky silently nods his head towards the stairs and points upstairs with an eyebrow raised.

Benji answers the silent question with a shrug and nod, as if to say, "Yup, this is what we deal with here."

"You can stay and watch me fall

And of course, I'll ask for help

Just stay with me now

We could take our heads off, stay in bed

Just make love, that's all

Just stay with me now!"

Bucky's eyebrows raise so high they almost levitate off his face.

The chorus starts up again and you let out a string of curses, "Shit. Damnit. Fuck. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7- Wait...Shit.. 6-7-8-9-10..."

Bucky holds his palms up and mouths, "What is she doing?"

Benji then mimes crocheting while mouthing the answer. "She lost count or something, happens a lot..." He whispers.

The next song starts to play. A soft guitar intro begins only to then be broken up with fast drums and heavier guitar, the unexpected transition almost startles Bucky.

Benji starts air drumming along to the song while headbanging.

Bucky lets out a silent laugh with a shake of his head.

"The toxicity of our city, of our city," you join in, singing along to the more aggressive chorus of Toxicity by System of a Down, "YOU, what do you own the world?

How do you own disorder? Disorder!

Now! Somewhere between the sacred silence

Sacred silence and sleeeep

Somewhere, between the sacred silence and sleep

Disorder, disorder, disorder!"

Benji is still busy in his fantasy drum performance rocking out.

Bucky starts to wonder what exactly happens in this household on a daily basis. He's certain nothing he can possibly imagine will be anything close to the actual reality.

His phone vibrates in his pocket pulling him out from his thoughts. You had sent him a text.

Did you take a scenic route to get here?

You could say that.. be there sooner than you'd think.

He's about to stand up when Benji grabs his arm and mouths, "Wait. One second..." Benji scurries off to his room and comes back a moment later with his tablet. He taps around for a bit and the song changes. The intro seems to grab your attention because he hears you go "Oooh shit." Benji smirks.

The two sit there a moment, Bucky can hear shuffling and footsteps, but they're not approaching the stairs from what he can tell.

He looks over at Benji to see if he has an answer.

"This is her favorite band," he whispers, he motions Bucky to follow him.

They both slowly move up the stairs, one step at a time, until you're in view. They stay low trying to keep out of sight as much as they can. Benji is lying on his stomach against the stairs with his head peeking up. Bucky continues to sit on a step and has his arm leaning on the next step, propping his head up to watch in amusement as you dance around the attic while carrying your crochet project with you, somehow continuing your row of stitches. You start singing along as the vocals start up.

"If you have an opinion

Maybe you should shove it

Or maybe you could scream it

Might be best to keep it

To yourself…

To yourself!"

Benji hops up and runs over to you as the beat picks up, both of them start jumping up and down with each other.

"This is why I don't leave the house!

You say the coast is clear

But you won't catch me out

Oh, whyyyyy?"

You point your crochet hook at Benji as a makeshift microphone and continue dancing as you shout, "This is why!-" You suddenly catch sight of Bucky leaning against the wall with his arms crossed at the top of the stairs and freeze in your spot.

"How long have you been here..."

"Honest answer?" He asks with a smirk.

"Obviously."

"Something about catching fire a few songs ago."

"Oh my God," You groan in embarrassment. "Creep!" You laugh while throwing a ball of yarn at him.

"Maybe they'll have a karaoke contest you can start at the market."

Another projectile ball of yarn hits his chest.

