#I WANT TO NUZZLE UP TO HER WHILE SHE JUST HOLDS ME TIGHT AND SMOTHERS ME IN KISSES AND DOESNT LET ME GO AT ALL | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

will-on-the-internet · 3 years

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Saturday Mornings | Aaron Hotchner

Summary: On a Saturday morning, Aaron has no plans other than making sure he gets all the kisses he wants from you. Dad! Hotch!

Warnings: Allusions to sex, Children!

Prompt:“My kiss quota for the day hasn't been filled. I need a thousand more."

A/N: Thank you anon who requested this! You fulfilled my goal of getting up another fic this week, and it’s my first fluffly Aaron fic!

Word Count: 1.1k

PLEASE INTERACT FOR MORE AARON HOTCHNER FICS!

Aaron Hotchner never liked waking up early. He didn’t like having to leave his bed before sunrise or sacrificing those precious last minutes in bed with you to go get ready for work. But on days where the team had time off, or even on the occasional weekend that Hotch didn’t end up in the office filing reports, he made it his mission to stay in bed as long as he could.

This morning was no exception, his body still nestled within the blankets of your shared bed, hair messy and face pressed into the pillow, as he let out small snores that made you smile softly. You swept a hand through his hair, palm caressing his cheek gently as he hummed, and subconsciously moved to nuzzle his cheek further into your touch.

The television was already blaring downstairs, your young daughter and Jack up early to catch the Saturday morning cartoons that they loved so much. Pulling yourself away from the warmth of your husband, you left the bed and shut the bedroom door behind you, attempting to give him some tiny more moments of peace before your daughter came racing upstairs for her daddy to make pancakes and for Jack to beg him for a game of football.

You knew that Aaron wouldn’t wake up for another hour at least, giving you time to give the children their bowls of cereals and flicking the TV on to whatever channel then took their fancy. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard you poured yourself a cup of coffee that you brewed while the kids fought over where they wanted to sit on the couch; with Jack giving up against his sister and letting her sit on the large leather armchair his father loved.

“And here I was hoping that I’d get to spend some more time with you in bed this morning.” Aaron startled you out of your thoughts as he stepped behind you and wrapped his strong arms around your waist, head ducking to rest in the crook of your neck.

“You know how these two are, baby. All they care about is food and tv on a Saturday morning, someone had to give in to their demands.” Your tone is teasing, and it makes Aaron grin against the skin of your neck where he’s littering small kisses, lips warm and hands snaking under the material of your sleep shirt.

“You could have woken me up, and then I would have come straight back to you…might even had a chance to try for another ba--.” Suddenly your daughter was up and racing across the living room, eyes wide as she noticed her father standing behind you, and soon the pair of you were moving away from each other so he could scoop her up in his arms, holding her tight to his chest and smothering her tiny face with kisses.

“DADDY! Jack, daddy’s awake! Will you make us pancakes?” Everyone in the family knew that your daughter had Aaron wrapped around his finger, and even he couldn’t deny that when he looked down at the girl in his arms and grinned the grin that was only reserved for her.

“What? I don’t even get a kiss from my favourite girl before she demands pancakes?” He leaned back against the counter, pouting at his daughter who only giggled and pressed her chubby hands to his face, laughing as he ducked in for kisses once again. “Oh well, I guess I’ve got all day to get the kisses I want from my favourite people.” As she started to wriggle in his arms, he gently put her down and watched her run back towards the TV, before he turned back to you.

He didn’t hesitate to back you against one of the counters then, arms bracing himself on either side of you as you leaned in closer, lips hovering inches away from yours as the both of you ignored the sounds of the TV and your children’s noises of joy as their favourite cartoon started.

And that’s when Aaron kissed you for the first time that morning, soft and sweet with a touch of need that seemed to swallow you up as his arms held you to him and his hand wandered down your waist. It was a kiss that told you everything you needed to know, that he didn’t care that you had morning breath mixed with the scent of coffee, or that your hair was still a mess after just rolling out of bed. All Aaron wanted right then was to kiss you, to feel your warm body against yours as the two of you, both parents who hardly got a moment to themselves anymore, were finally able to take a breath and relax into each other.

Pulling away, you let out a shaky breath, slightly unsteady on your feet as Aaron’s grip loosened only slightly. He smiled, teeth and all that made your stomach erupt in butterflies and your cheeks heat up.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Pressing his forehead to yours, Aaron spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace the two of you were surrounded by. You smiled, reaching up to card a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp slightly in a way that you knew would make him go crazy, a low groan leaving his mouth as he looked back at you.

“You know, JJ is going to pick up the kids in ten to have a day with Henry and Michael, and as much as I love standing here in the kitchen with you, I think our day would be more productive back upstairs, in our bed, and under the covers.” Aaron kissed you as you spoke, stealing small breaths and making you giggle as he pulled away, brows quirking up at his suggestion.

"Well, I have absolutely no objects to that plan, baby. And do you want to know why?” You nodded in response to your husband, watching as his gaze wandered down your figure before lingering on your lips just as he stole another kiss. “My kiss quota for the day hasn't been filled. I need a thousand more."

Aaron wasn’t home in the mornings much, and he certainly wasn’t still in bed at nearly three pm on a Saturday morning, with your body on top of his and covers over your warm figures, smiling up at you with such love and want and longing that it made his mind cloud with a fog, as you pressed kisses to the side of his neck and let your hands roam his broad chest. For Aaron, this was the perfect Saturday with his favourite lover, slow, lazy, and wrapped up in so much warmth and need that neither of you ever wanted to leave.

Aaron Hotchner certainly had his kiss quota filled that day, and to his absolute joy, so, so much more.

ASK TO BE ADDED TO THE HOTCH TAGLIST!

Tagging: @altsvu @anxiousblanketqueen @lunalovecroft @spookydrreid @chewbucka @thank-the-lord @mggsprettygirl @maddieinwonder @rigatonireid @reidology @averyhotchner @cacoetheswriting @wasteland-bvby @reidingmelodies @dralexreid @courtneyapua

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #criminal minds #dad! hotch #will writes #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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quietmyfearswith · 3 years

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sparse sleep ; syverson x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count —1,972 words

summary — in which syverson has trouble sleeping.

warnings —swear words, fluff?? mentions ptsd and war things, angst?? insomia, implied smut, sleeping (literal sleeping) with strangers (thats dangerous please dont do that)

pairing — syverson x fem!reader

a/n — dont mind me, im just trying to get out of my fanfic writing rut so i would really appreciate some feedback and asks/messages are open! if you follow me, please state your age/age range in your bio. i will block you if you follow me and don’t have your age/age range in your bio!!!

tagging — @la-cey @melancholyy-hill @pedropcl @beck07990 @doozywoozy

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

“Shit! I’m so sorry,” Sy apologized as he accidentally spilled his drink on a woman who was sitting by the bar; his eyes lifted from the stain his drink made on her velvet dress to her eyes. Wow she looks beautiful, he thought as his mouth hung agape and he struggled to formulate words. “It’s alright,” She reassured him and chuckled at his panic, “I trust it was just an accident?”

It took him a few seconds before foolishly nodding his head, “It was, I’m sorry,” He pointed to the gathering crowd behind him that were rushing to get out to the balcony, “I was being pushed around by all these people.” It was a mere ten minutes before the new year approached them.

“Ah, well I don’t know about them but I’m not too keen on the fireworks,” She stated as she paid her bill. This lured Sy in as he hasn’t met a lot of people who disliked fireworks like he did, “You don’t like fireworks too? How come?”

She shook her head as she stood up from the chair, “Well just one of the reasons is that it bothers a lot of dogs.”

“My dog hates the fireworks too!” He said, too excited and he had to clear his throat as he began to walk along with her, “‘Tis the reason why I chose a hotel room with soundproof walls, or so they say.” Waiting for the elevator, she cooed at the mention of his furry companion; she was too excited that she couldn't help herself from asking, “Do you mind if I see your dog? Only if it’s alright, of course.”

The elevator let out a soft chime, Sy gestured for her to step in first and she did, “Sure!” He entered his own floor number and smirked smugly at her, “You sure this isn’t some devious plan of yours to lure me in and seduce me?”

She could feel her heart beat increase as she shook her head and slapped a hand to his pec, “No! Excuse you I just happen to love dogs so much, okay?” The former captain could feel the nervousness start to sink in as the elevator didn’t play out instrumental music; shifting his weight between his feet, he took a good look at her face as she was looking on her phone with a slight frown.

“What got you pouting over there like a heartbroken child?”

His Texan accent was thick when he said that sentence that it had her laughing softly as she chucked her phone into the back pocket of her denim jeans, “Where’s that accent from?”

“Texas; you from there?” She shook her head as she told him where she was originally from. The soft elevator chime informed them they were on the Captain’s floor. Taking charge, Sy exited first and his one hand pressed against the elevator doors, giving Y/N enough time to step out of the cold box. “Are all Texans a gentleman like you? Or is it just you?”

A deep chuckle erupted from his chest as he reached for his hotel key card in his back pocket once they were in front of his hotel room door, “Some are as dastardly as they come, while some clean up their act only to impress the ones they’re courting.”

As he opened the door, he gestured for her to enter first and she did with a smile; upon closing the door behind him, they both could hear Aika’s excited barks coming from the bathroom. “You might want to sit first on the bed, I’m gonna get her out.”

“Taking me to bed already? Naughty Texan you are,” Her flirty remark had the both of them laughing, but she happily skipped and sat on the bed as she patiently waited for the dog.

“And this is Aika,” Sy announced as the German Shepherd patiently and in a disciplined manner walked beside him; it was impressive to Y/N how the cute pooch was, despite her excitement — which was visible with her wagging her tail vigorously — she was still staying beside him before being given permission to approach her.

“You can go ahead and pet her,” Sy nodded as he sat on the floor beside Aika. With that signal, she knelt down and proceeded to scratch the space between her ears as she greeted, “Hi Aika, how are you?”

Sy looked with adoration as the girl giggled out loud when her face was being smothered and licked by Aika’s tongue, “Alright easy now, girl,” He tried pushing Aika to him; but to no avail the female dog seemed to have preferred his new found friend more as she plopped herself onto her lap and nuzzled to her.

“It seems like she might have chosen over you,” She observed as she stroked her fur with a smile; “I can’t blame her for doing so; I would have chosen you too, you know?”

His remark had her eyes widening and shock and she could feel the heat rushing up to her cheeks, “I don’t think I’m strong enough to carry you on my lap, Sy.” It was the first time he heard say her name and he felt this tremble inside him — due to all his years in the military, he mistook the feeling for something of fear while he was out in the battlefield — but really it was just butterflies floating around in his stomach.

“Well doesn’t have to be sitting on your lap, you could sit on mine you know?” He threw in a wink to mask his nervousness. Biting her lip, she gently jostled Aika off her lap and moved to sit beside him, until the outside of both their thighs were grazing against each other, “Let’s start off like this first and see where we go from here, yeah?”

“I’m fine with that,” He grinned at her, he checked on his wrist watch and noticed how they were a minute away from welcoming the new year, “Last sixty seconds of this year and it’s giving me a gift as a way to end and start the new year’s.”

Loving the sound of that, she took a bold move to sit on his lap, he tilted his head up to look at her as she was caressing his bearded cheek, “How ‘bout we welcome the new year with a kiss then?”

Instead of verbally responding, he took charge and slanted his lips with hers; pleased with what he did both her hands ran across the short trims of his hair while his large, warm hands circled around her waist.

The loud countdown by the people counting down the last ten seconds could be heard, but both of them could only focus on the feel and taste of each other. As their lips danced together, they both could feel the rumbling sound of the fireworks, they felt a dog snuggle in between them.

Breaking away from the kiss they both turned their attention to the sweet furball; Sy cooed at her while he was rubbing her head lovingly, “It’s okay, girl. We’re here, we won’t let the fireworks harm you okay?”

It was abordable to see how snuggly the pooch was, they giggled among each other while they brushed her fur lovingly. Sy moved her body around so her back was to his chest, whereas AIka settled her head into her lap; it had only been less than a few hours before they had met each other, they both felt safe and at peace with each other.

“She’s so adorable, how long has she been with you?” She found it odd how the collar she had did not contain a name tag. “Been together for almost three years now, she’s an army dog.”

With that information, she turned to face him, “Are you a veteran?” He nodded with a tight-lipped smile. Her hands left Aika’s fur and turned fully to hug him, rubbing the wide expanse of his back, “Thank you for your service, Sy.”

Part of him found her reaction quite silly, but at the same time no one has expressed such sincere gratitude to him and the fact that it came from her warmed his heart even more. “Well I had to make the world safe for you now, don’t I, love?”

Removing his tight hug around him, she jokingly shoved his shoulders but smirked otherwise. “So what are your plans now that you and Aika,” She pet the dog once more to remind her that they were here for her, “Have retired from active duty?”

“Gonna be training newly recruited soldiers — gives great pay and benefits, so I thought why not?” She pouted and tilted her head as her fingers ran around the hair that was by the nape of his neck. “Maybe try to get some sleep for once.”

“You have trouble sleeping? Do you have nightmares?”

Sy nodded sadly as he bit his bottom lip, “Not really nightmares, moreso flashbacks of all the explosions and killings.” He took a deep breath before continuing his recount of his sleepless nights, “Part of the reason why I don’t like fireworks, really. They remind me of when I was back in Iraq.”

The feeling of the pad of her fingers felt great along his skin, prompting him to open up more and let down his walls. Disconnecting his gaze from Aika and onto her eyes allowed him to see orbs of hope and love. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sy. You’re so brave for having to get over the terrors that keep you up at night.”

“Maybe if I had someone to hold me, I wouldn’t have trouble sleeping.”

The captain was only joking, but she didn’t hesitate when offering, “Well I could hug you to sleep at night, test that strategy of yours?” He looked at her with bewilderment, “You’d sleep — not the euphemism — with a man you just met?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she pursed her lips, “I’ll take my chances with you, Sy. But I don’t think you’re the type to lure women and kill them in their sleep now, are you?”

He chuckled and pecked her lips softly, “Well damn am I glad that you’re taking your chance on this Texan captain. I can lend you some clothes so you can dress up?”

She nodded and stood up, offering her hands to him which he gratefully took as he stood up. Silently, he handed her clothes and guided her to the bathroom, allowing her to dress and freshen up first. Once she was done with her routine, she then exited the bathroom and told Sy it was now his turn to change. As the captain was changing into more comfortable clothes, Y/N had been petting Aika and humoring her.

“Are you ready to sleep now?” He smiled as he leaned against the wall as he was watching the lovely scene in front of him.

“I am, and I do hope you get to sleep well.”

There was the warm feeling in his chest and stomach again; instead of addressing it internally, he just picked Y/N up from the floor and laid them both down on the wide bed. “Show off,” She remarked as she cuddled up into him — her arms wrapping around his wide frame as her legs tangled with his.

“Happy new year, by the way,” She said after a few moments of silence after they were cuddling. Nodding to himself, Sy pressed a tender kiss on her shoulder before greeting her back, “Oh it will be, love.”

And that night did prove his theory right, that he does sleep better with someone holding him. But that wasn’t the only reason as to why he wanted to keep her in his life for a long time.

#quietmyfearswith #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x fem!reader #syverson x reader #syverson x fem!reader #sy x reader #sy x fem!reader #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson x fem!reader #its not living if its not with queue

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vixenpen · 4 years

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To Resist Temptation pt.3

(Priest! Hawks x Succubus Reader)

(This is the last part and it’s just a blasphemous as the rest of them.)

Keigo worshipped you. You were his goddess.

He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t attend mass, couldn’t lead sermons, couldn’t do his charity work—nothing—without desiring you, and the personal heaven between your legs.

You had consumed him entirely. Lust was his damnation now.

Keigo paced anxiously, feverishly dabbing at his brow as he pontificated to his rapt congregation. Stupid, gawking things all of them. He couldn’t help, but think. Those nasty, blasphemous thoughts of his only grew stronger by the day.

And then, you slipped in. Keigo’s golden eyes fell on you. Your painted lips, sparkling eyes, bouncing tits, and swaying hips. And his mind grew cloudy with thoughts of you.

The two of you had taken to communicating covertly through those tempting, stylish outfits of yours.

Pink when you wanted soft, tender loving. White when you were feeling chaste, wanting only to spend some time with him. And red when you wanted to be fucked. Well and truly fucked.

That was the color you wore today. A red wrap dress. The same color as your plump lips.

It was the first time in weeks that you’d worn red.

Keigo stalked back towards the podium to hide his erection. His golden eyed gaze was zeroed in on you.

“Now, if you all will allow, I want to talk speak on the whore of Babylon. The temptation and sin that she represents. The way she presents herself in so many forms, taking root in our lives permanently as she beckons us to bed her.”

Every venomous word was spat with such passion and radiating with such underlying lust, that it shot straight to your core. Keigo’s amber eyes remained fixed on your own as he continued to preach on the whore of Babylon.

