#you find work you enjoy and it takes almost a year before you can find joy in art again but you will find it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writerpetals · 2 days

Text

care for you | 🔞

; optional male lead smut | ☁️

w; ass play, semi-public sex, younger mmc, sugarmama!au (i'm queuing up some posts for this week ~)

What started as nothing more than one night of release for your overworked and exhausted body has somehow turned into more than you ever pictured yourself dabbling into with someone so much younger. Not like your hectic work life that painfully bleeds into your personal one ever allows you time for a relationship, but you’re pretty confident in assuming he doesn’t want as much either.

He doesn’t mind, however, enjoying the lavish life you live the few moments out of the year you’re not working, tagging along with you on trips of both pleasure and business. Spoiling him can’t be helped when he offers such intense pleasure in return, and you find yourself needing him to ease the tension from your muscles and the worries from your mind more often than not.

He flies with you to different countries paid for by you, not hesitating to send your body into the most relaxed state as soon as you board the plane and his hand is between your thighs and his mouth against your neck. The glances and side eyes from nosey passengers in first class bother neither of you , because how could it when the moment he slips his fingers into your panties, you’re clutching your thighs around him and biting your lip to keep quiet.

He’s devilish and sneaky at times, loving to offer a distraction from work because he knows how well you need one. In the cab he can’t keep his hands off of you, and at the hotel bar he teases your thighs beneath your dress while you sip on your gin and tonic. Even a few hours on the white, sandy beaches when you have the day off turns into him slipping between your legs and easing into you as you lay beneath a colorful, shaded umbrella. Maybe he cares more than he’s willing to admit, and maybe you do as well, so you tell yourself he only enjoys an older woman’s experience and money while you enjoy his eagerness along with his willingness to please.

In the morning, he barely waits for you to crawl out of bed and shower before he’s wrapping an arm around your body to pull you back in. You should have known something was off when he didn’t even bother to dress himself after awakening, deciding to walk around in the nude while brushing his teeth and washing his face, but you couldn't complain when you’re allowed the view to study the muscles in his body as well as the curves of his ass and thighs on display.

You warn him you’ll be late for your meeting with the executives you traveled so far to see, to which he can only reply with a groan once he pushes you against the bed and grips your waist. Taking in the sight of your half-exposed slit fresh and clean from the shower makes it hard to care about the dull meeting, and you know it’s only because he becomes too bored and lonely while you’re working that he couldn’t give two fucks if you make the men wait on you.

You exhale a reply of his name, fingers clutching the fresh, white sheets beneath you as he pulls the damp towel from your body so you’re fully on display. “I really… really have to go.” You hardly sound convincing as you mutter the words, and the chuckle you receive in return lets you know as much.

“I won’t take long,” he groans, palms gripping your ass to spread you farther apart for him. Your face buried in the soft linens does little for your attempts at arguing, so you remain quiet and allow him to proceed. The way you begin to ache for him offers no help either way. “I was a bit rough on you last night, baby.”

The way his tone deepens and the words seem almost forced out in a groan have you quivering before he’s even touched you. Steady, gentle palms soothe the markings he left on you the night before, and even if his words are true in the fact that he was less that careful fucking you because it’s the way you like it, you know his attention this morning is only a distraction so you will stay with him a bit longer.

“I just want to make you feel good, now.” With another breathy chuckle, he slips his knuckles over your slit, causing you to flinch and attempt to pull away from how damn sensitive he has left you. “Will you let me, baby? The meeting can wait. I just want to taste you before you leave.”

There’s no use in denying him. Not when your body craves his touch. And not when he’s so damn skilled with his tongue it nearly pisses you off at times. He shouldn't know how to make you so weak with the simplest of requests and he shouldn’t know how to make you come better than men your own age, but you chalk it up to his ability to pay attention to your body and his willingness to learn what pleases you most.

“Yes,” you whimper against the sheets, tugging the fabric hard enough to have your nails scratching your palms the moment he lowers himself with his knees to the floor behind you, feeling his breath against your skin.

He pushes your hips higher, aligning your ass perfectly in the air for his viewing pleasure, and once his lips press to your skin, the meeting is the furthest thing from your mind. Gentle kisses paint your ass as he takes his time, drawing out the moment because he will be damned if you’re not wet and thinking of him the entire time you’re gone. His hands hold your thighs in place, fingers pressed tightly to your legs as his mouth begins to wander once he’s satisfied he’s kissed away the soreness.

“Please.” It’s a bit shameful to beg him so early on, and maybe even more so because you’re older and should have more control. But as his breath ghosts hot against your center, just waiting for the perfect moment to give in, you can’t help but to become impatient. You ache for him, already beginning to feel the warmth surge and the arousal pool at your entrance.

With a single lick up your slit, from your mound to your tightened rosebud, your body attempts to lunge forward as your back arches and your jaw slacks. To say he took you by surprise would be an understatement, but luckily his firm grip on your thighs keeps you in place as he repeats the motion. The third time he decides to taste you from top to bottom, he drags his tongue painfully slow over your flesh, lapping up your juices to spread to spread over your ass and mix with his saliva.

You whine his name, trying to push your body into him, but it only earns a dark, teasing laugh before he presses his tongue to your ass. A gasp fills his ears to satisfy his ego, knowing how much you love when he circles the puckered rim extra slowly before tasting you with the flat of his tongue. “Fuck.” You clutch the sheets tighter each second that passes, with your clit throbbing and desperately needing attention while he toys with your ass.

“You taste so good, baby,” he informs you, each word between a kiss he trails down your slit. Until he reaches your clit and decides to finally give in to have you gasping all over again. He circles the swollen, aching nub with a pointed tongue before pressing flat against your flesh to lap up your juices dripping down your folds. Then he presses his lips to your skin. “I could eat you out all-” Kiss. “-fucking-” Another. “-day.”

With that, he begins to press open-mouthed kisses against your soaked slit to have you whimpering, with his tongue catching every drop of your juices from top to bottom. The sinful noises of his pleasure never fail to bring goosebumps to your skin as his motions become a desperate attempt at tasting you. You can only imagine how his face glistens against the light as he buries his mouth deeper against your body and with the way he groans against your pussy and ass, you know he enjoys it just as much as you.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he growls once he pulls away for only a moment. “You’re dripping all down your thighs and onto the bed.” With that, he presses his tongue to your mound to catch the arousal trickling down to dampen the sheets. All before he eases his tongue between your folds to massage your clit, earning a cry of his name as you push your body against his face.

He doesn’t reject you, allowing you to control the pressure before your hips are rolling against him and you’re fucking his tongue to relieve the pressure. His groans against your body encourage you to keep going, riding his face as he licks, and sucks, and buries himself deeper between your folds.

“Fuck,” you begin to whimper without shame, rolling your hips harder against him as you feel the warmth bursting between your thighs, “I-I’m so close.”

He only grips your thighs tighter and encourages you to lean against him, pulling on your legs until you’re pushing yourself from the bed. Your arms extend straight to hoist yourself up and you’re nearly sitting on his face as he tastes you from behind with a craned neck, but the pleasure is too intense as his tongue massages in circles and you’re trembling in his grasp.

Once the pleasure swells and the first rush of warmth floods from your center, your arms grow too weak as you collapse against the bed. A shaky cry of his name is all he receives as the bliss surges through you, continuing to shake in his arms and becoming so breathless, speechless, and unable to even pull away as he continues massaging your clit with his tongue. He doesn’t remove his mouth from your body as you come undone, loving how much wetter you become, how much sweeter you taste.

When the pleasure becomes overwhelming, you reach your hand behind you to push him away gently, seconds before collapsing on the bed as he chuckles proudly behind you. You can hardly keep your eyes open to see where he goes after he stands, hearing him rummaging behind you for a bit but you’re too relaxed to even care.

When he returns, a tap of his fingers against your ass pulls you from your post-bliss state, eyes fluttering open to see him standing behind you with a pair of your panties.

“I-I need to clean up first...” It’s almost as if you’re drunk from pleasure as you speak, attempting to rise from the bed, to which a simple arm around your torso assists you. Thankfully, he’s strong enough for you to nearly collapse against him all over again, earning a cocky grin over his lips in return for his self-proclaimed job well done.

“No,” he simply says, voice stern and it makes your eyes grow wide. Before you can reply, he slips his hand between your thighs to have you gasping and tightening around him. Unfortunately for you, he’s able to shove two fingers in your drenched walls without effort, paying no mind to how sensitive he has left you or the fact that the pressure has you weak in the knees, ready to topple over.

You whine, high-pitched and so taken off guard.

“Put your panties on, baby,” he says, voice so deep you can’t help but to listen, “so you’ll be wet enough to think of only me the entire time you’re gone.”

And then he finally pulls his fingers from within, leaving you trembling and suddenly craving for him all over again. With parted lips and wide eyes, you can’t dare look away as he brings his fingers up to his mouth before licking them clean, making sure you will hardly be able to think about anything else during your meeting.

***

He seems to show up at your work when you least expect it. When the day has been too long and you’re too tired of cursing beneath your breath at incompetent business partners and their horrible ideas. When you’re too frustrated and fed up with having to prove yourself over and over. When all people can see you for are curves and a cute smile and no one really gives a shit about how incredibly smart you are or the fact that you’ve managed to run your own company longer than most of these men can keep wives.

As horrible as it may be, you’re beyond done going above and beyond when everyone else seems to do the bare minimum to get praise. And no one sees you pinching your nose at the start of your headache once you’re able to get a quiet moment behind your desk. No one sees the deep breaths you take to calm your anger from bubbling over at the sheer stupidity nor do they realize how your mind is constantly spinning with innovative ideas and working overtime to not only make a good future for yourself, but your faithful employees beneath you.

He seems to notice the moment he steps into your office. There’s a brown paper bag in his hand and a grin on his lips from sneaking past your secretary. Not that she would question the younger man showing up to your office every once in a while, but you’ve made it clear to him not to make it a habit so rumors don’t escalate. The last thing you need is everyone calling you Ms. Cougar.

“I brought you lunch!” he says with a proud grin, puffing his chest as he places the bag on the clear, glass surface of your desk and it makes your heart flutter in ways you try to ignore. You can’t develop feelings when it was only supposed to be a form of stress relief from your hectic, busy life. He would only be a distraction, falling in love with his thoughtfulness, his ability to know your moods, his ways at calming your mind and your body. You remind yourself it would be a horrible idea to get wrapped up in the younger boy, so you try to push the thoughts aside simply due to it being such a reckless, terrible thing to do.

At least, you tell yourself that.

“It’s six in the evening.” You can’t help but to grin, and your stomach rumbles, giving away that you skipped lunch to squeeze in another meeting with a moronic business partner, but he already knows you too well. It’s not uncommon for you to forget to eat, which is why he makes these sudden stops to your office when you’ve ignored his texts asking if you’ve had lunch.

“Well, I brought you dinner, then. You need to eat,” he replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck while the black sleeves of his t-shirt tighten around his bicep to make your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The boy doesn’t even know what he does to you, causing you to cross one leg over the other as your heart pounds away.

“Eating is the last thing on my mind after the day I’ve had.” You spare him the dirty details of the exhausting meetings and aggravation, but he’s more than aware what you mean when you make such comments.

“Are you tense?” he questions, already making his way around your desk as his boots scuff the dark, wood floor panels. “Need a message?” A wicked smile forms on his lips after asking, and your gaze lowers to see him pulling the shiny, silver-plated rings you bought him during a trip out of the country from his fingers before setting them against the desk.

“I’m fine, really,” you mutter with a shake of your head, but all it takes is one finger held up from his hand to cause you to turn in your chair, allowing your back to face him as your knee presses to the armrest.

Before you can say much else, his hands fall to your very tense, very tight shoulders, but before he begins his massage, his mouth lowers to your ear. “You should know better than to argue with me, sweetheart.” His sudden, husky tone catches you off guard. The breath against your neck earns goosebumps over your skin, and you can only press your thighs tighter together.

Though, it’s not his tone or the breath against your flesh that has your heart beating twice as fast, but the nickname he saves only when he wants to make it known he needs to care for you. The first time it slipped from his lips, you had come down sick and he made it his sole mission to nurse you back to health. You thought he was only being sweet on you, until the second time when you had the worst possible day at the office and he made it better by kissing your tears, slipping between your thighs, and muttering the endearment until his heart’s content. From that moment on, you knew it was a sign of intimate affection, and you never questioned him twice about it. Maybe you pay attention to the little details just as much as him, but it would be a terrible idea to admit it.

You don’t think twice about arguing with him once his hands begin to work over your thin, silk blouse. He digs his fingers into the tense muscles to draw out soft sighs and whimpers, until your eyes are fluttering and you almost forget where you are for the moment.

“You should eat something,” he says once he gets the opportunity to speak between the noises he's causing you to make. “I bought you a grapefruit salad. Your favorite.”

And in the middle of the bliss swelling you to the brim, you manage to snicker at the comment. “My favorite? Who says?”

“You said the last time you ate one at that restaurant we went to,” he informs you, slightly offended you would even question his knowledge of you and for that, you have to give him credit.

“You mean the restaurant in Cabo? Do you know how drunk I was after having that meeting all day and then I didn’t even make the deal with those jerks? Anything would have tasted amazing, then.”

“I see,” he hums, continuing to work his fingers into your shoulders, until his grip slips down your arms and back again, sending a shiver down your spine. “Is that why you let me finger you beneath the table before the appetizer even arrived?”

Heat floods to your cheeks at the memory, the details of being beyond worked up and needing release still so fresh in your mind. The alcohol certainly helped, right along with knowing his skilled fingers would put your body at ease within moments.

“Maybe…” you whisper in return, biting your lip while hoping he didn’t realize how unsteady, how breathless your voice has become as the images flash in your mind, trying hard not to think about his hand slipping beneath your skirt that night, or the way he bit his lip and groaned upon feeling how wet you were.

“Maybe you need the same kind of attention, sweetheart,” he whispers, once again deep and husky in your ear and it takes a miracle to be able to hold back a whimper when he presses his lips to your neck.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You try to feign innocence, knowing the last thing you need is someone barging in your office and catching your younger and devastatingly hot man toy getting you off when you should be working. But it’s clear exactly what he means once his hands move to the front of your blouse, slipping lower to pop a few buttons loose. You remind yourself to steady your breaths as you whisper his name, eyes glancing toward the door, thankful the long, glass window is the only one in the office and the blinds were shut the moment you escaped the stresses of the day to try to rid yourself of a pounding headache.

“Come here,” is all he says, not bothering to answer the question before guiding you to your feet with a hand beneath your elbow. You follow his instructions, rising from the chair, but before you can call his name once again, he lifts you against the desk after spinning your body around to face him. His palms remain on your hips, thumbs caressing lovingly into your sides as his gaze meets your own. Suddenly, his eyes seem darker, full of desire and passion and you know there is no use fighting against his ways of care and attention. The younger man is stubborn, yet he knows what you need, when you need it, but it would definitely be a terrible, terrible idea to take that fact to heart, of course.

You simply call his name again, not wanting to argue, yet not wanting to get caught. But he ignores you, hands rising to release the last, few buttons of your blouse until your silky, black lingerie is exposed. He takes one look at you before he can’t hold back a groan, eyes studying the curve of your breasts, your bare tummy, and all the way to where the hem of your skirt rests against your skin. Palms slipping up your sides allow for his thumbs to reach your hardened nipples visible even beneath your bra. He teases the erect buds for a moment, brushing the pads of his thumbs gently over the surface and you can’t help but to push your chest into his grasp.

“Just let me take care of you,” he exhales, and his lidded eyes and bitten lips a second later convince you to do just that. There’s no use worrying over getting caught or someone finding out enough about your personal life to spread gossip. Not when his mouth presses against your own or his tongue slips over your bottom lip to have you allowing him entrance.

A soft whimper vibrates his skin, causing him to groan and deepen the kiss with his hands lowering and pulling you close by your waist while his tongue massages yours in the sweetest, softest of motions. Your hands rise to press palms against his broad, strong chest, feeling his muscles tighten beneath your touch while you inhale deeply to take in his intoxicating, yet familiar aroma of a citrus and pine cologne you gifted him a few months prior. It doesn’t take long for his hands to wander as he pulls away with a nip of his teeth against your bottom lip. Fingers lowering to your thighs to hike your skirt higher has your skin flushing beneath his touch. And when you shimmy side to side to allow him to push the fabric up to your waist, you shiver under his gaze as he stares down at your matching, silk panties on display.

Without saying a word, he concentrates on his task of hooking his fingers into the band of your panties. Once again you shift side to side until he peels the thin fabric down your legs and past your heels, leaving your center bare, open, and glistening for him after parting your legs. With a lick of his lips, he never pulls his eyes away while pressing his thumb to your mound, watching you shiver beneath his touch once he drags his thumb down your slit and back again.

A hand lowers to his growing length beneath his faded, denim jeans, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. All you can do is look at the outline of his cock beneath his pants while melting into the way he touches beneath your legs. He takes his time, not bothering how it looks to anyone else to disappear into your office for what feels like forever, brushing his thumb over your folds to coat his flesh in your arousal and spread it to your clit once he focuses his attention on the swollen, throbbing bud.

“You still seem tense,” he comments, a smirk on his lips you notice the moment you glance toward his face. Then you’re drawn back down to his cock once again, watching him tend to his erect length with a careful palm, but he never stops teasing your slit with his thumb.

“Well, it’s not like we’ve ever done this in my office,” you manage to reply, a heavy exhale slipping from your lips once he begins circling your clit with his thumb. “With all of my employees and my assistant right outside.”

“Nervous?” he asks with a chuckle. Clearly he has no qualms about pleasuring you anywhere, anytime, and the thought sends a chill straight down your spine. Before you can reply, he manages to twist his hand around so his knuckles brush against your folds. The sensation has you threatening to clasp your thighs around his hand, but you remain steady, although your eyelids flutter to a close while taking another deep breath.

“M-maybe,” you mumble, trying to focus on your breathing and your words, but the feeling of his thumb against your clit while his fingers tease your entrance has you breathless and unable to speak a proper sentence.

“Why?” You don’t even need to look at him to know of the cocky smirk planted on his lips. His tone says it all, as he asks and as he taunts you further while circling your entrance with his index finger. “Because they will figure out you’re dating me, or because you don’t want them to know how good I make you feel?”

The urge to comment on his use of the word ‘dating’ diminishes the moment he slips a finger inside of you, earning a gasp as he plunges the digit in deep before curling toward your g-spot. Your thighs tremble around him, gaping and pushing your hips into the motions of his thumb caressing your clit and his index finger burying deep within your walls.

“Fuck,” you gasp, head rolling back with a bitten lip a moment later.

“God, you’re already so wet, dripping against my fingers,” he groans, more to himself than to you, and without warning, he pulls his finger from you only to insert two digits this time. Your walls tighten around him, hips rocking against his hand, against the pleasurable motions while your clit aches and throbs beneath his thumb and your body becomes so hot, flushed from the sinful actions. “You really needed this, didn’t you, sweetheart? Relax and let me make you feel good.”

You do as he says, deciding to wrap both arms around his neck to pull him closer, lips colliding with lips and tongues exploring one another in the best way the two of you know how. You can’t help but to whimper into the kiss, feeling him bury his fingers so deep before curling the digits inside of you, urging the noises from your lips while his thumb tends to your clit in gentle, steady circles.

You whimper his name once you pull away from his lips, “don’t stop.” A hand resting at the back of his neck falls to grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin as soft moans and desperate whimpers fill your office.

“No longer nervous, sweetheart?” he teases you, pushing his fingers deeper, harder within you while circling his thumb quicker. “I can feel you tightening around me. Does it feel that good?” His words are only fuel to the fire burning deep and hot in the pit of your stomach. The flames lick in sudden desperation between your thighs, seering with temptation and it causes you not to care about anyone else but him and you.

“Y-yes,” you gasp, trembling against him while burying your face into his chest. The heat rises, swelling between your thighs and it consumes your body quicker than you would like. The bliss that follows has the room spinning and you can’t help but to tighten your thighs around his hand. A roll of your hips against his motions allows him to see just how much you enjoy the pleasure, urging him to continue, to pump his fingers deeper, harder, and to caress your clit faster, wild with no mercy. “D-don’t stop. I’m-I’m-”

Your words fall to a deafening silence as the first wave of bliss rolls through your body. Your walls contract around his fingers buried deep inside of you as you come undone, trembling and whimpering his name. Your juices leak onto his hand, coating his flesh in slick, sticky essence and the only sounds that fill the office are the ones emitting from between your legs as he continues to finger you through your high. Your hips roll wildly against him, becoming greedy for more before it’s all too much and you can only grip his hand to stall his motions.

It takes all of five seconds to register how quickly he got you off. Heat rushes to your cheeks, but it’s not the kind of heat reserved for desire or pleasure. You’re suddenly too shy to look at him, realizing you absolutely did need the release he offered and it shows with every moment. From your tense muscles, to your arousal dripping just for him, and even the speed at which he made you come, you can’t deny he knows the perfect ways to unwind your body and mind when you crave it the most.

“No need to be shy now, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle, hand leaving his length straining against his jeans to press a finger beneath your chin. Your eyes meet his own, noticing the way his lips curl in a devious smirk a second before he eases his fingers from between your thighs. Immediately you feel emptier than you would like without him, but your eyes pop the moment you witness the digits rising to his lips as they part and he sneaks his fingers inside his mouth. He doesn’t allow you to turn away as he sucks them clean, enjoying the taste of you coming on his fingers and all you can do is bite your lip while watching him lick every last drop.

“You should eat something,” he repeats once he pulls his fingers away. Though, eating is once again the last thing on your mind, but for different reasons. You can hardly breathe properly from the sight you witnessed, becoming a mess all over again watching him taste the remnants of your climax on his skin. Eating hardly seems important, especially when your thighs continue to shake and your walls are still spasming post-orgasm.

“And you should,” you begin, but are quickly interrupted by the devilish, younger boy’s lips crashing into your own, earning another soft, gentle whimper against his flesh before he pulls away just as fast, “sit back.”

“Sit back?” The puzzled look on his face has you giggling, all before you press two, shaky palms to his chest to push him down into your chair.

“Sit back and let me repay the favor.” Now it’s your turn to have a smirk curling on your lips, watching his eyes grow wide and his jaw slack as you drop to your knees before tugging at the button and zipper to his jeans. To make matters worse — or better, for him — you get the courageous ideas to pick your panties up from the floor before easing his cock out of his black, cotton boxer-briefs. With the thin, silky fabric in your palm, you grip him tightly, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head as a deep rumble emits from his chest in satisfaction.

Two can play that game, you think, knowing he’s not the only one that deserves attention, especially when he treats you so well and tends to your every need. Work and silly rumors be damned. You love watching the bliss fill his face as you slip the panties and your palm up and down his length, all before leaning closer to swipe your tongue across the slit of his tip.

“You’re already so worked up,” you tease him after licking up the precum from the head of his cock, noticing the way he grips the armrests with every prominent vein bulging before he bucks his hips for more. “You must need this.” He doesn’t find humor in the words as you do, enjoying the way the silk feels against his cock as you work his length while flicking your tongue against the tip.

“Don’t,” he exhales, then groans and pushes his hips toward your mouth once again, “don’t tease me.”

“You’re so hard, baby,” you continue the verbal torture, working your palm faster against his cock, silk panties easing up and down his skin to have him hissing in return. You can’t help it. You love watching his face twist in pleasure. The way his brow wrinkles has warmth flooding your body all over again. The way he bites his lips has you pressing your thighs close together. And his tightened jaw and unsteady breaths encourage you to go further.

“Of course I am,” he breathes, trying to focus on speaking even with your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, “making you come in minutes has that effect on me.”

He has a point, silencing all teasing as he uses your own embarrassment against you. But his chest swells with pride and you realize you can’t be too worried when he knows how to treat your body in the way you like. In return, you’ve learned a few tricks to use against him as well. You remove your hand for a moment to cup his balls with the silk panties still in your grip, mouth lowering down his length while your tongue massages the underside until he hits the back of your throat. Then you're pulling away in a desperate need for air. His groan at the sensation fills your own chest with pride, daring to take him in again until his hand reaches for the back of your head.

“God, baby,” he huffs, hips bucking into your mouth once you pull away to tend to the tip of his cock, his fingers entangling into the strands of your hair. “Your mouth always feels so amazing, fuck.” His praise never fails to have you feeling so full, so satisfied in a way no man has before. You enjoy filling him with bliss, watching his jaw tighten, hearing his groans and huffs, and feeling him fuck his cock into your mouth.

Your tongue swirls around the tip before your lips enclose over his length, eyes never leaving his face. His teeth sink into his bottom lip, groaning through the grip upon feeling you suck lightly on his cock, tongue massaging the prominent vein beneath as your hand works his balls with panties still in your grip. Noticing his Adam’s apple bob before he’s gasping and panting tells you he won’t last much longer. Not after watching you get off and now getting his cock sucked as a thank you.