Song list/links:

I Caught Fire by The Used

Toxicity by System of a Down

This is Why by Paramore

Dividers by @saradika

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kakujis · 1 year

Text

stay with me?;

a/n: a little continuation of this post. i love kakucho too much to not give him what he wants c’mon now. 😭 but why is it so sexy for (fictional)men to restrain themselves until they just can’t anymore n they jus go buck wild?? anyways, i put my entire p*ssy into this i hope u guys enjoy! like genuinely i lost my mind writing this jjdjdjd

ft: bonten!kakucho x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k, not proofread xd

warnings: dark content. afab fem!reader, sub!reader, somno, f!oral receiving, overstim, dacryphilia, praise, pet names, slight orgasm control, unprotected, creamp*e(i hate this word), multiple rounds, dubcon, jealousy, stalking, obsession, honestly the more i wrote this it became a bit of yan!kakucho lol. gets a little soft at the end. very self indulgent 💜

showering with your door unlocked wasn’t the dumbest thing you could do. okay, maybe it was…but you trusted kakucho to watch and take care of any danger while he was there.

fresh out of the shower, you finished putting lotion onto your skin, the cool cream sinking into the warmth of your skin. switching off your bathroom light as you leave, you glance at your bedroom door.

maybe.. you should say goodnight to him, he is going to be up all night. you walk over, goosebumps blooming as you rubbed your arms for warmth. why was it always so cold out of the shower?

you open your door and peek into the dimly lit living room. kakucho was there, sitting on your couch and reading a book. dressed in all black, he rested one leg up on his knee and under the light of lamp you thought he looked handsome, his black hair dangling in front of his face as he read some random book plucked off the shelf.

“kakucho..” you started, voice barely louder than a whisper. he glanced up immediately, concern etching his features and two tone eyes meeting yours. you gave a small smile, “good night and thanks for... all this,” you say, gesturing to his spot.

he blinks, before nodding, “no problem. boss’s orders anyway,” he smiles back at you, before waving you off. “go get some rest.”

you nod before slipping back into your room, closing the door behind you. you hesitate on the lock slightly before you forgo locking it, trusting in kakucho completely. he was different from the rest of bonten. his voice was gentle alongside his touches. he was sweet to you and you to him. he was the one you went to when you were upset or scared. in another life, under different circumstances, maybe you would’ve dated.

but you remember what he actually does every time he stumbles into your office, hands bloodied and eyes frenzied. you always patch him up, watching the rise and fall of his chest reminding you that he was alive and someone else wasn’t. it strikes fear into you every time, that someone so gentle and so sweet could still snuff the light out from someone else.

you wonder what he looks like in those moments. does he look as lost when he’s sitting on your desk, eyes far off and unfocused as you disinfect and bandage his wounds? or is his resolve unwavering, eyes locked as he stares down his target and pulls the trigger?

you shake your head, nows not the time to think about that. now is time for sleep, you had a long day ahead of you tomorrow. mikey’s list of tasks seemed to never end and you groaned thinking about the new stack of paper work that would grace your desk tomorrow morning.

you flopped into your bed, sinking down into your comforter and pillows. curling up under your blanket, you checked your phone one more time to see if you had any missing messages. you had just said goodnight to him, but seeing his name in your list of messages had you wanting to say it again.

y/n: kaku, i’m gonna sleep now. feel free to use whatever, whenever! sorry you have to stay up for me.

you waited a few moments, seeing if he’d respond. and he did, an immediate “read” underneath your message followed by his own:

kakucho: what’d i say earlier? don’t worry about it. you’re special to us.

y/n: you’re all special to me too. <3 goodnight.

kakucho: goodnight, y/n.

with that you closed your phone, placing it onto your nightstand before turning over. almost instantly, exhaustion took hold and you fell into a deep slumber.

the instant mikey mentioned that you could be in trouble, kakucho offered himself up. due to the increasing gang-conflict, you were assigned more body guards to escort you to and from home. not only that, but you had guards keeping watch outside your office day in and out.

as kakucho said, you were special to bonten. a shining, pearly light in the bleakness of bonten’s all consuming night. each executive held a place for you in their heart and each one had dreams of making you theirs, but kakucho.. bordered on obsession.

it started off innocent like holding the door open for you or grabbing an extra coffee on his way to work. if you were going to be a long time addition, he might as well get to know you. eventually, he started to relax in your company. he’d always visit your office at least once a day and you welcomed him, listening to his woes while venting some of your own. you were a breath of fresh air, the sweet scent of flowers, and being around you felt like a dream.. but then he started getting jealous.