He was angry for having to wait for sex for so long, and you knew it. You had counted on it.

You smirked at him as you uncrossed your legs to reveal your sex—wet, and warm, and shaved.

Your smile widened when Keigo stumbled over his impassioned speech. Then his voice softened into a gentle, loving tone that you had become all too familiar with.

“But there’s beauty in that scarlet whore’s hell,” he all but purred, “and it may look like heaven to a man easily lead astray...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The church was dark and quiet. Keigo stood at the podium in a daze, gazing unseeingly at the empty pews where he’d been for half an hour now.

Finally, you emerged from your hiding spot where you always waited for the rest of the congregation to clear out. The red heels you wore, were muffled against the carpet as you marched through the center of the aisles.

The sun beamed through the stained glass depiction of Jesus and spilled over your approaching figure, bathing you in red.

His goddess. His devil. His light. His darkness.

You stopped just at the stage, and smirked up at him, hip cocked and arms folded.

“That was quite the performance you out on today, father.” You taunted. “Though next time, maybe refrain from all the innuendo. Why don’t you just tell them we fuck in the confession booth every other week?”

Keigo gripped the wooden podium so hard his knuckles turned white. He hung head.

“You’re the only thing that feels real anymore.” He mumbled almost as if to himself. “You’re all I think about. All I want. I don’t deserve to call myself a man of god.”

You ascended the steps and joined his side.

“No, you don’t, you never did.” You replied, laying a gentle hand on his back. “That wasn’t the path meant for you, my love.” You nuzzled his cheek.

When he spoke again he sounded broken. His smooth voice cracked under the weight of his emotions.

“What did you do to me? Please, goddess, you have to be honest with me.”

Grabbing his shoulders, you turned him to face you. Your beautiful face was soft with sympathy.

“I made you something better.” You caressed the stubble on his cheek. “I made you what you were always meant to be. A creature of sex like myself. Every succubus or incubus yearns for their twin flame, love, but not all of us find it. You’re mine. Now I don’t have to worry about the temptation. You were meant for me, Keigo.”

The man’s mouth was gaping slightly as he took in your words.

“You...you’re a-“

“Succubus, yes.”

And suddenly, like a light being flicked on, rage shrouded his handsome features.

“It’s because of you,” he hissedx “You’re the reason I’m like this.”

You said nothing.

“You don’t even care do you?”

You scoffed.

Your lack of an answer only angered the young priest more.

“Oh, not responding, huh?” He grabbed your arm roughly, spinning your body until your torso was flush with the podium. “I know what’ll get an answer out of you, whore.”

The fire was back. It rushed over both of you. Consumed the two of you from the inside out.

Keigo groped at your curves, desperate and clumsy.

You sighed and groaned as he squeezed your breasts, manipulating them out of the dress

“You knew exactly what you were when you came in that day.” He mumbled against your neck before bending you over.

A strangled moan fell from his lips as he massaged your round ass before exposing it to the cool, still air of the chapel.

“Dick hungry slut,” his hand landed against your plump bottom.

It made you moan. Such a beautiful sound. How he had missed your moans. He did it over and over again until his hand stung.

“A whore hungry for the souls of good men deserves to be fucked this way.”

You felt the tip of him run along your lips and bent over further.

“How daddy?” You cooed in response. “How does a dick hungry whore like me deserve to be fucked?”

Keigo growled low in his throat before slamming himself into you.

“Looking at these chairs,” he grunted back, rocking his hips. “Thinking about all those lost, idiotic souls who could’ve fallen prey to a Jezebel like you.”

Your juicy walls gripped and grabbed at his dick with such hunger, you thought you might absorb the man. Every thrust, every nasty word, every insult, every spank; sent an inferno of pleasure rushing through your body.

Keigo spat on your holes, admiring the beautiful skin of your ass and the pretty lips of your pussy as he plunged into you.

“You did this to me,” he sank his thumb into the puckered hole of your ass. “It’s your fault I no longer believe in his grace. It’s your fault that I’m a sinning fuck. A liar. A joke.”

If that’s what he wanted to believe. Then sure. You’d allow that for now.

You groaned as his finger slipped in and out of the tight, sensitive hold of your ass. His dick hit your gspot with every slam.

“You-you...” he practically sobbed. “You’re the only thing that feels as good as his love was supposed to.”

Your tongue lulled out of your mouth. The intense build up of your desire grew so swollen that it smothered your senses.

“Ahh, daddy! Fuck!” You twerked your ass back to meet his thrusts.

“Kei-Keigo,” you gasped between they squirting and thrusting and screaming. “It was you that allowed yourself to be corrupted, wasn’t it?”

Without missing a beat he replied, guiltily; “Yes, goddess.”

“Because, ah, a small part of you-oh fuck-never believed in the word to begin with. Did you?”

His hips stuttered.

“No,” he replied, his voice meek and quiet.

“Lie down.” You commanded, calmly.

Without hesitation, he lie down on the floor. The way he gazed at you was reverent as he awaited further instruction.

You stood poised over his hard on, looking down at this pitiful new incubus. He needed you. He craved you. Poor thing.

Slowly, you sank onto his dick, forcing him to feel every crevice and ridge of your dripping pussy until you were balls deep on him.

You rode him like a thoroughbred until his mouth fell open.

“You were always a sex crazed whore weren’t you, pet?”

“Y-yes, goddess.”

“Yes what?” You hissed. You squeezed his neck, red coffin nails digging into the skin

“Ahh fuck, y-yes I’m a sex crazed wh-whore goddess.” He croaked.

You leaned down until you were right in his flushed face. Keigo struggled to crane his neck towards you. He wanted to taste you. Needed it so badly that it hurt.

“Goddess, please..” his hips bucked weakly. “My goddesss, I-I, ahaaa!”

He came. Hard. His eyes crossed. Drool trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“You’re my slut aren’t you?” You snapped in a low, demanding voice. You jerked his head against the floor. “Say it!”

“I’mmmm y-you’re slut, goddess. I’m your slut.”

The desperate strain in his cracking voice made your pussy convulse with pleasure. Your eyes rolled back as you rode out your orgasm again and again and again.

Keigo was sobbing from the over stimulation. It hurt. It hurt so good.

“Goddess,” he whimpered, “stoppp, please, p-please, goddess.”

Your wicked laughter filled the chapel as you mocked him.

“You want me to stop, slut? Hm?” You hummed. You squeezed his throat again. In a sinister his you spat; “Then beg. Beg, my little pet incubus.”

The man’s lips trembled.

“Mercy, goddess,” he groaned. “Mercy on your pet slut, mercy. Mercyyy, fuccckkkk mercy!”

After feasting on his pleas a while longer, you finally hopped off of his half mast erection.

You kissed the man’s trembling lips over and over again, whispering words of love and praise in his ear for being so good.

“What do I do now, goddess?” He asked, weakly. “Who am I now?”

“You’re mine, pet.” You kissed his temple. “You’re mine.”

#bnha imagines #my hero academia #priest Hawks #succubi #sucubus #bnha scenarios #bnha #mha headcanons #hawks imagine #i simp for hawks #my hero fanfic #bnha smut #hawks smut #blasphemy #keigo x reader #hawks x reader #incubus

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smol-and-grumpy · 3 years

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What I Want Most - Six (FIN)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s life has been all work and no play lately. When Gabe, his friend, coerced him into tagging along to a club, he couldn’t say no as Gabe has been pestering him for a while now. What Dean didn’t expect was that he’d meet his match in that club in the form of a stunning woman with underlying daddy issues.

Warnings: Daddy kink, butt plug, public sex, office sex, FEELINGS

Word Count: 2837

Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3

Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist

The week went by so fast and the execs said that there would be another week of competition since they were both doing so well, making it hard for them to make up their minds.

Dean didn’t know right then if he should be happy or sad about it.

There were more pranks being pulled, more inappropriateness shared in their office.

One time he woke up with her sucking him off, making him come right into her throat and he rewarded her with letting her sit on his face. He absolutely loved to be smothered by her pussy. He also totally forgot about the time or what day it was so he turned up late to his meeting only because he wanted to give her more orgasm than the last time he let her mount his face.

He once fingered her right in a meeting, had her gush and come around his fingers and when everyone was making an exit, she had to stay back and clean her chair. Dean couldn’t stop laughing once she got back into the office, which earned him another round of the silent treatment for the rest of the work day.

The next day, she did the same to him, rubbed over his clothed dick so good that she made him cum right in his pants while Garth was babbling about fucking stock markets. Dean had to go home to fucking change his pants and since then, he took some more pants and underwear with him, stashed them in his desk drawer in case of emergencies like these.

Y/N had spent the weekend with him, though. So there’s that. And they didn’t just fuck and that’s progress. They went on walks, went out for dinner, did some shopping for naughty things and he really bought her a butt plug. She said that she wants to try it, but he shouldn’t push her. He didn’t. Instead, he let her take it home but he asked her if she could send him a picture when she uses it. She just laughed it off, even though he wasn’t even joking and was dead serious about it.

Spending time with her felt good. It was familiar, it was like he had known her for so long already and not just a little more than a week. And the sex, Jesus, the sex was incredible. But aside of that fucking mindblowing sex, he really enjoyed her company.

The working week after their weekend together started just like the previous one ended. With some office rivalry to warm up.

Monday, she brought him coffee and poured salt in it. Dean spat it out all over his screen and keyboard, and it was ten minutes after that he finished, she finally stopped giggling like a goddamn idiot.

They still tried to keep the other one from showing up for work on time, but it didn’t really end well, and on Wednesday, they were both late.

Somehow, Dean really hoped that it’ll be over and done with by the end of the week because he doesn’t think that he can keep this up any longer.

It’s now Thursday and he’s fucking exhausted by the tension, but it’s also now that he realizes something.

He came back from a lunch meeting to see her standing by the shelf, holding a binder in her hand and reading through it. He doesn’t know what it is but he’s mesmerized by the level of her concentration and she’s wearing her glasses and absolutely looks like a naughty librarian with her pencil skirt and high heels. Definitely looks delicious enough to be devoured.

And Dean can’t stop himself from standing behind her, pressing his body to her backside, feeling her soft and warm in front of him. His dick grows uncomfortably fast, swells up with lust and the rest of the blood goes to his heart as it starts to pump faster.

He dips his face down, nuzzles his nose along her neck. It’s like the first night they met. His hand skims along her body down to her thighs and she fucking lets him, like the good girl she is.

“Dean,” She says, “We shouldn’t,”

“Why?” He mumbles against her skin, “You look so good, baby, want you so bad,”

It’s the truth. He’s so hard he could pound nails and she hasn’t done anything yet. He’s whipped. Dean knows that too.

“Because I don’t think you can be quiet,” She pushes the binder back onto the shelf and turns around. Her hands play with his tie, wraps it around in her hand to pull him down for a kiss.

“Why?” He asks again, breathing hot air against her lips and she chuckles.

It wouldn’t be the first time they fuck in the office and he’s been holding himself up pretty good when they do it.

“Because of this,” Her hands leave his chest to skim down the side of her body. She turns back to face the shelf and lifts up her skirt past her round ass.

And then he sees it and it’s like someone had punched the air out of his lungs. Dean’s not able to breathe right. Jesus, even his cock starts to twitch violently at the sight. She bends forward and spreads her ass with her hands, granting him a better view and possible access.

“Fucking hell, baby,” He mumbles, still can’t believe what he’s seeing. There’s a black diamond looking out of her asshole. She has used the butt plug he bought her. Dean swallows, “How long have you been wearing it?”

Y/N shrugs, “Since this morning,”

“My fucking god, Y/N, fuck,”

“You like it?”

“Like it?” He asks and he runs over to the door, locks it just to be fucking safe. When Dean’s back behind her, he gets down on his knees, using his hands to help her keep her ass spread as he dives into her cunt, licking and sucking at it. She hasn’t worn any panties, and has stopped wearing them to work for a couple of days now because she said that there’s no point if she’s going to ruin them every day anyway.

He trails his tongue back over her rim to her ass, the tip of his tongue tickles around the plug and she moans as she presses her body closer against the shelf.

“I fucking love it. That’s fucking beautiful, baby,” Dean coos, and he pulls at the plug just a little, sees her asshole widening before he pushes it in only to repeat it again. God, he could just spend his day doing this because it also elicits the sweetest fucking moans out of her, “You did that for me, huh?”

“Only for you, daddy,” She says sweetly, almost too sweet. His heart aches as much as his cock.

Dean's hands leave her ass to open up his belt and feels relief when he pulls down his zipper and releases his throbbing dick. He spits into his palm, jerks himself off to the sight in front of him. He bites into that ass too, can’t stop himself from doing it and she lets out a squeal, accompanied by a chuckle.

“Baby girl, I wanna fuck you bad, and I know that we should probably move this to the bed but fuck, I need a taste,” He jerks himself faster, is already leaking profoundly, “Can I, please?”

He looks up to see her nodding and Dean stands back up, leans over to her to kiss her properly. His tongue goes in deep, swirls around her own tongue in her mouth.

“I’ll be gentle,” He promises and there’s another nod of approval, “Spread your cheeks for me, baby,”

Her hand goes back to her ass, grips at her flesh and spreads it out for him. He groans at the sight and tries to hold himself together, tries not to lose himself before he even gets to be inside.

Dean spits into his hand, slathers his cock with his own spit before he guides the tip to her pussy, letting the head catch the rim and pushes in just a little.

“Fuck,” He groans, “It’s already so fucking tight,”

His hand goes to her head, making her tilt it to the side and he leans forward as he pushes in further, watching the reaction on her face before he presses a kiss on her temple and along her cheek.

“So good, baby, such a good girl for me,” He whispers low and has to stall when he bottoms out, “You feel fucking amazing. You were tight before, but fuck!” He moves out of her slowly, moves in again, “How does it feel for you? Are you okay?”

“God,” Y/N breathes out, “Full, feels so full… but it feels good,”

Dean chuckles as he noses along her temple, “That’s good, want it to be good for you too,” He whispers as he moves in and out of her unbearably tight cunt in a slow pace.

“Daddy?”

“Huh? What’s wrong, baby?”

“Can you fuck me harder and faster?” She arches her back for emphasis, drives her ass against his dick, making him go in deeper than before.

“Jesus Christ,” Dean growls, “I don’t know if I can last long if I fuck you harder, baby,”

“Please? For me? You can fuck me again later, but I want it hard now, daddy,”

“Goddammit,” Dean grits his teeth and he pushes his body away from her, smacks her ass before he digs his fingers into her hips and begins to fuck her harder, “You know I can’t say no to you, right? You fucking know it and you always use it to your advantage,” He pants and keeps fucking her hard, “Gonna spread you out tonight, baby, spank you for thinking that you’ll always get your way,”

He can feel her pussy clenching at the mention of the spanking. She is definitely something else and Dean would be damned if he’d let her go.

“You love it when I’m bratty,”

“Damn right, I do,”

Yeah, he does. Very much.

He spanks down on her ass again, making her yelp up and then he feels it, the tight squeeze, the wetness that surrounds his cock. She just fucking came from his cock and the buttplug alone. It’s the best fucking thing.

With a groan, Dean comes too. It’s impossible to hold out longer, not when her pussy’s so fucking tight. He might try that ass tonight if she’ll let him. His hands are on her ass, kneading it as he comes down from his high.

Dean chuckles when he pulls out of her and Y/N lets out a soft whine. His dick comes out with a blotch of his cum. They will need to clean the floor. Again. It’s not the first time.

He quickly walks over to his desk and pulls out tissues from the drawer, walks back with them to clean her up and himself before he cleans the cum from the floor. Dean places a kiss on each of her ass cheeks and one square on that black diamond head of the butt plug before he pulls her skirt back over her ass where it belongs.

When he tucks himself back too, he grabs her by the waist and turns her around, kisses her soft and long, “I have to be somewhere but you’ve gotta wait for me before you go home, okay?”

“‘K,” She says and Dean leaves a kiss on her forehead before he makes his way out.

Dean’s been gone for a long time, and it’s already past 6.00 PM. She’s finished with her task for today and is sitting at her desk, trying to sort emails and go over the tasks for tomorrow just to occupy her time. He said she should wait, but he’s taking so long.

After he left she had already opened the windows to get the sex stink out. She has also gone to the bathroom and cleaned herself thoroughly down there and pulled out her panties from her drawer, and even wears a pad. She hates to soil her skirt with his cum when she’s not wearing underwear

It’s 6.34 PM when Dean comes back.

“Uh,” He says, with his hands in his pockets, and he looks somber. Clearly, something��s wrong, “They are expecting you in the boardroom.”

“What?” She frowns, “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Dean shrugs as he walks back behind his desk, “I wouldn’t keep them waiting,”

“Okay?” Her heart starts to race and she wants to ask Dean more, but apparently, she’s wanted now and it seems to be important so she gets up, and before she closes the door, she sends him a glance, Dean nods with only the smallest of a smirk on his face.