Your mouth lowers down his shaft once again, head bobbing slightly while enjoying the noises spilled from his lips. Little huffs and groans turn into curses beneath his breath until he can hold back no longer. His hips jut forward, meeting your mouth and you can’t help but to whimper against his cock. His muscles tense seconds before he grows quiet, holding his breath as the first, few drops of his cum spill into your mouth, and you accept his release willingly. Your hand rises to grip his length once again, pumping every last drop onto your tongue so you can suck, and swallow, and have him gasping for air when you fail to stop even as he begins to come down from the bliss.

Licking him clean, you notice his eyes flutter open before he studies the sight of your tongue trailing his slit and around the tip. His nostrils flare as he takes a few deep, much-needed breaths, chest heaving and tense beneath his tight, black t-shirt. When his hand falls from the back of your head, you finally pull away from him, licking your lips clean before the corners twist in a proud smirk.

Once you rise to your feet after he’s adjusted himself and his pants, he’s quick to stand and pull you into his arms. And again, your heart is fluttering and your stomach is performing backflips as he leans down, pressing his lips to your skin in a sudden, yet sweet attack of soft, gentle kisses to have you giggling. You quickly push him away with hands on his chest before you can get too wrapped up in him, deciding to fix the stray strands of hair he disheveled in the heat of the moment, and he takes it upon himself to begin buttoning your blouse.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, grin forming on his lips.

“So?” you repeat, looking away with warmth swelling in your cheeks.

“Are you finally going to eat, now?” He stares down at you with determination in his eyes, and all you can do is huff and nod, turning to grab the brown paper bag he brought for you.

“Yes, I’ll eat.”

“Good,” he replies, and has no problems playfully smacking your ass and stepping away to make it around your desk before you can retaliate.

And it would be a terrible idea to think twice about his stubbornness in wanting you not to skip meals, because it would be horrible to come to terms with the way your heart swells if you think about how much the two of you actually care for one another.

***

No matter how much you toss and turn beneath the sheets in an attempt to become comfortable, or how tight you shut your eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep. Even though your body is exhausted from a long work week and you assumed you were ready to unwind for a relaxing weekend, your mind won’t shut off as it spins with constant worries. Reminders of important dates and scheduled meetings pop into your thoughts, preventing you from even coming close to drifting off to sleep regardless if your body aches for a good night’s rest.

You turn over in your bed to face your alarm clock, reading the bright red numbers that tell you it’s just a little past midnight. You wonder how you could lack energy all day, but become wide awake as soon as your body climbs into bed as you release a frustrated groan. Maybe you’re just too busy lately, finding it to be a hectic time of the year before summer where you need to land deals and get your projects aligned to begin more work in the fall. Oh, how you could use another vacation in Cabo. If only time would allow.

As you ponder over the thoughts and images of the white beaches and blue ocean beneath a warm sun and clear skies, your phone buzzes next to you on the nightstand. The light flicks on, nearly blinding you in the dark room as you reach for the device, spotting his name pop up on the screen once your eyes adjust.

“Hello?” you answer in a sleepy tone, instantly hearing commotion in the background before his voice fills your ears with words that are a bit slurred.

“Baby,” he groans into the receiver, tone deeper than his usual soft, gentle words would allow. A bit needier, too, and you’re aware he’s been drinking. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” you tell him honestly with a sigh following the reply. “You’ve been drinking. Where are you? Do you need a ride?” You instantly wonder if he’s only called because he’s drunk and stranded somewhere. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s gone out with friends and called when he wants to sleep off the alcohol at your place. The thought has you feeling warm, and an ache begins to grow between your thighs at just the sound of his voice.

Maybe work really has been too busy, you think. You can’t even remember the last time you saw him, let alone spent a night with him, or even just an hour or two to catch up.

You hear mumbling in the background a few seconds before the quiet chatter in the distance fades, assuming he stepped outside of whatever bar he went to with friends. “Mm, what are you wearing?” he asks with a tipsy giggle just to tease you, and you can’t help but to grin while you shake your head.

“My pajamas. I was in bed, but having a hard time sleeping.”

“Oh? The silky, red pajamas I really like?”

You sigh and then release a chuckle as you look down at your simple t-shirt and pajama shorts you wore to bed, wanting to be comfortable the moment you arrived home and changed into them. “Where are you?” You can just imagine the grin on his face while thinking about the revealing lingerie, and the fact that he already pictures you in the red camisole and matching panties you wear sometimes just for him tells you what’s really on his mind.

“I went out with the guys,” he tells you after releasing a huff. “Do you need me to come over and help you get to sleep?” You can hear the smirk in the words while trying to ignore the way a surge of desire shoots straight through your body as you press your thighs together.

“As if I haven’t fallen for that line before.” That last time he made such an offer, neither of you slept much. Though when the memories pop into your mind of spending the night together, you know it won’t take much convincing to agree.

“I miss you,” he says after you take too long to give in, voice a bit lower, losing the confidence alcohol normally gives young men like him. Maybe he isn’t that tipsy. “It’s been a while… you know, since we’ve been together. I want to see you.”

Though he and you are far from a couple, and the two of you have never even come close to mentioning a relationship other than the one time he slipped up and mumbled the word “dating”, you can’t help but to feel your chest tighten from his words. You’re aware he gives you space because of your job and busy schedule, and you don’t put in any extra effort making plans because he knew getting involved with you was only something to do in your free time when you desired company. Take a few trips, splurge a little, and enjoy one another’s bodies was all either of you had in mind.

So you aren’t sure why you feel guilty listening to him tell you how he wants to see you. Not only that, but how much he misses you, and as your body begins to ache and the warmth of desire bubbles in the pit of your stomach, you realize he’s not the only one.

“Okay. You can come over,” you finally give in. “But you and your friends better not be driving if you’ve been drinking.” You adopt a stern, motherly tone, which makes him chuckle.

“We’ve only had a few drinks, but I’m calling a cab,” he promises you while you smile listening to him laugh. “I’ll be there soon.”

How much time you have to prepare yourself before “soon” arrives depends on which bar he visited with his friends, but you assume it’s probably not much considering your condo is in the heart of the city. Quickly, you push the covers from your body before jumping out of bed, taking one look at your comfortable pajamas before deciding to ditch them. You never told him what you were wearing exactly, and it wouldn’t hurt to offer a more enticing view the moment he shows up.

It has been a while, you think while you flick on the bedroom light, feeling the butterflies in your stomach as you exchange simple PJs for a champagne-colored nightgown with small straps over your shoulders and lace covering your breasts. You can’t help but to grin as you slip it over your otherwise nude body, feeling a bit more confident and hoping to surprise him. Even if it is a bit unlike you. Your previous partners were never worth the effort, you remember, not finding any of them putting forth the extra work to woo you, and after a while you grew bored of them.

With him, however, you often find being with him exciting. A thrilling experience to leave you wanting more, hoping for the next rush of pleasure and the solace of his strong arms you find him offering without hesitation. It’s probably why you have kept him around for so long, though sometimes you wonder if he will grow bored of your arrangement before you do.

The thought has the butterflies disappearing as your stomach twists with worry, but only for a moment before there’s a light knock at your door. Grinning, you leave the bedroom to answer the door in nothing but the revealing lace and silk, but he has already punched in your password for the keypad lock by the time you reach the spacious, open living room to allow him entrance.

“I was beginning to worry,” you tease, looking over his large, black hoodie and jeans he’s wearing as he slips off his sneakers, then to his grinning lips and glossy eyes peering down at you in your nightgown. “You took a while. I thought you might have found a cute girl at the bar to go home with instead.”

He frowns at that, and you’re not sure why you even said the words yourself. After all, he and you are far from exclusive. You’ve never mentioned to him whether you care if he sees anyone else under the terms of your arrangement, and in fact, when you thought about it before you never did mind the possibility as long as he was available to join you on trips, or take care of you on those bad days when you needed his company. Maybe it’s too late at night, and you’re exhausted, needing some reassurance even though it’s so unlike you. He shakes his head after shutting the door behind him, hearing the click of an automatic lock before you’re being wrapped up in his strong arms.

“Don’t say that,” he tells you, all before his lips press against your own. A quiet whimper vibrates his skin to cause him to groan as you taste a small hint of the liquor still lingering on his tongue. He pulls away to allow you a breath, his hands falling to your sides to caress your hips with gentle fingers. A second later, he’s licking his lips and grinning once again. “Why would I want to be anywhere but with you? Especially when you…”

His words fade as he takes in your lingerie. You watch his eyes fall to your breasts covered in soft lace, and he licks his lips again. Surely he notices the way your nipples harden beneath the revealing fabric with need as an overwhelming heat washed over you the moment he stepped into your home. His hands continue to caress your sides, as if he’s itching to touch all over your body. Blinking a few times, he finally collects enough composure before his thoughts run wild, meeting your eyes once again.

“Yes?” you finally ask, biting your lip to keep from grinning. It’s no wonder his effect on you is so sudden, causing the ache to deepen and the desire to rise in a surge of heat flooding your cheeks. The way he looks at you, drinking in the sight he finds irresistible brings your confidence back, making you feel silly for making such a comment, even if it was only to tease him. It’s clear from his eyes and body language, the way he never takes his gaze off of you to how he can’t keep his hands to himself, he means every word he says.

“Did you put this on just for me?” He raises a brow as his lips twitch in a cocky smirk, something that makes an appearance when he’s had a few drinks.

“Of course not, I went to bed like this,” you tell him, grinning. “All alone.” He arches his brows while taking another look at you, as if he can see right through your lie.

“Well maybe we should fix that.” His tone deepens just as his hands wrap around your body to reach your ass, offering a playful squeeze to earn a giggle from you. His mouth dips to yours a moment later, lingering against your lips and groaning into the kiss as the heat floods your body. His hands on your ass pull you against him, earning your arms wrapping around his neck. When he pulls away from your lips, he creates a trail down your jaw, reaching your neck to press kisses just below your ear, and his voice drops even lower as he begins to whisper. “You wouldn’t mention me with other girls if you only knew about all the things I was thinking of doing to you on my way over here.”

With that, his hands squeeze your flesh tighter, slipping the hem of your nightgown up until his palms warm your sensitive skin. Gulping, your eyes shut, focusing on his lips pressed to your neck and his hands on your body, feeling your legs shake with urgency.

“Oh? Like what?” you ask, wishing your voice was more steady as the syllables tremble with each word. Damn you for waiting too long to see him, you think as your hardened nipples brush over the soft lace with your chest pressed to his own. You’re already so worked up from his words and the way he whispers with need in your ear, and his lips pampering your neck and his hands teasing your ass do nothing to help.

“Hm,” he hums when he pulls away, and the cocky smirk returns, “make you feel good. Worship you and make you come, but I guess I can show you better than I can tell you.”

Before you can reply, he has you backing up to your bedroom. His lips find yours once again in between guiding your body, messy, desperate kisses shared between the two of you and his hands roaming every inch he can reach. He raises one palm to cup your breasts, the other resting on the small of your back as the two of you take careful, but urgent steps to reach your bed. Your tongue skims across his bottom lip to earn a groan. He brushes a thumb over your tight, erect nipple to have you pulling away in a gasp. And a second later, your body hits the edge of the mattress, feeling the coolness of the sheets against your warm skin as you ache with need.

“God, you’re incredible,” he groans once he has tugged his sweatshirt over his head to toss to the floor. “I swear I could kiss you all night.” Your eyes fall to his broad chest after he helps your body to rest against the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows while he lingers over you. Your gaze travels from the curves of his muscles that remain tight and tense, to his belly button and then the view of the band of his black briefs peeking out behind his jeans. Now the sight before you has you licking your lips once you notice the bulge in his pants, completely at the younger boy’s mercy and whatever thoughts that were swirling in his mind on the way over to your place.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you tell him with a shy smile a second before he kisses your lips once again, feeling a bit more vulnerable than you’re used to as he stares down at your awaiting body.

“Mm, but not your lips,” he says when he pulls away. His kisses lower to your neck for the second time, and your head tilts back to allow him access. He takes his time, pressing his soft lips to your heated flesh, savoring the way you feel against him as well as the little gasps and huffs of breath when he touches your most tender spots. “I love kissing your neck.”

“Yeah?” Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and your eyes flutter closed. God, how he can be so attentive and gentle, taking his time as if he would spend forever like this with you. You admit it makes you feel special in a way no one has made you feel before. As if you’re something so precious he needs to cherish. The thought earns a racing heart as his lips find their way to your collarbone.

“Mhm, and your chest… these fucking amazing tits…” Just as he begins to kiss down the valley between your breasts, his fingers hook into the flimsy straps of your nightgown, slowly pulling the revealing lace down until each aching, hardened nipple is exposed for him. He takes a moment to admire the sight, as if his breath is caught in his throat just like the first time he laid eyes on you. In your mind you remind yourself it’s the alcohol, even if your heart begs to disagree because he told you he didn’t have much to drink, but he doesn’t give you time to ponder over the reasoning before his head dips down once again.

A gasp falls from your lips the moment he presses a lingering kiss to one breast, right over the tight bud to earn an arched back. The heat swelling between your thighs burns with desperation as he kisses you again, all before his tongue caresses your flesh in a slow and steady circle. He traces your nipple, leaving remnants of his own saliva over your flesh to earn a chill down your spine when the cool air hits your skin, and then he moves to the other. Repeating the motion of teasing your breast with a few gentle kisses before his tongue tastes your body, you can’t help but to moan his name while your fingers disappear in his hair.

He groans as soon as you pull on the strands, lingering for a moment while kissing between each deserving breast, giving both the attention they need. As he moves lower, he pulls your nightgown with him, beginning to press his lips down your stomach while headed for your belly button.

“I love kissing here, too,” he tells you, feeling him grin between the words as his mouth tends to your body. Another whimper slips from your lips, feeling the rush of desire mixing with the heat rising and the ache deepening between your thighs. God, you know you’ll be dripping if he continues to take his time in such ways. Though he never fails to give you exactly what you need, and from your conversation earlier of you having a hard time sleeping, you assume he considers this to be the remedy. “Do you like it, too?”

He asks the question just before leaving open-mouthed kisses around your lower stomach, earning another gasp when you feel his tongue ease against your skin.

You exhale his name, eyes closing as you try to regain control of your breaths, “you know I do.”

“Good,” he simply says, finding your reassurance boosting his confidence. For a moment, you don’t feel his mouth on you. With hesitation, your eyes finally manage to flutter open in time to see him pushing the hem of your nightgown higher so it rests loosely over your hips. The cool air ghosts over your hot flesh, sending another chill down your spine as he takes in the sight of your thighs spread open before him. He licks his lips before placing a gentle palm on your thigh, and you assume his tongue will finally relieve the ache at your core, but he leans closer to only brush his lips against the inside of your knee.

You’re taken by surprise, but you don’t mind. His kisses make up for the moments he spent without you. He makes it clear, taking his time to kiss you just like he said he wanted and your heart swells at the thought of this being what he wanted to do to you after so long.

“Your skin is so soft,” he tells you between kisses down your leg, reaching your ankle as he holds you gently behind your knee. Then he kisses the top of your foot, causing you to giggle as he grins, brushing his thumb over your toes. Even though it tickles a bit and earns more giggles, you allow him to do as he pleases. “I like the color you chose,” he comments on the deep purple of your nail polish that matches the color on your fingernails, causing your heart to swell over the fact that he notices all the little details. He pays so much attention.

He rests your leg gently against the bed before moving to the other. Like before, he creates a trail of soft, sweet kisses from your foot to your knee, deciding not to stop there as he tends to your inner thigh. Open-mouth kisses are left against your skin as he nears your awaiting center, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable as he takes his time worshiping your body, just like he said he would.

You whimper as you feel his breath against your slit.

“Hm?” he hums in question once his mouth presses against your mound. The sensation earns a shiver through your body before warmth floods your skin, overwhelmed with the anticipation, so eager for the pleasure he offers. “Do you like it when I kiss here?” he asks right before lowering his lips down your slit, softly kissing your flesh, over your clit, reaching your entrance for his tongue to dart out and lick a slow, steady line upward.

You gasp, back arching, legs shaking as they threaten to close around him, until he grips your thighs tight with two sturdy palms. The feel of his hot, wet tongue against your flesh ignites a fire in your core, making you aware that he is the only release to put out the desire building within you. “Please…”

“Answer me, baby,” he demands, but there’s still the gentle playfulness in his voice as he speaks that always manages to calm all of your nerves, putting you at ease and making the world stop around the two of you. “Do you like it? Because I love kissing you here the most.”

“Yes… I love it,” you exhale in a heavy breath, the room spinning from the way his lips tease your slit as he tends to your body.

“I love kissing your pussy like this, especially when you get so wet for me.” With that, his tongue eases over your clit in a quick motion before his lips enclose around the bud, adding action to the words you already knew to be true. A quiet whimper escapes your lips, fingers shaking and gripping the sheets beneath you, hips rolling as you become greedy for release. “But I love it more when you watch me taste you like this.”

He repeats the motion with a flick of his tongue, kissing your most delicate areas to drive you wild. With intentions to have you on edge, he brushes over your clit with just the tip of his tongue, sending little bolts of electricity to the pit of your stomach that blossom into warmth throughout your body. Another whimper of his name leaves your lips, this time urgent, breathless.

“Will you watch me?” he asks, catching you off guard for a moment. Your eyes flutter open, looking down at the sight of him kneeling on the floor before you, face between your thighs as he blows air over your hot and needy slit. “Will you watch me while I make you come?”

How could you ever deny a request like that? Especially when he stares up at you, waiting for your reply with those beautiful eager eyes of his. You swear you could get lost in them, finding nothing but comfort and security within them. His lips glisten with a sheen of your arousal from teasing your slit, grinning as you once again prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of the pleasure he’s so eager to give.

“That’s good, baby.” He caresses your thigh with one hand while the other slips between your legs. A second later you feel the pads of his fingers slip down your slit, reaching your entrance to tease in circles. The messy sound of your juices fill the space between the two of you, listening to how aroused you’ve become as he stares down at the sight with a bitten lip. “Mm, I think you’re even wetter than before. Does it excite you that much to watch? Do you like seeing my face buried between your thighs?”

Before you can answer, he leans closer to press his nose against your mound, inhaling the aroma of your arousal just as he eases a finger inside of you. His eyes meet yours while his lips brush your skin and he buries the digit deep within your walls before adding another.

“Yes,” you finally manage to answer him in a breathless whisper, “of course I do. Please, don’t stop.”

He flashes another cocky grin with devious glint in his eyes seconds before pressing the flat of his tongue against your flesh, licking another stripe up your slit to leave you quivering. Your hips move with his motions, begging for more, needing release from the amount he’s teased you. He repeats the motion, licking ever so slowly up your slit, from where his fingers are buried deep in your entrance until he reaches your clit, drawing out slow circles against the swollen, aching bud. A gasp spills from within you as your head falls back. Burying his fingers deeper within you, he curls the digits to have you crying out his name just as he begins massaging your clit with his tongue, taking his time, tasting you, working up your body even more than before.

“God,” you begin to whimper, wanting to squeeze your eyes shut tight to give into the pleasure, but with his gaze focused on you, you don’t have the nerve. You never look away with his face buried between your thighs, tongue circling your clit, fingers deep inside of you as you tighten yourself around him. He groans against your flesh, letting you know he is savoring the taste of your flesh and the way you drip onto his fingers, creating a mess as he eats you out. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

You’re breathless and hot and your body buzzes with a million nerves on fire thanks to him. The tension tightens between your thighs as he hums against your flesh once again, and finally you break your concentration as your head rolls back. A sudden gasp fills the room the moment his lips press to your slit and he sucks ever so gently on your clit, messy, wet noises mixing with the sound of you moaning his name in pure bliss.

You call his name in a strained whimper leaving your tongue, so desperate for release while you push your body closer, holding yourself up with one hand behind you. The other reaches to entangle the strands of his hair between your fingers, tugging as your hips roll against his mouth and the way he pumps his fingers into you. “God… I’m getting close…”

You try to warn him as the pleasure burning hot builds with every second he continues massaging your clit and fingering your dripping cunt. He groans again, this time out of satisfaction from feeling you grind yourself against him, becoming greedy, needing the kind of release only he can offer.

“Come for me, baby,” he demands of you the second he pulls his mouth away, replacing his tongue with his thumb pressing to your folds, caressing your clit up and down, back and forth. “Come on my fingers, baby. God, you’re so wet and squeezing around me so tight, I know you’re close.”

The raspy, strained tone speaking the words urges you closer to the edge. He encourages you to let go as your body feels more alive than ever before, giving in to the pleasure as the first wave of warm, comforting bliss washes over you. A gasp falls from your lips as a warning, riding out the ecstasy with your hips rolling against his hand and your thighs shutting around him tight. The surge of pure, red hot pleasure reaches from your head to your toes after swelling between your legs, and before you know it, you’re trembling and pushing his hand away from your most sensitive area, overwhelmed with your body falling to the bed.

“Did I ever say how incredible you are?” Even with your eyes closed, you can tell from the words he’s smirking. Then you feel his weight shift against the bed and his lips meet your temple a moment later. He lingers for a few seconds before he leaves you, and your eyes flutter open to see him pulling open the top drawer to your nightstand near the bed in search of the newest pack of condoms he brought the last time he visited.

By the time he retrieves one foil packet from inside and tosses the box back in its place, you have your breaths under control even if you’re still throbbing between your thighs from the pleasure. However, you never pull your eyes away as he undresses, starting with tugging the button to his jeans and pushing them down to his ankles, followed by his briefs. You take in the sight of his erect cock with a sharp breath, realizing how patient he has been though he has remained painfully hard from pleasuring you.

He returns to the bed fully undressed, wrapper in hand that he tears with one swipe before rolling it down his length with urgency. “Come here, baby,” he finally says after tossing the ripped wrapper to the side, settling on the bed and reaching for you to climb onto his lap.

As you follow his lead, you slip your nightgown from around your waist and down your legs before the silky, thin fabric falls off the bed to land on the floor. Then you straddle his lap, just like he told you to, wrapping hands around his neck while he reaches to grip your waist. His touch is gentle, yet he guides you before aligning the head of his hardened member up to your entrance.

“Come down, baby,” he tells you with a soft tone, yet there’s desperation hidden in the words. “Let me make you feel good again.”

You don’t miss the way his words in the moment hit you harder than normal. You blame the distance between the two of you after weeks of ignoring desires to be with him thanks to work. Your body remains on fire, needing him, his care, and his touch, and as you sink yourself down onto him, it all comes crashing down at once. He holds you close as you shiver, taking him in your body while he presses lips to your chest, your breasts, anywhere he can reach to show you the affection you didn’t know you were craving until now.

The moment his cock disappears completely inside of you, your thighs continue to shake as your nails leave marks against his neck, but he only groans at the feeling he’s missed so much. He kisses your lips as you lean closer to him, feeling his arms wrap around your body while you linger in the taste of his skin mixed with your own pleasure on his tongue.

“I have a confession to make,” he suddenly whispers in a breathless tone the moment he pulls away from your mouth. Your eyes grow wide before your brow furrows, looking down at him as if he picked the worst possible time to spring something on you.

“Now?” Of course, it seems like the worst time when you’re sitting on his lap, entangled in one another with your bodies ready for nothing but pure bliss. He chuckles and leans closer, holding you tighter while pressing a quick peck against your jaw. Your hips can’t help but to move when he kisses you like that, nearly forgetting the words he spoke until he releases a heavy sigh.

“I know I’m younger and you... you might be embarrassed by being with me, but��”

“Embarrassed?” Once again, your brow is wrinkled and you stare at him as if he’s talking nonsense. Your hips stop moving, though your head spins with not only the worries of where he’s going with the sudden conversation but the feeling of him buried deep within you. It’s not until he smirks and gives your ass a little love tap with the gentle tips of his fingers do you begin rolling your hips against him again, not being able to help how good he feels inside of you. You pause, sighing his name, closing your eyes in a mixture of confusion filling your head and pleasure filling your body. “—that’s not it at all. I just… work a lot. I have to focus on the company, you know. I think you deserve to be with someone better. Someone that can give more than I can.”

“Better than you?” From his tone as he asks, it’s clear he thinks of the idea as absurd. You have to admit it makes you feel special, needed, desired and as he begins to move his hips beneath you to match your motions, you release a quiet whimper while he continues to make your heart swell with his words. “There’s no one else I want but you.”

You gulp, becoming lost to the bliss as your bodies move as one. As he holds you. As his arms remain around your body and as you find so much comfort within them, just like always.

“I know we only keep eachother company when we need it, but—” His voice lowers until he stops speaking, and the tightness in your chest returns. No, you shouldn’t be feeling guilty. Not like this. Not when you’re both getting what you need from one another, just like you agreed on from the very beginning. “I love being with you like this. I love being with you in any way, whatever you need that to be. I care for you, and I want to care for only you.”

And the tightness in your chest coils even tighter until it snaps, making your heart pound against your ribcage and you aren’t sure whether you want to cry or kiss him because of his words, or maybe you want to do both. You continue rocking yourself against him, filled with pleasure in the midst of your emotional confusion and it all becomes overwhelming until you aren’t sure what to say in response.

You whisper his name while leaning forward, pressing your forehead against his as he pumps his hips beneath you, keeping hands on your body and holding you in place. “That feels good. Don’t stop.”