jealous of the way you’d lightly tap on ran’s arm, giggling when he made a joke. jealous when you’d dance in rindou’s office, body swaying and humming to his music. jealous when he’d catch you sobering up sanzu, your body dangerously close to his as you pressed a water cup to his lips.

jealous of the way you’d always tell kokonoi how pretty his hair was and what he thought about your own. jealous when you’d light up takeomi’s cigarette for him without him even having to ask. jealous when you’d rub mochi’s shoulders after a long day, calling in someone to bring him a glass of wine. jealous of how every morning started with mikey and ended with mikey, as you were his secretary.

kakucho hitto was so fucking jealous of every single little thing you would do with anyone who wasn’t him. that’s when he started taking your things, little trinkets to keep you close, praying you’d keep your balcony door open every evening so he wouldn’t have to feel bad for breaking in. when he first followed you home, he didn’t even realize it. for some reason, you loved to take public transport home, as if you didn’t work for the most notorious gang in Japan. he was entranced by the way you moved, seemingly without a care in the world.

he caught himself when you turned back, the weight of his stare boring into you. he hid quickly, crouching behind a parked car. you shrugged it off and continued on, eventually making it to your small apartment home situated on the second story. he pondered over going back to his own place. he made it here, but what now? he couldn’t just knock on the door.

but then he heard something, the sound of a sliding door being opened. you stretched and sighed into the evening air, before heading back in. he came closer, until he decided to climb up onto your balcony. he dropped down, hiding behind your curtains. he peeked in, breath hitching as you started taking your clothes off before entering your room.

at the sound of running water and your bathroom door softly closing, he fully made his way in. he thought your apartment was cute, simple and small. the others probably would’ve had a fit knowing you lived so quaintly instead of bathing in luxury. but kakucho liked it anyway, running his hands along your walls and furniture, taking in deep lungfuls of your burning candle’s scent. god he wanted to make you his wife.

his pretty little housewife who would greet him home after a long day at work. his angel who would sit in his lap, pressing kisses to his forehead, murmuring, “let me take care of you, honey.” he yearned for it, his pretty baby fucked dumb on his bed every night.

when he first peered into your bedroom, he held back a groan as he saw your panties thrown onto the floor. your skirt was left haphazardly on your desk chair. while the rest of your clothes left a trail into the bathroom.

he felt guilty, you had no idea he was here. technically he was breaking in, but you had left everything so open. as if you were inviting him in just like you did with your office.

that night he stole his first pair of panties, shoving them into his pocket as he slipped out the way he came. heart pounding he walked away with his prize, albeit small in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn’t stop smiling, twirling the fabric in between his fingers. he came hard and fast that night inhaling your scent, he was addicted. he wanted more, your voice, your touch, your everything.

he started becoming a little more risky, first touching himself in your bedroom to opening your bathroom door slightly just to hear your singing as he jacked off into a used pair. it was never enough, he wanted, no, needed you underneath him squirming and writhing as he filled you up multiple times a night. he was getting restless and sooner or later he would finally get what he wanted: you.

that’s how he ended up here, the first one to watch over and protect you. his phone buzzed and he closed his book, reaching over to see who was texting him. he frowned when he realized it was the bonten group chat. what could they possibly want? he thought, opening up his messages.

mikey: we didn’t have time for a meeting today but who’s watching y/n tomorrow? kakucho can’t do it two nights in a row.

he tsk’d. he’d do this for the rest of his life if he had too, no questions asked.

kakucho: i don’t mind doing it tomorrow too.

mikey: no. you need rest, won’t be as reliable if you’re tired.

he bit his lip, tapping impatiently on his phone.

kakucho: i could just rest during the day.

mikey: i said no. it’s not an option. i don’t want anyone doing two nights in a row.

ran: i could probs do it or rin?