The offices are mostly empty at this time of the night. Occasionally people would stay longer, but the majority already went home. Her heels click against the stone floor and her heart almost jumps out of her chest the closer to the boardroom she gets.

Mrs. Mills and Mr. Turner are already waiting.

“Please, take a seat,” Mrs. Mills says and points to the chair.

She takes a seat and notices that the chair’s still warm. Dean must have been in here. She can still smell the traces of his cologne. What just happened? Did he rat her out? Will they tell her now that he got the job and not her?

“Miss Y/L/N, let’s cut to the chase because we all would like to go home now. The reason we asked you to come in here is that we would like to offer you the job.”

Her eyes widen.

“I- uh, really?”

“Yeah, congratulations,” Mr. Turner chimes in, “You’ve done remarkably well for someone who just started two weeks ago. You were determined, you did your research well and you always had good arguments to prove your point. We are sure that you’ll be a great addition to the partner team.”

“Wow,” She huffs out, “But what about Mr. Winchester?”

“He was actually the one who told us to choose you and brought good points to the table,” It was Mrs. Mills who spoke, “He’ll be keeping his job, but you’ll move into your new office on Monday. We’ll get the contract on your desk by tomorrow,”

Dean did what?

Why?

Oh my god. And then it dawns on her. She got the job! She really got the job!

“Okay, thank you so much,”

“It’s our pleasure,” Mrs. Mills stands up from her seat and she does too. The two of them shake her hand before they disappear and she waits until they are gone but she’s too giddy and barely can contain herself.

When both of them were out of earshot, she runs towards the office she shares with Dean, hopes so fucking much that he’s still here.

Y/N’s out of breath when she opens the door. Dean looks up from his screen, but he knows because he’s grinning. He rolls his chair back, beckons her over with a hand gesture.

And she goes in willingly, takes off her shoes and sits into his lap, curls herself against his body as he holds her.

She feels safe with his arms wrapped around her. And as independent and strong as she may be, she enjoys that he’s taking care of her. Absolutely loves how he cares beyond the incredible sex they have.

“Why?”

“What?” Dean asks. The bass of his voice rumbles in his chest.

“Why did you tell them to choose me? They would have chosen you.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think they would have. You’re clearly the better candidate. You’ve shown that you can do anything when you set your mind to it and even though you didn’t know the company, you still did better than me,”

“Why did you give up the promotion? You didn’t want it?” She nuzzles her face into the crook of his neck, smelling the scent she’s grown to love.

“Not really, to be honest. My brother is moving into the city soon. We are going to try and open our own business one day so it isn’t bad if I have some money on the side until our business takes off. So, you know, I wanted the job, at least a part of me wanted it,” He pauses to place a kiss on her forehead, “But then I realized that I shouldn’t risk what I want most for something I want now,”

Pulling her head back she looks at him, sees him smiling.

“What do you want most?” She asks with a beating heart because she thinks she knows. She would just love to hear him say it.

“You,” He says, pulls her close by the back of her neck. He kisses her soft and gentle, “I want you so much,”

She can’t say she doesn’t want him either, because she does. So fucking much.

FIN

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I appreciated every comments, likes and reblogs. You are incredible! <3

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

#what i want most #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #nathalie writes

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stuffthatbard · 3 years

Text

Good Puppy

Tags: Jaskier/Yennefer, Puppy Play, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Collars, Cock Cages, Butt Plugs, Vibrators, Multiple Orgasms, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sub Jaskier, Dom Yennefer, Humiliation, Omorashi, Watersports, Breathplay, Aftercare, Praise Kink, Spooning, Consensual Kink

Ummmm prompts sitting in my inbox? What prompts haha

When Yennefer first suggested it, Jaskier thought she was kidding. Pretending to be a dog? Like a kid playing make-believe? He didn’t understand how anyone could find it arousing, but the idea did intrigue him, and so he agreed to try it out.

He hadn’t expected to like it quite this much, but something about the way she treated him—loving, yes, but somehow still beneath her—got him off like a rocket.

And even beyond that, beyond the fact that a sighed “Puppy,” could have heat curling in his gut immediately, he found that he quite liked the submission of it as well—whenever they played, he didn’t have to worry about anything. He only had to be a good boy and listen to her—or, if he was bad, to take his punishment. But he was rarely bad—pleasing her earned him praise that he desperately craved.

And one day, when they’re lying together in bed, sweat cooling on their bodies, Yennefer brings up something more. “What would you say,” she muses, fingers curling round his hair, “to being my puppy all the time?”

“All the time?”

“Only at home,” she amends herself. “The rest of the world doesn’t get to see you like this. Only I do,” she purrs, tugging at a lock of his hair, sending a shiver down his spine.

He bites his lip. It’s a daunting thought, but he can’t deny that he’s interested. “What would that mean?” he asks.

“The same rules would apply—you would always wear a collar, and you wouldn’t be allowed on the furniture, and you would sleep in your crate—unless you’ve been good and I let you join me in bed,” she says.

He hesitates.

“You can say no. We can keep doing this, only playing occasionally.” She pets a hand over his hair, inadvertently reminding him exactly why it is he loves this.

“I want to,” he blurts out. “I want to try it.”

Settling into life as her puppy is much easier than Jaskier thought it would be. The only challenge is this: When Yennefer is at work, and he’s left home alone, he can’t quite settle into the mindset. He supposes he doesn’t have to, not while Yennefer isn’t here. He can’t sink fully into being her puppy, but it feels wrong not to, and so he’s caught in a sort of in-between state, with all the desires of a human being and none of the restraint to stop himself from acting on them.

He doesn’t think twice about pleasuring himself while she’s gone—she won’t be home for hours yet, after all, and he’s so horny he could cry. Surely it won’t hurt much if he rubs one out, right? He has needs, after all, and if she’s not there to help him fill them, well…

He hops up on her bed, buries his face in the sheets that have her scent on them, and starts rutting against the mattress, thoughts of silken skin and sharp nails filling his mind. He’s close, so close, on the edge of coming—whimpering and gasping—

He hears the door open.

The shock of being caught by Yennefer summons his orgasm immediately, that wicked little exhibitionist streak he’s always had rearing its head. But it’s not as satisfying, ruined by the sudden thought that she’s seen him breaking the rules.

He stares at her, breathing heavily, and she stares back. He expects yelling, he expects her to grab his collar and drag him off the bed, berate him—he expects anything except what actually happens.

“Aw, did puppy make a mess?” she coos, walking over and dragging a finger through the cum painting the sheets. He whines, face burning in embarrassment, burying his face in the sheets so he doesn’t have to look at her.

“None of that now,” she says sternly, but her fingers are gentle when they scratch behind his ear. She coaxes him to lift his head, tugging gently at his collar until he looks at her. “It’s alright, I should have known you couldn’t control yourself.”

He perks up a bit—does this mean he’s not in trouble?

He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for his punishment to come, but she doesn’t do anything that night. Is it a test? Is she leaving him waiting in anticipation, to make it all the more intense when it finally comes?

He’s almost forgotten about it by the time she comes home the next day—later than usual, and carrying a shopping bag, though from this angle, he can’t see what’s inside it. Curiosity is eating him up, but puppies can’t ask questions—and he’s determined be good for her, not wanting to remind her of his recent transgressions.

He greets her enthusiastically, nuzzling into the vee of her legs—maybe she’ll even let him apologize the way he knows best, until she’s shaking with pleasure.

She catches on immediately—of course she does. She’s a good owner, always knows what her puppy wants—though that doesn’t mean she gives it to him, of course. “Do you want to say sorry?” she asks, reaching down to pet his hair.

He whines and nods, eager to earn her forgiveness.

“Go sit on the bed,” she instructs, and he leaps to obey. He’ll show her just how good he can be, and secretly he hopes that he might be rewarded for it.

Antsy with anticipation, he fidgets in place, though he doesn’t dare get up and pace. She doesn’t make him wait long—she follows shortly after, carrying the same bag, which she sets aside. Though he’s burning with curiosity about what’s inside it—and whether it’s meant for him—his attention is pulled away by her shutting the door and beginning to strip, revealing skin that he’s itching to taste. If he had a tail, it would be wagging right now.

She climbs atop the bed and leans back against the headboard, looking every inch the regal queen despite—or maybe because of—her nudity. Her legs part, revealing a glimpse of her cunt, already starting to get wet.

As much as he wants to leap into action, kissing and licking, he’s been trained better than that. He waits until she pulls him in place with a finger hooked around his collar, nudging his head down, before he starts to lave his tongue over her.

His licks are sloppy, uncoordinated, but no lesser for his eagerness. Slick drips down his chin, mixing with drool as he salivates, relishing the taste of her sweet cunt.

After she shakes apart on his tongue once, walls clenching around nothing, she tugs him up by the collar, and he shifts his attention to her clit, licking and sucking until she’s moaning, legs trembling with another orgasm. He knows better than to stop, and returns to licking between her labia, dipping his tongue inside as she shudders.

He flutters his tongue, teeth just barely grazing her clit, and she grinds down, smothering him, though he doesn’t complain. He laps up the slick that gushes forth like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted, licking her clean until, oversensitive, she pulls him away with two fingers hooked in his collar.

“Good boy,” she croons, once she catches her breath, and pulls him into a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue. “Apology accepted.”

His heart soars. He’s been forgiven, and he’s been good! He whines with pleasure, nipping gently at her lips until she pushes him away and sits up.

He watches as she leans over and pulls the bag closer—he’d forgotten, and his heart drops when he sees the first item she pulls out. “Oh, don’t be like that,” she coaxes upon seeing his face. “This is to help you be a good boy. You want to be good, right?”

He whines. He does want to be good, but this—a cock cage? Forget a reward, this is perhaps the worst punishment she could give him.

Will she ever allow him to come again? And what about—he gulps—what about when he needs to piss? He trusts her with his life, but not enough to trust that she won’t delight in making him squirm.

But he doesn’t stop her when she leans forward and fits it around his cock and balls, the cold metal making him flinch back. “Stop that,” she admonishes, flicking lightly at the head of his cock, and he yelps.

It’s a painful few minutes as she waits for his erection to go down enough to fasten the cage closed and lock it, tucking the key away. “There we go,” she coos. “Now we shouldn’t have any more accidents.”

He whines again.

“And,” she continues, “I have a treat for you.” He perks up as she pulls another item out of the bag—a tail plug, and his eyes go wide in arousal when he sees it.

She laughs, but not meanly. “Turn around and present.”

He does, holding his cheeks open the way she taught him to allow better access—and because ‘it makes such a pretty sight,’ according to her.

He jumps at the first press of a slick finger at his hole, but leans back into it as she works him open, little whimpers making their way out of his mouth. The plug slides in easily, popping past the tight ring of muscle and settling right up against his prostate. The fur of the tail brushes against the inside of his sensitive thigs, and it sends him half mad with sensation.

He feels a sudden sharp sting on his ass—she’s spanked him, just to see the way he yelps and clenches around the plug, yelping again when it drives the plug further in, pressing just so against his most sensitive spot.

He forces himself to settle, consciously relaxing his muscles and giving himself some relief. Experimentally, he wiggles his lower half, the tail swinging side to side, and earns an appreciative hum from Yennefer. “Do you like that, puppy?” she purrs. “I certainly do.”

He nods, turning around and nuzzling up against her thigh. She really is good to him.

“Wait until I show you the best part,” she says, rummaging around in the bag once more. Jaskier hears a small click, and then suddenly he feels the plug start to vibrate, forcing precum to weep out of his caged cock, which is valiantly trying to get hard again despite its bonds.

His fingers scrabble against the sheets, trying in vain to find something to cling to as he rides the waves of vibrations. He whines, thrusting his hips forward into the sheets by instinct, but he can’t get any stimulation on his poor caged cock. His desperate humping is as useless as his cock is now.

He buries his face against her leg, whining still, and she takes pity, switching the vibrations off. “I’ve put you through a lot tonight, I know,” she murmurs, petting his hair. “We’ll play with that later.”

He remains frustrated and unsatisfied until he falls asleep, but he’s at least grateful to be forgiven and even allowed a place in her bed.

When he wakes up the next morning, he expects Yennefer to take the cage off. Maybe this was just a brief punishment, a test, and she’ll let him come since he’s been so good.

But she just laughs at his hopeful look—“Silly puppy. This is for your own good, remember?”—and leaves it on. And to make matters worse, he knows that she’s going to be busy all day today—she’ll be home, but most likely locked away in her office while she works.

The sole consolation is that she won’t have the time to torture him with pleasure, something she delights in doing whenever they’re home together. But she won’t be giving him any attention, either.

He dozes for a bit, whiling away the morning, until he gets too bored and goes searching for anything else to do. He would jerk off, but, well, that’s not an option anymore. He considers going to bother Yennefer, but even before thinking about it he knows it’s a bad idea. And he’s trying to be good, after all.

It’s around noon when the urge to pee gets really bad. He’s been holding it all morning, ignoring the steadily-growing urge, but it’s truly undeniable now. Hanging his head, he goes over to her office, scratching at the door to get her attention. The door doesn’t open, though. Heart clenching, he whines, knowing that she’ll be angry with him for disturbing her, but he’s desperate at this point—good boys don’t have accidents, after all, and he’s perilously close to one.

His bladder is straining, almost as if he can feel the piss sloshing around inside. After a wave of need hits him particularly hard, his hands fly down to his cock, squeezing as firmly as he can despite the cage in the way. He needs to go.

He starts to cry, tears of frustration and desperation falling down his face, hiccupping whines making their way out of his mouth. “Jaskier, stop whining. I’m busy,” Yennefer calls from the other side of the door.

So she knows he’s there, and she won’t come to help. Jaskier knows, then, with absolute certainty, that he’s going to piss himself. He’s going to piss right here, right on the floor, through his cage, and it’s going to get everywhere, and Yennefer is going to be mad, and—

He’s peeing before he can even finish the thought, hot piss hissing against the bars of the cage, dribbling onto the floor into a hot puddle, soaking his legs. The relief is great, but it’s overpowered by the intense guilt and shame of the action. He’s pissing on the floor. Like an untrained puppy.

Though his eyes are squeezed shut, he hears the door to the office open. He whines, not meeting her eyes, shoulders hunched up.

“Bad puppy,” she admonishes—the exact words he feared. “What have I told you about making a mess?”

He whines, but it’s cut off as she wraps a finger around his collar and pulls him after her. He rushes to catch up, limbs uncoordinated, weak with relief and heavy with dread. She drags him to the bathroom, has him clamber into the tub, and turns the faucet on full blast. He yelps, the water stinging his skin—at least she’s using warm water, rather than cold. It’s still not something he was expecting, and he’s left dripping but clean in the aftermath.

She towels him dry, rough but not painful, except for when she tweaks his nipples or yanks at a strand of hair or tugs at his tail. He stifles his yelps, though, not wanting to anger her more, even as she clicks her fingers at him to follow her to the bedroom.

He makes as if to jump up on the bed, but one stern glance from her has him reconsidering. Right. Only good boys are allowed on the furniture. He sits at her feet, head bowed, waiting for his punishment.

She bends down and brushes a finger under his chin, lifting until his eyes meet hers. “How can I help you learn this lesson, hm?” she asks, thumb stroking his lips. “I don’t think pain will work—you’re too eager for it,” she mocks. “But pleasure, well—my dirty little hedonist, I think I can teach you about too much of a good thing.” She leans in close, her breath mingling with his. “I’m going to make you mess your cage until you run dry.”

She switches the vibrating plug on. He sucks in a breath, hips jerking forward and almost touching her leg, but he wrestles himself back under control. Don’t make a mess, he coaches himself, his hips twitching as if to drive himself back further upon the vibrator. She laughs delightedly. “Good boy, you’re learning already.”

He whimpers, caught between the dual pain of his flesh pressed against the cage and the pleasure of her praise and the wonderful vibrations. With the plug pressed directly against his prostate, he’s rapidly barreling towards an orgasm—except his cock is kept forcefully soft, weeping through the bars and pooling on the floor. He whines upon seeing it and, without a second thought, leans down to lick up his mess.

Her hand comes down in his hair, at first caressing, but then she shoves him down, nose ground against the floor. “That’s right. Clean up the mess you’ve made,” she says, not letting him up until every drop has been licked clean.

The vibrations keep rocketing through him, assaulting his every nerve. He bites his lip, feeling an impossible orgasm approach. Even confined in a cage, he can feel it building, building, until it overtakes him in a wave, dragged out of him in a slow oozing drip. He pants, riding it through, his panting turning into a steady whine as the plug doesn’t stop.

His oversensitive nerves jump with every sensation, his fingers curling into fists, sweat beading and dripping down his skin. He risks a glance up at Yennefer, silently begging her to stop, but she just raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you want to be good, puppy?” she asks, and he does, he does want to be good, but it’s almost painful now, a second orgasm forcing its way through his body.