“Mm, yeah?” he questions, the confidence returning in his voice while he pleasures you, noticing the desperation in your words. “Do you wanna come again?”

You can only nod, closing your eyes before your emotions get the better of you, leaning in to kiss his lips, and then you whisper a simple “yes” to tell him you want more.

It’s the only reassurance he needs, reaching down between your bodies to press his thumb to your clit to earn a gasp from your lips. “You know, you shouldn’t ignore me for so long,” he teases, but something in his hesitant, quiet tone tells you there’s a hint of seriousness in the words. “I always want to make you feel good like this. I want to give you whatever you need.”

It’s not the first time he’s said such things, but you always assumed he told you what you wanted to hear in the heat of the moment. Now, as he holds you close and kisses you tenderly to ease all your worries while giving you pleasure, you wonder if it’s something more than just useless words. You always assumed he only enjoyed what you could offer him — paying for his clothes or rent, taking trips together, even handling his tuition for his last year in college before he graduated — while you convinced yourself you enjoyed his company and wanted to return the favor for spending time with you. Though those thoughts turned into not spoiling him to repay him, but wanting to take care of him the way he takes care of you in his own way, and wanting to see him just as happy as he makes you.

Plus, who else would you spend your money on? When you work so hard but take no time to build personal relationships, there are times when you wonder if it’s even worth anything. Though those thoughts seemed to disappear when you met him, and the relief of not having to deal with answering to anyone in a relationship or deal with insecure men worrying about making less money than you made you all the more comfortable with the situation. Having fun with him was good to take the edge off when work was stressful, but now the guilt has your chest aching from not only hearing him tell you how much he enjoys being with you, but for you finally coming to realize how much you care about him, needing him when you wish to find comfort in his arms and confide in him when things get difficult.

The reality comes barrelling down on you as your pace quickens, grinding your body against him as the moans spill from your lips, a few curses beneath your breath mixing with the way he groans in bliss. You try to push the thoughts aside and focus on the pleasure, focus on his lips against your skin while listening to the groans building in his throat. You squeeze your eyes shut, tight and tighter as the seconds pass and the heat of absolute bliss fills between your thighs. With his thumb still circling your clit, applying more pressure just to hear the noises you make, you know you won’t last much longer. Not with him buried so deep inside you, making your head fuzzy as the emotions run wild, your confusions disappear, and your heart and body both come to terms with how much you need him.

You cry out, face twisting in pure ecstasy as the heat bubbles in the pit of your stomach before rushing to fill every inch of your body. You collapse forward, leaning all of your weight onto him as he returns both arms around your body, hips moving between your thighs to pump himself into you as you ride out your orgasm against him.

He continues slowly moving beneath you until you catch your breath once again. Once the room stops spinning and you stop asking yourself how you got so lucky to find someone like him, you push yourself away with a small grin, looking until his eyes to have him stop moving entirely.

“Lean back,” you tell him in a whisper, biting your bottom lip when you see him smirk and follow your instructions. “I want to make you feel good now.” You steady yourself with hands against his tense stomach, feeling all the curves of his muscles as you begin rocking yourself against his cock still painfully hard inside of you.

He hisses as you tighten your walls around him, slipping up until he’s almost out of you, then sinking back down ever so slowly. Your confidence is earned with every roll of your hips, watching his head tilt back as his jaw tightens, a deep, desperate groan building in his chest.

“God, baby,” he exhales, reaching to grip your hips so you’ll move faster and give him some sort of release. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“You think you don’t do the same to me?” you tease him, giggling while repeating the motion of sliding off his cock and back down again just to see his body tense.

“I know I do,” he admits with a smirk that disappears the moment you swivel your hips in a circle just to earn a gasp from his lips. “I do, but I know you fuckin’ like it.”

“I do,” you chuckle, biting your lip and never taking your eyes off of him as you ride him. Slowly at first, drawing out the same kind of teasing that he offered you, until you pick up pace to relieve him of the tension filling his body. Your hips move faster, loving the way he holds on tight to your waist. The breathless, desperate noises he begins to make fill you with a certain satisfaction you won’t find anywhere else, gaining even more pleasure from giving as much to him in return.

“God,” he cries out, cursing a bit beneath his breath before his body tenses all over again. A few more seconds of rolling your body against him has him coming undone, finally finding release he pumps a few times between your thighs, milking his own cock and spilling every drop until sweat trickles down the side of his face and he’s hissing when he’s grown too sensitive inside of you.

You slip off of him with ease, staring at his strong, yet breathless figure beneath you for a moment, drinking in the sight of him completely spent and looking ethereal against your sheets. His body shines with a sheen of sweat and you know he’s exhausted his energy, mostly due to pleasuring you, but you both know it was well worth it.

His chest rises and falls with his eyes closed as you reach to clean him up, gently pulling off the condom before rushing with it and the ripped wrapper to the adjoined bathroom to dispose of. When you return, his eyes are open as he takes in your naked body climbing onto the bed to lay against his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you just so he can hold you next to him.

His fingers brush over your exposed back, putting your body at ease even though your mind still wanders over his previous words.

“What would make you think I was ever embarrassed being with you?” you ask out of nowhere, and from his sudden sleepy mumbling, you’re aware you’ve taken him by surprise.

He sighs before he begins explaining himself, voice quiet and tone uncertain. “Well, you try to hide me when I come to your work.” He chuckles, and your cheeks burn because you know he’s right. “You never let me send you flowers, or do nice things like that. You tell me it’s because you don’t like them, but I think it’s really because you don’t want anyone to know they’re from me. And you have these charity functions, and different events, but you never want me as your date.”

“I—” You have no excuse as you listen to his explanation. You know he’s right, though you wish you could say he wasn’t. If you’re being honest, you would love to go to events or be proud you had someone so caring stopping by your work, bringing you lunch, or even on special occasions like birthdays or even Valentines day, receiving flowers from him you could brag about, but it always seemed like so much more trouble explaining your relationship a million times instead of just keeping your private life private. “I’m not embarrassed. I could never be because, well, you’re incredible, too. And I… I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he assures you as you lift your head from his chest to look up at him. When he notices, he grins and motions for you to come closer, wanting your affection in the form of your lips against his own. For a moment, you kiss him to rid him of the worries this time. Even if he plays it off like it’s not a big deal, you’re certain it must bother him if he mentioned it in the first place. “Like I said, I know what we have is special… in more ways than one.”

“It is?” you question, just to hear him tell you.

“Of course. With our arrangement, and how I feel about you.”

You bite your lip, hesitating to ask, but you gain the courage to do so anyway. “And how do you feel?” He looks away for a moment, his hand still tracing patterns on your back. The longer he takes to answer, the more curious you grow. “I don’t mean just taking care of me or being there when I call, but really, how do you feel? I need to know, because—”

“I do really care,” he blurts out, interrupting you and his wide eyes tell you it took a lot of courage for him to admit the words. “Like, really care. Not just for our arrangement or because you do nice things for me but… well, when you said that about being with someone else, about me finding someone else, it made me wonder if you would do the same. If you would be with other men and not be with me.”

Oh, he’s jealous, you realize. Thankfully he isn’t a jerk about it, and the fact that he’s having a discussion with you about how he feels instead of treating you differently because of it has your heart swelling. He really does care. He really does want to be with you.

“I haven’t been, if that’s what you mean,” you tell him honestly. It’s not like work has given you any free time, and if you had it, you’re confident he would be the first man you would call if you needed company. “Not since I met you. I haven’t been with anyone else.” You never wanted anyone else, you tell yourself, but you don’t add the comment.

He sighs, as if a weight has been lifted, but he remains quiet.

“And… I don’t want to be, if you’re curious about that as well,” you tell him, meeting his eyes before noticing him trying to stop himself from grinning with pride.

“You don’t?” he asks, and you shake your head. “I don’t want anyone else, either. I just want… I want to be with you.”

He’s said it before, but now the words seem to mean so much more. He isn’t just talking in the moment, or taking trips, or being affectionate and physical. He wants to be more than just an arrangement, more than just a phone call away and a date and time to be together and then you’re back to your own lives. No, he wants you. Just you. Only you.

There are a million butterflies in your stomach as you consider the thought, then you curse at yourself for acting as if you’re a teenager again. You can’t really be blamed when you haven’t felt something so real in so long. After all the years of working on your business, being alone, being lonely, and now he is before you with nothing but adoration in his eyes and words that you didn’t know could mean so much. How could you deny him? You swear you don’t think you could ever tell him no, not even now.

“It might be selfish of me,” he begins, but you quickly interrupt with lips colliding against his own, pulling him closer with a hand around his neck, and he doesn’t hesitate to hold you against his body. His hands begin to wander like it’s the first time he’s touching you, and the feeling of being so desired has warmth blossoming in your chest.

“I want that, too,” you say with a gasp, pulling away from his lips. “I… want to be with you, too.” The urgency in your voice as you blurt out the words assures him you feel the same. The widest smile crosses his face, and he can’t help to pull you in for another kiss.

The first of many now that the two of you have said what’s on your minds, allowing your emotions to run free and give your hearts what you both desire. You need one another, to care for each other, offer company and someone to confide in, and be there for one another without it just being an arrangement. And in the moment, you have his arms to hold you as the two of you slip beneath to covers, feeling his fingertips trace circles against your bare back while you fall asleep against his chest, finally getting that good night’s rest you have been missing out on for weeks.

97 notes · View notes

babybatss-blog · 19 hours

Text

SUMMER HAZE

Sirius x f!reader (850 words)

authors notes: Warning, this is a little bit of a horny one! Things are getting warmer so I thought this would be fitting

cw: sexual suggestions, kissing.

summary: a summer black lake day with your favourite black bf <3

The new summer breeze brings Hogwarts Academy a rare yet opportune streak of bright blue skies, accompanied by the welcomed buzz of bumble bees and students flying above in the warm sunlight. With the holidays drawing near and end of year exams coming to a close, students are often finding themselves with nothing better to do than spend time by the black lake, soaking in the bright rays. You and your friends are no exception.

It’s a lousy Sunday afternoon when you present to Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas the possibility of going for a swim, which they jump at as an opportunity to distract from the blistering heat. The castle may be a solid freezing temple during the winter, but it seems that it is not well equipped for rare heat streaks such as this. You pack your towels and put on your bathers, luckily finding a spot on the pier empty for use.

Today appears to be another relaxing end of school term day, as you, Lily and Mary bring books and Marlene and Dorcas go for a swim, but these meditative plans are abruptly put on hold as soon as you hear the ruckus jeers from the marauders.

“Merlin, your boyfriends here.” Lily pouts, clearly unenthusiastic by the appearance of Sirius, James, and their two best mates. The boys take no notice of this, confidently strutting over to you in their overtly tight trunks and cocky smirks. Sirius and James seem much too pleased to see the staring crowd at their arrival, while Remus and Peter loiter behind as to not draw in anymore attention than has already been caught.

“Hello my darling” Sirius greets you, a signature smoulder on his pale face. Although you have been with him for a considerable amount of time already, his smooth words never fail to make you blush. He plops himself down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder and pinching your book from your hands despite your protests. “No need for that my dear. After all, your gorgeous, sexy, amazing boyfriend is here.” You roll your eyes, despite secretly agreeing with this notion. You would never let him know though; his ego is already big enough as it is.

“Hey Sirius” you smile, taking in his beautiful features. He isn’t necessarily buff in physique, but nevertheless his lean abs gleamed in the sunlight along with his rosy cheeks and long eyelashes. How you managed to garner his attention you never know, but sometimes he makes you feel so beautiful you almost see his point of view.

And today is no exception. You take your book back from him so you can enjoy the day how you please, but it appears Sirius has other plans as he runs his hand up and down your thigh. His hand inches further and further up your leg, causing you to find it difficult to focus on your page. You glance over at him, and he smirks. He knows exactly what he’s doing. In order to stop him, you hold his hand, which doesn’t necessarily work either. Instead, Sirius kisses your neck soft and slow. “Sirius…” you mumble, slightly embarrassed by the fact that some students are looking over at you. He hums but continues to leave soft kisses up to your jawline. Rolling your eyes you give up on reading and set the book down, knowing that it was never going to last anyways. “I won” he murmurs, before locking lips with yours into a passionate kiss. You get lost in the moment, adrift in your bound love display as your hands tangle in his silky hair and his roam your back. You almost forget where you are, before Sirius picks you up and jumps of the pier!

The cold water hits your body and surrounds you, only void in the front half of your body that is still enveloped around Sirius. Once your heads break the water you gasp for air, but Sirius merely laughs. “You prick!” You exclaim, Pushing away from him despite the smile on your face. You don’t even get the moment to recollect yourself before James, Lily and Peter Jump in over you leaving a massive splash in your direction. You laugh, shocked by the sudden shift in mood before being encased by Sirius from behind. He kisses your shoulder, paddling in the water together as you watch the others swim around. His warmth swarms you, like a blanket on a harsh windy day. You spin around, arms around his shoulders and eyes engaged with one another. “You’re such a dummy.” Although these words seem harsh, your voice is filled with adoration. “And you’re so embarrassing.” He replies, with the same tone.

As the sun shines above, the water shimmers around you and the air is filled with students laughter. The day is absolutely perfect, and spending it with Sirius seems like a dream come true.

#sirius black x reader #hp marauders #marauders #marauders x reader #sirius black #sirius black fluff #sirius orion black #the marauders #sirius x you #sirius x reader

81 notes · View notes

xxaraaq · 23 hours

Text

𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙛𝙛𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙨

Synopsis | Nanami finds out what he's been missing for the better part of his adult life

wc | 0.5k

cw | Infidelity, age gap, porn with a little plot

Nanami x black! Reader

A/N | Nothing really, hope you enjoy!

No one can blame him for the choices he’s made. He’s only a man, and a man has his limits.

He’s done everything he can in his life to make sure he can say he’s done what was expected of him. He has a stable nine to five, white collar job that he loathes but still performs great at, he takes care of his stay at home wife, and everything else that he’s supposed to do.

But it’s not enough.

There was something missing. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but day by day he dragged himself around until the day was done. He thought he was depressed at first, almost booking a therapy appointment, but he realized that he was lacking an essential part of life; something that every human being needs to stay sane.

Pleasure.

The realization hit him like a truck, his life was so boring because he had none – nothing to look forward to when he went home, nothing to look forward to when he woke up. Nothing. Even having sex with his wife was mediocre at best. His days were dull at best and straight up dreadful at worst, simply because he was the lacking excitement needed in one’s life.

Until he met you.

A pretty, young college student who recently started working in the cafe he frequented. All sunshine and rainbows, you never failed to greet him with a smile and a wave. He started to look forward to seeing your beaming grin every morning, even occasionally returning a smile. You were the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and he had to have you.

It was late when he came, to your surprise. He told you that he was working late in the office,

and decided to come by for a short break. You made him his usual black coffee, which you thought was weird, and the two of you talked – well, mostly you – about everything and nothing.

He was getting drunk off you, your voice lulling him into something he couldn’t describe. He didn’t know what came over him, but he leaned in and kissed you, catching the both of you off guard.

“I- I apologize, I don’t know what came over me.” He backs up, but you pull him in by the collar, crashing your lips onto his once more. His hands grab your waist, pulling you flush against him. He knows it’s wrong, that the right thing to do is stop and pretend it never happened, but he wont; he can't. He needs this, he deserves it, and he’s not going to let a little bit of remorse stop him from fucking you until you can’t take anymore.

It’s sinful really, the way he picks you up and fucks you against the wall. He would expect this from someone like Gojo, but the thought soon leaves his mind once he hears those beautiful moans he’s dreamt so often about.

You scratch at his back, begging him to slow down, but that only stirs to go faster. He fucks into you with a fervor he doesn’t think he’s felt before.

He pulls out and cums on your sweaty torso, panting as he slowly lets you back on the ground. The two of you clean up without a word and he heads home after placing a kiss on your temple. For the first time in years, he walks home with something to look forward to in the morning.

-Nene

#nene #x black reader #x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #nanami smut #nanami x black reader #nanami x black reader smut

138 notes · View notes

yawnderu · 53 minutes

Text

CW: mentions of kidnapping and stolen body autonomy.

Find a way in, kill the enemy, retrieve the hostages, leave. A routine of sorts that gave his life some sense of purpose to avoid going insane for the past two decades. Simon liked to believe he got over what happened in his past... truly, he did; and yet Manuel Roba’s horrors seem to haunt him no matter where how many years pass.

“C’mere.” Simon’s voice held no hostility, he made sure of it, yet your stiff position never changed. Legs angled to the right, hands folded on your lap, and eyes looking forward, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze even if it’s been hours since your rescue. Garrick, Price and Johnny have already tried to get you to talk multiple times, all of them with different approaches.

Garrick was friendly, trying his best to seem approachable, a bright smile on his lips that you didn’t seem to notice, too busy staring at a wall no matter how much he tried to hold a conversation.

Price seemed fatherly, never once laying a hand on you even if it was itching to comfort you, and so he settled with telling you you’re safe now, how no one will ever get you again now that they're here. His words didn’t seem to do much, either.

Johnny was… something else. His first attempt was a shitty pick up line, getting a reaction out of you for the first time— a nose scrunched up in disgust, but a reaction nonetheless.

And Simon… Simon’s approach was different. The man was used to barking out orders and obeying them himself, not to deal with an unresponsive hostage. His behemoth frame was nestled next to you, putting a tray on the table and observing your reactions. From the way you swallowed thickly the moment the meal was presented to you, to the sound of your stomach growling.

“Go on, then.” Your gaze follows his movements for the first time, the feeling of your stomach rumbling makes you more aware of your hunger, so many years being fed nothing but what was necessary to keep you alive by Manuel and his associates, so many years of being trained like a dog to obey to their very order.

Simon can see the hesitation in your body language, too tense to allow yourself to dig in the way you wanted, yet no longer as stiff as before. There was a sense of relief at the fact that they didn’t seem to want to hurt you —unlike Roba—, yet years of non-stop brutal training can’t be erased within hours.

Roba’s training was engraved into your brain, and while the sense of security the SAS blokes gave you is something you’re thankful for, nothing guarantees they’re not working for him. You’ve seen other military men come and go throughout the years, always Roba’s friends, and always sharing the same disgusting, sadistic desires.

“Eat up.” The rest of the men watch the way you move, curiosity and amusement mixing at how strange your movements seem, almost robotic. Your forearms rest on the table, elbows away from the cheap wood as you attempt to hold your own cutlery— attempt, because it looks fully foreign to you, trying out different angles to make it work, and yet it's the first time in years you've been allowed to try and feed yourself.

Simon is the first one to catch on, having lived under Roba’s rules for long enough to know he enjoys taking people’s autonomy, to reduce them to nothing but a pathetic mess that depends on him. His gloved fingers are gentle as he takes the spoon from your hand, scooping up some food before holding it up to your lips. His full attention is on you, relief starting to make its way into his body as sees your rather soft lips wrap around the spoon, eating whatever he was feeding you. Lucky for you, this time it wasn’t an MRE… or beans on toast.

His gloved thumb wipes the corners of your lips every time you’re done chewing, and he’s quick to pick up more food from the plate, nothing but patience and kindness shown in his actions, so unlike the brooding soldier he's known to be.

“... two goldfish are in a tank…?” Johnny’s loud groan gets your attention for a second, yet you quickly glance back at Simon, curious eyes looking up at him, almost as if asking him to go on.

“One turns to the other and says… ‘you know how to drive this thing?’” You can see the corners of his eyes crinkle before he even finishes his joke, clearly trying his best not to laugh at just how awful it was. A small smile hides in the corners of your lips, and Simon takes that as a victory, ignoring the questioning looks he’s getting from his team, for now.

#I've had this idea in my mind for MONTHS #Feeding you because he knows what it's like to be starved by Roba #being patient because Roba's torture is all you've known for years #silent promises of never letting anyone else take your body autonomy again #watching with nothing but pure pride the moment you're able to eat with no assistance #listening to your voice for the first time after you start getting better??#I'm going feral for this man #I'll rewrite this later but I needed to get it out of my head RAHHH #Simon being gentle to hostages save me...#cod mw2 #cod mwii #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon x reader #ghost x fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost x you

46 notes · View notes

justaz · 18 hours

Text

lance who always wanted to be a fighter pilot would NEVER be a farmer and we can throw hands if you disagree. anyways au time. allurance happens or doesn’t happen doesn’t matter but they aren’t together now. allura is queen of new altea with her advisor coran and close “friend” romelle. shiro is retired on earth w his husband adam. pidge also stays on earth and works with her parents on advancing earth’s technology. when they make breakthroughs, they relay it to matt when he pops by earth and then he takes it up into space to the rebellion who spreads it to planets that are behind on the galactic scale. hunk travels planet to planet with his moms and they connects all these different cultures and essentially does what he does in canon.

keith sort of takes over the blade and (since the war is over) turns it from a hidden rebellion group to a public aid and relief organization. they go planet to planet and help rebuild the worlds as much as they can. lance is on earth with his family but is Torn. he longed to be a fighter pilot since he was a kid, but being in space was almost unbearable bc of how bad he wanted to come home. when keith is visiting earth and talking about his travels to different planets, theres this flash of envy within lance and he comments about it. bada bing bada boom lance is joining keith into space once he leaves (he really has no idea how he gets into these things). he tells his family who are hesitant but ultimately supportive.

lance joins keith with the blade and finds himself greatly enjoying his time back up in space. he isn’t sure why until he mentions that he forgot something back of earth and keith asks if he wants to go back and grab it. lance has a choice now. he can go home if he wished and he can go up in space if he asked. when they were all kidnapped by the blue lion and jumped thru a wormhole, lance hadn’t been expecting staying up in space, away from his family, for years. the last bit of unease in lance settles and he thoroughly enjoys his time with the blade. by the time he’s set to go home, he barely even noticed time passing but he’s glad to be back.

he happens to return right as summer kicks off and he joins his family down in varadero. by the time august rolls around, he’s growing antsy again and staring up at the night sky with longing. his parents join him one night and encourage him to chase his dreams, to make younger him proud. lance says he doesn’t want to be away from his family like last time. they reassure him he won’t and point out how he could come home whenever he wished.

lance now spends end of august to beginning of june in space with keith helping planets, then june to august with his family on earth. its a good balance and makes everyone quite happy. eventually, keith starts to spend a bit more time on earth. he stops by toward the end of july and happens to catch lance’s birthday but that’s definitely purely a coincidence. keith spends a week in the states with shiro and adam then a couple of days with pidge and her family before going back down to cuba to spend the rest of august with lance before they fly back out.

rachel is the first to notice when lance and keith begin to share a bed when he stays. his mother catches them wrestling out in the water and chuckles to herself. veronica watches their hands linger against one another while doing the dishes after a family dinner that keith had attended.

its not long before keith’s time on earth extends until he’s practically following lance’s schedule. it’s not a surprise to anyone when marco walks in on lance and keith making out. he accepts responsibility as he did not knock before entering. his father had instructed them all to do so. thats on him.

#vld #wow its been a while #hi #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #bby they could never make me think ur a farmer #keith kogane #klance bc obviously #mcclain family #fanfiction #fanfic #fic ideas #headcanon #head canon #hc #canon divergent au #happy ending #yippee

25 notes · View notes

neverendingford · 5 months

Text

#tag talk #I lie a lot. to other people. to myself. I don't really lie here (usually) because I don't have an image to maintain but like...#I don't always even recognize the lies in telling myself. I retell stories to make myself seem clever and smart #retell interactions to make people take my side in the matter. and it even works on me sometimes.#I've always wanted to be the hardboiled loner. independent and happily isolated from others.#and to an extent I am. it helps when you despise most people you meet. when you find them inane and simple.#but I play it off like I'm somehow cool and aloof when in reality I'm alone because I hurt so much around others.#I have such a hard time identifying with others. I genuinely feel estranged and alien.#it makes me immune to caring about their pain. which can be useful I guess. but that's still not great.#I think part of my desire to be- and questioning of being aroace is in part a desire for independence.#because I have been wildly romantic before. I was head over heals for my first boyfriend (still my best friend).#I wrote them poetry. left love notes around their house. cooked him food and went on dates. and I did enjoy it. felt natural and good.#I just... that happens so rarely. this is the first time in almost ten years that it's happened again. I have the capacity. I have the want.#but I just... I don't click with others. I don't get along with them. I interact with to know them and then I start to loathe them.#I've gotten too many followers here and I go through their blogs and I get an idea of who they are and there's at least five of you I hate.#and I'm getting awfully close to reaching the annoyance threshold because I don't mind you existing but I need it to happen somewhere else.#I don't get paid to exist in the same space as you so we don't even have a functional relationship.#anyway. I dislike being lonely but I constantly feel a visceral disconnect between myself and others and it aches every single day.#adhd meds and hrt are doing huge things to help me be happy with myself. which means I need people less. I can exist alone.#but it doesn't remove the need. doesn't fill the void. it remedies one problem but emphasizes another.#and I'm not used to wanting someone. I want things From people but I don't want Them. except now I do. I want this person.#and I'm so out of my depth because my play is usually to keep distance. engage politely. get the company I need and then retreat.#and I want more than that here. I was about to say “I'm afraid of fucking it up” but I'm not. that's a cliche that my mind auto filled.#I know I won't fuck it up because I understand her and I know my own abilities. but I'm afraid of what this means for me.#will this work loose something in my own mind? Will I become more painfully aware of my own needs? Will loneliness hurt more?#I know I'm moving again in a few years. I'm staying with my brother for the foreseeable future so I know this won't be long term.#so if I can figure this out in the next year or so then maybe I'll be more prepared the next time we settle somewhere.#idk. my mind has been in overdrive processing this for the last three weeks. I feel noticeably more tired because of it.#I'm just so preoccupied with trying to figure out this new part of me that's only shown up once before.