fuck. he grimaced, thinking about how ran wouldn’t hesitate to flirt with you. he remembers the day that he caught you letting ran sleep in your lap, your fingers running through his hair. not to mention, rindou, who already has you dancing in his office, you’d probably dance with him here too. at least, he thinks, it’s not sanzu. between the two brothers though, he’d probably hope for rindou.

mikey: sure, idc as long as someone does it.

rindou: i think i’m busy tomorrow night? have some stuff to clean up, it’s gonna have to be u ran

ran: alright lol

fuck. kakucho rubs his face, bouncing his leg as he sets his phone down. he paces the room, carefully trying to not wake you up. but the idea of ran flirting with you and you laughing, crinkling your nose, like you always do has him up the walls. would you playfully hit his arm like usual? would you let him touch you, hands trailing down your back? would you let him kiss you? god forbid, would you let him fuck you?

he runs a hand through his hair, his rage starting to consume him. there was one stream-line thought, hammering itself and taking hold of his brain: he has to be your first. he eyes the closed bedroom door. he’s done this before, he thinks, kicking off his shoes. just never while you’re actually in your bedroom. he takes a deep breath, before lightly placing his hand on the knob. slowly, he turns it, opening and entering into your room.

moonlight spills across your bed, illuminating your face in the dark. you snore softly, the exhaustion not only physical, but mental, wearing on you. the danger of having your brains blown out at any given moment loomed over you every day, suffocating every waking moment. you were on edge, always, and rightfully so. that’s why you felt safe with kakucho, utterly and completely safe. but that’s because you had never noticed the hurt in his eyes when you’d turn away from him. or the way his jaw tensed when you’d get “too close” to other executives. not once did you see the longing stares from across the room during meetings, too focused on writing down as many notes as you could hanging onto every word.

so you slept, peaceful and content, completely unaware that your protector was longing to keep you pinned underneath him as he had his way with you. if only you knew the things that he would do to you. slowly, he crept towards your dozing figure. your bed dipped as he came closer, a gloved hand pulling down your blanket. you twitched and he paused, watching as you made a little noise in response to the sudden cold shift.

his heart was pounding as he left light touches, ghosting over your exposed skin. he hooks a finger under your waistband, inching down your pajama shorts. he removes one glove, his hands burning with desire to truly feel you before he uses one finger to trail down the length of your clothed cunt.

you stir once more and he pauses again. is he really doing this? there’s no way you wouldn’t wake and yet he can’t find it in him to care. so he continues, gently carressing your core, every so often glasting over your thighs. little moans and mewls came from you and kakucho could feel his patience thinning. he wanted to take his time, explore every inch of you, but if just those small touches could get you writhing underneath him what would happen if he did more?

removing his other glove and casting it onto the floor, he starts to remove your panties. he throws them near his gloves, a reminder to take them for later. settling himself in between your thighs, he presses a kiss to your pussy. his breath is hot as he licks a stripe from your hole to clit. hooking his arms around your thighs, he holds you in place as you start to squirm in your sleep. he spreads your folds, admiring your pretty pussy before he dives back in, eagerly licking at your clit.

he watches you through half lidded eyes as your features contort, your mouth a small “o”. he switches between sucking on your clit like it’s candy and burying his tongue deep inside curling up against your walls. you eyelids flutter as you wake, drool dribbling down your chin.

“wha- ah!” you gasp, roused from sleep with hands shooting down and tugging onto his dark locks. he groans, brows knitting as he continues fucking you on his tongue.

your vision is blurry, only the moonlight that seeps in through the window illuminating your view. but you see him, eyes lidded, looking up at you in nigh worship, as he licks and kisses and slurps at your arousal.

“k-kakucho?” you stutter out, “fuck, what are you-“ you’re interrupted again, as he slips a finger, then two into your dripping cunt.