He’s right on the edge—but he still needs something to push him over, something to pull him through the wall of oversensitivity and bring him to ecstatic pleasure. He gets it in the form of her sharp nails pricking at his skull, yanking his head up, and her other hand tugging at his collar and twisting. He gasps, air cut off, hands coming to scrabble at his neck, eyes rolling back in his head—and comes like a fucking fountain, cum spurting between the bars of his cage, all the blood rushing from his head, stars filling his vision.

He slumps down, gasping in a breath as she releases his collar, her deceptively strong arms catching him before he can fall into the puddle beneath him. She lifts him up and places him in bed—like a good puppy, his hazy mind tells him—and he slowly comes back to the feeling of her scritching her nails lightly behind his ear in the way that always drives him mad with pleasure, and the sound of her murmuring praises.

“Good boy, Jaskier, you were so good for me,” she coos, and he feels her jostle the cage between his legs. His eyes shoot open and he scrambles backwards with all the urgency his lazy limbs can manage. He can’t handle anything more right now, not with his poor wrung out cock so sensitive. His safeword is on the tip of his tongue when she speaks.

“I’m taking it off, that’s all,” she promises, and he settles down, letting her unlock it and ease it gently off, noting with a whimper the dark lines the cage has gouged into his flesh. “Oh, poor thing.”

Next is the tail plug, and he knows not to jerk back from the slight tug at his stretched rim. There’s a brief flash of too-much as the widest part of the plug exits, followed by the alien feeling of his hole gaping around nothing, fluttering weakly in the plug’s wake.

“Lovely,” Yennefer praises, looking at his hole as if she’d like nothing more than to devour him. Mercifully, she leaves well enough alone, and nudges him over until she can fit on the bed next to him, pulling him into her arms. He goes with a happy sigh, glad his punishment is over and basking in her closeness. “Good boy,” she praises him one last time before sleep claims him. He really does love being her good puppy.

#stb fic #stb yenskier #stb jaskier #stb yennefer #stb omo #stb roleplay

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yeojaa · 4 years

Note

so maybe another devil in a new suit drabble 👉👈 maybe jk meeting oc parents or like more interactions w oc and jks parents/sister

[ read devil in a new suit ]

pairing. jjk x f!reader. rating. pg-13. tags. mentions of coconut!kook dancing (and the whole reason i wrote this tbh), cute banter, idk. just a lotta fluff, a lil bit of grinding, y’know. wc. 2.7k. beta reader. none other than @hobi-gif. i love you always! author note. oh look... it’s me... posting something... after sixteen hundred years. womp womp. this truthfully didn’t go the way i planned it to but i hope you enjoy regardless!

It really shouldn’t surprise you. Frankly, it doesn’t.

But it is a little funny.

There are about six girls gathered in a gaggle around your boyfriend, all desperately vying for his attention as he presents a neatly gathered bouquet to his little sister. Jisoo’s all smiles, completely over the moon with pride and riding that high as she rightfully should. (She’d done incredibly well, closed out the showcase with a fluidity you could never even dream of.) She doesn’t even notice her friends staring at her brother with hearts in their eyes, each one red in the face and not from exertion.

(That, or she doesn’t care. Maybe she’s grown used to it - the whole having-a-heartthrob-for-a-brother thing.)

It’s actually quite cute, if only because you know Jungkook doesn’t have eyes for anyone but you. Can feel it in how he keeps bouncing his gaze back towards you, dimple winking from deep within his cheek each time your eyes meet. He’s like a child going back to his favourite toy, momentarily distracted by tittering laughter and his sister’s sunny smile but always coming back to you. The knowledge warms you from the inside out, drags a satisfied smile across your lips.

You wonder whether he notices the attention or if it’s just another part of his life. (You think he must know. These college students don’t really hide it well, too handsy for their own good, years of growing up in semi-close proximity instilling a certain confidence in their motions. That, and because Jungkook is quite possibly the least intimidating person you’ve ever met.)

“Thank you for coming!” It’s Jisoo, flushed and excitable, round eyes as bright as her brother’s as she crosses to you. This had been her moment - her time to shine - but you appreciate the effort she makes to include you, finding you within the crowd. “I was a little nervous but…” A shrug rolls her narrow shoulders, shakes her dark hair from its loose coil.

You’d seen her practice before this - watched the long videos she’d regularly send to Jungkook - but seeing her in real life motion was an entire league of its own. Dancing was her calling, every bit of her made for it. There was just something lyrical about the way she moved, how her hips rolled, limbs seemingly guided by the rhythm of the music. A grace you’ve never had, even on your best day.

“You shouldn’t have been.” You’re beaming right back at her, sisterly reassurance on your tongue. “You were amazing.”

Whether she believes you or not - you think she does by how her cheeks grow ten sizes and her eyes are all but swallowed whole by the expression - she’s gracious, accepting the compliment with her blinding smile. (She really was like Jungkook like that.)

“You guys should come to a class one day.” By that, she means a class she helps teach every once in a while. You’ve heard about it on more than one occasion, seen the choreography posted on Instagram and YouTube.

Still, you don’t expect that, brows shooting high. Laughter filters past your teeth, springing off your tongue. “I am not a dancer and I doubt your brother—”

Now it’s Jisoo’s turn to wear surprise like a neon sign, expression splitting with giggles of her own. “Wait— have you not seen Kook dance?” The way she says it is incredulous, Bambi eyes sparkling with what looks like mischief.

“No?”

“Your sister told me something.”

You’ve never seen this particular brand of worry on his face, eyes even more comically wide than usual, whatever words he’d originally meant to speak dying on his tongue. He looks like a literal deer caught in the headlights, one of his nicknames suddenly very apt.

“What did she say? She likes to embarrass me.” True. Jisoo and Jungkook had a textbook sibling relationship, full of teasing and mockery and copious amounts of love. “Whatever she said, don’t believe—”

“She said you used to dance.”

“Oh.” Oh? You hadn’t expected Jungkook to deflate so easily, relief flooding his features. “Yeah, I did. In university.” He’s utterly unbothered by this knowledge, attention back on the soondubu jjigae he’d been shovelling into his mouth. “I had some friends who were dancers, so it was good exercise.”

“I want to see.”

His answer is immediate, despite the heaping bite of rice and stew in his mouth. “No.”

You whack him across the shoulder, startling him into clattering his spoon on the countertop. It leaves a messy red streak across marble but you’re dragging his attention back to you with a firm glare, fingers cradled under his jaw. “I want to see.”

Talent apparently runs in the family, you realise halfway through the third video. Jungkook moves with the same assured movements his sister does, with power and grace and a confidence that frankly baffles you. He treats the practice room like a stage, running through the motions so fluidly you almost have trouble believing it’s your man on the screen. (Not that he’s particularly ungraceful. It’s just surprising, like watching a dog walk on its hind legs.)

“So, what happened?” You say it so conversationally, innocently, with eyes that mimic his own. From the corner of your periphery, your boyfriend shifts, hand flexing over your knee. There’s the furrow between his brows, the subtle tension in his jaw. Worry.

“What do you mean?”

Your own hand waves toward the screen, where the image of Jungkook from over half a decade ago sits paused. “You were so…” You’re not sure what you mean. There are just so many options to describe the literal baby boy on the television. Young? Confident? Round? (You can’t get over his haircut, though you suppose you can’t hold it against him.)

Jungkook simply stares at you, waiting for you to find whatever words you want to use. Despite the uncertainty that swims somewhere in the depths of his eyes, he’s endlessly patient. Always so soft when it comes to you.

“You had a coconut head.”

Laughter explodes off his tongue, entire face screwing up with amusement. “Are you serious?”

“You did!” Admittedly, the cut had somehow worked on him but it’s so reminiscent of grade school haircuts you can’t help but focus on it, too distracted by the glossy sheen to offer much else. “I guess I get it, though.”

“What do you mean? Everyone had that haircut—”

“In first grade, maybe.” He sticks his tongue out at you then; you scowl in response.

“What do you get?” As always, he’s perceptive, immediately aware of your carefully knit brow, the thoughtfulness that fits itself around your teeth like gleaming white veneers and holds his attention hostage. He’s grown used to it over the months you’ve been together - knows you cling tight to things with an iron grip, turn them over and over until you’ve made sense of it in that brain of yours.

“The crushes.” You look affronted, almost appalled at the realisation. He bursts out laughing, broad palm coming down upon your bare leg in a smack. (He apologises profusely when you complain.)

“What’re you talking about?”

Your nose is wrinkled, velvet strands dislodged by the shake of your head. “All your sister’s friends. They’re in love with you.” Jisoo had even agreed, laughed about it when you’d commented on it at the recital. Something about them having grown up with Jungkook, obsessed with the image they’d retained of him since university. “But you were a coconut. You wore Timberlands and drop-crotch pants. You weren’t even that cute.” An exaggerated shudder slips over your shoulders.

“I was nineteen.” As if that makes it better. Your judgment doesn’t lessen, the lines running the bridge of your nose only deepening.

“Still. Embarrassing.”

Your boyfriend truly is the best sport, rolling his eyes at you in the same instance he reaches for you, tugs you closer with broad palms, affection searing into your skin. “Well, luckily, no more Timbs. No more bowl cut.” He nuzzles into the warmth of your neck, spreads your knees wide over his hips. The sound of his laughter melts into your throat, dresses it in heat deposited by your breath. “Are you jealous again?”

He doesn’t even get a verbal response to that. Just a heavy glare and two hands squishing his cheeks. “Absolutely not.”

It comes up again in bed, your head on his chest, his hands on your hips. He asks it quietly, conversationally, with a twinkle in his eye that makes you want to smother him with one of his many pillows.

“You’re sure you’re not jealous?”

“I’m not,” you grit, paired with a roll of your eyes and a little snort from your nose. You really aren’t. Those girls are inconsequential, irrelevant. They’ll never amount to what you are to him and that’s just a simple fact. He’s yours - something he reminds you of day in and day out, both verbally and in action.

(You love him for it, appreciate it more than you can possibly begin to explain. There’s a certain bliss to be found in the knowledge that you’re loved. A warmth that rivals even that of the sun on the summer’s hottest day.)

“Then why’re you pouting?” What he really means is why aren’t you smiling. You don’t pout often - at least not in the same ways he does.

“I’m not,” you repeat for what feels like the sixth time.

“Smile for me.”

You do the opposite - throwing your eyes in an exaggerated circle. It earns you a pinch to the side, a tender sting blooming beneath ink-strewn fingers.

“Really—“ When he looks this earnest, it’s hard to deny him, “you’re sure everything’s okay?”

At most, you can sigh perhaps overdramatically. Fold your awkward limbs upon his and bury your face into the crook of his neck. You’re not jealous of those girls, no.

You’re envious of his talent - the simple fact that Jeon Jungkook is, by all definitions, a golden boy. God’s favourite, with his heart wrenching smile and easygoing charm and grace that seems almost surreal. There’s not a single thing wrong with him - okay, except for his bad habit of never answering his phone and always messing up the top sheet and the fact that he absolutely never ever puts the cap back on the toothpaste tube - and it’s absurd. Utterly, absolutely unfair.

But you can’t say that.

“Baby,” he hums, threading the sound of his voice among your hair, tucking the soft syllables behind your ears. “Talk to me.”

You relent - a little. “You’re too good.”

“Too good?” The depth of his laughter rumbles your bones, tickling your insides when it vibrates out of his chest. “At what?”

A hand gesticulates wildly. You’re not sure what it looks like, how close it is to hitting Jungkook in the face. You’ve still got your face pressed to the warmth of his skin, greedily siphoning his sunny radiance with your cheek. “Everything.”

Despite how he laughs - cackles, really, so adorable and high pitched it’s breathy - you know he knows what you’re talking about. You’ve given him a hard time about it before.

“I’m not good at everything, ____.”

He’s somehow even good at making you believe you’re wrong. That’s a feat in and of itself.

“Are too.”

“Are not.”

“Whatever!” Whether he acknowledges it or not, he’s stupidly gifted. Everyone and their - even his - mom knows it. “Don’t believe me then. I don’t care.”

“Then why’re you making that face?” It’s almost comical that he’s calling you out for your expressions when he’s the king of funny faces, throwing his features into exaggerated (and adorable) masks. (Maybe he’d just rubbed off on you?)

“I’m not,” you huff, exasperated but not quite. Still soft over his skin, velvet on silk.

“You’re so cute.” Sometimes, you think he really is just a child - too happy with putting you on a pedestal and praying at your altar. Devoting himself to you when you’re nothing but a bag of flesh and bone, dressed in designer fashion and wrapped up with a satin ribbon made from sarcasm and candor. (Not that you mind. Who would argue if they were offered such love?) “I still think something’s wrong but…”

It’s a smart tactic. He doesn’t press you for an answer, opting to let it linger between you. Settle like bothersome lint until you offer it yourself.

When you relent - because you always do, unable to shut out the sunshine that practically pours out of him - you’re quieter. Not shy, but bashful. Uncertain in a way you very rarely are. “I’ve always wanted to dance.” So much so, you’d begged your parents to enroll you when you were younger. Demanded lessons upon lessons - only to fail at all of them. Rhythm simply didn’t exist anywhere in your body.

“Really?”

You’re pulled from your safe haven, shifted until your entire point of view is filled with Jungkook, his starry eyes and his fluffy fluffy hair. There’s that look he sometimes gets - full of wonder and adoration - when he learns something new about you. As if just the smallest tidbit of knowledge opens up a whole new world.

“Yes?” You’re half regretting the admission. He looks like he’s up to something, all the cogs in his head turning in perfect tandem.

“I’ll teach you.”

“Hard pass.”

Like a hot air balloon, he deflates, mouth rounding sweetly. (If you didn’t know better, you’d assume the man was made of cotton candy, semi-sweet chocolate heart where the real organ should be.) “Why not?”

“I do not dance.” It’s nothing but a statement of fact, firm and unyielding.

The pout evolves, swings down into a frown that drags his eyebrows with it. “You could dance.”

“No, baby—“ So you’re a little frustrated, all your childhood memories pricking beneath your skin. “I do not dance.”

“Why?” He’s upright now, tugging you with him as if you weigh nothing. His way of turning the conversation serious, pulling you from the warmth and comfort of the bedsheets to this. (He’s still holding you, hooking his big broad hands over your hips, so you don’t mind.)

“No rhythm.” Unable to keep a beat. Two left feet. The list could go on and on, according to your ballet instructor.

“Not true.”

Your brow quirks, mirrored by his as if in challenge. You almost swat at him - so close your hand twitches on his shoulder. “Very true.”

(Why does this conversation feel so familiar? It’s déjà vu.)

“Is not.” Your boyfriend seems insistent, as if he knows better than you. (He doesn’t.) Stares up at you with those pretty eyes and has the audacity to grin when you roll your own, ready to rebuff him.

Because you’re in bed, the one place where you defer to him whether you like it or not.

(You do like it, though. Love it, in fact. Just like you love him.)

“You’re graceful,” he hums, bridging the gap between you with a forward roll of his shoulders. “You’ve got rhythm.” The hand on your hip grows firm, guides your knees to spread wide on either side of him. With each brush of his lips - tender little brushes, endlessly sweet and reassuring - he pushes and pulls, dragging you across his lap. “You can do anything you want.”

You’ve almost forgotten the topic of conversation, preoccupied by how he guides you in languid circles. How the cotton of his boxer briefs feels against the sensitive inside of your thighs. The weight that grows between your legs and nudges indelicately against the soft fabric of your thong.

All part of his plan, of course.

“Your body’s the most beautiful thing in the world, ____.”

When he looks at you like this, you think he might be right. You’d believe it if he kept saying it, sparking desire through your limbs until they’re jellied and loose.

(How he sees right through you - cuts straight to the core of your insecurity - you’re not sure. It feels almost like a superpower, something unquantifiable, unbelievable. He’s too good for you, always. So kind and loving, pressing his belief in the form of his mouth, the tender edge of his teeth when he kisses you slow slow slow.)

“You’re perfect just the way you are.”

#anon.eml #incoming.eml #jungkook.doc #work.zip #drabble.zip #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #devil.doc

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bts-hyperfixation · 4 years

Note

heyyy, i really forgot to type them completely hehehe number 32 and 4 with jungkook, smut, angst and fluff. thank youuuu

Love of my life

I'm sorry I think I got carried away...

<2700

Breath-taking. It’s the only word that could be used to describe Jeon Jungkook. You watched as he effortlessly made his way through the crowd at this party he’d invited you to. His smile scrunched his nose as he talked to the other guests currently stood in BigHits offices. You sigh a little when he meets your eyes, signalling that he’ll be over to you as soon as he could get away from the others vying for his attention. It doesn’t take him long to weasel his way out of the droves of people to your perch near the door. He sweeps you into a long hug, cradling you to his hard chest for just a little too long to be friendly.