1 note · View note

perlelune · 6 months

Text

Hunger | Coriolanus Snow

From the moment your husband introduces to President Snow, you're untethered, as if the very floor was ripped from underneath you.

Warnings: NON-CON, District 12! Reader, Covey! Reader, Housewife Kink, Manipulation, Somnophilia, Breeding Kink, Chasing

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Nervousness wrenches your insides as you peer at the proceedings from afar. Another gala to raise funds in order to quell a budding rebellion in the Districts. The second one this year.

They always leave you feeling sour. It’s not like the Districts have no reason to start an uprising. The next reaping is fastly approaching and you’d rage too if your family was to go through that again.

You take a tiny sip from your glass of posca, mindful not to overindulge. The diluted, aromatic wine is far stronger than one would imagine. But a slight dash of intoxication is the only way you can see yourself getting through the night. Crowds always made you anxious, but a gathering of Capitol citizens stirs a particular discomfort in you.

You’re not one of them and you often wonder if they can tell, sense a whiff of District 12 on you. The foul stench of unbelonging. Perhaps in the manner you speak or your stance. You’ve never managed to perfectly mimic the way Capitol ladies carry themselves, born from a lifetime of practicing poise and etiquette. After all, you are an outsider, and always will be.

Regardless of how many galas you attend, fashionable dresses you order to match the quickly changing trends of the Capitol, effort you exert to erase your thick Covey accent…it seems someone can always tell there’s more to you.

It’s in that mocking glint in their eyes, that sneering lilt in their voice.

To them, you’ll never be more than District rabble.

Which is exactly why you despise these events. But your husband insisted. He’s working hard to impress his boss, the most important man in all of Panem, and you can’t let him down.

You must be the picture of charm. Laugh at every joke, nod your head when a serious topic is being broached, display interest when personal stories are being shared.

You place a hand on your roaring stomach, a frown creasing your brow. You haven’t swallowed a bite the entire day, too anxious about how tonight would go.

Your gaze darts about the room. The tantalizing spread of appetizers in the middle of the room seems to be calling your name. Your mouth waters.

Without a thought, your feet glide across the marble tiles. A little self-conscious, hesitation tingles at your fingertips as they drum by one of the silver platters. Another pang of hunger pierces your insides at the sight of the food. You cave in, picking up a tiny sandwich from a plate. Your eyes close, angels singing in your mouth as delicious aromas trickle on your tongue.

“Sweetie, there’s someone you must meet,” your husband chimes at your back.

Still chewing on a mouthful of meat and bread, you whirl. Your eyes bulge. Startled, you nearly suffocate on your food.

You quickly wipe your mouth as heat rushes to your cheeks.

You’ve seen his face before. The murky screens do not do justice to his dashing looks.

“President Snow. It’s a pleasure. Apologies, I was…”

A smile ghosts over his lips as he drinks you in, his cerulean gaze dragging over your frame. “No apologies,” he answers silkily. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the food. At least someone is.”

He picks up your hand and presses an ephemeral peck on the back of it. You turn to Henry. The shock adorning your husband’s face mirrors yours.

President Snow’s lips curl skywards.

He lets go of your hand and adds, “It’s nice putting a face to your name. Henry is always raving about you.”

You shake your head, eyes bashfully finding the floor. “Oh, I’m sure he isn’t,” you mumble.

The blonde hums as if to disagree. He bends close to your ear.

“He’s always lauding what a wonderful wife you are, dutiful, sweet…”

…Makes me almost jealous.

Your head whips up.

You blink at the whispered words, barely above a breath. Maybe you heard wrong. It’s hard to tell, the way Snow gauges you, that subtle smile still decorating his handsome face.

He asks you trivial questions about how you’re settling in and how you’re enjoying your life in the Capitol. You answer every time, ignoring the chill dancing at the base of your spine.

His scrutiny swells your unease.

So as soon as the conversation veers away from you and towards the topics of lawmaking and taxes, you snatch the opportunity to excuse yourself.

You give an apologetic smile to your husband.

“Henry, maybe I should go. I’m not feeling too hot.”

He scowls at you. “You want us to leave already?” Disappointment bleeds in his tone. A thick layer of shame settles in the pit of your stomach. You’re being a bad wife.

“You can stay, even if I go,” you try to offer.

“There’s still so many people we haven’t talked to…” Henry argues.

You deflate. You suppose it would be uncouth to leave too early.

To your surprise, President Snow’s smooth lilt interjects, “If your wife is unwell, you both should go.”

You gape at him. A strange glint bounces in his cerulean orbs and unease flutters through you once more.

Henry sighs, grabbing your hand.

“Alright. I’ll go fetch the car.”

He gives the blond a formal salute before dragging you away.

As the two of you leave, the heat of Snow’s attention prickles along your spine.

“Did he say something to you?”

Gasping, you turn to your husband. He pointedly looks at you and you shift awkwardly in the passenger seat.

“What?” you say, taken aback by his sudden question.

He studies you for a while before his gaze drifts back to the road.

“Snow. He said something to you, didn’t he?”

Your chest clenches. Faking nonchalance, you shrug and reply lightly, “Just a joke but I didn’t understand it.”

The days soar by, humdrum and uneventful. You file away the strange moment at the gala and return to your everyday life. Henry occupies most of your time but when you’re not catering to him, you tend to the house and read. And during stolen moments…you play and sing. Henry doesn’t know, of course. It’s a life you left behind, or are supposed to at least.

You’re the wife of a Capitol official, not some District balladeer peddling song for coin.

But you can’t help it.

Singing reminds you of home. Of endless green meadows and lazy afternoons by the river. Your life from before may have been uncertain but you find yourself missing it at times. Missing the freedom to do and act as you pleased.

An orphan like so many others, the Covey were the only family you ever knew. Then you met Henry. Henry who spoke so sweetly to you and gazed at you with warm brown eyes. And he became your family. He didn’t care that you were from a District or that your manners were lacking. He embraced you.

And now you wish to support him in all that he does. Even if it means tossing away parts of yourself.

The front door cracks open, halting the path of the needle between your fingers. A smile blooms on your lips as you place Henry’s shirt on a nearby table. You can resume fixing the buttons on it later. You rise from the armchair and make your way to him. You help him out of his coat, noting the excitement radiating off his frame.

He’s not usually this ecstatic after a day of work. You tilt your head in puzzlement.

He hugs you before announcing, “We have a guest tomorrow, a very important guest.”

“Oh,” you reply, tamping down your concern. The apartment isn’t exactly ready for guests, much less important ones. The fridge needs to be stocked and the furniture requires thorough dusting.

“Yes, I was mentioning what a wonderful cook you are and he said he hasn’t had a home cooked meal in a while.”

“Who?” you ask, your curiosity peaking.

“President Snow,” Henry replies with a victorious grin.

Dread and confusion collide inside you. Why would President Snow visit you and your husband of all people? While Henry’s been rising in ranks quite fast, you can’t picture the leader of the country making time for people like you.

But you don’t voice these thoughts, instead you inquire, “Are you sure my cooking will be enough for him? His palate is used to those fancy meals at the Capitol.”

He cradles your face and plants a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t doubt yourself, honey. You’re an amazing cook.”

“I just don’t want to let you down,” you confess, anxiously chewing on your lip.

“You won’t,” he assures. His chestnut gaze dives into yours. “This could be a great opportunity for us. Imagine what being close to Snow could do for our lives. He could promote me. We could even move to a bigger place.”

Your brows knit. “I love our place.”

Henry laughs. “Yes but the day we expand our family, you have to admit it’ll be a little small.”

You peer at your surroundings. Every corner of the little house harbors a beloved memory. You’d hate leaving it behind, but you suppose he’s right. You might outgrow it one day.

Henry frames your chin to draw your focus back to him.

“Just be yourself,” he says. “Your kind, sweet, wonderful self and all will be well.”

Nodding, you give a feeble smile.

“Understood.”

The next day is spent meticulously cleaning every inch of the house. For hours you’re anxious, wondering what to say or do, how to behave. You don’t have the natural wit and charm to impress someone like Coriolanus Snow. You keep worrying you’ll speak out of turn and embarrass Henry. Preparing dinner is the only time your mind is at rest. You stir the vegetables in the stew, smiling as the delectable scent fills your nostrils. It’s simmered for hours to create a rich flavor. It’s only your second time trying this recipe so you’re a bit nervous. Henry adored it but he’s your husband. You don’t know if President Snow’s delicate taste buds will find your meals to his liking.

You’re slightly more confident about your strawberry cake. While you struggled with it at first, the frosting never quite coming out the way you wanted, it’s now turned into one of your specialties.

The doorbell rings and you freeze. You glance up at the clock hanging near the stove. Already? Time has flown and you didn’t notice.

As you approach the door, you smooth out the wrinkles in your apron and straighten your spine. You take a deep breath before opening the door.

A wobbly smile cants your lips upwards.

“President Snow, it’s an honor,” you greet cheerfully.

The tall blond crosses the threshold after your husband. You take him in, trying to girdle your apprehension. He casts an imposing figure with his slicked back silver locks and tailored purple suit, the signature white rose pinned to his left breast pocket as always.

An aura of authority seems to follow him wherever he goes.

“Please, the honor is mine,” Snow says. His sky gaze roams across the living room. His expression is unreadable and you feel a bit self-conscious. It’s likely not as luxurious as what he’s used to. But to your surprise, he looks right at you and says, “What a lovely abode.”

His nose twitches as he hums, “I smell something heavenly, for me perhaps?”

You nod.

“I made beef stew.”

“Wonderful.”

Your cheeks warm at the compliment.

“Shall we sit?” Henry says, escorting him to the dining room.

You rush to the kitchen and throw your apron on a chair. Inhaling a lungful of nerve, you slip on gloves and grab the pot from the stove. Slowly, you bring out the food. Your skin tingles with the weight of Snow’s eyes on you.

You ladle out the stew on each plate. When you circle the table to serve Snow, you feel the faintest brush of fingertips over your hip. You flinch.

When you look at him, an almost imperceptible smile hovers on his lips. You blink and it almost seems like it’s gone, as if you dreamt the entire instant. The ladle wavers in your hand.

Did he mean to do that? Once again, you question your own senses, your sanity. It was a fleeting touch, the accidental kind that occurs everyday. But somehow your nerves are agitated with this mere, insignificant second.

Quickly, you round the table and plop down in the chair next to your husband. He squeezes your hand beneath the table, his brown gaze spelling “good job”. Relief sits inside you. You spent all day agonizing over every aspect of tonight so it’s nice to know Henry appreciates your efforts at least.

Everyone starts eating, your husband and Snow engaging in topics you only listen to with half an ear. Instead you focus on your plate, swallowing tiny bites of the stew.

The flavor is nice and rich, just like you hoped, and pride trickles inside you.

“You’re so silent. Are we boring you?”

Snow’s abrupt statement yanks a sharp gasp from you. Your head snaps up. You realize both he and Henry are staring at you. Your face warms.

“N-No, I just don’t have anything interesting to contribute,” you stammer, your head dipping.

“My wife has no mind for politics, I’m afraid,” Henry chuckles.

Your mouth screws shut, your fingers tightening around your spoon. It’s more that your opinions differ vastly and there are things Henry prefers you don’t say aloud.

A crooked smirk blooms on Snow’s lips.

“Ah, a pretty, silent one. I believe you lucked out with this one, Henry.”

Your teeth grind as your brows twitch. Pretty and silent. You don’t know why the words chafe you, cutting into you as deep as a knife.

You rise from your chair and grab your near empty plate.

“I should go clean the kitchen,” you announce with a terse smile.

You don’t look back as you walk away, berating yourself with every step.

This isn’t how one should behave in front of him. But you also don’t think you can spend another second in his presence.

You rub the sponge over the top of the stove, satisfaction trickling inside you as the grease and sauce stains are wiped away. You bask in the calm, concentrated on your task.

A warm breath tickles the shell of your ear.

“You seemed peeved before.”

Sucking a sharp breath, you whirl on your heels. Your hand spreads over your chest as your vision is filled with the towering frame of President Snow. His stance is relaxed as he peers at you curiously.

“You scared me…President.”

He ignores your reaction, continuing his statement from before, “When we were discussing the next reaping.”

You shake your head. “I wasn’t peeved.”

“Your face, it did that thing.” Your forehead creases. He inches closer. The scent of roses, thick and heady, coats your senses. Your head starts spinning. “Like now. It bothered you.”

Panic flutters through you. This is a man who could have you hanged or jailed for saying the wrong thing. But something about his expression tells you he won’t relent, that he'll only take the truth and nothing else.

So your heart spills out of you.

“In an ideal world, we wouldn’t need the Hunger Games. They are…” You trail off, remembering yourself, who you’re speaking to. You bite down your feelings and go quiet.

But Snow bends over you, crowding your space as your back hits the edge of the stove.

“What? Barbaric? Cruel?” He chuckles and goosebumps rise on your flesh. “But we do need them, dove. Every single year. So the districts never forget their place, and most importantly ours.”

Your lip quakes. Snow’s gaze follows the motion, his lips slanting lopsidedly.

“Such a sweet soul,” he whispers.

He suddenly backs away from you. Air rushes back to your lungs.

“It’s late. I should take my leave. Thank you for a most…enlightening dinner.”

You resume your life and, for a while, everything is normal. Henry doesn’t talk about that night again and neither do you, the both of you bonded by that silent agreement. Maybe he saw Snow talking to you in the kitchen, maybe he didn’t. You’ll never know as he keeps his thoughts to himself, throwing himself into his work and acting like his usual self.

And if there’s a bit more distance between the two of you in the marital bed, you try not to let it bother you. With time, the strangeness will fade and you and Henry will be back on track, trying for a child and enjoying marital bliss.

Though one evening, things are anything but normal. In fact, the world all but ends.

Your husband peruses the notice letter for rent once more. The blood seems to leave his face.

He runs his fingers through his dark curls.

“I don’t understand.”

Hands resting on his shoulders, your heart skips a beat as you read the neat printed letters.

Rent in your building has doubled overnight. If you and your husband do not pay up by next week, you will be evicted. Houseless.

Hell, you might even be sent back to your district. Your heart plummets to your feet. Your knees buckle underneath you. Henry catches you before you fall, leading you to the sofa as panicked breaths rush through your lungs.

He hunkers in front of you and holds your hands.

“I promise you I’ll find a way. Take out a loan or-”

“A loan we won’t be able to pay back?”

His jaw clenches. “Just let me handle it, okay?”

Though doubts creep inside you, you nod.

The days race along, tension growing each day as the deadline is approaching. Only three days. In just three days, you and your husband will be evicted unless a miracle happens.

And you conclude from the dark circles under Henry’s eyes and the way he barely answers when you speak to him, that he’s as clueless as you are.

There is no solution. Once again, the Capitol and its arbitrary rules strike.

So you come to a decision.

A decision that leads you in front of the biggest mansion in the entire Capitol. President Coriolanus Snow’s house. You suck in a wide lungful, quelling a shudder at the sight of the blue-clad peacekeepers lining the walls.

You stride towards the massive entrance gates. White roses twine around the wrought iron, their thorns seeming as sharp as knives.

You gather your nerves and lift a tremulous hand towards the intercom.

Before you can even state your matter, a disembodied, feminine voice rises from the device.

“Do you have an appointment?” the woman asks stiffly.

Hasty words pour out of you. “No, but I just need a minute-”

“President Snow doesn’t accept any visitors,” she responds harshly.

Your heart sinks. Of course he doesn’t. It was naive of you to cling to the illusory hope he’d see you anyway. Just for one dinner he likely forgot about. He’s the president. There are crucial matters that perpetually call for his attention. A myriad of things bigger and more important than a single Capitol citizen’s rent issues.

Still, you elect to try again, remembering the imminent deadline.

“Please,” you beg. “It’s very important.”

A distorted sigh ripples from the intercom.

“If you do not leave the premises, we will be compelled to remove you from the property, miss.”

One of the peacekeepers posted at the gates looks straight at you, his hand tightening over the rear of his machine gun. A wave of ice spreads through your veins.

You swallow and step back, accepting your defeat. Burning with shame, you start walking away from the mansion.

But you’re hardly a feet away, as the same voice from before erupts again, much softer this time.

“My apologies, miss. I didn’t realize you were a close friend of President Snow.”

Your jaw hangs slack as you turn.

A woman with long dark hair appears through the open gates.

“Please, follow me,” she says as she approaches you. “The president will see you right away.”

Still steeped in utter shock, you acquiesce. You trail behind her. You can’t help but allow your eyes to wander as the woman escorts you through a dizzying series of hallways. While the front of the mansion is impressive with its lavish gardens and striking architecture, the inside is just as grandiose. You feel small as your gaze rests on all the sculptures and paintings decorating every corner of the house. Everywhere you look, there is something beautiful and eye-catching. The entire house is like a museum, meant to be admired rather than lived in.

Eventually the woman halts in front of a mahogany door. She tugs on the brass handles and stands to the side, making room for you to walk in. You mumble ‘thank you’ under your breath as you stumble inside the office.

President Snow’s blue eyes crinkle when they rest on you.

“Hello, dove. Why don’t you have a seat?” he offers, pointing at the chair before his desk.

Licking your lips, you do as he says. Despite the softness of the plush upholstery you sit on, your nerves flare up. You had an entire speech ready, one you practiced on the way here.

But now that you’re here, his intense focus pinned on you, you’re at a loss.

Shaky words trickle out of your mouth.

“President Snow. I know you must be so busy…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupts, leaning back in his leather chair. “I always find time for my friends.”

You swallow the lump in your throat.

“T-That’s a relief to hear,” you stammer.

A maid brings a kettle and biscuits on a silver platter.

“Tea?” Snow asks as he picks up the kettle.

“No, thank you.”

As Snow pours himself a cup, you ponder your next words. You don’t want to seem greedy but you can’t think of an elegant way to state your purpose.

So you settle for the truth.

“I came because…my husband and I are in a bit of trouble.”

Snow scrutinizes you for a while. Your stomach tightens.

He then gives a sluggish nod, bending forwards as his fingers lace together.

“Do tell me everything, dove.”

You do exactly that. Snow is silent as your trembling voice fills his office. No word leaves his mouth while he listens. You don’t skip out a single detail, making a point to emphasize what consequences could befall upon you and your husband should you fail to meet the deadline.

When you’re done, he sips from his tea cup and hums, “How unfortunate.”

“Can’t it be undone? I mean, couldn’t you…”

He chuckles along the porcelain rim of his cup. “I’m not responsible for every law and charter. I approve them, of course, but there are committees, councils. Each law serves the betterment of Panem as a whole. I can’t undo what has been done. I mean, how would this look to the rest of the Capitol? Like I have a different set of rules for my friends? I have to look impartial.” Heaving out a deep sigh, he sets his cup down. “Apologies, dove, my hands are tied.”

The world seems to collapse around you. Your stomach sinks.

You surmise it was too big an ask, even for the President of Panem. You can’t expect special treatment. It was silly of you to even come hoping for anything resembling that.

You were foolish. Now you must collect the pathetic remnants of your dignity and take your leave.

Gulping down the tears pressing at the back of your eyes, you nod.

“I’m sorry I asked,” you croak, already beginning to rise from your chair.

His deep lilt pauses your motion.

“But I suppose…there could be a solution. An alternative.”

Your brow furrows as you drop back on the chair.

“An alternative?”

“I could cover the difference.”

Your mouth nearly hits the floor. Snow using his own funds to help? It could be the very miracle you and your husband waited for. You would have to pay him back over time, of course. But for now, it would allow you and Henry to keep the apartment.

It’s a godsend.

“You would do that for us?” you mutter, shock stealing your air.

His reply is nonchalant. “Yes. I’d simply file it under my own personal investments.” Slanting his head sideways, he studies you. “I’d just ask for a small favor in exchange.”

“A favor?”

You wonder what kind of favor you could do for someone like Coriolanus Snow, the man who has everything and more. Gaping at him, you wait for him to elaborate.

He leans forward, crossing his arms over his desk.

“It’s not much but it would mean the world to me. The house needs some upkeep. Just a few light chores here and there. No cleaning, of course; I have an entire staff in charge of that. But the garden needs tending.” His inflection softens as he takes you in. “A home cooked meal every now and then would be nice, and I might sometimes ask you to join me for tea and conversation…” Mirth sways in his cerulean orbs. “As dreadful as that may sound.”

You move your head in assent.

“I think I can do that. But w-why me?”

He gives a long exhale, resting his jaw in his hand.

“Honestly dove? You’d be the one doing me a favor. All day, I’m surrounded by vultures.” Snow rolls his eyes skyward. “Sycophants who placate me with false smiles and honeyed lies.” His tone warms when his gaze falls back on you. “I simply wish to return home to someone genuine, someone who would never lie to me. And you wouldn’t, would you?”

“W-What?”

“Lie to me.”

Your skin heats under his scrutiny.

Trying not to squirm, you sputter, “Never, sir.”

“Music to my ears,” the young president croons.

It’s not sounding like more work than what you do at home. You can already hear Henry’s discontent echoing in your head. You won’t have as much time for him. That too will be yet another adjustment.

But what other option is there? Even the family of four above yours had to move, unable to keep up with the sudden rent increase. You and Henry could be next.

“I…W-When do I start?”

The corners of Snow’s lips tug upwards.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

“You’re going to work for him?”

Henry’s displeasure ripples through you. You twine your hands and cast him an apologetic look. He despises that you went behind his back; you know that. But Henry ran himself ragged trying to come up with a solution. You didn’t want him to carry the burden on his own. That is not what a marriage is.

“He needs a housekeeper, of sorts. And he paid this month’s rent and the next upfront.”

Henry’s brows crumple. “Still, that’s…” Shoulders sagging, he crashes onto the sofa. The built-up exhaustion of the last few days seems to return all at once. You know he hasn’t slept a wink this whole week. Heart squeezing, you join his side and cradle his hand in your lap. Henry’s voice is dripping with shame and regret. “The entire reason I moved us here is so you never have to want for anything, so you wouldn’t have to work or suffer another day in this life.” His head dips. “I failed you.”

You cup his face, plunging your eyes into his.

“You didn’t fail me. And I won’t suffer. Sometimes life throws you lemons and you just have to squeeze those suckers dry.”

A hollow chuckle slips through his lips.

You run your thumbs over his growing beard.

"Listen, I know this wasn’t in our plans, but it’s just for now. In time, we’ll figure something out but I have to do this.” You lean your forehead against his. “For us.”

“Okay,” he belatedly concedes. He pulls your hands to his chest, kissing your knuckles.

“Just come home when you’re done.”

“I will,” you promise.

The first day slogs forth without a hitch. A car picks you up in the morning and drops you off at President Snow’s estate. The dark-haired woman from before welcomes you, introduces you to the staff and walks you through your duties. You learn her name is Ariadne.

You spend most of the day busy in the garden and library. Snow’s garden of roses might be one of the hidden treasures of Panem. Taking care of it is a pleasure and you even give yourself some minutes to bask in the sun’s warmth.

The library shelves need dusting and you tend to this task as well, humming familiar tunes to yourself while working. It is no harm if no one is around to hear you sing.

You don’t get bored as there’s always a task requiring your attention in the massive house.

When stars begin to dust the darkening sky, you rush to the kitchen. You get started on dinner. Staff members give you space to work and you’re grateful. You don’t like being ogled while you cook. You marvel at the gold, high-end appliances as you knead your dough. The kitchen is pristine, like everything else in the house. You settle for something simple, hearty and warm. There is no point in pretending you’re some fancy chef when you’re not. If it’s what Snow desired, he’d have hired one. There’s a plethora of them in the Capitol for him to choose from after all. And they’d all line up outside his house in a heartbeat if he requested it.

You stand nervous, hands folded in your lap as the meal you prepared is brought out onto silver plates. You spent hours on it. Hopefully he likes it.

“This smells like heaven,” Snow purrs.

He then points at the chair next to his on the long table.

“Have a seat.”

Your eyes bulge. Not only are you stunned by his request, as there are so many other chairs on the gigantic dinner table, but you were hoping to return home to Henry once dinner was served.

“Oh, I thought…”

He smiles at you. “I hate dining alone.”

You consider arguing. But as you remember all that you owe him, your mouth squeezes shut. You give a meek nod and drag your feet to the chair.

“Of course.”

You pick up your knife and fork…one of the knives and forks. You choose at random, unsure what purpose each of the cutlery items serves.