“cum for me, pretty girl.” he murmurs against you, his fingers brushing against parts of you that set your legs trembling. you try to resist at first, confusion tumbling through your brain, but with one more curl of his fingers you release, eyes rolled back, toes curling and body shaking. kakucho keeps his mouth on you, lost in the taste of your fluids until he feels you pushing on his shoulders.

“t-too much, kaku, s-stop,” you pant, tears pricking at your eyes. he pulls away, reluctantly, a sticky line of spit and cum trailing from your pussy to his lips follow him as he inches forward, suddenly crashing his lips into yours.

you taste yourself on his lips, melting into the kiss. he kisses you deep, before pulling away and peppering kisses onto your jawline and neck. it’s messy, wet, and you’re still dazed from your post orgasm high. it’s odd to think about how you were peacefully sleeping not too long ago and maybe this is still a dream? it certainly feels like it, your head light and fuzzy as kakucho kisses every inch of your face.

it’s not until you feel something blunt and hard rubbing in between your folds that you snap out of your dream-like state. he’s undressed himself now, his clothes mixing with yours as if he really did live there. as if you two really did belong to one another. glancing down, you see his cock, hard and angry, pre-cum glistening on his tip.

he lines himself up with your hole and you start with a “wait-“, but he doesn’t listen, slowly sinking into your cunt. you moan at the stretch, gripping the sheets underneath you. “kakucho, i told you-“

“i can’t fuckin’ wait! okay?” he snaps and you flinch, diverting your eyes from him. he grips your chin, digging into your skin and forcing you to look back at him. desperation fills not only his eyes but his voice, “do you know how long i’ve wanted this?”

he continues rambling as he pushes into you, “do you know how fucking hard it was to watch you every day knowing that you weren’t coming home to me? every fucking day where you’d turn away from me to look at someone else? to be with someone else?”

it’s the way he words it as if you really were seeing someone else, completely aware of his feelings for you or maybe it’s the vitriol laced in each word that sends a creeping blush up on your face. he sounded so mean, completely different from the tender tone you had known. honestly, you kind of liked it.

you claw at his arms, back arching off the bed as he sinks deeper. “you’re fucking mine,” he says through grit teeth as he bottoms out. “all fucking mine.” he presses his forehead to you, hips flush against yours. “fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

he pulls himself until he’s almost completely out and you whine at the loss. he mumbles, “i’ll give you what you want, pretty girl.” right before he slams himself back in.

you gasp as he starts fucking you, his pace brutal and unforgiving, you were his and he was going to make sure you knew that. pushing your knees up to your chest your eyes roll back again because he’s just so deep. the drag of your walls around his leaking cock is euphoric. he drinks in all of your mewls and moans as he continues to hit that sweet spot inside you, love drunk on the sound of your voice.

“‘m close,” you rasp, looking up at him through glassy eyes. “p-please kaku, can i?”

“can you what baby? be specific.” he tuts, but his head is spinning and his heart is swelling.

“kaku, please, i wanna cum,” you babble, tongue lolling out of you slightly. he slows down to a full stop and you desperately try to grind back against him. “please! please, i want it!” you cry, tears starting to freely fall down your pretty face.

“yeah honey? you wanna cum on my cock?” he coos and you nod vigorously, “then tell me who you belong to, who gets to fuck you like this?”

“you! i belong to you, kaku, only you,” you sniffle up at him and he smiles, finally starting to move again. you wrap your arms around him as he angles himself so he can hit that spot that has you seeing stars with each thrust.

snaking a hand down to play with your clit, you sob out, as he rubs sticky circles. you’re so close the added stimulation has you clenching and dripping around him. “let go, princess.” he says, and you do, falling apart on him. legs kicking wildly, your pussy squeezes down on him and he follows you soon after, thick, hot seed spilling deep into your cunt.

he pushes himself up, leaning back and gently pulling out. wincing at the loss, you turn onto your side, curling up on yourself, too exhausted to care about the amount of cum not only leaking out of you but splashed onto your bed and thighs. your hair sticks to your sweaty forehead, you feel full and utterly spent.

you close your eyes, trying to calm your breathing as your body continues to twitch from post orgasm, little hiccups escaping your mouth here and there. the calm doesn’t last long and soon you feel a hand on your hip, flipping you onto your stomach. you wail, gripping the sheets, as you feel kakucho pull you back to slip into you, again.