“Y/N I’m so glad you made it.” You savour the lingering smell of his cologne as he finally releases you and takes you in. You squirm a little under his gaze. “You are a sight for sore eyes! It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.” He is right of course. This comeback had taken a toll on your friendship. Every time you had been free from work, he would be on another press junket. Every time he had managed to worm away early, you had to work or had already been fast asleep by the time his messages came through. It made your heart ache being away from him for so long. You can’t remember how long you’d been pining for Jungkook, but you know it was longer than you’d ever care to admit. Never quite being brave enough to risk it all. Settling instead for brief cuddles and platonic forehead kisses.

“Come on, there is someone I want you to meet.” His words pull you out of your thoughts and you take his hand, willing to follow him anywhere as long as you could hold him like this. He takes you through the crowd to the back of the room. You nod at the other boys as you pass, noticing a look of unease among them as they watched Jungkook drag you to your new destination. He stops you in front of a girl you’re sure you recognised but couldn’t quite place. “Y/N, this is Seo-yeon, my girlfriend.” He looks at you expectantly, that stupid bunny smile playing on his features.

“Hi.” It’s all you can manage. Your mouth suddenly feels like a desert and a knife twists in your stomach. You practically feel your heart shatter as she snakes her arms around his waist. In your worst nightmares you didn’t see this coming. Obviously, one day he would find someone he would be happy with, you just thought you had more time. It hadn’t been that long since you last saw him, maybe two months… maybe three. Certainly not long enough for him to have made a meaningful enough connection to have a serious relationship. You scan her face, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar, and then it hit you.

The last time you had seen Jungkook, you had gone out for dinner, just the two of you. You did it before every come back in preparation for his busy schedule.

“What a lovely couple.” Your waitress had cooed. Heat had risen to your cheeks immediately as you stared down at your empty plate so JK wouldn’t see. He just laughed it off. Chuckled about how you were just ‘good friends’, it hurt, but it was true after all. You didn’t look at the waitress until she was just about to leave with your orders. It was her. The girl that had thought you were together, or now it seems, the girl that was trying to work out if he was single.

“Y/N, are you okay, you’ve gone very pale.” Jungkook’s face fills with concern, his new girl looking on in horror as you collapse to the floor.

You wake up in the familiar relax room of BigHit’s studios, the leather of the sofa is cold against your clammy skin. You grumble and pull the soft blanket covering you up, hiding your face from prying eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” Jungkook crosses the room to your side, wiggling and making room for himself next to your hips. “I was so worried, what happened? Are you okay? Are you eating right?” you would’ve giggled at his overprotective nature had he not been the unassuming cause of your fainting spell. He flipped the covers away from your face, only for you to put them back in place. He smirked at your attempt only to remove the blanket from you completely. You meet his gaze now. Its painful. You struggle to supress the flight response alarm ringing in your mind, not sure you could get more than two feet away from him. You take a deep breath.

“I’m okay, just a little overwhelmed I think.” You force a meek smile, hoping it does enough to quell his worries. It must work because the next moment he pulls you up into his arms and cuddles you in close.

“Good you had me worried.” He looks down at you cradled in his arms and it nearly makes you forget why you’d ended up here in the first place. “Seo-yeon was so worried when you passed out, I’ve told her so much about you. She’s really nice Y/N I think you’ll really like her. Maybe you can try meeting her again when you’re feeling better.” Tears spring in your eyes and you fail to suppress your thoughts.

“You’re in love with her.” Its not a question. You remember the look in his eyes before everything went black, filled with nothing but affection, for her. He looks taken a back at first. Confused about where this was coming from, struggling to comprehend the pain in your expression.

“I don’t know it’s a little too soon to tell…” he trails off and its all the answer you need. Even if he doesn’t realise it, he must be in love with her. You pull out of his grip and move for the door on shaky legs. “Y/N where are you going? Talk to me”. His hand curls around your wrist as you reach for the doorknob.

“I can’t, not about this, not now.” Your voice is as unsteady as your feet. Tears roll freely down your cheeks as you turn your face out of his view. “Go back and enjoy the party, I’m going to go home, I’ll text you when I feel better.” You try to pull out of his grip again but this time he holds tight.

“If you think I’m letting you go anywhere this upset, you don’t know me like you think you do.” His tone is light, but he sounds off, like he is holding something back. He uses his leverage to pull you back into him, smothering your wet face into his previously pristine white shirt. “Tell me what’s wrong or neither of us get to leave.” The threats empty and you know it. He must be dying to get back to the party, to her.

“Just drop it Kookie, you don’t want to know and I’m not ready to tell you.” Your voice is muffled by his chest, but he seems to get the memo, releasing you immediately.

“I just want to help.” He looks so defeated, like a puppy whose been told off for chewing his toys too much. You can’t help yourself as you reach out to cup his cheek. He nuzzles into your familiar warmth and you grant a smile, even if it’s only a little one.

“I’m sorry Kook, I didn’t mean to upset you too, it’s just…” you take a deep sigh, trying to compose yourself. “Meeting her was just too much for me.” You will him to catch the meaning in your tone, to understand why you needed to leave. For a moment you think he gets it, his face softens and lips part like he is going to speak… and then he doesn’t. The wo of you stand then in uncomfortable silence for a while, unsure of your next step. “I should go, you should go back, your one of the guests of honour, we can talk about this tomorrow, if you still want to speak to me at all.” You make one more attempt to leave, pushing passed a frozen Jungkook and into the hallway. You make your way to the back exit and into the night.

You walk through the streets of Seoul, cursing yourself for not having the forethought to bring a coat, but you had stupidly assumed that you would be going home with him. A movie night and a sleepover are customary after a comeback… were customary. Tears streak down your face, no energy left to fight them back. You’re three blocks away when you hear him call for you. You don’t stop. You can’t. he has always been fast though; it takes him no time to catch up to you.

“Y/N, please stop.” His voice breathy from running after you. He drapes a jacket of his around your shoulders and falls into step beside you. “You can’t just tell me something like that and run off… I’m not entirely sure I know what you’ve told me, but god do I hope its what I’m thinking because it feels like I have waited all my life for you.” You stop dead and swallow hard, desperately trying to organise the thoughts in your head that are running a mile a minute. You whip around to face him, the biggest question in your mind taking precedence over the rest.

“What is that supposed to mean?” your eyes search his face, trying desperately to find a hint of a joke, work out exactly what he thinks he is doing, what he hopes to achieve by saying these things to you.

“It’s supposed to mean I’m in love with you, I have been for the longest time and if there is even the slightest chance I can have you instead of anyone else I’m going to take it.” His hands fall either side of your face, pulling your lips to his. You let him take control, stunned into silence by his response. All thoughts of his girlfriend slipped from your mind. You reach up and grab his collar, using it to tug him closer. Close wasn’t close enough when you’d waited so long. Your breathing is heavy as you separate, foreheads resting against each other. He rubs his cold nose across yours and grins. The knowledge that that grin was just for you made your stomach flip.

“Come home with me.” You breathe out. Jungkook is not a man that needs to be told twice, grabbing your hand, and running in the direction of your apartment. He takes off so fast you nearly lose the jacket he had wrapped around you.

The run to your home doesn’t take long. You fumble with your keys to unlock the door, missing a few times as his hands traced up your sides. Once its open he lifts you into his arms and carries you over the threshold, kicking the door closed behind him. He deposits you on the sofa before climbing onto your lap and removing his shirt. He presses kisses along your jawline and down your neck, nibbling softly in sensitive areas. Its then that his phone starts to vibrate. He grumbles an apology and turns off the ring, dumping the phone on the table. He tries to return to his ministrations, reaching for the hem of your shirt, but the phone rings again and this time you see the screen lit up perfectly. Lit up perfectly with her picture, actually a picture of the two of them squished together as she kisses his cheek. You push at his chest forcing him to sit back on his heels as you wriggle out from underneath him.

“We can’t do this, at least not now.” There’s that look again, the one that looks like you kicked him. “We can’t start our relationship when you are still with her. Jungkook I love you but I’m not willing to hurt somebody else to be with you, not like that.”

“We aren’t starting like that. I broke up with her at the party Y/N, put in an uber and ran after you, its what took me so long. Like I said, if there was even a chance of us being together, I couldn’t be with anyone else.” You frown at him but feel your resolve slipping away. “Please just ignore it.” He reaches to place kisses on your face. “I’ll turn it off, we never have to think about her again.” His hands fall to the hem of your shirt once more and this time he is successful in his removal. His finger trail along your naked back before reaching the clasp on your bra. You shed the offending lace just in time for his tongue to find its way to your nipples. You moan at the feeling, head tumbling back at the thought of what else that tongue could do to you. He matched your moan with a whine of his own and you couldn’t take it anymore. He sounded so needy, so sexy you knew you had to have him. You undid the fly on his jeans and helped him drag them over his hips, you mouth watered at the sight of his growing bulge. As soon as his jeans hit the floor you were straddling his lap. You grind your still clothed pussy against the thin material of his boxers teasing him gently. A fatal mistake on your part. Next thing you know you are looking at his bum upside down as he carries you in a fireman’s lift to your bedroom, making quick work of your pants and underwear on the way. He dumps you on the bed and you scramble to your knees, eager to have your hands back on him.

You start at his chest, running your thumbs over his nipples and watching him shiver before moving to cup his package. Your thumbs run around the waistband of his boxers before lowering them to reveal his mouth-watering cock. As you go to play with his naked member he growls, flipping onto all fours. Your surprised by the sudden force, even more surprised as you feel his fingers snake between your legs, followed closely by his mouth. He laps at your folds as his fingers move to play with your clit. You push back, desperate to feel every inch of him.

“Kookie don’t tease, I need you now.” Your voice is whiny, setting Jungkook off in a way he didn’t know he was capable of. Its animalistic. The speed in which he lines himself and thrusts deep inside of you is unreal. You choke at the intrusion, trying to adjust to the new stretch in your pussy. It burns as he starts to move but you can’t find it in you to care. It just feels so right, and the pain hurts so good. One arm pulls you up into his chest as the other rubs figure eights into your clit. Your orgasm hits much sooner than you expect. Rippling through you as he keeps thrusting through the aftershocks. You feel yourself collapsing into him, glad to have his strong arms keeping you pressed against him as he chased his own high. It isn’t long before he cums deep inside of you. You collapse in a heap of limbs not even wasting time for him to pull out as you cuddle close, content to stay tangled together forever.

Masterlist

These writing prompts

#bts fic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts kinktober #jungkook smut #jjk smut #jeon jungkook smut #bts jeongkook #100

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cyhyr · 3 years

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo: "I Have You Now, My Pretty"

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: 1430

Warnings: Rape/Non-con; Graphic Depictions of Violence

Notes: Oral sex, collars, shock collars, chains, muzzles, bathing, creepy/possessive whumper, female whumper, unnamed whumper, choking, vaginal sex, angsty fluff, whumper death

A/N: @jhatakeumino requested this one! It was tricky to get the creepy whump line and the request to also work in lots of KakaIru, but all in all I think it's pretty solid. J, I hope it's to your liking!

A/N2: Everything is under the Break because it's Bad From The Start.

Kakashi would like nothing more than to rip this woman’s throat out with his teeth, or to light up a Raikiri and slice off a hand—or both! Or perhaps her legs, right at the knees! Fuck he’s not picky.

But she’s got Iruka. And Iruka won’t fight back. Not while she also has Kakashi in this fucking metal collar with its spikes biting into his neck, his wrists chained behind his back, and worst of all this horrible leather muzzle around his face complete with a bit between his teeth.

She’s got Iruka kneeling between her thighs, licking at her core like he wants nothing more than to pleasure her, and she coos things to him like, “Oh, honey, you’re so pretty like this,” and, “You like this, don’t lie to yourself; such a wonderful man doing this for me.”

Kakashi knows better; can see the tears Iruka’s holding back while he eats her out. In one of her hands is a remote which controls the collar on Kakashi’s throat. Iruka had tried to tell her no half an hour ago when this started, and she promptly turned the dial on the remote and sent electricity into his neck. Kakashi had been unable to cry out, and held in his pained gasps after the shocks turned off, but when she threatened to switch the dial back on, Iruka begged for her to not hurt him and, well.

“I really should just dispose of him,” she muses. She pulls Iruka away from her cunt by his hair, causing him to whimper and Kakashi to see red and growl. “What do you think, honey? I know I’m ready for us to be alone. I’ve been so patient with you.” She pushes her fingers through the slick Iruka has on his lips and chin, dips them into his mouth and runs her nails over his teeth.

Iruka whimpers, shakes his head.

She snarls, yanks his hair and pulls his head back between her legs. “Someday you’ll thank me for this,” she snaps. “Get back to work.” She sighs as the noises of him slurping at her cunt continues, and she pets his hair. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty,” she hums.

Her downfall is that, while she likes hurting Kakashi and humiliating Iruka, she doesn’t like having either of them be dirty for too long; and she won’t clean them herself, or have a bodyguard or someone else do it for her. And so, every morning and every evening Kakashi and Iruka are given free reign of a supposedly safe, breakout-free bathroom.

At the same time.

As if she expects Iruka to remain “faithful” to her???

So Kakashi takes his time with Iruka and reminds him who he is and whose he is and kisses him gently and cleans away her touch with his own. And in return, Iruka treats his wounds and kisses his bruises and washes the taste of her out of his mouth with Kakashi’s own release.

In-between, they plot. They plan. And they hold each other tight and reaffirm that they will make it out of here alive and well.

She puts a collar on Iruka a week into their stay, white leather with a silver buckle she says looks “fetching” against his skin. “Like coffee and cream!” she squeals, and Kakashi holds back a smirk because she has no idea what she’s just gotten herself into with that comment. Iruka hates being compared to food.

And he’s just about reached the limit of what he can take with this woman. Kakashi told him this morning not to worry about the shock collar, that they’d finally fiddled with it enough that he’s pretty sure it won’t hurt him should she try and use it. With the shock collar no longer a significant issue, and the woman growing inattentive in her chaining and muzzling, Kakashi waits for Iruka to make the first move.

Because Iruka has to make the first move.

Iruka’s the one in real danger here.

Kakashi’s just getting hurt. Iruka’s being tortured.

She puts her foot on his thigh like she owns him and gods Kakashi is eager for this show to start. Maybe she had Iruka on the way to breaking the first few days here, but Kakashi fixed all that in the bathroom over the last three days. Then she tightens the collar until it bites into his neck, and then pulls it even tighter.

Before Iruka can react beyond reaching instinctively for his neck and tipping his head back so he can breathe, she buckles it and slips a padlock around the fucking thing so it stays that tight, and then kicks Iruka away onto his back. He’s gasping, heaving for breath, turning purple fast.

Kakashi is muffled as he cries out Iruka’s name and struggles against the chains. He pulses his chakra, trying to break through. It doesn’t work—fuck why won’t it work??? She’s been lax! She didn’t chain him nearly as well as she did the first few days. What the fuck—

She stands over Iruka and puts her boot on his stomach. “Get your hands off that collar before I kneecap your boy,” she seethes.

Iruka’s hands fall away, but he still sobs, gasping and tearing up.

“You’re mine,” she says. “I trusted you! And you go and let that thing touch you every day when I’m gracious enough to let you have time to yourself to clean up for me.”

Kakashi stops moving. Shit. He thought they’d been alone. Shitshitshit—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty like this,” she coos. “Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. Better than that ever could.” She tugs down her underwear from under her skirt and throws them onto Iruka’s face.

No. No, she hasn’t gone this far before.

Please don’t make me watch this

She reaches down and undoes Iruka’s pants, slips them over his hips. She doesn’t even seem to care that he’s not hard, she just sits herself down astride him and moans anyway. She leans over him and tries to kiss him and he gags, wheezes.

“That’s a fun sound,” she giggles. She starts humping away atop him and Kakashi can’t look away it’s a fucking nightmare and he can’t save Iruka and she’s rolling her hips and Iruka’s gasping for dear life and he can’t look away. “Make it again.” She presses a hand to the center of Iruka’s chest.

“Oh, oh, oh! Oh fuck yes!”

Kakashi watches Iruka turn his eyes to him, struggle for one last breath, and then go still. His lips are blue.

She orgasms.

Kakashi holds Iruka’s unconscious body in the bathroom, cleaning him gently. He’s been warned of what will happen if he touches Iruka in any way she doesn’t like. He’s also been warned about loosening the collar—though she did loosen it herself a little after she finished her afterglow.

Iruka wakes slowly as he’s washing her come off his thighs. He shivers in Kakashi’s arms and holds back tears, and when he tries to nuzzle into his neck Kakashi—against every instinct he has—pushes him away.

“It’ll be worse if you do that.”

“I won’t make it through this if I don’t,” Iruka murmurs. “Please, please let me have you.”