A smile waltzes upon Snow’s lips as he watches you. Shame pools in your gut. You feel like you’re making a fool of yourself.

He takes a bite of food and hums low in his throat, his eyes closing.

“Your cooking never fails to amaze, dove,” he lauds. Blue eyes search your face. “Are you hiding other talents from me?”

Your eyes lock onto your napkin, following the swirl of the flower patterns sewn in the corners. “I don’t think so,” you mumble.

Dinner continues in silence, only occasionally shattered by Snow’s sounds of delight and words of praise. Your own bites are small. While you’re glad it turned out the way you wanted, you’d rather save your appetite for home.

When a maid brings tea after the meal, Snow raises a dismissive hand.

“We’ll have tea and cakes in the study,” he announces.

Your face scrunches. “But it’s getting late. I should-”

“I must insist,” he interrupts. He rises from his seat and offers you his outstretched hand.

His smile broadens.

“You would rob me of your company so swiftly, dove? How cruel of you.”

Reluctantly, you accept the hand he gives you. He helps you out of your chair and motions at you to follow him.

The both of you end up in his study, sitting by the fire. Tea is placed on the small table between you. Coriolanus takes a slow sip while you fiddle with your hands.

His cerulean gaze locks with yours.

“That song you were humming earlier.”

Your chest seizes.

The loud thudding of your heart fills your ears. You swallow thickly.

“A song?”

“Yes,” he says absently, adding another spoonful of sugar to his cup. He gives a small stir before bringing it to his lips again. “I heard it as I walked by the library.”

You try not to let your panic show, cloaking yourself in false nonchalance. You thought you were discreet, quiet almost.

“Ah, that. It’s nothing,” you elude.

“No, it was lovely. You have the voice of an angel.”

The compliment leaves you speechless.

But his next words tie your stomach in knots.

“I want to hear it again.”

“I don’t really…perform for audiences.”

“You mean since you left the Covey?”

Mouth agape, you stare at him. How did he find out? You don’t remember ever bringing it up. In fact, you wouldn’t. You expend great effort to hide your past on a daily basis.

Your reaction draws a snort from him. Amusement bounces in his orbs.

“Come on, dove, that accent…It might fool others but not me.”

“I don’t sing anymore,” you state firmly.

Even if you did, you wouldn’t do it for Coriolanus Snow. Not of your own free will.

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His inflection becomes sharp, all softness evanescing. “Remember when I told you that I hated lies?” His pointed gaze sends chills through your body. “Sing for me, dove.”

Your mouth goes dry as sand.

You understand his words for what they are. An order from your president. A strange order…but an order nonetheless.

You don’t get to refuse. You’re to sing for him, whether it pleases you or not.

Like a bird in a cage.

So you do it. Your lips fall open and clear, soft notes rise out of you. A traditional song your mother taught you. It tells the story of a girl who meets a boy with ocean eyes, how she drowns in them but the fall is like rising to heaven.

As your voice fills his office, Snow’s scorching gaze doesn’t leave you.

When the song is done, he doesn’t applaud or praise you.

Instead, his eyes bear into you for what feels like an eternity. You try not to move, though your heart thunders in your chest.

“See, was that so hard?” he asks, that cocky smile still adorning his lips. You don’t reply, your throat ablaze. It felt as if you didn’t belong to yourself just then. And it terrifies you. He slides your untouched cup towards you. “Drink your tea before it gets cold. Then, you can go home.”

Without a protest, you lift the cup to your mouth. One measly cup of tea and you’ll get to go home. Then this uncomfortable evening can end. Finally.

But as the liquid trickles inside your mouth, tendrils of darkness lurk in your vision. Your body gets heavier. So heavy you can’t hold the cup anymore, or even yourself. The porcelain dish vanishes from your hands. You sag into your chair.

Progressively, colors dim around you.

Then sleep drags you down into a rabbit hole of utter oblivion. And all is blackness.

Softness like you’ve never felt before greets you when you awake. Like being embraced by fluffy clouds. For a while, you linger in the comfortable sensation, humming against the plush blankets. But as your eyes land on the thin slice of sunlight spilling from the window, you unleash an audible gasp.

You bolt in a sitting position.

Your eyes widen as you find Ariadne observing you between the velvet curtains at the end of the bed.

Gripping the side of your head, you glance at your surroundings. Clearly, you’re in a room. But how did you wind up here? No matter how hard you try, you can’t summon a single memory from last night.

“Ariadne? What happened?”

She circles the bed to take a seat next to you. Her gentle tone alleviates your rising panic.

“You fell asleep,” she explains. “Master Snow brought you here so you can get some proper rest.”

You sigh. It does make sense. Though you can’t stamp out the trickle of embarrassment sitting inside you with that knowledge. You dozed off on the job, on your first day. Hopefully, Snow isn’t too offended.

“I must have been more tired than I thought,” you mutter, looking down.

“He’s gone now; he had urgent business at the Justice Building. But he insisted you eat a proper meal before you go.” She points at the golden food cart near the bed, every tray brimming with pastries, fruits, meats and cheeses. Way more than you could eat in a single meal.

The kind of decadent abundance the Capitol likes to indulge in.

You politely decline.

“I can’t…I have to return to my husband. He must be worried sick.”

Ariadne puts a hand on your arm.

“Word has been sent to him that you were simply tending to Master Snow’s needs last night.”

You purse your lips. It’s not ideal but at least he knows you were working.

“Good,” you reply, nodding.

You yank the blanket off your body, determined to stand up and leave. But as soon as you’re on your feet, you crash back down on the bed, a strange ache awakening in your limbs.

Your forehead creases. You hug your stomach, a vicious cramp creeping there too.

Ariadne’s immediately at your side, placing her hands over your arms.

“Take it easy, miss,” she warns. “You exerted yourself a great deal yesterday.” She beams brightly. “In fact, Master Snow has given you a few days off. He was very satisfied with your work and expects you in three days’ time.”

Your brows rise. “Oh, that’s very generous.”

Her grin expands.

“He is exceedingly pleased with your performance.”

Over the next few weeks, Snow keeps summoning you sporadically. The days you work for him are pretty much the same. You attend to your daily tasks, you cook for him and then the two of you have tea in his study. He has you sing for him sometimes. You’ve learnt to swallow your feelings and perform according to his whim. You don’t even sing to yourself anymore, the exultation you drew from it all but gone. It was a way to stay connected to your Covey roots, to keep your family close to your heart. Now you can’t do it without his icy gaze invading your thoughts.

You often end up incredibly tired on those days, your body aching and sore for hours afterwards. You never imagined working for Coriolanus Snow would drain you so much. Falling asleep in his house even turns into a regular occurrence, happening almost every time you show up for work.

Naturally, Henry isn’t thrilled with that. Every time you come back home, too tired to wait on him hand and foot like you used to, his displeasure grows.

But he’s also yet to find a way to fix the issue, so the two of you must keep working. You’ve already sold everything that you could, clothes, any belonging of slight value.

The gap is still too vast.

And the city won’t allow you to apply for another place to live, claiming the waitlist is already sky-high.

Though you resent it, Coriolanus Snow is your only hope.

“You’re not in charge of dinner tonight,” Ariadne announces one night as you fire the stove.

You turn the burners off, your eyes rounding.

“I’m not?”

A bright smile blooms on the brunette’s face.

“Master Snow is inviting you to dine with him as his guest, to express gratitude for your outstanding work.”

Your lips part in surprise. In the many weeks you’ve worked for President Snow, this has never happened. You have shared meals, of course, but you’ve never received such a formal invitation.

You suppose it’s all a game to Snow, and he simply changes the rules whenever he feels it.

She astonishes you further when she urges you to follow her to one of the guest bedrooms.

Utter dismay fills you.

A white dress lies atop the bed. The sleeveless evening gown looks more expensive than any dress you’ve ever laid eyes on. The delicate white silk flares at the waist, the gigantic, fluffy layered skirt making your head spin already. You imagine how hard it'd be to move in such a dress. Though you surmise it won’t be too much of a concern as you only need to sit through dinner with it.

“Master Snow expects you to wear this tonight,” Ariadne chimes.

She helps you slip on the dress, a task you undoubtedly would have struggled to complete on your own, the many layers of tulle, silk and lace of the huge skirt alone their own challenge.

Eventually, you’re dressed.

She escorts you to the dinner room. Curious eyes dart about the halls, noting their unusual emptiness. Not a single footman, maid or Avox in sight.

You’re alone.

“The house is very quiet,” you point out.

Ariadne beams at you from above her shoulder.

“The entire staff’s been sent home. Master Snow wants to wait on you himself tonight.”

Your stomach knots, a foreboding feeling swelling within you.

Still, you glide forward. It’s a little late to turn back.

When you enter the diner room, Snow’s face lights up. He makes his way to you. As usual, he’s dashing, his platinum blonde locks neatly combed back and his crimson suit highlighting his tall frame.

His gaze twinkles as he drinks you in.

“You’re a vision, dove.” He lifts your hand and brushes his lips over your knuckles. His eyes slam into yours. Time seems to hang still for a few seconds. “As I know you would be.”

Keeping your hand in his, he escorts you to your seat. He pulls your chair for you and you fumble with your skirt a little before finding a comfortable way to sit.

“So…no maids today?” you say lightly.

His lips slant. He removes the lid off one of the pots. The mouthwatering smell instantly reaches you.

“I thought it’d be nicer to enjoy a quiet, private dinner together, as a way to celebrate.”

Your face contorts into a puzzled expression.

“Celebrate?”

“Your last day as my housekeeper,” he replies cheerfully.

Your heart misses a beat. Is he firing you?

You attempt to tamp down the quake in your voice. You fail miserably.

“Really?”

He gauges you and his smile grows.

“Yes. In fact, you and your husband will never have to worry about rent anymore. Him especially. Everything’s settled.”

An audible exhale slips through your mouth.

“This is…I don’t know what to say.”

“You can say thank you.”

“Thank you, President Snow.”

His laugh resonates in the near empty dining room.

“Please, call me Coriolanus.” He ladles soup onto your plate before bending close. You tense as his warm breath ghosts over your temple. “We’re quite…close now, aren’t we, dove?”

You gulp down the lump in your throat.

“I suppose we are…Coriolanus.”

You wince. Uttering his name feels wrong, forbidden almost.

Satisfaction doesn’t part from his handsome features as he regains his seat. He gestures for you to start eating. You feel a bit self-conscious as he observes you intently.

Still, you do as he heeds, not needing to be told twice.

The quicker you eat, the quicker you’ll get to be home and out of the uncomfortable dress.

You groan as your lids flutter, a blurry shape rocking back and forth in your vision. Fatigue tugs at your heavy limbs as you stir. Your forehead scrunches. Your body’s hot, like a furnace, like you’re burning from the inside out. Tingles spark somewhere in you and you keen sharply, leaning into the sensation. Feverish whispers surround you, words you don’t comprehend in your daze.

The pull and tear. The pleasure mingling with the pain. You’re in a strange dream, maybe a nightmare.

Deep-chested grunts land in your ears. You awake further. It’s a voice you recognize, from somewhere…but not like this. Never like this. Something’s wong. Your forehead wrinkles. Something’s wrong but you’re so tired. So so tired. Your mind’s like cotton. Your limbs are as rocks.

As your lids sag, something slams into you. Fast, hard and vicious.

Your heart bounces. Your eyes snap open.

Your stomach drops.

A sinister smile you know too well by now welcomes you.

“Hello, dove. Awake, finally,” Snow whispers, his hips snapping into yours. Your breath catches as his cock grazes against your sweet spots. You clench around him and he chuckles darkly. “That angle always does it for you.” Smugness oozes off his hoarse timbre.

You look up at him. Sweat dots his brow, his tousled blonde locks clinging to his forehead. His blue eyes are cloudy with lust. His white shirt is half open, revealing a glimpse of the bare, glistening muscles underneath.

And as your gaze travels lower, horror flares inside you.

You gape with wide eyes as his veiny length disappears inside you. Again and again. The fluffy white shirt is bunched around your waist, your panties torn, exposing your lower body to President Snow’s lewd scrutiny entirely. His large hands dig into your hips, trailing crescent bruises in the shape of his fingernails.

Your shocked gaze finds his.

His smile expands.

“P-President Snow, what are you doing?”

You know it’s a stupid question…but you have to make sense of this. Because none of this can be real. Maybe it’s a nightmare and you’re still sleeping.

You gasp as he pushes you into the mattress, piledriving into you at an angle that has you seeing stars.

“Taking what’s mine, of course,” he says matter-of-factly, hooking his arm under your thigh.

He lifts you and spreads you even more. His darkened gaze follows the motion of his cock as he pounds into you, an insatiable look twisting his handsome features.

Reaching between your tangled bodies, he pinches your tender heap of nerves. He rubs against it, teasing it with maddening circles until your legs quake. You come apart beneath him, crying out as your back arches against the soft sheets.

“Please, stop,” you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes.

Snow’s pace quickens. Ragged moans tear from your throat. Your vision flickers.

He bends over you to lick one of your tears, humming in satisfaction at the taste.

His lips drag against yours as he asks, “Is it truly what you want? Because it’s kind of hard to tell the way your pussy hugs my cock.” His mouth curves upward against your cheek. “Like it does every time.”

A wave of ice spreads through you.

Every time? Realization hits you, knife-like as it pierces through the veil of denial.

Every time…

The pieces fall into place as you remember all those times you fell asleep, unable to recall how you ended up in bed. Tired, confused…sore.

A shudder shoots through your frame.

You twist your body as panic seizes you.

Coriolanus growls when you clamber away from him, heading for the edge of the bed. You curse the pesky gown and the way it hinders your movements.

He yanks you back with ease, gripping the back of your head and shoving you down into the mattress.

Lips graze your earshell as he snarls, “Where are you going? We’re not done. We have to make sure you carry the next Snow heir.” In one stroke, he sinks into you from behind. You choke on your breath, the pain snatching your air. With one hand cinched around the back of your neck, he starts rutting into you. Your bruised folds ache at the blunt invasion. Still, your core clings to him in a way that stirs shame in your gut. “Although after all these times…” You hear the smile in his conceited inflection “It’s a given, isn’t it?”

Your eyes swell with tears. Your lips part in a silent scream. The sick song of flesh against flesh fills the room, mingling with his feral moans.

Each time your walls tighten around him, bile rises up your throat.

“What have you done to me?” you sob against the drenched silk sheets.

“Oh, I think you know,” he purrs. His warm breath fans over your scalp. “You can feel it, can’t you? How well your body knows me now, dove.”

His hips stutter, his thrusts getting sloppier. His cock twitches inside you. As warmth trickles alongside your walls, you feel sick again. He remains nestled inside you a while, panting above you and shoving the excess back in as you remain still.

As you feel his digits poke and prod, a chill runs through you.

You can’t let him touch you again.

You keel over the edge of the bed, heading straight towards the floor. Pain ripples through your knees as they hit the carpet. You’re forced to ignore the crack resounding through your bones, awkwardly getting to your feet and dashing to the wooden swing doors.

Coriolanus’ wicked laugh echoes behind you.

“Oh, dove, if you wanted to play hide and seek, all you needed to do was to ask,” he taunts.

Terror grips your throat. You ignore it alongside everything else. Alongside the pain, alongside the uncertainty, alongside the fact that you can still feel him inside you. Like you never left the bed. Like you’re still caged in his embrace.

Your legs carry you, barefoot and panicked, as you run through the palatial hallways as fast as the bothersome white dress will allow.

The president’s deep voice bounces against the ornate walls.

“Ready or not, here I come, my darling.”

The blood rushes to your feet. Your head spins and your feet tangle. You trip. Immediately, you gather yourself. You lift the skirt and dive hastily towards the living room. You duck behind a sofa.

It’s a pathetic place to hide; you know it. But the lavish mansion is nothing but open spaces doused in sunlight.

There is nowhere to hide.

The clamor of your heart is deafening in your ears as you hear objects crash to the floor a few feet away from you. Hand over your mouth to keep every sound in, you jerk every time the racket grows on the other side of the sofa.

His frustration coats the air.

“Come out, come out wherever you are, dove,” he calls, his tone icier than before.

You freeze, holding your breath and wishing he doesn’t think to look where you are.

The minutes pass, agonizingly slow. The flimsy hope that he may have left even begins to bloom inside you.

Hot air suddenly breezes over your nape.

“Found you.”

Your heart leaps to your throat. You go still. Coriolanus hauls you from the floor, half-carrying you and half-lugging you across the living room. You try to bite and claw any part of him you can reach but his hand locks around your throat.

He slams you harshly against a wall. Your head rings, the lines of his face momentarily doubling in your vision. You bite his hand. Cursing under his breath, he bangs your head against the wall again. You go limp.

Through your hazy sight, you note the scarlet trail streaking the back of his hand. You drew blood. Even if you’re lost, you bask in the ephemeral second of victory.

He carries your unmoving form the rest of the way back to his bedroom. You loathe yourself for your stillness. You want to put up a fight. You want to claw. You want to bite. You want to kill him with your bare hands.

But all you can do is simmer in helplessness as he brings you right back to the very place you tried to escape.

He gently releases you on the bed then climbs over you. Goosebumps erect on your flesh as he caresses the side of your face, a strangely fond gesture considering everything he put you through.

“Please,” you mumble weakly. “You can have anyone you want. I have a husband.”

His face contorts into an expression of pure mockery, as if what you said was beyond ludicrous.

“I don’t want just anyone.” He lifts your chin, scorching blue gaze diving into yours. “I want you.”

“As for your husband…” His voice trails off as he traces your trembling bottom lip with his thumb. A crooked smirk drags his lips skyward. He leans over you to whisper, “Well I did say he’ll never have to worry about rent ever again, didn’t I?”

Your heart sinks. You can’t believe you trusted Coriolanus Snow. A foolish mistake. A dangerous mistake. One you’re now paying dearly. He not only trapped you…he also hurt Henry.

All because of you.

You will never forgive yourself.

“What did you do to him?” you ask, anger and heartbreak making your voice wobble.

A chill-inducing glint dances in his orbs.

“I haven’t done anything.” He cocks his head. “Rebels are criminals of the state and shall be sentenced as such.”

The world collapses around you.

A chasm of despair swallows you whole as quiet tears stream down your face.

As sobs shake your frame, President Snow plants soft kisses on your wet cheeks. You feel him grow hard against your belly as he hums, as if the taste of your hopelessness was ambrosia to him. Heavenly sweet.

He cups your face.

“Do not fret, dove. I’ll make sure you don’t miss a second of his execution.” The emptiness of his blue eyes staggers you, their depths as icy as a frozen lake. “It’s important for all citizens of Panem to learn from watching.”

The expression on his face turns downright diabolical. His knuckles sweep over the apple of your cheek.

“And I want you to learn as you watch the light go out in his eyes, dove, that this was inevitable, that I always win.”

His tone softens as his hands drag over your hips.

“I wonder how many children you’ll give me. Will they all sing as pretty as you?” The hurried rustle of his pants as he frees his cock freezes your blood. He bites his lip, lust already misting his gaze as he prods impatiently at your entrance.

“I suppose we’ll just have to find out,” he croons.

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

4K notes · View notes

notafunkiller · 6 months

Text

tying you to me

Summary: When your boss, Bucky, apologizes for being rude to you once again, things take an unexpected turn.

Pairing: boss!Bucky Barnes x marketing director!female reader

Warnings: 18+, teasing, dirty talk, pet names, sir kìnk, breasts insecurity, protected séx, bøndage, a little degrading, praising kìnk, language, implied aftercare, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 5.2K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

A/N: I really hope you'll enjoy it!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

He’s well aware he went too far. He noticed right when he finished talking and took a look at you, but what is said is said. And the last thing he wants is Steve annoying him about the meeting.

“I don’t question the way you deal with employees, do I?” Bucky snaps, tired and really wanting this day to be over.

“What has gotten into you? What bothers you so much about her? I just don’t get it.”

Bucky sighs deeply, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration. “It’s not just one thing,” he mutters, his tone weighed down by a mix of tiredness and anger. “It’s a culmination... She’s fucking impossible.”

“Bucky, I get you’re upset, but taking it out on her isn’t fair. She did an incredible job, but you didn’t even listen to her. What’s really going on here?”

“I feel like she’s not seeing the bigger picture. We disagree constantly, and it’s making things difficult. Maybe I overreacted, but it’s been building up for a while.” Bucky leans in as he speaks, with his shoulders slightly hunched forward. His voice carries an edge that Steve notices immediately. He knows there is something about you that affects Bucky, but he can’t quite put the finger on it. Ever since he hired you, Bucky’s been angry with him too, which has happened only two or three times over twenty years of friendship.

“I can see this is really affecting you, Buck. If there’s something personal or if my decision to bring her on board has caused you any discomfort, talk to me. I just wanna make sure everything’s okay between us.”

He leans back a bit, surprised. “Personal? No, it’s not… it’s not about that,” he stammers, searching for the right words. There’s a subtle shake of his head, almost as if he’s trying to dismiss his own thoughts. He wishes there was a personal connection so badly that it messes with his head…

“Then what is it? I didn’t mean to jump to conclusions. I know you hate when things are not under your control, but I made the right call to hire her. And you were really unfair to her, look,” Steve waves around as he speaks, and Bucky turns to look at you through the glass door. You’re still there… working. “She’s not just smart and creative, but also ambitious and hard working. I know how much you value this as well.”

“I didn’t mean to come off unfairly. It’s just…” Bucky sighs, moving to shift his gaze back to Steve. “Our ways clash, and it’s hard to manage it. I value her skills, but finding a middle ground seems impossible sometimes.”

“Look, Buck, I understand it’s tough, but it’s important to listen to her ideas too,” Steve responds, his voice carrying a firm yet empathetic tone. “Today? You didn’t even look over the outlines. Try giving her ideas a chance or just suggest new things without trashing all of her work. You’d be offended too.” He pauses, and Bucky’s focus is back on you. His eyes narrow slightly, studying your determined expression as you delve into whatever you are working on that he dismissed today. And for a few seconds a pang of guilt flickers across Bucky’s expression, which Steve immediately catches. He clears his throat and continues. “I understand it’s not easy to step back and apologize, but it’s not about who’s right or wrong. And, to be honest, you were wrong anyway. It’s about ensuring a healthy workplace.”

“I appreciate your perspective, Steve,” he begins with a calm voice. “But I don’t think it would make a difference.” His gaze briefly flickers towards you before returning to Steve.

“Trust me, it’ll make a difference, not just for her but also for the team. Give it a shot.” Steve smiles, patting him on the chest before standing up. “I’ll leave you to it. It’s so late.”

“Alright, lovebird, off to your nest?” Bucky teases. “Natasha’s waiting for her captain. Better not keep her waiting too long.”

Steve chuckles. “Well, someone’s got to keep the romance alive around here. Good night.”

“Night...”

The audacity of this man is unbelievable. After all that shit he pulled on you today, he has the nerve to order your food! He’s the reason why you’re still working at eight pm instead of lying on your couch.

You are so close to crying out of exhaustion and anger, but you won’t give him this satisfaction. And you won’t eat his food.

“Are you seriously gonna starve yourself?”

“I’m not hungry,” you retort, your voice sharper than intended as you give him an annoyed look.

Bucky’s expression softens instantly, a hint of concern flickering across his face. “Come on, you’ve been working the whole day” he insists, trying to reason with you. “You need to eat something. Did you even drink water?”

You shake your head weakly.

“Look, I-”

“If you don’t like Pizza, I can grab you something else.”

You raise your hand, waving around. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine. I’ll eat something when I get home.”

The idea of accepting anything from him like this feels wrong. You don’t want his pity.

“Stubborn as ever,” he sighs, muttering under his breath, and you look up to meet his gaze. For a moment, there’s a silent understanding between you, an unspoken acknowledgment of the tension lingering from earlier.

What did Steve tell him to make him actually try to have a decent conversation?

“Look, sir,” you say through your teeth. “I don’t want your pity. I appreciate your concern, but I’ll manage. I just need to finish this.”

“This isn’t about pity.” His tone is firm. “You’re exhausted, and I’m just trying to help.”

“I said I’m fine. I’ll be done with these.” You lift your papers to emphasize. “And get home.”

“You’re not fine!” he shoots, surprising you. “And you’re too stubborn to see it!”

You’ve never seen him screaming before. Even when he is angry, he’s always the silent type.

“Don’t you dare!” you fire back all of a sudden, unable to hold back. If you’ll get fired, at least you should speak your mind properly. You can’t take more of this. He can’t step on you without consequences. “You are the reason why I am here anyway. Don’t play the concerned hero, just take your food and eat it...” You pause for a second before sarcastically adding. “Sir.”

“This isn’t just about the food, is it?” Bucky’s voice softens slightly despite his impulse to raise his voice again. “It’s about the meeting.” You keep looking him in the eyes, not denying the obvious. Of course it’s about the meeting. “Look, I am sorry, I know I should have handled things differently, but I’m trying to make it right.”