“i wasn’t done with you,” he growls, leaning down to press his chest against your back. you can’t really talk much at this point, brain mushy and fuzzy, so you whimper out a small “mm.”

he wraps his arm around your neck, keeping you in a near chokehold as he pistons into you. the squelch of fluids and the slapping of skin fills the room once more. something about the way he fucks you is different now, his thrusts are sloppy, needy and his moans tickle your ear.

“i love you,” he chants, “i really fucking love you.” you don’t know what to say, pleasure taking over you again, so you ignore the little voice in the back of your head screaming to say it back and moan into his arm.

he moves his free hand down to hook behind your knee, sliding it up to spread your legs further. you try to keel up into him, one hand grabbing at arm curled around your neck, but he has you caged. you’re almost entirely sure you’re drooling over his arm. with your head tilted towards him, you glance up with glassy eyes, mouth open and panting.

you think he looks pretty like this, looking down at you, brows knit. you’re not sure if you love him, but you do love the way his dick slides in and out of your tight hole. “f-feels good,” you slur, “feels so, ah!, good,” you can feel your orgasm blooming again, heat bubbling in your gut.

“gonna cream on my cock again?” he grunts, thinking how after this there’s no way you wouldn’t be his wife… right?

“yeah, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl and kakucho’s thrusting his tongue into your mouth. the added stimulation is enough and you’re both unravelling. your eyes cross with the intensity of your orgasm, as your entire body shakes. he can feel you squeezing down and milking his cock as you moan into each other.

your head lolls onto the bed as kakucho’s grip loosens. he buries his face into your neck and you stay like this for a bit, heavy breaths and sticky bodies. he gently pulls out as he rolls over, one arm draped over his forehead.

you’re not sure you would look down even if you had the strength, your body limp. but you can feel it, you can feel his cum seeping out of your cunt. your bed is probably a mess.

you prop yourself up onto your elbows as best you can, “that… was the last time… for tonight, okay?” you pout. you'd probably actually pass out if he wanted to go again.

he moves his arm off, sitting up immediately. his look is incredulous, maybe even hopeful, “for tonigh-“

“or ever!” you interrupt, reaching for him and wincing. “oh, ow.” your entire body is aching so you opt for curling in on yourself again.

“… sorry,” he says sheepishly, one hand on his neck, “i didn’t mean to-“

“you don’t have to lie, i know you did.” you mumble, peeking up at him.

shame crashes over him and he gets up to get dressed, trying to not look at you. i fucked up, he thinks, until you grab his wrist and he looks down at you, a blush tinting his features. funny, as if he didn’t almost just fuck the life out of you.

you spread your arms, a blush on your face as well, “stay with me?” except it sounds more like a command than a question. and he does, getting back onto the bed and melting into your embrace.

he moves and positions you so that you’re resting with your head against his chest. he trails your lower back with his hand absently, making small shapes across your skin. it’s quiet, cozy, and there’s so many things you want to ask before you drift off into sleep, but he speaks first.

“could you do me a favor?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your head. you can’t see it, but there’s a smile gracing his face. you're warm and everything he wants.

“mm, sure?” you reply, sleepiness starting to overtake you.

“tell mikey you wanna stay at my place tomorrow.”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #kakucho #kakucho x reader #kakucho hitto #kakucho smut #tokyo revengers x reader #bonten #nah i feel like u can tell i rly ran out of steam but was foo far in to give up LMFAOOOO #oh wellll if its bad smut its baaaaaddd #also the way i cringed realizing y/n isnt gonna piss after all that like girl please take a bath... im not writing it but take a bath.#pibby writing

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