“You always have me,” Kakashi whispers. He brings the washcloth up to Iruka’s chest and rests his palm along his heart. “Here.”

Iruka cries silently in his arms and Kakashi can’t offer any more comfort than what he’s giving now.

It won’t stand.

It can’t.

Kakashi doesn’t let her take Iruka again. When she comes for them after their cleansing time, he sets Iruka aside and stands between them. She snarls at him and tells him to sit, like a dog; motioning command and everything. This time, he can’t let her muzzle him, or chain him, and when she desperately turns the dial on the shock collar as high as it goes, he twitches with the shocks but continues his advance.

“I-I’ll kill him!” she screams.

“You love him,” he sneers back. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Then he makes the hand-seals for his raikiri, flashes the meagre distance, and puts his hand through her neck.

See how she likes a shock collar.

He takes Iruka home. It takes months of reacclimation to get Iruka to not flinch at the words “pretty” or “honey”.

Kakashi smothers him in kind words and medicinal lotion until Iruka’s his again.

And the day comes, eventually, when Kakashi can stand behind Iruka and wrap his arms around him, and whisper, “I have you now, my pretty,” and Iruka doesn’t flinch.

They get through it. Together.

#bad things happen bingo #I have you now my pretty #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #kakairu #my writing

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littlegrrl7 · 3 years

Text

A Dance for Three

Ikemen Vampire Big Bang 2021

Pairing: Comte/Leonardo/MC

Smut with plot 18+ NSFW

Masterlist for 7 chapters 17k words

read on Ao3

Chapter 1- Mornings

This was the best way to wake in the morning…

Niamh stretched sleepily, her eyes opening to the shadows of branches reaching across the wall in the early light of the day. She was puzzled for a moment by the absence of Comte, but then his weight shifted the mattress, and the silkiness of his honey-blond hair caressed her inner thighs. She gasped when she felt the heat of his tongue glide teasingly over her folds, seeking to go deeper.

Niamh swept the covers aside so she could gaze down at her lover. His one hand splayed over her stomach. Comte’s greedy mouth sucked her flesh to a swollen, sensitive bead of desire.

Lust darkened amber eyes glanced up to meet hers, and a smile tugged at his lips.

“Good morning, ma chérie.” A gust of hot breath brushed against her flesh at the join of her hip.

She sighed in languid pleasure. “It is. You’ll spoil me, mon cœur,” Niahm teased, her back involuntarily arching to him as he sucked once again on her tempting bud.

“I am certain you will somehow endure,” he murmured against her passion slicked skin. Comte’s fangs dragged along her flesh, sending tiny thrills through her body. How she loved the way he made her feel, special, cherished, loved. He spoiled her with how much love and support he brought into her life. She never regretted staying in this time with Comte and loving him with every bit of herself that she could.

Niamh trembled under him, and he raised his body to gift her with another devilish smile. His fingers reached up to toy with one taut nipple, the peak turning a deep cherry color. Purring in appreciation, he moved to the other. She moaned, twisting under his admiring gaze. She thought after a few months, these types of mornings would become rare; instead, it seemed to be his favorite way to herald the dawn, as if he held each day with her as a sacred gift.

The flat of his tongue dragged a long, slow path up her slit, and her groans echoed in their room, a welcomingly familiar melody. Niamh’s hands feathered through his hair then gripped insistently as he buried his face in her deeper. His name was a breathless moan on her lips. He nibbled and sucked, teasing another sweet song from her before finally sliding a long, pale finger into her depths. She pressed against him with a pleading noise. Comte leaned back to watch the myriad of expressions flit over her features. His thumb strummed a tender rhythm against her swollen flesh.

“Comte, you tease…” Her hips undulated pleadingly. Skillful fingers stroked inside her, curling and thrusting.

“Am I?” He nuzzled into her golden coppery curls, breathing in that delicious musk of feminine arousal.

Niamh twisted under him, gasping as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Slowing the strokes, Comte built the tension within her. His lips brushed over her hips, then moved to worship her navel. She sighed as those first soft ripples took her. Vampire or not, he was a very skillful lover. She didn’t need the gift of pleasure his bite would bring, but she knew it was coming. Fangs dropped to drag in sinful temptation over her flesh. He’d drink from her soon; he did almost every time they made love. Comte would draw it out with teasing first, making her plead and beg. He adored those high-pitched, breathy squeals that would come when she was teetering on edge.

“You are,” Niamh breathed out, biting down on the fullness of her lower lip as another tremor shook her. She gazed down at Comte, nestled between her thighs. So beautiful, he looked more angel than man. His lithe, pale body twisted to move up hers. Comte's eyes flashed almost gold, and he grazed her nipple with his fangs causing her to clench on his finger. He chuckled, that deep seductive sound thrummed through her, and he slid in another. His tongue stroked in time with those questing fingers, covering her nipple in light, feathery strokes. Niahm's cries grew pleading for something harder, for release. He shifted again, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. His mouth played at the soft, tender skin there, his bites from the previous evening barely healed.

Niamh moaned, straining against him. Comte softly kissed each mark, each proclamation of his love, each declaration that she was his. Her hips raised, grinding against his hand, seeking more.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against her throat, his hot breath caressing the shell of her ear. He heard her sharp intake of breath, lifted his gaze to see her cheeks flaming crimson. Still so sweetly shy, it tugged at his heart.

“How can I please you if I don’t know what you desire? I guess I’ll just,” he thumbed the swollen hood of her clit back then flicked the firmly nubbed flesh making her squeal, “hold you on the cusp until you remember how to use your words.”

Amber eyes watched her, his grin sly. Niahm’s jaw clenched, trying to squeeze out a coherent sentence between gasping moans. She licked her lips, and Comte could barely restrain himself from exploring her mouth until she was limp with pleasure.

“I want you.”

“As evidenced.” He pulled his fingers out, coated in her juices. Watching Niamh, his tongue lapped along the slick skin, savoring her taste. She clenched her thighs together, already missing him inside her.

“Filling me. I need you kissing my mouth. To taste you. To taste me on you,” Niahm's voice was husky and edged with lust. Comte leaned forward, his lips a breath away from hers.

“Like this?” His tongue flitted out to slide along the sweet plushness of her lower lip. She tried to entice his tongue in with hers; he allowed the barest whisper of a touch. His hand ghosted back down her ribs, cupping her breast then lower to stroke the swell of her hip. Niamh melted against him, pliant in his hands.

“More?” She curved one leg up around his slender hip, grinding her sex along his length. Comte growled low against her lips, then deepened the kiss. He turned her in his arms, cradling her back to his chest. Comte’s lips traced over each mark on her neck, his tongue lapping at them like a flame. He pulled one leg back over his hip, sliding the head of his cock over her slick skin.

“Is this what you want, ma chérie?”

The curve of her ass fit deliciously into the firmness of his hip; she writhed back against him, pushing him into her.

“It’s a good start,” she panted.

Comte’s soft laugh whispered against the curve of Niamh’s neck, fangs lengthened to drag a passionate path along her flesh. Slow lazy thrusts punctuated by tender kisses set a sensual rhythm. Skillful hands cupped her heavy, aching breasts. Comte caressed her sensitive nipples until Niamh's gasping breaths sung in his ears.

The sweet smell of her lilac perfume mingled with the rich scent of her lust. The vampire nuzzled into his lover’s soft flesh, inhaling deeper. He loved waking to her in the morning, her warm body next to his, begging for his touch. Comte lost himself in her breathy cries, rhythmically thrusting into her soft depths. The feel of her firm bottom pressing insistently back against him tore a low moan from his throat.

Niamh’s sweet, panting pleas grew louder. His fingers traced down her flesh, stroking her hip, then slipped between her thighs to fondle her into a wild frenzy.

“Comte, please-“ the rest of what Niamh said got lost in a hoarse cry, smothered into the pillows. Her body squeezed tight around his in sensual bliss, and he spilled soon after, relishing the way she milked every last drop from him. He slid against her silken clutch well after he had started to go soft, still enjoying the sensation of being inside her—the enticing pulse of her along his length.

“I love you.” Comte placed a small kiss behind her ear.

“Mmm, I love you too. That was a wonderful way to wake up,” Niamh glanced at the wall clock across the room, “However, Sebastian will likely skin me alive if I’m not down to serve breakfast in ten minutes.” The last words slipped out on a groan of remorse.

“You could stay here with me, ma chérie. I would never let you come to harm.” He enfolded her in his arms, fingers stroking lightly over the alluring softness of her body.

“While that is tempting, I should get up to help,” Niamh grumbled out, pushing herself out of bed to rise.

“Niamh, you know you can choose to do something else if you find the house tasks no longer to your tastes?” Comte propped himself up on one arm, watching her quickly wash off and dress. The light gleamed off her plush curves, highlighting the reddened marks he had left on her neck. Her nipples were still that deep cherry color. Comte watched her breasts bounce enticingly as she pulled on her clothes. It was tempting to make his lover late, to spend the entire day in their bed.

“I know, I’m still considering our talk. But until you hire more maids, it is what it is.” She bent over, placing a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek. Comte swept Niamh up, dragging her back into their bed for a deeper taste. His lips moved over her like a man starved. Niamh’s protest died as she returned his affection, her tongue sliding against his in a wicked dance.

“If it were up to you, we would never leave the bedroom,” she teased, placing a tender kiss on his forehead. Her eyes were warm with the love she had for him. Comte cupped her cheek, his thumb tracing the plushness of her lower lip.

“And the downside of that would be?” He grinned as she attempted to get up, tightening his hold.

“You beast! Let me go! If I’m late, I’ll receive such a forehead flick from that silver-haired jerk that I’ll look like a unicorn.” Her laughter carried out into the hall as Niahm left him. Comte fell back into the sheets breathing in the luscious scent of their lovemaking. Glancing at the clock, he then closed his eyes; there was time to enjoy this luxury.

The scent moved around Leonardo, elusive as an ungranted wish. It drifted on the breeze from the open window, mingling with the sweet smell of fluffy pancakes and the spice of the roasted breakfast sausages. Oh, it was an undeniably familiar scent.

He inhaled deeper as Niamh finished serving breakfast and sat down across from him to eat.

“Good morning, Leo.” Her smile was pure sunshine. The light behind her spun her strawberry blond hair into silken coppery fire. Again, he regretted choosing to keep his distance from her, his excuse that their lives were far too different. He regretted only having that one taste of her. The first night she arrived, he had kissed her to calm her hysteria.

Oh, the taste of Niamh. Sweet as the spring, warm and gentle as a summer day. He longed to taste her again, but knew no good could come of it. He had seen her interest and brushed it off. He thought she would be gone in a month. That she would return to her life, find a man to love who could grow old with her.

A poor, bitter thing cried inside his soul, broken and wanting.

“Cara mia, you are looking particularly lovely this morning.” He let his eyes rove over her pouty swollen lips, the way her blouse was primly buttoned to the collar. A lace-edged scarf wrapped her neck—no doubt to cover lover’s marks from Comte.

The pain thumped in his chest again.

A sweet flush rose on her cheeks. Niamh shifted, and he saw her slight wince. Not one of pain but one that reminded her how much pleasure she had experienced recently. He could smell the musk of lovemaking still clinging to her flesh.

It could have been him. His heart thudded dully.

Leonardo’s eyes again returned to her face to see she was studying him, a look that was not entirely innocent. It was obvious she had been in Comte’s arms no more than an hour ago, and yet that was interest in her gaze.

He licked his lips and watched Niamh’s beautiful sky-blue eyes track the motion.

She glanced down again, breaking the soul-rending contact. Her hand fidgeted a moment, then picked up her coffee cup for a sip. Leo's eyes dropped to her hand. He remembered holding it as he told her they couldn’t be together. The night he broke her heart. Niamh’s tears had felt like acid as each one soaked through his shirt to burn into his skin. It was just over a year ago. He had expected her to go back to her own time, to leave and live her life.

“Good morning, Leonardo.” Comte finished fastening his cufflink as he came into the dining room, then leaned into Niamh for a lingering kiss.

Christ, he smelled amazing—that mix of leather polish and black tea, male musk, and the faintest trace of feminine arousal. Leonardo exhaled and put that relaxed smile on his face.

“Late start there today, Comte?” He grinned wolfishly. The blond flashed a grin back.

“I had some things I needed to attend to this morning.”

A wink.

Leonardo remembered those mornings, lying in Comte’s bed, the two of them twined together as the sun rose. Feeling that pleasurable ache the next day.

That was the rub of it. The two men had been casual lovers. If Leonardo had known when he gave up Niamh that he would lose Comte's comfort, would his choice had been different?

Leo studied his friend for a moment, a sigh escaping him. He did miss the man’s bed.

Comte raised a brow, giving him a questioning look.

“Heading into town. Can I get either of you anything?” Leonardo rose from the table. He’d had enough torture for one morning. He should look into moving into his own place. The idea of watching the glow of the two of them for the next few decades twisted his gut. And if Comte turned Niamh, it would go on for centuries.

“Would you like company? I believe Niamh is off work for the rest of the day.” Comte said in an offhanded manner. Niamh popped a strawberry in her mouth, Leo’s eyes once again went to the softness of her lips, imagining them doing the naughtiest things. He blinked.

Comte watched him appraisingly, then his amber eyes flitted back to his lover.

“I’m busy all day, so I’m afraid I can’t join the two of you.” Comte rested a hand on Niamh’s shoulder, squeezing gently, “Ma chérie, I’m sure Leonardo would be happy for your company.”

What the hell?

Leo’s eyes widened, then he covered up the look as Niamh made a little questioning noise. Comte knew what had happened. He was the one that soothed the woman after Leo rejected her. Sure, they had remained friends, but his heart still ached. He wasn’t surprised when she took up with Comte; he was surprised when she decided to stay.

“Certainly, I could always use the company.” Traitorous lips. This was going to be a torturous hell spending a day alone with her. He had done his best in the last year to melt into the background, to be impartial to watch the two of them from afar.

He hadn’t visited a maison in years, but the idea was beginning to sound like a good one. He might need it after this day. If his balls didn’t rot straight to blue and fall off.

“Alright, have fun, mon cœur.” Comte brushed a light kiss to the top of Niamh’s head before walking around the table to Leonardo. He leaned close, his breath caressing Leo’s neck. It reminded him of nights spent in the other man’s embrace. The way his teeth would graze his flesh, fangs teasingly scraping over his flat nipples before piercing skin, bringing that wave of erotic pleasure.

“Take good care of her, Leonardo.” Comte patted his shoulder then trailed one finger over the width of his back as he left the room. A shiver of pleasure galloped down Leonardo’s spine.

“I will.”

#ikevampbigbang #ikevamp le comte #ikevamp leonardo #smut with plot

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jjpmoans · 4 years

Text

First Love | pjy

wc : 1.3k

warnings : fluffs

a/n : I finally got to write something I hope I can write more urgh this is frustrating. Have a little fluff!

"Nooooo!" The echo of your voice resonates in the nearly empty room, again for the nth time. The subject of your scolding didn't even acknowledge your attempt to stop her, instead still marching on fours towards her target.

When she reaches the same book shelf that she has been trying to bring down over and over again, you inwardly sigh. You love your daughter, really. You love her and you'll trade everything for her.

However you're tired of her energy, crawling all over the places being the little monster she is. This is just one of all her antics in the house. The room was once equipped with almost every baby toy you could find but now that she has reached the crawling stage, you decided that you should save the poor toys from being destroyed.

"Baby, no.." you plead again as your daughter's grabby hand reaches the books on the shelf, bringing two books down at one time. If only her daddy is strict towards her... "Mommy is tired, sweetheart. Have mercy on me."

You sigh while tugging her hand and bring her away from the shelf to reprimand her. However instead of coming with you easily, she wiggles out of your hold and crawls again to the same crime scene.

"Oh god.." she's that age. You thought you'd probably have to deal with this when she's a teen but it looks like she is even harder to deal when she's a baby. You want to give up.

Just as you slump against the wall and figure out how you can take her away from the book shelf, the door creaks open and shows your husband smiling at you as he meets your eyes.

You really want to reply to him with the same energy but you just want to cry seeing him because finally, finally he's home.

"Oh." is his only reply as Jinyoung rushes to you when he sees you're about to cry, cradling your head to his chest. "No no why baby? Why are you so exhausted?"

You need no word, just a glance towards the little monster that he loves and that explains everything. He knows how much a headache his 'little angel'- that's what he calls her- can be whenever he's away. It seems like he is the only one that can control her and he acknowledges that quite proudly, having his own daughter head over heels for him.

Carefully, Jinyoung thread your hair, smiling again while his hand travels to give you quick massages on your waist and your legs. A few squeeze and he hugs you tight before kissing on top of your head, grins and leaves you to rest.