“You think a wannabe apology and food make everything okay?” You ask bitterly, standing up. “You humiliated me, Mr. Barnes. You didn’t even hear me out, you didn’t even listen to my ideas, what the team and I managed to do in the last few months. You disrespected them too! And I don’t get it...” You hate how tall he is. How perfectly his suit is ironed. How nice his hair is. Fuck him! “Ever since Steve hired me, you refused to communicate with me. It’s like you have decided who I am and what I’m worth without even giving me a chance, without acknowledging my efforts and results!”

“That’s not true,” he begins, trying to defend himself even though you both know you are right. “I made a mistake, I admit it, but I want to fix it.”

“A mistake?” You laugh humorlessly. “For months you’ve been treating me like shit, excuse my language.” You shake your head. “Actually I don’t. You should be the one apologizing! You look at me as if I am a scum, as if my presence bothers you. I come to you only when I have to, and you act as if I want to waste your time. Well, I wasted mine for months in this company. With you!”

Bucky snaps, feeling the frustration taking over him. “My decisions are based on what’s best for the company. It’s nothing pers-”

“That’s just a bullshit excuse to maintain the status quo!” you interrupt him, the tension escalating. You don’t care about this job anymore. Whatever will happen, let it happen. “You’re a stuck-up asshole, resistant to change and blind to new perspectives! My perspectives only, to be clear.” You see him clenching his jaw before his left hand covers his jaw. Oh, he’s angry. Good! “And it’s not even out of misogyny since you get along just fine with Shuri. So what is it? What is it, Mr. Barnes, that makes you hate me?”

“It’s not about you,” he insists, his voice strained with the effort to keep calm. “It’s about maintaining stability. It’s about-”

“Bullshit! You’re threatened by anything that challenges your authority! You’re just frustrated and insecure. You’re scared that someone else can do better things in their own way. You’re just a tyrant! I don’t know how Steve is friends with you. He’s such a great man, and you’re a dick.” You laugh. “God, I wanted to tell you this for so long. And if it’s not clear, I fucking quit!”

You’d smile widely if it wasn’t for his snort.

“You’re not quitting,” Bucky’s voice is low, but you still hear it.

He doesn’t believe you, clearly. But he will because you’re not joking or backing off. You can’t take another humiliation session, especially when you did nothing to deserve it. As much as you admire Bucky’s intelligence and company policies, he’s a fucking douchebag. To you.

“Watch me,” you retort instantly. Your heart starts racing as he takes another step toward you. He’s so close that you only need to get on your tiptoes to kiss him.

“No, you’re not quitting. And you’re not walking out that door until we settle this.”

“Settle what, Barnes? Your ego?” You try to maintain your composure, but the closeness makes it hard for you to focus.

He sighs, and your eyes find his lips again. They are pink and wet from his tongue. If only he was less of an asshole and not your boss, maybe you would...

“This isn’t just about me and my authority.”

“Then what is it?” You're confused.

“It’s about you challenging everything I’ve built here,” he admits, looking straight into your eyes.

“And you can’t handle that?” Your voice is filled with sarcasm, but for once he doesn’t focus on that.

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple, Mr. Barnes.”

“I... I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Deal with this... with you.”

“Deal with me?” You puff. “You’re insufferable, I am the one who has to deal with you and your constant checkups. With your: that’s not good enough, that needs to be changed, do this, do that over and over again.” You mimic his patronizing tone. “You don’t give me real suggestions-”

“I just... struggle with change.”

“And I’m the change you can’t handle?” The question hangs heavy between you, and his eyes drop to your lips this time.

“You challenge me,” he admits, his voice barely above the whisper. “You and your crazy ambition, your undying dedication, and your incredible ideas...” He pauses just to take a deep breath. “I feel like I’m suffocating every time I look at you.”

“Suffocating?” You roll your eyes. “How am I suffocating you? Just because I have an opinion and give you arguments-”

“I am fucking attracted to you, woman!”

You shake your head. He cannot just pull this lie and expect you to fall for it as if you are dumb. “Yeah, sure. Can you be a man for once and fucking take responsibility for your real thoughts and feelings? Just admit that you hate me!”

“Jesus Christ, are you that blind? For a woman so perceptive, you surely don’t see what’s right in front of you.”

You feel the anger take over your whole body. “Fuck you!”

“I wish! This is the whole point, the whole fucking point...”

“You want to fuck me for real?” You gasp, surprised and take a step back so you can look at him properly. He doesn’t seem to be joking.

“Deadly serious. And no matter how many times I tried to push this desire away, it just doesn’t work. You suffocate me. I imagine taking you all over my desk and couch. I imagine so many things, and I cannot focus.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slap him on the face lightly. Your palm is itching and gets red instantly, but you don’t care. As much as the info makes you happy, the context makes you super angry.

“So my team and I had to be humiliated just because you’re mad you want to get laid?”

“W-what? No!”

“No?”

“No. I deserved that,” he says referring to the slap. “But I meant what I said earlier. These are separate things.”

You cover your face with both your hands, not knowing what to say. What can you say? What should you think?

“I am sorry,” he sighs, and you hear him slowly walking away from you. “I should have said nothing. I am sorry. Please, don’t quit. You won’t have to work with me or even see me after this. Steve can take over, and you like him. I apologize not only for this, but also for my lack of… skills. I should have been more open to your ideas. And about tonight, I will wait for the HR email. I am sorry once again.”

Your head is spinning with all the things he’s just said. He wants you, but he’s also a bitch who cannot handle other opinions.

But you also want him. And you’ve wanted him despite how annoying he was. And he’s genuinely apologizing.

“Fuck it,” you whisper before going straight to him, pulling him by his tie toward you to kiss him.

He doesn’t hesitate at all, bringing his hands to your ass so you can feel each other better as he deepens the kiss instantly.

You shamelessly try to thrust your hips up a little as you let go of his tie, and his tongue feels like heaven in your mouth. His moan is low and hot, but you don’t let him breathe more than a second before you kiss him again, making sure to grab his hair and pull with force.

“Fuck me, Barnes. Fuck me right fucking now.”

He groans in your mouth once again, and you shiver.

“Jesus Christ, I’m gonna fuck you so well you won’t remember or think about anything else but my cock for days.” You instantly drop your hands so you can reach for his pants. Unbuckling them isn’t hard, but the zipper gets a little stuck, so Bucky has to finish the job for you.

“God, James,” you moan at the sight. “You’re leaking.”

He’s not embarrassed by this at all. On the opposite, he grabs his briefs too and pulls them down, letting them fall along with his pants.

You’re staring, but you can’t help it. His cock is so hard, and it even twitches as he grabs it to show it to you. It’s so thick.

“For you. This is all for you.”

Without waiting for a response, he suddenly grabs your shirt by the front placket and rips it in two. The buttons fly everywhere, one almost hits him in the face, but you don’t care. You’ve never been more turned on in your life. He’s so hot!

“Oh god, James,” you whisper, unclasping your bra before he can destroy it. It’s your best one, and you still need it.

“Yes,” he groans at the sight of your breasts, but you cannot ignore the wave of self-doubt that takes over you. They’re a little bigger than they should be for your height, so the sight is not the prettiest, in your opinion. This has always been an insecurity of yours, and even more after your last boyfriend made sure to emphasize this before you broke up. But Bucky seems fascinated. With his eyes glued to them and his mouth semi-open, he leans in, bringing his hands to both of your breasts before cupping them. You get goosebumps as he folds them eagerly, and you hear him groan when they spill over as soon as he tries to pull them together.

“James!”

But it’s like he can’t hear you, too engrossed in watching your nipples hardening even more, and before you tell him what you wanted to, you feel his wet mouth sucking in one of your nipples.

You’re taken aback, so he uses his gloved hand to make you stop moving by placing it on your waist firmly.

He’s suckling at this point, making low whimpers as he’s looking at you.

You swear you never saw a more beautiful man in your whole life. His blue eyes are hypnotic.

“F-fuck,” you curse, bringing your fingers to his hair. You need to grab something before you fall.

He switches to the other nipple, and you feel yourself throbbing. You need his cock so much. You need his mouth... you need him to make you come. And you want to do the same to him. He’s driving you crazy.

“F-fuck me! RIGHT NOW.” You’re screaming, but he’s not surprised, rather amused as he takes his mouth off your breasts with a pop.

“Easy there, you sound quite desperate,” he giggles as if he’s just made the funniest joke ever. You are desperate.

“Fuck me or I’ll finish myself off, and you won’t be able to touch me as I do. Your choice.”

You know he doesn’t like or do ultimata, but you have no alternative. You crave to be taken on his desk as hard as he can go.

“How can I fuck you if you still have your pants on?” He asks you extremely calmly, and you’re shocked. You expected a more... intense reaction. “Earth to you?” He waves his hand when he sees you zoning out.

“You didn’t take them off.”

“I don’t take your clothes off, love.” He smirks. “I rip them, so if you want them intact, you better do it yourself.”

You nod, enjoying how raspy his voice is, and take them off without looking away from his cock. Not that he could stop staring at your breasts. His eyes are glued to your nipples. Your underwear falls, and only when you step out of the pool of clothes and finally free your legs from the high heels, he brings his hand to your pussy.

“Oh God, look at this… drenched!”

You moan, moving a little into his palm as if you’re trying to ride it. You need him so badly.

“James-”

“I know.” He smiles, spreading your lips more. “I know. So needy, my poor baby needs her cock so she can relax.”

You whimper loudly as you close your eyes. “Take me, sir. Make me your little fuck toy. Take out your frustrations. You can... you can show me how I was wrong for quitting by fucking me until I feel your cock every time I walk. I need to,” you moan again as you keep grinding onto his hand. “Come on! Show me!”

Bucky’s eyes get so grey as he suddenly pulls his hand away, making you whine. You’re about to curse him, but what he does makes you stop. He starts to take off his tie quickly, and you smile.

“Good boy.”

That remark makes his snort, and he cryptically replies:

“Ah, ah, we’ll see about that later.”

“Take off that shirt faster, and your glove, too.”

That surprises him, his eyes immediately widening, so you decide to do it yourself since he’s not fast enough.

He freezes as soon as you pull off his glove, revealing a black with golden accents prosthetic hand.

“This is so fucking pretty, oh my God! Why do you keep this hidden?” You turn his hand around, and you gasp, realizing what you’ve just said. “I am sorry if I seem insensitive, it’s just that...”

Bucky snorts, amused, not hurt, which makes you feel like you can breathe again. The last thing you wanted was to bother him.

“You got a kink for my arm now?”

“You talk too much,” you murmur at the same time you start to unbutton his shirt as quickly as you can. Your hands are trembling.

When he’s finally naked, you let out a whimper, instantly reaching to touch his chest with both of your hands.

“You shave,” you say, surprised.

“Come on, love.” He smiles. “Touch my arm while you still can.”

You don’t question what he means by that, not wanting to worry too much. You expected this to be a one-time thing anyway, so you better enjoy every second of it. The arm is seamlessly integrated into his shoulder, and it's colder than the rest of his skin.

You trace a gold pattern all the way from his shoulder to his hand.

“I have a kink now,” you giggle when you see the sides of his neck getting pink.

“Well, I hope you have this kink, too, because…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he reaches for the tie he had on today and smiles. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

“W-what?”

“Hands behind your back.”

“You want to tie my hands?” You ask, taken aback by his demand.

“Did you try it before? Do you hate it?”

No, you didn’t try, but it doesn’t sound bad, surprisingly.

You usually hate not being in control, but it’s Bucky, and as annoying as he might be as your boss, you trust him. Plus, you quit after all, you should enjoy this as much as possible. The thought of him tying you up is really sexy for some reason, so you simply turn around and bring your hands together above your ass.

He doesn’t hesitate and quickly makes a knot.

“Too tight?”

“No,” you whisper. It’s not tight at all.

“You can tell me to stop any time, okay?” He wraps his hands around your waist and turns you toward him. “I’ll stop immediately.”

You nod, trying to get used to not being able to raise your hands.

“Words, please.”

“Yes, James.”

“Good girl.”

You’d lie if you said it doesn’t turn you on like crazy. You’ve been indirectly fighting with him for so long without getting any kind of approval or praise for your work. He made you angry and stressed more times than you could count, but you still respected him. You wanted his approval and you craved him...

You got yourself off thinking about him, you imagined choking him out of anger, but then it turning into a completely different thing. And it feels surreal this is actually happening, and he finally calls you a good girl.

“Are you clean? Anything-”

“I always used a condom, and I do checkups every six months. I assume the same about you.”

You nod, not bothering to tell him you don’t remember the last time you had sex, all thanks to him and his impossible to please ass.

“Do you have a condom?” You ask, moving closer to him again.

“In the car,” he curses, but before you can tell him that you can try without one since you are on the pill, he speaks again. “Wait!”

You giggle as you watch him run out of the office with his ass wiggling. No way he goes to his car naked, right?

You jump on top of his desk, pushing a few docs on the floor with your knee. It’s quite difficult because your hands are tied, but you don’t mind. You wait excitedly for his return just to tease him, but you’re speechless as soon as you see him unwrapping the condom package with his teeth before he quickly rolls it on.

“Won’t the neighbor mind?”

“What he doesn’t know,” he grabs your legs as he speaks. “Won’t hurt him. You’re not gonna run your mouth now, are you?” There is something about his patronizing tone that makes you hornier. Maybe because you know you’ve been on his mind so much he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Why? You want to keep my mouth occupied with your cock?”

You don’t expect to be turned around on the table instead, with your ass in the air. Holy fuck!

“How about I keep this pretty wet pussy of yours occupied, hmm?”

You close your eyes when you feel his cock at your entrance before he finally pushes in.

He’s crazy, he must be crazy if he thinks you can take all of his cock like this.

“B-Bucky!” You arch your back without realizing, fighting against the material of his tie so you can get free. The impulse to touch his back is absolutely overwhelming, and the coldness of his left hand drives you crazy.

“What happened?” His other hand goes up until it’s in your hair. “You got nothing else to say? Are you already cock drunk?”

“More!” you whimper. “I can take more of you, please.”

“Ah? So greedy for my cock.”

“Need it deeper, James. Need you to move faster.”

You don’t care how desperate your voice is or if you’re pathetic. “I just wanna be stretched open until I cry. P-please.”

You don’t realize he is holding his breath until you hear him exhaling loudly against your back before kissing the same spot.

“You wanna be fucked like you’re my good little toy, baby? You want-”

He stops speaking when you moan, trying to move your hands so you can touch him and push him deeper inside you by grabbing his ass.

That hot ass…

“Want you, sir. Please, make me a mess.”

And he does. He fucks you harder, making your eyes roll back, and you can’t help but try again to touch him.

“Just like that,” you cry out when your face hits the desk more forcefully than before. You can sense Bucky’s hesitation so you shake your head. “I’m fine, I’m... k-keep going.”

He doesn’t stop, he even goes faster yet somehow deeper than before, a combination you’re not used to, that makes you feel like he’s splitting you in half. Neither of you can properly talk anymore. You can hear him cursing and saying your name along with: your pussy’s drowning me, so wet, think you can t-take it harder, but there is a long break after every word so he can thrust back inside you. You can’t even call him James, your voice is so hoarse, and he’s so deep you cannot even breathe.

You don’t need anything more the second he pulls your hair harder than you’d ever expect. Before you know what’s happening, the pleasure explodes inside you, making you scream. You don’t even realize that’s your voice at first, too focused on trying to prolong this feeling as you push your ass back frustrated you cannot grab his thighs, while he keeps thrusting inside you. His balls hit your clit, and you moan, a little sensitive.

“Sir, please, c-come,” you whisper, turning your head to the side on the desk. “Come for your little fuck toy. U-use me.”

You flinch, shocked, when you feel a light slap on your ass all of a sudden, but it doesn’t hurt at all. Quite the opposite. You don’t have time to say something about it, though, because Bucky’s already burying himself inside you again as deep as he can, and you moan at the same time he does.

“J-James...”

He pulls your hair even harder while he comes, groaning your name and a low fuck, that almost makes you giggle.

“Jesus...” It’s the only warning you get before you feel his chest on your back.

“Barnes, you’re heavy!”

His laugh is adorable, but he’s indeed heavy, plus you also have your hands tied. When he finally moves, you hop off the desk, almost falling since your knees are weak. Now you can feel your thighs aching too. But it was all worth it.

Quickly, Bucky unties you, without saying a word, which only makes you more nervous.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you turn around to face him. Then, you watch him take off the condom and place it on top of one of the papers you knocked over with your knee earlier.

After wiping his hands on his thighs, he grabs your wrists gently, making you almost moan at the feel of his cold hand. You’re not hurt, but they’re quite red, probably from the times you tried to get free.

“Gonna buy some cream.”

You shake your head. “No need, I am sure I have something for this.” You try to sound as casual as you can, not wanting to be clingy in his eyes even after you quit. Even after this. “Can you hand me my underwear and pants, please?”

Bucky freezes for a second, but he still gives them to you. “Are you back to hating me?”

“What?” You ask as you start to get dressed. You don’t have the blouse, but your coat is warm. You won’t freeze.

“Why are you so cold now? Did I hurt you? Did I do anything wrong?” His concerned voice and look surprise you. You know he is nice, but you didn’t expect him to be attentive after.

“No, you didn’t. I assumed this is,” you wave around when you finish zipping up your pants. “Just wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”

He doesn’t laugh.

“I told you, you’ve been on my mind for so long. Why would I... and even if it was just a one-time thing, why would I treat you like trash? Especially since we work together.”

“Worked,” you correct him before he hands you his shirt. You raise your eyebrow surprised.

“I’m not gonna help you get dressed, Barnes. You’re a big boy.”

“Put it on, it’s freezing.”

“I have my coat,” you protest, but he won’t take no for an answer, and you know it.

“On.”

“Fine!”

He helps you with it since your hands are, for some reason, still shaking. “Look, I was gonna invite you over to my place, but if I make you feel uncomfortable, or if you don’t want to see me...”

You can’t help but raise your eyebrows.

“Really?”

“We have some things to discuss, and I have a bath to run for you.”

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to smile as he finishes buttoning the shirt. “You want me to sign a contract to fuck you again?”

“Ha, ha. No.” He leans in a bit to kiss your forehead. “We have many things to talk about that don’t involve a contract.”

“Yeah? Like what?” You start to collect the documents from the floor. “The process of writing my resignation letter?”

You hear Bucky puff behind you. “You’re not quitting.”

“No?” You bite your lip as you look at him. “Who’s gonna stop me?”

“Me.”

“Hmm,” you whisper playfully before placing his papers on the desk. “How?”

“Let’s get home and we’ll see about that.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #boss!bucky barnes #boss!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes #ceo!bucky #rich!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader smut #sebastian stan #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

wanders-in-wonderland · 5 months

Text

Treatment Plan

Last night was supposed to be harmless New Year’s Eve fun, partying with friends, dancing with strangers, and maybe finding someone to ring in the new year with. I remember dancing and taking shots with a really hot guy at some club where we'd shared a new year kiss. There's nothing else in my memory and I don’t remember when I passed out but I wake up alone in a medical examination room, naked, gagged, and strapped down to a bed with my arms above my head and legs spread wide.

The door opens and four men walk in. The first one I recognize is the hot guy I'd made out with. Except now, he has the look of a doctor, dressed in a white coat, wearing a stethoscope and holding a clipboard. The other three men are wearing nurses scrubs and not a single one acknowledges me as they step into the room and close the door behind them.

The doctor glances down at his clipboard and looks at me, smirking slightly. “It says here you’ve been admitted due to your issues with obedience and self-control. I promise we deliver the best results here, so you, darling, will be in tip-top shape in no time,” his voice is tinged with mockery and I try to shake my head and explain that this is all a mistake, that I have no idea what is going on, and I’m not supposed to be here.

“Day one of this treatment regimen helps us establish a baseline of what we’re working with and involves some sensory deprivation just to enhance the effectiveness but I promise, you’ll enjoy it,” he purrs, coming to stand next to my head before sliding a piece of fabric over my eyes. I struggle uselessly against the bindings, trying to dislodge the blindfold but it’s too secure to move. I feel hands hold my head in place before someone else slides headphones over my ears and suddenly, I’m blind and deaf to the world.

There is nothing to prepare me for what comes next, and no way that I can have any ability to sense what they plan to do to me. I can feel tears pricking at my eyes, absorbing into the blindfold when suddenly, I feel fingers trail along my ribs.

I let out a muted whimper, my body instinctively lurching in response. The feeling is so overwhelming and I’m absolutely senseless and helpless. The fingers linger around my hips and dig in gently, making me jerk uselessly in my bindings. It’s almost too much for my body to handle, the unknown touches, the horrible anticipation and suspense of not knowing anything at all.

Without warning, the fingers dig harder into my ribs, tickling me harshly and mercilessly. I wail behind the gag and thrash desperately, begging for it to stop to no avail. The fingers don’t let up and my entire world has narrowed to the unbearable sensations those fingers are drawing out of my bound body. There’s nothing I can do except endure it.

My wails have died down to little mindless whimpers as the tickling continues to ravage my ribs and hips when I feel the fingers pull away finally. I gasp for air, hoping that this torture is finally going to be over. Suddenly, I feel fingers brush against my underarms and I scream so hard my throat feels raw. I’m yanking and pulling at the straps holding me down but I’m bound too tightly. Tears are flowing freely into the blindfold as my body jerks. The fingers dig devastatingly into my underarms and I’m inconsolable. The tickling feels like electricity going straight into my nerves and it makes my mind hazy.

There’s no mercy and no stopping. The fingers find every vulnerable spot on my body and there’s nothing to stop the wretched tickling that’s making me want to curl into myself and disappear. There’s no acclimation to the feeling or becoming desensitized to it all. Every single movement feels like my body is dancing on a live wire and I have no choice but to experience every devastating feeling.

Another set of fingers finds their way to my hard nipples and I can barely draw in enough air to scream as the stimulation adds to the overwhelming feelings crashing through my body. Flicks against my nipples make me squirm and moan.

Then, my world lights up behind my blindfold when I feel fingers on my clit.

The combination of tickling at every sensitive spot on my body and the focus on my clit shatters me. Every single nerve is pulled open and vulnerable to unforgiving, relentless stimulation and I know I’m dripping wet onto the bed under me. It’s all too much for my brain to process. Every force on my body pushes me closer and closer to an orgasm and it’s unbearable.

A sudden flash of pain hits my clit as someone’s fingers sharply pinch my throbbing button and I wail as my orgasm barrels through my body. None of the stimulation lets up and the fingers on my clit continue to force waves of pleasure through my body while fingers everywhere else drive my orgasm even higher. I’m delirious and barely coherent between all of the different assaults of stimulation that wrack my body.

I feel the fingers on my clit pull away and I’m gasping and shaking. The tickling at my ribs and underarms doesn’t relent and I can barely catch my breath enough to sustain my sobs. Fingers brush against my inner thighs and I can’t help but whine, hearing only my wild heartbeat thudding in my ears.

Suddenly, there’s a vibrator slammed against my clit and my mind breaks. There are too many things going on but my whole being is driven to focus on the horrible vibrator pillaging my clit with no mercy. My next orgasm shoots through me with no warning, no build up, no gentle waves of pleasure. Just pure ecstasy shooting deep through my body, so hard that I can feel it in my bones and it renders me completely broken.

I have no concept of time or place as the torture continues. My body moves on its own accord as it struggles and trembles, futilely trying to avoid every touch. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours when everything finally fades away and all of the hands touching me are gone. I lie there, limp, unmoving, unthinking, barely conscious. It takes me an immeasurable amount of time to catch my breath, my body still feeling phantom aftershocks of pleasure and torment. I vaguely register the feeling of someone pulling the headphones off of my head and I’m able to hear again.

“Oh darling,” his voice is the first thing I recognize, “I suppose I forgot to mention, this treatment regimen has ten levels. And we can’t move on from level one until you learn to control your body and keep still during your treatments. Clearly we’re not going to get there today, but perhaps you’ll do better tomorrow. Otherwise, you’re in for a very long stay here…”

#nsft concept #overstim kink #cl1t torture #cnc overstim #dark fantasy #mind break #rap3 fantasy #tickle content #medfet #restrained

2K notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 2 months

Text

was i such a fool? | mark webber

part 1 part 3

ENGLAND

You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know who was the person who spread the confirmed rumor around the paddock, but you knew that being in the paddock was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your daughter, Grace, had been reading in her room while you were in your home office replying to some emails. Zak had let you get some time off, which you were hesitant to take at first but you knew how chaotic it was going to get in the paddock if you were present.

“Mommy!” Grace called for you from her room.

“What is it, my love?” You asked, closing your laptop as you stood up and walked to her room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, i finished my book. Can we go to the bookstore and get more?” Grace asked.

“Of course we can, baby.” You replied. As you were about to leave to go back to your office, Grace spoke once again.

“Can I go to a race?”

Grace had never attended a race before. She knew what your job was and why it required you to travel so much, but she never once attended a race. It surprised you that she even thought about it.

“A race . . .” You sighed. “You really want to go to a race?”

Grace nodded. “I want to see the fast cars.”

You thought about it for a second. It would be nice for Grace to see a race after years of only seeing it on tv. But then again only several people knew that she existed and you liked it that way.