You watch him slowly creep behind your daughter and squat down, watching her destroying his book collection with much interest. You don't know how he can stand and control her but you know she is whipped for Jinyoung as you are. Jinyoung is surprisingly good at handling babies even if they turn out bitchy, something you didn't expect despite knowing his love towards kids. You love kids too but handling your own is too exhausting. You don't want to imagine how a mother raises twins and triplets. They must be chaotic.

"Hey little angel." He finally says hello after a few minutes watching her, eyes sparkling in excitement. Jinyoung loves your daughter. More than you did. He loves every single temper of hers, always smiling even when she throws tantrums. To him those are the moments where he will cherish the most. Every firsts for her. "Daddy is back."

Hushed words but still caught her attention.

Your daughter turns to him, beaming when she finds her daddy squatting behind her with open arms. Toddling on her wobbly legs, she takes two steps and falls into Jinyoung's arms, all giggly and happy.

As if the sound of her happy giggle is a cure, your exhaustion is washed away seeing her wide gummy smile, rubbing against Jinyoung's dress shirt. You remember this is why you want to give Jinyoung a child. You want to see this every day, every single time. You want to witness such a soft moment that no one can recreate.

Your husband gathers her in his arm, snuggling his nose against her overflowing pink cheeks which result in another burst of giggles filling the room. Your heart just swells at their interaction, the best thing you can ever give Jinyoung. A little human.

A replica of himself.

A little nyoungie.

You love to watch him pouring his adoration on your angel. Every time he makes your daughter giggle, another part of you melts with them. You feel contented. You feel like you choose the right man, the right daddy for your child.

"I heard you made mommy tired." she doesn't understand. She can't understand just yet, in every logic. But your daughter is smart, something she got from her daddy. At the sound of your husband interrogating her, she whips her head to you, sending another gummy and toothy smile. She even adds a wink then proceeds to giggle with Jinyoung.

You know that is a trick whenever she wants to run away from being scolded. She will grin and winks and Jinyoung will be a putty in her hand.

However this time, it feels like Jinyoung is more stern than before, not giving in to her antics. He holds her by her armpit, making her stand straight. "Nuh-uh baby. Daddy is not letting you out of this talk."

As if she can sense the disappointment in Jinyoung's voice, her head droops and her heavy cheeks fall. She even blinks for a few times but cowers under Jinyoung's scrutinizing eyes. Even babies are afraid of his judging eyes, you cannot blame her. Jinyoung is a bit scary when he's serious.

However she is just 11 months and probably didn't understand why he got mad. So you jump to the rescue, calling him out. "Nyoung..."

"Nope. Don't you say anything."

Your baby pouts, her eyes starting to waver and about to cry. He knows this, he wants her to be completely aware that it is not good to make you tired. So he closes their distance, hugging her to his chest as she whimpers slightly. "I love you, baby. Daddy loves you."

"But you cannot do that to mommy. She's tired from taking care of you."

The soft whimper stops, tiny hands holding to his biceps for support. Jinyoung nuzzles his nose into her cheeks again, pressing a kiss and pulling away. "Give a kiss to mommy to say you're sorry okay?"

Sweeping her growing hair to the side, Jinyoung lets her toddles to you, eyes apologetic as he made his own daughter cries. You know it is hard for him, he loves her so much that he can't bear watching her cry.

As soon as she reaches you, your daughter climbs your lap and opens her mouth wide, smooching her saliva on your cheeks. She wiggles a few times, still smothering her so-called love as an apology.

"Thank you, baby." you caress her cheeks when she sits down, watching your beautiful baby that you and Jinyoung made with love. "Mommy is not tired anymore."

Sometimes you just wonder how she understands such things. Emotions, instructions, does she understand it or she just mindlessly does whatever her routine is? Because as soon as you utter those words, she climbs off your lap and runs away, quickly crawling towards your husband and plops herself comfortably in his lap.

Both you and Jinyoung are stunned at her move, Jinyoung on the other hand bursts out laughing upon seeing her hugging him close and being lovey dovey as if she didn't just shimmy away from her own mom.

"I guess we know who she loves the most." Jinyoung's laughter resonates again when she attacks him with kisses, leaving you out of their love session. You are used to it, you don't even care anymore.

At least you know, her first love is her own daddy, the one that you love too.

[ Writings ]

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keiziahknight1886 · 4 years

Text

Alive: to Live is to Love

[A Detroit: Become Human, Markus x reader story]

Chapter 5

Epilogue: Their Road to Happiness

(I have no idea about laws and stuff so I'm only going to write this as politically correct as I am capable of so please don't hate me if I get the whole thing wrong)

xX0Xx

There were many reasons why Markus was so keen on getting android equal rights.

One was so that androids can be treated equally while having their own housing and property to their names, another was so that they could be legally registered as official citizens with their own names and not just models and numbers, one more is so that they could vote for whoever they want to elect and have the choices that were granted for the humans as well.

There were many reasons why Markus wanted to settle all their rights together and of course all of this was for the stability of his people but one particular human rights he wanted for androids as well was something very close to his own personal reasons.

The rights of android marriage.

Although there were no rules for his kind when it came to love and happiness the thought of being legally bound to someone and them being called your spouse was something Markus really liked.

He absolutely loved the idea that the only woman he cherished more than anything in this world would be called his and only his.

Call him possessive or whatnot but the thought of Y/n walking out their door with a ring on her finger signifying that she only belongs to him and he only belongs to her was more than enough reason for him to actually put it on his list of rights that should be immediately approved.

Markus went and proposed this to his council and they all looked at him with knowing smiles, especially Simon since he was well aware of how Markus was dying to propose to Y/n.

It was a grueling and long process for the androids to get their equal rights and after that things shifted to third gear.

Everything became political after that and as far as Markus knew he wasn't designed to know anything about politics but, a perk of being an android was having extensive knowledge so, although he wasn't originally programmed to be a political figure, he had to become one for the sake of his people.

Coming home mentally exhausted had become a norm for Markus and he was always thankful when he entered his home to find his beloved waiting to welcome him and listen to all his complaints.

Sometimes he felt bad for Y/n since he would rant about his stressful job over and over again but she would often remind him that she personally liked hearing him talk and speak about his troubles and she told him that it made her feel involved in all aspects of his life.

Markus was always so thankful for Y/n and her kind understanding so, he pushed forward everyday and worked hard since he had the person he loved behind his back.

"I'm home." He called out and soon Y/n's figure came out of the kitchen door as he hung his coat.

"Welcome home." She smiled and pressed quick a kiss on his lips.

Markus wrapped his arms around Y/n's figure and held her tight, a sigh came out of his lips earning a giggle from the woman and she wrapped her arms around him and she gently rubbed his back.

"Tired?"

"Very."

Y/n chuckled a bit before leading Markus to one of the couches in the living room and gently pushed him to sit down, Markus had been accustomed to this action and turned his body to the side of the couch where he lifted his legs towards the armrest and let it dangle from there. Y/n then sat down behind him and gently pulled Markus to where his back met her chest and her arms lazily found its way around his.

This had been common for the two ever since Markus got more work load with handling everything that revolved around human-android relations. This was their downtime and Markus completely understood why humans wanted to take breaks so much.

"So, tell me all about it." Y/n spoke as she nuzzled her cheek on Markus' head.

Markus let out a content sigh as one of his hands found its way on hers and gently held them.

"Let's talk about something else, I wouldn't like it if we just talk about my problems all of the time."

"Didn't I tell you that I'm okay with hearing whatever it is you're going through? I know what you're going through is rough so letting you vent is the least I could do."

Markus smiled as he heard her words, he felt so lucky to have someone like Y/n with him. Not only did she love and accept him for who and what he is but she's willing to do everything she could to help him and that's more than what he could have ever hoped for.

"Did I ever tell you how amazing you are?"

"Only everyday we're on this earth, Markus. Frankly though, you're the amazing one here since you're doing all of this." She smiled and hugged him closer to her and he melted even more at her touch.

"Behind every great man is a greater woman and I'm glad that it's you."

Y/n smiled lovingly at Markus and she couldn't help but tighten her hold on him.

"Everything alright?" He asked and she only smiled in return.

"I just love you so much." Y/n replied in a loving tone and this made Markus even happier.

"I love you too, Y/n. More than words can express."

They both took a moment to relax and enjoy each other's company when a loud noise came from the kitchen and alerted the two immediately.

"Oh no, my pasta!"

Y/n quickly scrambled away from their position and Markus couldn't help but laugh at his beloved's actions.

His thoughts went back to the android marriage law that he wanted to implement and when the thought of Markus finally being able to call Y/n his wife came back to him he couldn't help but smile as he felt the box on his pants pocket.

Soon enough.

Months have passed and the cycle still continued on, it took more time than he thought to get their rights granted and day by day Markus would get frustrated.

There would be demonstrators on the streets that would be against androids getting their rights and some groups would be particular with what right they didn't like the most. Markus mostly didn't like the groups who would protest against the rights for marriage, some would say that androids don't really love and it makes him upset that Y/n would hear any of their nonsense.

Although he trusted Y/n, there was a small amount of fear building up inside of him, he would sometimes think that what if Y/n heard what they were saying and she actually believes them?

Markus would then shake his head whenever those thoughts would creep into his mind. His Y/n would never abandon him after all they've been through so because of this he was very adamant into finally getting their rights. He wants to finally give her a grand wedding that she deserves to show his love.

As the android council continued their work and settle paperwork the time for another meeting with the humans arrived.

The first few meetings were not the best, granted it happened shortly after the revolution but, with time. the humans who were assigned to discuss with the androids grew less hostile than when they started.

Of course there were still the select few on their end but after President Warren's strict rule that there would be no harm on both ends they only went as far as using words to try degrading androids to provoke them and make them act to which, of course, they fail since Markus and his side never showed any hostility.

Before the meeting started and while the people gathered Markus stowed himself away on a private room, away from the prying eyes of both ends.

He sat on the couch as he looked at one of the many pictures he and Y/n had, this one was of them playing around with some paint as they painted a mural that showed android and human equality. They made sure to paint it at a public place together so that onlookers would see how well they just worked together. This photo was courtesy of Simon who seemed to take an interest in photography after Y/n showed him that there were many forms of art.

His mind was occupied with the big smile on Y/n's face as the Markus in the photo smothered blue paint on her cheek as she laughed. As he admired the pure joy the photo gave him a knock was heard on the door. He took a quick glance at the photo and then at the door before placing it down on the table, he stood up and walked over to the door to open it himself.

There stood President Warren with a few body guards waiting outside.

"Madam President?" Markus slightly raised his brow in question.

"Markus, do you have a minute?"

President Warren's face showed a small smile and her stance showed no hostility still, he had to keep himself on alert since she had numerous guards behind her and he was sure there were more around the vicinity.

"Yes, of course. Please, come in."

He moved to the side for her and her guards to enter and he followed.

President Warren sat down on one of the couches in the room and Markus sat opposite of her. Markus eyes her warily but not enough to raise any suspicion, he saw her eyes land on the table where his photo of Y/n was and he could see a smile form on her face.

"May I?" She motioned to the photo.

"Of course."

Markus watched as the president took the photo and smile at it. He could feel his own smile building since he cherished the photo and the memory.

"I see Miss Manfred is doing well?"

"Yes, she's been mentally, emotionally and physically well." He smiled.

"Well that's good to know, last I saw of her was when her father died. It's good to see that she's gotten better and I believe that's because of you."

Markus was well aware of Carl's past and how his art seemed to have caught the eye of the president even before she came to her position. He knew that they had been somewhat friends after seeing each other at a few CyberLife parties.

It was also no secret that Y/n and Markus were together. The first it came to light was at a press conference Markus had and Y/n had come to show her support, people were all over her asking questions about her relations with Markus and Y/n boldly answered each question without a second thought. Not only did she declare that they were together but also how she supported androids and their fight for equal rights.

It became big news to know that the deviant leader was with a human woman and public opinion was mixed. Majority of the people were against the very idea of it and course Markus was scared of the backlash Y/n would receive because of it but to his surprise a lot of people were supportive. Some even romanticized the idea that Markus caused the revolution because of his love for Y/n.

"I'm glad I can help her. Carl was very special to both of us." Markus smiled sadly as he reminisced the life of the man he looked up to as a Father.

"Well I'm glad you two have each other. I understand that you two really do love and care for each other. In fact, it was one of the reasons why I had ultimately decided to stand down during the revolution."

"I'm sorry... What do you mean?.." Markus asked as he looked at the president in slight confusion.

"Why that time when you called Y/n, before the revolution ended. Didn't you call her then?"

"Yes... Yes I did... With all due respect, how did you know about that?"

"Didn't she tell you? She was with me when you called."

Markus stared at President Warren as if waiting for more information and the confusion that was clearly on his face made him very human in the president's eyes.

"Well, Miss Manfred had... Gone past my extensive security, God knows how, but she successfully did and she had begged me to cease all attacks on androids during the night of the protests. Poor thing was in the middle of crying when you had called her, I was able to hear your message and it showed me just how you felt for each other, to go through such lengths was very admirable."

Markus leaned back in both horror and awe, horror at the fact that the woman he loved so much ran through the president's security and straight to the president herself to beg for his people to be spared, awe at the fact that she went through such great lengths for him and his people. Awe that she loved him so much that she would do such unthinkable things for him.

President Warren saw the surge of emotions that flowed through Markus' face and this gave her the idea that he hadn't known what Y/n had done for him and his people. She motioned for one of her guards and the guard handed her a thick stack of papers, she then placed it down on the table with the photo she had looked at on top.

"I didn't just come here to make small talk. I came here to give you a... gift of sorts."

Markus snapped out of his thoughts when the president spoke, he looked down on the table where the large stack of papers were and on top of it was the picture he had. What shocked him was the words printed on the paper underneath the photo.

"When I saw that you had wanted this I had a vague idea as to why, so I wanted to give this to you in person... Before it was publicly announced."

Markus took the stack of papers and smiled brightly at the words as he read them, on sentence made his smile even wider and he couldn't wait for it to be publicized.

"Androids have been granted rights to marry whomever they desire and will be looked upon under the same law as human marriage laws."

He looked at President Warren and the emotions just flowed through him, it was so much that he didn't know how he would show her that he was really thankful.

"Thank you so much, Madam President." He opted for a simple thanks which he hoped would reach her and with how the president smiled at him it seems like it did.

President Warren stood up and the guards all positioned themselves around her.

"I'll give you some time to yourself. The meeting will commence in a short while, I'll see you there." Markus stood up to shake her hand and the president was more than willing to shake.

"Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." He smiled gratefully and the president sent him once last smile before taking her leave.

It was quiet, as Markus sat on the couch his mind raced with different ways on how to propose and to break the news to Y/n. He felt a surge of emotions which ranged from happiness, joy, excitement, fear and anxiety.

All these thoughts of marriage was beginning to feel real now that they have been granted this right and it took Markus everything he had to stop himself from leaving the meeting and running home to propose to Y/n.

He placed his hand on his pocket and felt the small square box that was in it. This small box had been with him for a few months and it had been hard to hide it from Y/n, they shared everything together so hiding it from her had been near impossible.

Of course his friends knew about it and even helped him plan on how to do it, they had given him so many good suggestions and as much as he wanted to plan it out he just couldn't wait to do it.

Seeing these papers made him want to go home and finally propose to her but he knew he had a duty to fulfil. It took a few knocks on the door to snap him out of his thoughts and when he had opened it Simon was on the other side.

"Markus, are you alright?" Simon asked after seeing the distant look in Markus' face.

"Yeah... I'm more than alright." Markus smiled widely at Simon and the man smiled back.

"I take it the president shared good news? I saw her leave from this direction."

Markus showed Simon the papers and Simon smiled in full understanding at what this meant.

"Congratulation, Markus! I'm sure Y/n would be thrilled by this."

"I want to propose to her as soon as I can but I also want I want it to be perfect."

"Markus, you don't need to worry about how you're going to do it. I understand that you want it to be special but I'm sure that just being proposed to by you would already make her very happy. Besides, you pushed for this right to marry for more personal reasons than any, that's already special."

Simon placed a comforting and reassuring hand on Markus' shoulder and he felt grateful to have such a good friend. Ever since the beginning, Simon had been more than just a friend, he was brother. Having him here made Markus more confident in himself and his proposal to Y/n.

"You should do it when you feel that the time is right, if it's later after the meeting or next week then follow what your heart tells you."

"Thanks, Simon..."

Markus stared at Simon for a bit and Simon in turn gave him a confused look.

"What is it?.."

"Simon, you're like a brother to me and it's customary for a groom to have a best man... Would you be my Best Man? When Y/n does accept my proposal?"

"It would be my honor, Markus."

They shared a brotherly hug and when they released each other Simon clasped Markus' shoulder and looked at him with a smile.

"Now, let's do our best and get this meeting done, quick."

When the both of them walked to the assembly hall almost everyone had already been there. There were also people from different news channels and various journalists in waiting, ready to report the results of which rights have been passed.

"Let's get this over with."