“I’ll think about it.”

TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2023

MCLAREN GARAGE

Grace watched as several men dressed in orange with helmets on sat in their chairs. She was introduced to the pit crew by you. Everyone on the team was more than happy to meet her. She was extremely excited to be able to watch her first race in person.

“I’ll be over there watching the race, okay? Stay here with Lucy.” You told Grace. Lucy was an old friend from school. When you explained that Grace wanted to attend a race, she offered to look after the girl while you worked.

“Okay. I love you.” Grace gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more, my love.” You replied and hugged her before you left.

From a distance, Mark watched the girl wave goodbye to you. It made him feel like the worst person ever. How could he do that to you? You never deserved it. You were always so supportive of him, comforting him when he needed it and that all changed the second Mark kissed someone else.

He thought about going up to Grace and making small talk, but he knew you wouldn’t like it. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to upset you even more. Seeing her, so close yet so far away, brought sadness to the older man’s heart. She had his eyes, his smile, they even shared the same laughter, something you loved when you were dating Mark.

By the end of the race, he had decided to talk to you.

He tried to find you, but it seemed like you knew he wanted to talk so you hid from him. Only it wasn’t like that. Grace wanted to walk on the track so you took her. Lucy was tired so you told her that you would meet her back at the hotel. She held your hand as you and her walked around. It was a perfect moment for you and your daughter.

“Did you enjoy your first race?” You asked.

“Yes! The cars go faster than on the tv, it was so cool!” Grace exclaimed. “Can I go to another race?”

“You’ll have to wait until next year, my love, and you have school. I don’t want you missing a day of school because of a race.” You explained.

“Okay. . .” She sighed. “Who was the man that was in the garage?” She suddenly asked.

“There’s a lot of men in there, Grace.”

“He didn’t wear orange like the rest of the team. He had one of these too.” Grace pointed to her paddock pass. “I think Lucy said he used to be a driver.”

You had an idea of who Grace was talking about and you didn’t like it.

When you made it back to the Mclaren garage, you saw that it was almost empty. A few members of the pit crew were cleaning up, but that didn’t catch your attention. It was Mark that was pacing around the garage.

“Mommy, that’s the man I was talking about.” Grace whispered to you.

Mark noticed your presence and stopped pacing. “Hi.” Was all that he said.

“It’s getting late, Mark. You should go back to your hotel room, get some sleep. I know you don’t like early morning flights.” You said to the Australian.

“Hear me out, please. Just this once and I’ll leave you alone. Give me five minutes.” He pleaded. The remaining pit crew took that as a sign to give you privacy so they left.

Grace held onto your hand even tighter. “Who’s that?” She whispered again to you.

“His name is Mark.” You said.

Four words was all it took to break Mark Webber even more. He was just Mark to his daughter and he had to accept that.

“Three minutes and that’s it.” You said.

“I’ll take that.”

@glow-ish @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @viennakarma @pear-1206 @nathalielovesonedirection @jaydaaasworld @shimmermotorsport @honethatty12 @a-beaverhausen

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber one shot #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mclaren team principal!reader

1K notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 7 days

Text

🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?”

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder.

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page.

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder.

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside.

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept.

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time.

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his.

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.”

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk.

“Only because you know you're wrong.”

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity.

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.”

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock?

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day.

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed.

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual.

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth.

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here.

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent.

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment.

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke.

“Yes?”

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.”

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly.

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more.

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.”

“Where are your manners?”

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.”

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do.

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again.

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well.

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear.

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.”

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you.

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture.

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered.

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour.

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it.

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.”

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.”

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play.

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open.

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you?

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately.

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened.

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second.

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping.

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.”

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same.

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.”

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video.

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could.

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all.

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either.

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case.

“Spencer, wh-”

“Watch and see, princess.”

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you.

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there.

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge.

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders.

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app.

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again.

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.”

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion.

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want.

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing.

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers.

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down.

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg.

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds challenge #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds writing challenge

1K notes · View notes

ja3yun · 2 months

Text

Red Ocean | P.JS

vampire!jay x succubus!femreader warnings: smut (mdni), rough, unprotected sex, power dynamics, blood and biting (a lot of it), dirty talk, spanking, oral (m.rec), throat fucking, swallowing, mentions of manipulation and control (but all consensual!), not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 8.5k synopsis: with jongseong starving for his next feed as a self proclaimed veggie, his friend suggests visiting red ocean to quench his thirst, but when he gets there, there's something off about the place. a/n: hi! so listen, this is completely new territory for me bc i write cute lovey dovey scenes and this is pure FILTH. this was originally going to be a thank you for 1.5k (which thank you btw!) but i think i want to write something else for that since this kind of fic doesn't suit some people's taste, so please enjoy it as just a lil something. there is a lot of blood and vampire stuff so like, if you don't enjoy that, feel free to scroll!

Slumping onto the couch beside his buddy Jake, Jongseong looks like he's been through the wringer. His eyes are droopy, his head's pounding, and he's got this desperate hunger gnawing at him. "I'm fucking starving," he groans, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to block out the craving for blood that's been driving him nuts.

It has been 4 weeks since he has had a decent meal and he is starting to lose the strength in his body, his powers growing weaker by the second. It’s gotten so bad that he almost mauled the girl next to him in the lift on the way up to his best friend, Jake’s apartment, thinking about how good it would be to pierce her neck and taste her blood on his tongue, drinking her until he’s stuffed.

But it goes against Jongseong’s number one rule: never feed from a human.

Jongseong has lived his life for 148 years and lived 127 years of it as a vampire. He has been a self-proclaimed vegetarian for over 60 years, vowing that now he can control his thirst around humans, he will never feed from anyone ever again. It was a personal choice, one that is lost on his friends because, to them, one of the greatest pleasures in this shitty never-ending life is to feast on fresh human blood.

It’s not that he didn’t love the taste of human blood, in fact, he often finds dinner within the confines of a type O blood bag that Jake kindly provides him when on shift. His friend works as a delivery man, transporting goods from one hospital to another, and sometimes while he has to use the ‘bathroom’ he sniffs out what he calls the Treasure Room; a room filled with red gold. Stealing the blood is easy, it’s understanding why Jongseong won’t just suck on a pure nape that is the hard part.

“There are some bags in the fridge,” Jake points over to his white, shabby refrigerator where he keeps some spare bags of sweet crimson for himself, “I can’t keep doing this, Jongseong. The hospitals are starting to notice and it’s hard enough to feed me never mind you,” he exhales heavily, trying to relay to Jongseong the burden he carries.

Jongseong sighs, fighting to find the energy to drag himself to the fridge, “I’m sorry, the closest woods is 5 hours away and wildlife doesn't exactly run rampant around these parts,” he retorts, hoping his friend will understand his struggle.

The bags are nice, but they’re cold and stale, he wants something warm and substantial, something only living beings can provide. Unfortunately for him, deer and foxes have been scarce in recent weeks.

Nodding, Jake pulls himself off the couch to grab him and his friend a bag. Jongseong watches Jake take the blood bags from the refrigerator, his stomach twisting with relief and remorse. He despises having to rely on Jake for meals, knowing the toll it puts on his friend.

Jake hands him one of the bags before sitting beside him once again, concern etched on his face, “You could start feeding from humans again,” he suggests, knowing that it’s sort of a lost cause. Jongseong has been a veggie for so long that he knows the idea is ludicrous to him, but it seems like his only option now.

“Not a chance in hell,” Jongseong argues back, piercing his fangs into the blood bag and sucking some out of it, his eyes lighting up as he tastes the sweetness. Despite his love for human blood, he stands by his morals, “I’m not that person, I’m not like those mosquitoes from the Tracks.”

The Tracks are notorious for hosting some of the most bloodthirsty vampires to roam Seoul. They’re lethal and dangerous; in Jongseong’s eyes, they might as well be parasites. He knows it’s wrong to cast judgment on a whole group of people based on a few individuals, but these creatures aren’t like Jake and Jongseong; they’re predatory and conniving, doing whatever it takes to get humans to surrender to them, even if that means abusing their power.

Jongseong vowed to never do such a thing, to keep humans safe. After all, he was laid victim to the hands of a vampire all those years ago, why would he now wish to cause the same harm to an innocent being?

Jake sits up straight, his thinking cap secured firmly on his head, “What if they consented? Like how Bona has consented to me?” he offers as a solution.

Bona is Jake’s long-term human blood bag turned girlfriend, she allows Jake to take what he needs from her, trusting him to never harm her. It works tremendously well, however, as much as she is there to provide herself to her man, Jake doesn’t like to abuse the offering, hence the use of blood bags for himself.

Jongseong scoffed, recognising the uniqueness of Jake's situation, "It’s alright for you to say, your girlfriend is the most chilled person I know. Could you imagine if I just walked up to someone and was like ‘Hey, can I suck on one of your main arteries for a couple of minutes?’ I’m sure that’ll go down well,” he remarked sarcastically, highlighting the absurdity of the notion.

Suddenly, Jake’s eyes light up as if he had come up with the solution to all of Jongseong’s problems, “What about Red Ocean?” he queries.

“The sex club? I’m hungry, not horny, Jake,” Jongseong says back.

Red Ocean is a famous strip joint in the middle of town that also provides bonus services to those who throw enough money around. It’s not the worst place in the world but it is certainly not what he is looking for.

“Well you’re single as well as hungry,” Jake starts, his face never diminishing his bright expression, “What if you could quench both thirsts at once?”

Jongseong had no problem getting laid, in fact, he was good as it gets for a superb fuck around these parts; it didn’t take long for him to lure women into his bed for a one night thing. But that didn’t mean he feasted on them, he was far too much a gentleman for that. The woman that he slept with signed up to get pounded into, not drained of their blood.

"What the fuck are you even suggesting? That I go feed off some poor girl just because she's a sex worker? It's a legitimate profession, you know," Jongseong argues vehemently, placing the now-empty blood bag on the coffee table before him.

Rolling his eyes, Jake lets out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, yeah, we all know you’re a feminist" he quips, brushing off Jongseong's defence, "But Red Ocean isn't just your run-of-the-mill sex club. My buddy Jungwon told me they've got a whole section specifically for vampires like us. Plenty of willing donors, no strings attached."

Jongseong runs a hand over his face, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in, "But why would anyone agree to that?" he wonders aloud, struggling to comprehend the idea of people willingly offering themselves up as disposable blood bank for a paycheck.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Jake takes a sip from his own blood bag, "Different strokes for different folks, I guess," he offers with a shrug as if that explains everything, "I'll have Wonnie send over the details."

Despite his reservations, Jongseong knows that his hunger won't be satisfied for long with just blood bags. Reluctantly, he nods, conceding to Jake's suggestion. Perhaps Red Ocean holds the key to quelling his insatiable cravings without compromising his morals. Only time will tell.

_____

Standing outside the red-lit nightclub, Jongseong hypes himself up to enter, his comfort zone being pushed to its brink. He is a homebody who enjoys binging TV shows and playing his guitar, so this venture is foreign to him.

His nervousness is heightened by the fact that he is here alone. Jake, being the devoted lover he is, would never risk an argument with Bona over a place like this. And Jongseong's other dependable friend, Heeseung, is preoccupied with a work assignment, leaving him to traverse this foreign environment on his own.

Despite his concerns, Jongseong knows he can't back out now, the hunger that lies in the pit of his stomach is only getting worse. With a final steeling of his will, he pushes open the club's entrance and enters the throbbing, crimson-hue interior, prepared to face whatever awaits him within.

The place really lives up to its name Red Ocean because all he can see in front of him is red; red lighting and neon signs, the workers are all laced with some form of red attire, and there is an ocean of people. Jongseong looks like a deer in the headlights as he walks up to the reception desk.

His gaze is immediately drawn to a sultry figure standing near the entrance. She's the epitome of allure, with long, flowing hair cascading over her shoulders and a figure that curves in all the right places. Her eyes, smouldering with an enticing gaze, seem to beckon him forward.

She stands behind a large desk area, her presence commanding attention as she takes in the arrivals with a knowing smile. Dressed in a form-fitting dress that accentuates her ample curves, she exudes an air of confidence and sensuality that leaves Jongseong momentarily breathless.

As Jongseong approaches, he can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks under her gaze. Her lips curve into a seductive smile as she extends a manicured hand towards him, her voice smooth as velvet as she speaks.

"Welcome to Red Ocean," she purrs, her voice laced with a hint of mischief, “How can we fulfil your desires tonight?” Her question hangs in the air as Jongseong is entranced by her.

He can’t put his finger on it, but suddenly he’s more tired than before, his body almost as if it’s being led on its own, like he’s having a strange out-of-body experience. Perhaps it’s the heat mixed in with the smoke, or maybe it’s something more.

Clearing his throat nervously, Jongseong tries to regain his composure as he addresses the hostess. "Um, yeah, I was told there's a private area?" he asks, hoping she'll understand his subtle hint.

With a dark smile, the hostess nods, her gaze lingering on him with a knowing glint. "Absolutely, sir. For £700, you can enjoy the company of one of our talented performers in a private setting, with a complimentary bottle of champagne," she explains smoothly, her fingers dancing across the screen of her iPad.

Jongseong defiantly shakes his head, “No, no, none of that,” he notices how her smile drops as if he has offended her, “No! I just don’t…I don’t need that kind of service,” he says softly. This is going a lot more awkwardly than he had planned. The last thing he needs to do is offend her, this could be his only chance at a proper meal for weeks.

There’s also a nagging voice in the back of his mind that’s telling him to be careful. Telling this woman outright that he is a vampire could end disastrously, hunters lurk in every corner of the city, waiting for their moment to capture vampires exactly like him. It’s not easy to tell who is a hunter and who isn’t, so for all he knows, this club could be collecting vampires and luring them in with possibilities of feeding when in actual fact, they will tear them limb from limb and burn them out back.

He has to tread carefully here.

The atmosphere is heavy around him as he tries to regain control of the situation, but with his energy low, it’s proving difficult, “Do you provide…special services?” he asks, puffing out his chest a little to feign confidence.

Jongseong isn’t a timid person, he’s always been known for being strong and confident but for some reason, he’s regressed back to his little awkward, virgin self. This place is throwing his entire aura off and messing with his head. Maybe it’s just the hunger that sits within him.

The hostess eyes him sceptically, her gaze lingering on him in a way that sets his nerves on edge. "We offer a variety of unique services, tailored to each individual's preferences," she replies, her voice dipping seductively as she sizes him up. "So, sir, how can I ensure you have the best experience possible?"

Jongseong shifts uncomfortably under the weight of the hostess's scrutiny, his mind racing with uncertainty. He hadn't expected this encounter to be so challenging. Every instinct tells him to tread cautiously, to protect himself from potential danger while still satisfying his hunger.

"I... I'm looking for something," Jongseong finally manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something... off the menu, so to speak."

The hostess raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable as she considers his request but she doesn’t budge, in fact, she crosses her arms, clearly having enough of this encrypted conversation. Jongseong needs to be straightforward if he wants to leave here fully satisfied.

The password.

How could he forget that Jake had texted him a password? Once Jake had asked his friend Jungwon for more details, he said the only way to get into the back area with the other vampires was with a password. Jongseong’s brain has been so clouded since he walked in here that he completely forgot the one important detail.

"Dracaena Trifasciata," he manages to utter, though his pronunciation leaves much to be desired. Still, the hostess's reaction tells him he got the message across, her bored expression transforming into a sly smirk.

As Jongseong watches, spellbound, the hostess's transformation leaves him momentarily breathless. Her once closed-off demeanour now radiates warmth and familiarity, as if she's greeting an old friend rather than a stranger.

"My little crimson crusader," she purrs, her voice sending a shiver down Jongseong's spine. "Why didn't you just say so?"

Her words are like a siren's call, drawing Jongseong closer until he stands before her, unable to resist her magnetic presence. As she reaches across the desk, her hands beckoning him nearer, Jongseong obeys without hesitation, his curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation.

With deft fingers, she undoes the first few buttons of his crisp white shirt, her touch sending sparks of electricity dancing across his skin. He feels a flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach as her hands glide over his chest, exploring with an intimacy that leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable.

She tilts her head, her gaze locking with his in a silent exchange of understanding. Jongseong can't tear his eyes away from hers, captivated by the depths of emotion swirling within them.

Despite the warmth of her touch, Jongseong can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at the edges of his consciousness. There's something about her that feels off, something that sets his instincts on edge. She isn’t a vampire, the heat of her touch is enough to clarify, but she is certainly no human.

But as he stands there, caught in her gaze, he finds himself unable to pull away. Whatever she is, whatever secrets she holds, Jongseong knows one thing for certain: he's in deeper than he ever imagined, and there's no turning back now.

As she pulls away, a sense of relief washes over him, though he can still feel the lingering intensity of the hostess's gaze. Standing upright behind her desk once more, she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, "You're a lot younger than those we see around these parts. You can't be any more than 160," she muses, her perceptive gaze honing in on Jongseong's youthful aura.

"I'm 148," Jongseong admits quietly, a hint of embarrassment colouring his tone. He's never given much thought to his age, existing as a perpetual 21-year-old who happened to live through 3 plagues and 2 world wars.

Pouting playfully, the hostess holds a hand over her heart in mock sympathy, "Aw, you're just a baby," she coos, her tone patronising. The remark sends a surge of irritation coursing through Jongseong, his shoulders tensing and his jaw clenching involuntarily.

He suppresses the urge to retort, reminding himself to tread carefully in this unfamiliar territory. Despite the hostess's seemingly jovial demeanour, there's an underlying edge to her words that sets him on edge.

Circling the desk, the hostess stands in front of the young vampire, her body dangerously close to his as she leans up and presses her lips to his ear, “Follow me, I’ll lead you to everything you’re starving for,” she whispers. Jongseong feels a shiver run down his spine as the hostess's warm breath caresses his ear, her words sending a jolt of anticipation through him. Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of his mind, he finds himself unable to resist the allure of her invitation.

_____

As Jongseong weaves through the crowded club, his senses are assaulted by the mingling scents of sweat, alcohol, and, most tantalizingly, human blood. Each passerby sends a wave of hunger coursing through him, his fangs threatening to descend at any moment. But he clenches his jaw, reminding himself of his resolve to abstain from feeding on humans. Yet, isn’t that what he’s on his way to do?

Beside him, the hostess effortlessly navigates the throng of clubgoers, her presence commanding attention wherever she goes. She greets familiar faces with a knowing smile, exchanging pleasantries with ease. Jongseong can't help but marvel at her confidence and poise, even as his own nerves threaten to betray him.

Eventually, they reach a door marked "Staff," but as the hostess swings it open, Jongseong is met with an unexpected sight - a long, dimly lit brick corridor stretching out before him. The hostess glances back at him, urging him to follow with a subtle gesture.

With a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, Jongseong steps through the doorway, the weight of uncertainty heavy on his shoulders. He can't shake the feeling that he's venturing into uncharted territory, but with the promise of satisfying his hunger looming before him, he presses on.

As they reach the end of the corridor, Jongseong's heart quickens with anticipation, his senses heightened as they stand before the heavy, rusty door, “It’s just through here…” she trails off, silently asking for his name.

“Jongseong,” he replies, bowing his head in politeness.

"Jessica," she offers in return, a slight grin playing on the corners of her mouth. Her simple gesture of introducing herself somehow eased the tension that had been coiling in his chest.

Jessica pushes open the door, revealing what can only be described as another reality. As Jongseong crosses the threshold, he feels as if he has been transported to a place beyond his imagination. The space before him is bathed in a delicate, ethereal glow, and the air vibrates with a palpable energy that awakens his senses. Peculiar symbols decorate the walls, their significance unknown to Jongseong but imbuing the place with an aura of ancient mysticism.

Jongseong's eyes widen in astonishment as he takes in the scene before him. The space beyond the heavy door is bustling with activity, filled with vampires from every generation lounging on plush couches and perched on bar stools. Gone is the facade of the club he had entered earlier; this is the true heart of Red Ocean.

The lavish area makes Jongseong question everything he has ever known. How many places are there like this? He hadn’t heard about this secret club until only a few days ago, so how long has it been here?

More importantly, “Uh, how much is this service?” he asks timidly as his eyes still scouting around the area where vampires are chatting away as if they aren’t deadly creatures of the night.

“Oh baby boy, don’t worry about that,” she smirks, turning to face him. It’s an ominous response, one that doesn’t fill him with much confidence, but he’s so hungry and weak that he can’t afford to pass up this opportunity due to mere scepticism. As long as it doesn’t break the bank, he’s willing to pay whatever he needs to quench this thirst.

The air in this new section of the club only serves to make him feel weaker like it’s sucking the breath from his lungs.

As Jessica looks around the room, his eyes follow, leading him to see a beautiful girl leaning against the bar, nursing her drink. The hostess’ face beams as she ushers the mystery girl over, much to Jongseong’s delight.

He might only be here to feed but who says he can’t indulge in these needs with someone beautiful like her?

“Y/N! Over here,” Jessica shouts, gesturing her friend forward.

As you hear Jessica's call, you set your drink down, licking the remnants of the sweet beverage from your lips. It’s been a slow night for you, your usual boy cancelling last minute, leaving you in desperate need of someone new, someone to play with.

Snaking your way towards the awkward boy, you make sure your movements are purposeful, each sway of the hip intentional as you lure him into your vice. He’s a pretty little thing, much prettier than half of the men here, so you find yourself trying to grip him with your movements, beckoning him closer with every step.

As you approach him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through you. There's something about him that sets him apart from the others in the room, something that makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

This is going to be a fun night.

"You are just the girl I need to treat my little sucky cup here well," Jessica states with a teasing grin, tracing her hand down Jongseong's arm, causing him to swallow deeply, "Could you take him off my hands?"

As you get closer, a rush of exhilaration runs through you. Jongseong's lingering gaze on you, hunger and desire in his eyes, just adds gasoline to the fire that is blazing within you.

Stepping closer, you rub his chest, much like the hostess had done but your touch is a lot more enticing, the way your fingertips linger on his skin a little too long causes his dick to twitch and his knees to crumble, as if he wanted to bow down and worship the ground you walked on.

Your leg slips between his, your knee rubbing against his inner thigh, close enough that he can feel it near his cock but far away enough to have him whining for more contact, "What's your name, baby?" you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction as you look up at him through hooded eyes. You can see the desire burning in his gaze, the hunger for something more, and you're more than willing to give him what he craves, even if he doesn’t quite know what that is yet.

Jongseong's chest tightens at your touch, and his senses are overwhelmed by the magnetism you exude. With each passing second, he becomes fascinated by your presence, unable to resist the pull of attraction that draws him closer to you.

"Jongseong...Jay....Jongseong," he replies, his voice a frantic whisper. Your proximity, mixed with the gentle motions of your body against his, causes him to feel dizzy with need.

You stifle a laugh as your nails dig into his chest, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Jongseong. "Jongseong Jay Jongseong, I’m Y/N," you purr, your voice dripping with seduction, "Would you like me to take you somewhere with a little more privacy?"

Your gaze meets his with an intensity that sends a shiver down his spine, your fingers digging into his flesh with a mixture of pleasure and pain. "Or would you like to have an audience?" you continue, your eyes wandering to the left.

Jongseong follows your gaze, his heart pounding in his chest as he takes in the scene before him. To the left, round couches are cluttered with vampires indulging in their primal desires, feeding from their claimed workers, fucking into them with velocity. Some couples are locked in passionate embraces, their bodies entwined in a frenzy of lust, while others simply watch on, their eyes gleaming with arousal.

One particular couple catches Jongseong's attention, the sight of blood dripping down the girl's body as she relishes the feeling of a vampire pounding into her from behind, their shared moans only silenced by the loud music that surrounds the club. He hates to admit it, but it makes Jongseong’s dick twitch.

Peeling his eyes away, he returns his gaze to you, “Private, please.”

You withdraw your body from him, leaving him aching for your touch. You held so much power over him despite being a supernatural creature, "A gentleman, huh?" you tease, your voice dripping with amusement. "Let's see how long that lasts." He can't help but feel a sense of longing as you tease him with your words, your playful demeanour only adding to the intensity of his need.

If he was starving before, he’s ravenous now.

You lightly intertwine your fingers with his as you pull him towards your private room, the knuckles of his hand brush along your ass as you stay a step in front of him. His eyes rake over the back of your body and take in the sight of you. You are perfect in every way, your body exactly his type, the lingerie set you have on is a beautiful white laced number that leaves nothing to the imagination.

Jongseong is too busy admiring the way your ass cheeks jiggle as you walk that he doesn’t even notice you opening the door and leading him in. Your presence is like a drug all on its own, like he needs to surrender himself to you to experience the full pleasure.

The moment Jongseong sets his eyes on the room and not your body, he's enveloped in a world of sensual decadence and luxury. The walls are draped in rich, red and gold fabrics, casting the space in a warm, inviting glow. Intricate patterns adorn the walls, adding a touch of opulence to the intimate setting.

In the centre of the room sits a large, lavish round bed, its sheets adorned with intricate designs that shimmer in the soft light. The bed beckons invitingly, promising hours of pleasure and indulgence for those who dare to partake.

To one side of the room, a collection of toys is splayed out in the corner, their presence adding a hint of playful excitement to the air. From silk restraints to feathered ticklers, the array of implements promises endless possibilities for exploration and delight.

But that’s not what he is here for, he is here for a quick feed to tide him over for the next few weeks until he can go out hunting again. This is transactional and absolutely nothing more.

Lighting a few candles on the mantlepiece, you hear him speak up behind you, “Uhm, you should know that I’m not here to have sex or anything, I just need to feed a little,” he confesses.

The room, though exquisitely decorated, suddenly feels charged with tension as Jongseong's words hang in the air. The candles flicker softly, casting dancing shadows across the red and gold decor as you turn to face him, your expression unreadable.

"Excuse me?" you respond, your voice laced with disbelief. For a moment, Jongseong can sense a flash of anger in your eyes, a flicker of indignation at his suggestion.

But before he can backtrack, Jongseong rushes to explain himself, his words tumbling out in a frantic rush. "I'll pay for the full service!" he blurts out, desperation evident in his voice. "But to be honest, I just need some blood, that's all."

You laugh, slowly sleeking your way back to him. If he was turned on by the view of you from the back, he was foaming at the mouth as he took in the sight of your breasts spilling slightly out of the white-laced cups.

“Jongseong, who told you about this place?” you ask, leading him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

“A friend of a friend,” he replies, trying not to touch your sides with his big hands despite the urge that flows through him.

To make matters harder for him, you straddle Jongseong's lap and a surge of arousal courses through him at the feeling of your barely covered pussy pressing against his covered cock. His breath catches in his throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, your proximity overwhelming his senses.

"And did this friend of a friend tell you about our services? What it entails?"

With a playful pout, you gaze into his eyes, your seductive gaze leaving him feeling helpless under your spell. His mind goes blank, his thoughts scattered as he struggles to gather his thoughts in the face of your overwhelming allure. All he can do is shake his head in response to your question, his lips parting slightly in silent anticipation.

Blinking slowly, you draw him in closer, your silent command irresistible as he leans towards you, drawn by an invisible force he can't resist. And as your lips hover mere inches apart, you whisper words that send a shiver down his spine.

"You feed from my blood," you murmur, your voice sending a thrill through him as you grind down onto him, eliciting a shallow moan that you swallow eagerly, "And I feed from your desire."

It’s like something finally clicks in his brain; the lack of energy, the pull you have on him, his hunger replaced with a burning desire, the password being a succulent snake plant. You were no human.

“You're a succubus,” he whispers, the words hanging in the air as confirmation of what he's known deep down all along.

Placing your hands on his cheeks, you hold him in place as you swipe your tongue along his lip, tasting him for the first time. He tastes like honey, the sweetest taste you won’t be able to get enough of.

Taking his hands that are clenched tightly by his sides, you open them up and place them on your breasts which he happily obliges, “We can be called many things, succubi, Lilith’s angels, demons, the list is endless.”

As Jongseong squeezes your tits, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you, the sensation heightened by the contrast between the supple softness of your skin and the rough texture of your lingerie. Despite his attempts to resist, he finds himself unable to break free from your hold, drawn deeper into the web of desire you've woven around him. Even if he wasn’t under your spell, he doesn’t really know if he would want to stop anyway.

"We can be called many things - succubi, Lilith's angels, demons," you murmur, your voice dripping with seduction as you revel in his touch. "The list is endless."

As you speak, Jongseong can feel the weight of centuries of history and lore pressing down on him, the knowledge that vampires and succubi have long been intertwined, using one another to get what they need. But while vampires may pose a threat to humans with their insatiable thirst for blood, succubi wield power far more dangerous, feeding off human desire and emotional vulnerability.

Thus, Archangel Michael made it his mission many years ago to rid God’s great earth of any incubi and succubi, summoning his choir to catch them and burn their souls. The purge started in the 1910s, causing most demons like you to go into hiding, to save yourself from obliteration.

It makes sense why Jongseong had never heard of this secret part of the club before, they had a lot to lose if news got out. For Michael’s choir, if they were to find out about this place, they would have a field day, picking apart each and every one of them.

You see his brain ticking and it makes you giggle, “We can help one another out, no?” you pose the question, knowing you can make him say whatever you need him to, to do whatever you please with him. Flicking your hair to the side, you expose your pure nape, “C’mon Jongseong, aren’t you starving?” you say seductively, your tone hushed as you emphasise the word starving.

Jongseong’s hand reaches up to touch your exposed neck to feel the blood pumping through your veins. He can hear it coursing along your neck, begging to be drunk by him. He licks his lips in longing, knowing that what he craves is just under your thin layer of skin.

As Jongseong's body reacts to your touch, his primal impulses take control, pushing him to the brink of want. His trousers tighten, a physical indication of his intense yearning. In his mind, he tells himself that you, your power, that is causing him to feel this way. But deep down, a nagging doubt persists: is it truly you, or are his own primitive urges driving him to the point of desperation?

Lost in the haze of lust, Jongseong finds himself unable to distinguish between reality and desire. The line between craving your blood and yearning to be buried deep inside your heat blurs, leaving him consumed by a frenzied need that threatens to overwhelm him.

His finger pricks your neck, drawing some blood as a taster out of the tiny wound. Involuntarily, his fangs protrude as he smells your sweet crimson blood, his mouth watering at the idea of devouring you right here, right now.

You know you’ve won, you’re going to get what you need and all at the expense of a tiny bit of blood, “That’s it, baby, give in to temptation,” you urge him, pulling his face closer to your neck. You can feel his breath ghosting over the wound and it makes your body press itself against him, seeking your own form of satisfaction.

Finally, he gives in, licking up the droplet of blood that seeps out of your neck before piercing you harshly. He savours the taste of your blood on his tongue, his senses ablaze with euphoria. Demon blood is intoxicating, having the same effect on vampires as alcohol does on humans, leaving vampires delirious with pleasure. He’s gentle compared to the older men you’ve had, meaning he has some form of restraint in him left.

Undoing his buttons, you slip off his shirt past his shoulders, hands roaming over his tanned skin as you crave to feel every inch of him. You tickle up his sides softly, causing his arms to instinctively pull you closer, pressing your tits against his bare chest as he revels in the sensation.

Retracting from your neck, his mouth stained with your blood, Jongseong's eyes meet yours with a newfound determination, "Stop controlling me," he demands, his voice laced with defiance as he challenges your hold over him.

But you shake your head, refusing to relinquish your grip, "Sorry, I can't do that," you reply, your tone unapologetic, "It's the only way I can get my end of the deal."

Jongseong bristles at your refusal, his determination only growing stronger, "Stop controlling me, and I'll fuck you properly," he challenges, his words a bold declaration of his intent.

Capturing your lips in his, he bites down on your bottom lip, sucking the sweet blood from it as he loses himself in the moment, bucking his hips up to rub his jeans against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

In that moment, Jongseong proves himself to be more than just another vampire under your control. With his youth and vigour, he possesses a raw intensity that sets him apart, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter than ever before.

Licking along his right fang to taste your own blood, you moan out, craving him more than anyone ever before, “Fine. But don’t disappoint me, baby. I would hate to use you like a puppet,” you whisper back, your tongue collecting more of your blood from his chin.

In a flash, Jongseong feels like he finally has his energy back, that weight of your control finally lifted, leaving him the opportunity to do whatever he wants with you. Although he knew the intensity of your manipulation, he hadn’t realised how freeing it was to be in control of his own body.

Quickly, he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed, his strength showing as you fly up to the middle of the large bed. His display of strength only fuels your desire for him further.

You pull him by his neck to hover over you, kissing him messily as you breathe in his need for you, “Tell me what gets you off,” you say quietly, a smirk playing on your lips as you lend your hand down to cup his cock through his jeans, “You want me to suck you off?”

Jongseong groans into the kiss, the idea of your pretty lips around his shaft only sending him further into a tizzy, “Fuck yes, Princess. You think you can handle it?” his grip lands on your throat, squeezing it tightly as he shuts off your airwaves for a millisecond, “You think your tiny little mouth and throat can take me all the way?”

He originally came in here for your blood, but now all he’s thinking about is how he needs you bent over every surface, in every position, and having you begging for him. Something is appealing to him to hold so much power over one of hell’s strongest demons. Especially in your own playground.

You haven’t seen his cock, but your mouth starts to water just at the thought of it. Honestly, you didn’t expect him to be so vocal and demanding considering when you saw him he looked like he turned into the wrong club.

Maybe he was full of surprises.

Pushing him off you with all your might, you take control once again, “Edge of the bed, baby,” you instruct, sticking by your promise to not manipulate him into doing what you want, however, if he proves to be difficult, you might need to take things into your own hands.

Luckily, he’s an obedient little bat, taking off his bottoms before sitting down, stroking his thick cock as he waits for you to get into position.

You give him a light kiss on his lips before trailing down his neck. Your actions leave your wounds seeping in front of him, inviting him to drink your blood once more. It stops you in your tracks but you don’t mind, the sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking over your wounds somehow made your pussy throb.

His fangs are anchored into you, stopping you from moving. He can’t get enough of you, your blood slowly turning into an addiction as he drains you, feeding himself full of you.

Reaching your hand down, you grab his cock and yank it, causing him to yelp and withdraw his mouth from you. Jongseong’s eyes are wide as if questioning your intentions but you only offer him a laugh as a response, kissing into his mouth as you stroke him slowly.

Your soft hands feel amazing on his member, the way you expertly tug and squeeze him in all the right ways, it’s sensational, but he needs more. One of his hands pulls your face, holding it tightly in place as he stares deep into your eyes, “Are you going to suck my cock like you promised? Or do I have to fuck your throat instead?”

If you weren’t already wet, you were now. It’s as if he knows exactly what to say to get your motor running like he somehow knows all your turn-ons. Placing one last kiss on his lips, you snake down to his hardened length, tip pink with arousal. It’s so inviting, practically begging to be sucked.

Swiftly, you take his head into your mouth, sucking eagerly as you look up at him, eyes glistening with want and need.

Jongseong moans out, the sight of you taking his cock in your pretty mouth while your blood is smudged all over your lips, it’s a sight he wants to etch into his brain forever. For all the years he’s been alive, this might be his favourite moment.

You love it too. As Jongseong's desire amplifies, you feel a surge of energy coursing through you, fueled by the intensity of his lust. It's a sensation unlike any other, the raw power of his desire feeding into your own, replenishing your energy with every breath he takes.

Taking him deeper into your mouth, you lay your tongue flat and bop your head up and down at a perfect pace. Jongseong grips your hair tight, creating knots in the strands as he pulls at your roots. The motion elicits a hum from your throat, sending a vibration through his cock straight to his tight balls.

“Fuck, Princess, you’re so fucking good at that,” he states the obvious, knowing that you do this often, but this was a new experience for him, not one person has ever come close to sucking cock as good as you do.

You smile as you look up at him, your cunt dripping from his praises. It means something more when the men you’re with are saying those sorts of things out of their own free will, not because you’re feeding those thoughts into their minds.

Jongseong can feel himself getting close, ready to cum down your throat and have you swallow it. He thrusts into your mouth, now taking charge as he pushes your head down and bucks up, the back of your throat not stuffed with his fat cock.

“I’m gonna cum, Y/N,” he warns before shooting his load down your throat, each spurt making you gag as you struggle to swallow it.

With his hand on your neck, Jongseong massages your throat, coaxing you to open wider and take in everything he has to offer. As he presses deeper into you, he can feel his length snugly nestled within your channel, the pressure from his hand adding to the pleasure coursing through him.

Finally, sensing your need for air, Jongseong pushes you off of him, allowing you to finally catch your breath. Despite not having even fucked you yet, you feel completely satiated, your body thrumming with the energy you've drawn from him.

You’re throat and face is red as you regulate your breaths, your voice hoarse as you begin to speak, “Did I meet your expectations?” you ask, biting your lip as you straddle him once more, his cock laying against your thigh.

Nodding, he pushes your hair back from your forehead, “You’re fucking unreal,” he whispers.

Laughing, you take hold of his spent cock, pumping him softly, “Can you fuck me, or is our session done?” you ask, hoping for a certain answer.

With his sensitive cock in your hand, he hisses, shutting his eyes as he revels in the sensation. He wants nothing more than to bend you over and fuck you senseless, but he needs to replenish the energy that he’s given away to you.

Jongseing takes your other hand, bringing your wrist to his lips. As he kisses your veins, his eyes remain locked onto yours, his teeth ready to sink in and take what he needs once again. Swiftly, he sinks his fangs in, causing you to tighten your grip on his dick, causing the vampire to moan out loudly.

You take it as a sign to keep going, stroking him until he is hard again.

The mixture of your hand working his oversensitive length and the blood he’s slurping out of you push his adrenaline to a new level, his energy replenished and his need to take you even more prominent than before.

Reluctantly, he removes himself from your wrist, kissing it softly before giving you it back, “I’m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to beg to be my personal blood bag,” he whispers, primal thirst for blood overtaking his body. But you don’t mind, truthfully, you like this side of him, it gets you off seeing him take control of you.

With a firm grip on your ass, Jongseong lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the centre of the bed and laying you down gently. Your heart pounds in anticipation as he moves your thong aside, exposing your glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

Desperate for release, you wrap your legs around his hips, grinding your folds against his throbbing cock in search of any form of relief. The friction sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that spreads up to your stomach.

Jongseong's desire burns hot as he positions himself between your legs, his eyes locking with yours as he prepares to claim you as his own. At that moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint - only the need to lose yourselves in the ecstasy of each other's embrace.

You arch your back, urging him to take you completely. The anticipation builds between you, each moment stretching out into eternity as you both crave the release that only each other can provide.

“Tell me you want it,” he demands, his mouth finding its way back to your neck. Mewling out, you try to push his cock inside of you but he holds steady, resisting your advances, “You were being so good earlier, what happened?” he tuts.

As hot as it is for him to be in charge, you can’t stand him getting too cocky, "I want you, but that's the difference, isn't it? I want you, but you need me," you tease, running your tongue across your bottom lip in defiance.

Jongseong clenches his jaw, and his eyes deepen with want. Despite his efforts to retain control, your words create a fire within him, creating a need that threatens to swallow him completely. But he pulls himself back, determined to show you that he is still in control.

With that, he thrusts into you with a force that leaves you gasping for breath, your walls clenching around him in response to the sudden intrusion. Each movement is calculated and deliberate as he sets a punishing pace that leaves you trembling with pleasure.

He takes you roughly, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out of your wet heat. A moan escapes your lips as you feel him stuff you to the brink, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. He’s holding no punches, making sure you know exactly who needs who.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake as you cling to him desperately, your body writhing beneath his with unbridled passion. Every touch, every kiss, sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you entirely.

“Jongseong!” you cry out as he drives into you harder, making sure you feel every inch of him, your walls being battered by the strength of his large dick. He’s incredible, top 5 best fucks you’ve ever had.

As Jongseong sits up, his hands pressing firmly against your back to arch you, you feel a surge of pleasure course through you as he drives himself even deeper inside you. His commanding presence leaves you breathless, lost in the intensity of the moment, “Tell me you need me,” he hisses out, spanking your ass as he thrusts faster, “Go on, beg for it.”

His demand sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but cry out in ecstasy. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your body trembling with anticipation as he takes you to new heights of pleasure.

With your resistance cracking beneath the force of his want, you find yourself entirely succumbing to him. Your raw, needy voice fills the room as you scream for more, your words a desperate plea for relief.

"I need you, Jongseong," you cry, your voice full of longing, "I need you to fill me up, to give me your cum." Despite the roughness of his previous ministrations when he was fucking your throat silly, you find your voice somehow, driven by an intense yearning that runs through you.

A triumphant grin spreads across his face as you give in. He drags you up by your hair and makes you sit on his cock as he piledrives into you harder, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot. Your neck is still pumping out blood but he knows he can do better than that; his teeth sink into you again, tearing the flesh as he rips into you, feeding from you like a man starved for centuries. The blood drips down onto your white lingerie, turning it pink.

In the throes of ecstasy, pure bliss envelops you both as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure, screaming out each other's names in a symphony of release.

"Jongseong!" you cry out, your walls clenching tightly around him as he spills his seed deep inside you. His movements slow but remain powerful, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your limbs go limp as you bask in the aftermath of your shared climax, your heat still clinging to him desperately, unwilling to let him go. Every inch of your being feels alive with pleasure as if you've been transported to another realm of existence.

Collapsing on top of you, Jongseong’s pants are short as he tries to catch his breath, his entire body exhausted. His tongue licks your wounds lazily, hoping it can heal you somewhat while also drinking every last drop of his dinner.

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” he whispers into your nape, “Are you okay? Was it too much?” he asks with genuine concern, warming your chest a little.

“I’m good, thanks, Jongseong,” your voice is hushed, the effort to speak proving too much.

He rolls off of you, examining your body to make sure there’s nothing bleeding out. You spot him doing this and laugh, “I’m fine, it takes a lot more to kill me than some vampire bites.”

It fills him with relief to know you’ll be okay. He hasn’t ever gone that far before, giving into his vampire urges so easily. He had lost complete control tonight, but as scary as that is, he wants to experience that again.

No deer or cow will ever compare to the sweet taste of you.

Almost like reading his mind, you lean against the headboard and speak up, “If you see Jess, she’ll be able to book you in for a next time.” Your eyes glimmer with mischief and also promise. You want to be devoured by him again by any means necessary.

Nodding, Jongseong begins to get dressed, using the wet cloths provided by the club to clean his face of any blood. It’s a shame that all that beautiful red nectar going to waste.

“What if I don’t come back?” he teases, a smirk gracing his beautiful face as he turns to you.

“You will, they always do.”

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #jay smut #jongseong smut #park jongseong smut #aj writes

1K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 5 months

Text

Monster fucking, tentacles, non-con/rape, mind break, unrealistic sex (womb fucking), breeding, oviposition.

Monster!König is a patient man. He'd wait a century for you if it's necessary, yet much to his excitement, it only took a year for you to trust him enough to get into the water with him.

He was barely able to contain his excitement, tentacles aching to touch you as he watched you slowly get into the water, weary eyes looking at him while he fought the urge to pull you inside.

''I don't bite, prinzessin.'' He lifts his hands as a display of submission, showing you he's not going to harm you— and truly, he's not planning to harm you. He knows you want this as much as he does, always noticing your eyes linger on his tentacles. Surely it wasn't because he's a freak and you were still weirded out by him, no, that couldn't be. You're absolutely in love with him, he's sure of it.

You swim slowly towards him, looking back at the shore and almost regretting your life decisions as soon as you notice his eyes narrow, not wanting you to leave.

''Come closer.'' He pleads, not able to hide the longing and whine in his tone, trying his best not to show how much his body is quivering with pure need for you. You sigh softly, hesitantly swimming closer and closer until you're right in front of him, moving your legs around the water to keep floating.

You never noticed the size of him until he fully stands up, his feet planted firmly on the ground while you crane your neck up to look up at him, mouth slightly ajar as the feeling of dread courses through your veins, fight or flight triggered when you see the predatory look in his eyes.

His instincts get triggered the moment you try to swim away, thick tentacles wrapping around your body and keeping you in place even when you scream and kick, unable to do anything else other than thrash in his hold.

As much as he loves it, your screaming is making his ears hurt. One of his tentacles sneaks up, tracing your soft body slowly before it's plunged into your mouth, successfully pacifying you.

''Quiet.'' He hisses, not even noticing the warm tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to fit his thick tentacle into your mouth, saliva dripping down the corners of your pretty lips. His hands find place in the curve of your hips, keeping you in place while his bare cock rubs up and down your back, too excited to even think about your clothes until the rough material of your jeans hits his sensitive tip.

''Scheiße.'' He complains with a small grunt, strong tentacles already working on ripping the clothes off of your much smaller body, finally able to feel your bare skin. So soft, he realizes. Much softer than the rough skin of his hands holding you in place as his tentacles keep your legs open, some sneaking up to get a good feel at your tits as his cock starts rubbing up and down your folds, not bothering to prepare you before he's forcefully sinking into you.

König has no idea on how the human body works. He's wondering why you're screaming in pain, struggling as much as you can against his tentacles, yet still feeling so tight around his cock. Shouldn't this feel good for you? He's seen humans have sex, this is where you should be moaning and enjoying yourself, isn't it? He's utterly confused, yet he starts fucking into you faster, forcefully stretching you until you're able to take half of his meaty cock inside you.

''That's it— you're doing good, baby.'' He coos, the sweet words leaving his lips not matching his actions at all as he starts being more forceful, wanting to shove every single inch of his cock inside you while being stopped by your cervix.

It's not his fault he's a filthy virgin, is it? He just wants to make you feel good like you deserve, a reward for being such a brave girl and getting into the water with him. His tentacles move on their own, slowly teasing your puckered hole before forcefully going inside, giving you time to adjust to the double penetration before they're slipping in and out of you, their own lubrication helping ease into you.

He grunts from behind you as he struggles to make you take him deeper, your cunt slowly lubricating to minimize the damage being done by the intruder— yet to you, it's betraying you. A muffled scream comes out of your lips when you feel his cock break you from within, managing to invade your fertile womb, finally able to stuff you with all 10 inches of veiny, thick meat.

His tentacles move deeper down your throat, the suckers sticking in your throat and letting go with painful, loud pops, trying to reach as deep inside you as possible despite your gags attempting to push them back. The tentacle in your ass is smaller, yet just as needy, moving in and out of your tight, puckered hole.

“Gonna make you have my babies.” He whispers into your ear, a small whimper escaping his lips when he feels you tightening up around his hard cock, a dreadful pit in your stomach as he starts to fuck into you harder, more brutally, driven purely by the primal need to breed.

He stuffs your tight cunt full, the angry red tip of his cock slamming harder and harder into your womb, keeping it open for him before his arms tighten around your body, emptying his balls right into your fertile, needy cervix. You can feel the tiny embryos within you, thousands of eggs stretching you open and inflating your tummy. Your body betrays you as you can feel him thrusting into you, making sure every single egg stays within you, your cunt tightening up around him as he forces an orgasm out of you.

He slowly pulls out of you, making his tentacles slowly come out of your tired, fucked-out body, one of them cupping your wet cunt to make sure his eggs stay inside you.

You'll be the pretty mother of his unnatural abominations, and he knows you'll come around eventually, wrapping his tentacles around your tired body and dragging you deeper into the water, about to take you to your new forever home, a cave big enough to keep you safe and entertained under his obsessed eyes.

He's not entirely bad— he gathered cute and shiny things for you, building you a small nest so you can sleep peacefully. That makes up for all of it, doesn't it?

2K notes · View notes

indecisivemuch · 3 months

Text

Flatline

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick.

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep.

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen.

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted.

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him.

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard.

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out.

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.”

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out.

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again.

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way.

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp.

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze.

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions.

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again.

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss.

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face.

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours.

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

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

masterlist

join my Luke Castellan taglist

taglist: @nininehaaa @perseus-jackass @tanifsblog @bubbly0 @hinata7346 @justanotherkpopstanlol @mysteris-things @randomgurl2326 @star611 @2hiigh2cry @seriously-slytherin22 @spideytingley @blondervoi @stuffyownswrld @fantasticchaosthing @amortencjja @chunkiwhunki @bookwormlu @crack240 @fandomthings-blog @sh0-ya @milkncookies143 @burdeningbitch @bugcuti3 @alexisishaunted @lilacspider @olivegirl123 @nellyjan-th @kehlanislefttoe @awenthealchemist @intergalactic-padawan @ricciardolover @whorecruxfortom @locknco @vanessa-rafesgirl @achenetype @haley2004 @ahlookatallthelonelypeople @strawberry--bunny @dancing-inasnowglobe @aviddilfenjoyer @jpg3 @ughnayaxoxo @jennapancake @slutt4siriusblack @marlenelyra @llpovi @ambrozjas-alt @catiwinky @wandas-gurlfri3nd @amandareids @kurtcobaingirlie @milkyhrtss @bruiswd @remussbitch @star-flecked-soul @asthmaticism @fairieeee @mehrmonga @siimplyapril @chaos-and-food @itsarajr

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan #luke castellan fanfiction #pjo fic #pjo #charlie bushnell #pjo imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #pjo series #fluff

2K notes · View notes

initialchains · 5 months

Text

would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting.

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting.

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there.

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss.

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement.

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did.

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.”

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control.

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?”

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again.

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.”

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.”

“I do.”

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too.

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while.

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank.

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”.

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.”

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?”

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.”

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it.

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself.

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.”

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.”

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries.

You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso.

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin.

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.”

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you.

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.”

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.”

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance.

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson #magnolia’s fics!

2K notes · View notes

syddsatyrn · 4 months

Text

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

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

The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes.

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally.

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization.

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face.

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle.

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents.

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day.

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

The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face.

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious.

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip.

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

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

He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

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

It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs.

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper.

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

#lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x you #lucifer x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x you #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin spoilers #hazbin #hazbin hotel alastor

2K notes · View notes