Y/n stood in the kitchen cutting up ingredients for her dinner tonight, she had been busy with an upcoming art exhibition that showcases both art from humans and androids. She had wanted to be part of it but she hadn't expected that most of the major tasks would be handed to her since she was Markus' lover and also a Manfred.

Being the lover of Markus gave her more spotlight than when she had just been Carl Manfred's daughter and a simple artist. Still, she wanted to use her new found popularity with the masses to spread android equality.

This caused her to become extremely busy for the day with schedules, reviewing art pieces and where they would be placed. There were so many things to plan but she loved seeing the art pieces dedicated to human and android peace.

She knew it was a special day for Markus too, it was because they would be discussing which rights were approved and which were still under evaluation. Y/n wanted to give Markus a call but she knew he'd have his hands full so she opted to just wait for him to get home.

Y/n had been cutting some onions and thinking of various things when she heard the alarm of the house deactivate.

"Y/n?" Markus called out and she replied.

"In the kitchen!"

Markus came in the kitchen in a rush, he didn't even take off his coat as he immediately takes the knife from Y/n's hand, places it on the counter, and pulls her into a tight hug.

"Oh!"

She was shocked for a for moment at the sudden embrace but returned the hug, she snuggled into his arms and soon enough she relaxed. She felt Markus tighten his hold on her and she was momentarily worried that this was because he was upset about something.

"Is everything okay, Markus? Did the meeting not go well?"

"No, it went well..."

"Then what's wrong?.."

"Nothing... Nothing's wrong... In fact, I'm going to do something I've been dying to do for a long time."

"Oh? What is that?"

Markus removes his hold of her and takes her hands in his. He goes down and gets on one knee and Y/n felt her breath stop. She felt a chill run through her body and she could feel tears starting to form in her eyes, Markus hadn't even said anything and she was already on the verge of crying.

"Y/n Manfred, we have only been together for a few months but I know I've felt for you longer than that. You're the reason I can take every day as it is and push through even though the weight of the responsibilities given to me are sometimes too much.

"Every day I spend with you has made me happy and I can't imagine a world without you. You are what I think about most and I love you more than words can describe. I want to spend the rest of our lives together as a married couple... That's why..."

Markus took the box he had been hiding in his pocket and opened it to reveal a simple yet elegant gold ring.

"I know it's not perfect... I really wanted to give do something special for you but I couldn't wait any longer. Androids now have the freedom and right to get married under the same law as humans so..."

Y/n was already crying as he spoke of his love and when he pulled out the ring she cried ever harder.

"Y/n Manfred, will you marry me?"

She couldn't help herself and basically threw herself at Markus, they both end up falling on the floor and Y/n was sobbing uncontrollably as she hugged Markus.

"Yes! Oh my God, yes!" She cried out and she felt Markus wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"I love you so much." He spoked softly compared to her loud cries.

"I love you too! So very, very much!" She continued to cry and when she had calmed down Markus helped her up. He then took her hand and gently places the ring that fit her perfectly well and he saw her smile widely at the ring now on her hand. She places the same hand on his cheek and leaned forward to kiss him. He eagerly reciprocates and when she pulls back she starts laughing.

"Oh my God, we're engaged!.. We're finally engaged!"

"Finally?" He chuckled with her and she kissed him again.

"Of course! I can now admit with no shame that I've been dreaming about it for so long, that and of course getting married to you."

Y/n continued to cry and Markus wiped her tears away.

"Stupid onions... making me cry." She laughed while tears kept falling down her face.

Markus chuckled as he kisses her forehead and she giggles at the action and when he looks down at her he kisses her again.

"You're gonna make the onions sad if you keep blaming them like that."

"Oh hush." Y/n laughed at his little comment. "I can't believe this is happening..."

"You have to, we'll be planning our wedding soon." Markus smiled and Y/n smiles brightly at him.

"This is going to be so exciting!"

Y/n's smile suddenly turned into a sad one and that brought concern to Markus.

"What's wrong?.."

"I wish dad was here with us... He'd be so happy for the both of us..." Markus also smiled sadly at the mention of his father figure and he pulled Y/n into a hug, she hugs him back and he tightens his hold on her.

"I'm sure Carl's watching over us right now and I promise to make his one and only daughter happy."

"You already have."

Markus pressed his forehead on hers and the two spent the night doing the things they loved to do together, they talked about their day while holding each other in an embrace and even got started on brainstorming on what kind of wedding they'd have.

-------

A little over three months have passed and everything had been settled. Markus continued to work with his council in establishing life for androids and Y/n had been busy with taking more projects and handling more exhibits.

The two have been awfully busy but when they get home they relax and talk about their wedding plans. Nothing made the two happier than getting married as soon as they can but Markus wanted to make sure that it was extra special. Still, they made sure to plan for the shortest time possible.

Markus now stood in an all white tuxedo and looked at himself in a mirror, he fixed his tie and made sure it was perfect since it was his big day.

A few months ago he had only daydreamed about getting married to the woman he loved and now here he was, getting ready for the big event.

The news media had been a buzz when they found out that marriage was one of the rights the androids have gotten and they had naturally bombarded him and Y/n questions about getting married. Markus had been a bit hesitant to publicly announce that they were engaged since there would be another wave of backlash but Y/n had proudly told everyone that they were.

He could see the big smile on her face as she told people that they were engaged and Markus felt his heart swell with love. This woman was so excited to tell the world that he was her fiancé and he felt happy about it too so, seeing as how happy she was with it his hesitance with telling people that they were about to get married disappeared.

"Markus? Are you ready?" Simon entered the room he was in and Markus widely smiled.

"I am, a bit nervous though."

"Don't worry, everyone made sure that everything would be perfect."

Their wedding was invite only since the public wanted to see it too, journalists tried to get the details of their wedding date and location but everything was kept under wraps. He wanted to make sure that their wedding was intimate and for only close friends and those they treated as family.

"Everyone's ready when you are."

Markus smiled at Simon and they both walked out the room and to the traditional church. As they got there, all of the people they were close with were talking and waiting for the ceremony to start. He greeted his and Y/n's friends as well as some politicians that weren't against androids and had even accepted them with open arms, that included the president.

"Congratulations on your big day, Markus."

Markus turned his attention the voice and saw Connor with a woman. Connor had been one of his groomsmen and he wore the same white tuxedo shirt and black pants that Josh did. The woman who was with him had long black hair, curled to waves, black eyes and was wearing the same light pink dress that the bridesmaids wore.

What was notable was how Connor held the hand of the woman.

Just like him, Connor was with a human woman with the name of Hannah Anderson, a detective at the Detroit Police Department. She was good friends with his soon-to-be wife since they share a somewhat sort of bond when it comes to human-android relations and so, she was one of the bridesmaids. The only difference was. their relationship wasn't as public as his.

"Y/n is already finished getting ready, I hope your not getting cold feet because I'll have you know I can and will chase you down." Hannah lightly teased and Markus chuckled at her.

"I would never. I've been waiting for this for so long."

"She's almost here, places everyone!"

North's voice echoed around the church and Markus could see her excitement. She was the Maid of Honor that Y/n chose and North took her job seriously. The two of them had become very close after the revolution that it even shocked the said woman herself. She was hesitant to open up to Y/n seeing as she was human but now both treated each other like a sister.

Because of that, North put her all into making sure that things go smoothly for their wedding day.

"You ready, Markus?" North smiled and Markus smiled in return.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Music started playing from the organ of the church and people stood to look at the door, it soon opened and Markus' breath was taken away.

There stood Y/n in a beautiful white wedding gown but the way she looked made him pause. She had always been beautiful in his eyes but seeing her in white, about to get married to him, made everything much more magical. She slowly made her way to the altar and when she looked up at him it was as if all the color in the world magnified itself around her.

Y/n now stood in front of him with the biggest smile he has ever seen and he didn't stop himself from taking her hands. It was a bit cold and shaky but when he had held them the shaking stopped and he felt her squeeze back.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered her today in great celebration. One where love triumphs above all. We are here for the union of Y/n and Markus, as they show their love to the world. A love that will conquer all and last for an eternity. Do you both accept this marriage freely and wholeheartedly?"

"We do."

"We may now start with the vows, Markus?"

Markus took his time to stare at the woman he loved and he took a breath.

"Y/n, things between us haven't always been easy. It took us a hard and rocky road to get where we are right now but knowing that I'll be standing here in front of you, marrying you, I know that if I needed to go through it again I would.

"You are the most precious thing in the world for me. I love you, more than words can ever say and describe. I will fight for you, I will love and cherish you and I will protect you. I will build a world that would make you live in peace and happiness and I will always stay by your side."

He saw tears come down on Y/n's face and she started crying, the smile on her face never left and it only grew brighter at his words.

"Y/n?" The priest nodded and she smiled.

"Markus, when I thought I lost you all the color in my life faded. When I got you back it returned tenfold. You're right, it was never easy for us and there will always be problems along the way but I will never abandon you and I will fight for you, for us.

"I love you with all my heart, Markus. You're the one I cherish the most and no matter what the world throws at us know that I'll be beside you, proudly declaring how much I love you. You mean the world to me and nothing will ever change how much I love you."

It was his turn to feel emotional now. The only time he had cried was when Carl died but now, as he stood in front of Y/n he felt tears of happiness flow down his cheeks.

"Do you, Markus, take Y/n as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold; from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And do you, Y/n, take Markus as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold; from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?"

"I do."

"And now, for the rings."

Simon walks forward and presents the two of them the rings.

"May these rings be blessed by the Lord as the sign of your love and fidelity towards each other. You may now exchange the rings."

Markus took Y/n's hand and placed the wedding ring on top of the engagement ring he had given her and she did the same. The shine in Y/n's eyes as she looked at him and then at the rings they had made him smile at her. The two of them were overflowing with happiness and everyone could see it.

"And now, for the moment I'm sure you both have been waiting for."

They both chuckled and the priest smiled at them.

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife. Markus, you may now kiss your bride." Loud cheers echoed through the church as Markus takes Y/n into his arms and kisses her. She laughed in joy and he peppers her face with kisses before she does the same to his.

"Congratulations to Mr. and Mrs. Manfred!" The priest congratulates and Markus felt the happiness he had tenfold.

Not only was he legally married to woman he loved the most but he now carried the name of her family, of the man he thought of as a father. As he looked down at Y/n who was now waving to their friends and laughing happily he felt that everything is right in the world.

All the pain and suffering he had gone through months and months ago, now vanished as he held his wife. She looked up at him with a smile and he leaned back again to give her another kiss.

Their road to happiness had finally paved its way for them and Markus will surely treasure each and every moment they spend walking down its path.

xX0Xx

It's been 2 years since I wrote this Markus fic and after playing Detroit again I decided to write this and another Connor fic, the one I referenced here that Connor was with. It's title is Change and I'll be posting it soon! I hope you guys get to read that too! Thank you for reading and see you next time!

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #detroit become human markus x reader #dbh markus #markus #markus x reader #dbh markus x reader #dbh #xreader #x reader #carl manfred #dbh carl #reader insert

54 notes · View notes

matsumi101 · 4 years

Note

For the promts, maybe 367 with Maria Reynolds, modern au?

367. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you”

Notes:

> Reader x Maria Reynolds Modern AU

> Anon i love u for this do u know how giddy i am when i wrote the last part hnngh

> Fem!Reader I hope u guys don’t mind some (not so) wholesome lesbeans

> WIFI ANG GOOGLE DOCS HAS BEEN AN ASS IVE BEEN TRYING TO FIX THE ONESHOT BC IT KEPT GETTING PASTED OUT OF ORDER HNNGH

Type: fluff

Warnings: domestic abuse mention, implied sex

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

“Your Honor, the members of the jury find the defendant... guilty.”

You gave a low whistle while the Judge gave the final words, putting up a hand to return your co-counsel’s high-five without even having to look at him. Your smug grin never left your face even after the court was adjourned, only breaking into a more hyper celebration once you were out of the building.

“Fuck yeah, we deserve to celebrate!”

You laughed in agreement. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you, Alex,” you sighed. Alexander simpered, taking the compliment very well. “Well, what can I say? I’m always up for the challenging ones.” He shrugged his shoulders, pride oozing out of his presence. You couldn’t blame him, though. You were an excellent public attorney par with even Alexander Hamilton himself, but this case had you on your toes for months, even with Alexander’s help, and the outcome was well worth the sleepless nights you shared with your friend.

The topic returned to the celebration. “We should invite everyone to me and Eliza’s place and throw a party because damn we deserve it,” Alexander suggested. You hummed thoughtfully at his offer for a bit before responding. “I’d love that, but can we move that a little later? I wanna celebrate alone with Maria, first,” you pointed out. Alexander pulled an all too knowing smirk, to which you rolled your eyes at.

“I haven’t given her much attention ever since this case came, and I’m sure Eliza’s in the same situation. Our own partners deserve to be pampered after all of this, don’t you think?”

“My Eliza’s fine-”

“Hamilton.”

You crossed your arms and raised a brow at your friend. “Let Eliza share the victory with you, I’m sure she’d be thrilled to listen about how your hard work paid off,” you reasoned out. “And besides, it’s the closest I’ll get to apologizing for stealing you away from her for months.” Alexander laughed at that, getting your point. He pulled out his phone, most likely to share the great news to his fiancé.

“Let’s have the big celebration next weekend, yeah?”

You could tell from the eagerness in his voice that he was excited to come home and spend time with Eliza. “Perfect,” you agreed. You were about to bid farewell, but Alexander was already in call with Eliza and chatting away with unprecedented joy. You chuckled at him and went to your car, dialing a number while you started the engine. It rang a few times before it was picked up.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Washington! Is Maria Reynolds still at work?”

“Oh, Miss Y/N! It’s always a pleasure to talk to you.”

You smiled at this. Martha had always been a caring boss, which is why you recommended Maria to her business when she was looking for a new job. You placed your phone on the holder at the dashboard and set it to speaker while you pulled out of the parking lot. “Maria’s still here, why’d you ask?” Martha asked sweetly. Your smile grew into a more excited one, your plans already playing out in your mind.

“Well you see, I plan to surprise her tonight with her favorite food because I won what probably is my biggest case to date.” Martha gasped and gave you a quick congratulations. “But I still have to buy the things I need. Can you stall her for me? I just need an extra two hours.”

There was a thoughtful pause at the other end of the line. You took your eyes off the road for a split second to check if the call was still ongoing, which it was. “Dear, as romantic as your plan sounds, I don’t think Maria would like being cooped up here for so long,” Martha sighed. “She’s been stressed for the past months, and I don’t think she’s taking your disappearance so well lately, to top off the work she needs to finish today...” Your heart sank at the information. Yes, you were more than aware that you’d been neglecting Maria over the case, more than you’d like, and even if she was understanding enough that you needed to prioritize your slowly rising career, you knew there were unavoidable insecurities that followed her wake.

“I’m going to make it up to her,” you replied, voice steady. “I’m going to smother her with attention for the weeks to come ‘til she gets sick of me.”

Martha laughed heartily at your determination. “So please, can you help me out and give me two hours? I promise It’ll all be worth it,” you pleaded. It didn’t take as long for Martha to answer. “Okay, but I want to see Maria coming to work next Tuesday with an honest smile. I miss seeing her so positive.” You beamed gratefully, even though she couldn’t see it. “You’re giving her a long weekend off?” you asked almost too happily.

“Aside from letting her spend time with her favorite woman, I’m sure she deserves the rest for working so hard the past months.”

“Oh Martha, thank you so much! I owe you a lot.”

Any semblance of formalities melted away. “Oh dear, you know I’m a sucker for romantic gestures! I’ll make sure she tells me everything about your night when she gets back to work,” she teased. You giggled, excitement crawling up your body by the minute. You ended the call and finished your groceries as fast as you could, and by the time you got back to your shared apartment the sun was just starting to set. Perfect, you thought. You had more time than anticipated, but you were sure to utilize every second and got to work.

After a dragging day at work, Maria finally found her way back home. She was stuck in the office for a good two hours past her supposed time out due to Martha’s unexpected request to finish some extra paperwork. She would’ve declined it, but the offer of getting a paid day off in return was too good to miss out that even an extra hour long traffic didn’t stop her. She was far too exhausted, both mental and physical, to think of anything else but to crash into the soft sheets of her bed despite her empty stomach begging to be filled up. When she got to her apartment’s door, however, she couldn’t help but stop and look at it.

She didn’t know that today was the day you’d bring the case to the court one last time for a verdict, so all she expected was to come home to an empty apartment, and despite everything still in the same place it felt more barren the past few months. And yet, as she unlocked the door and flicked the lights on, she was greeted with not only a noticeably cleaner living room but also a delectable smell wafting through her nose. It caused her stomach to growl again, and with the new smell filling the place she dropped her bag and headed to the kitchen.

“You’re home!”

Maria’s eyes popped out at the sight. There you were in your sweatpants and loose shirt, sitting across the table with your hand resting atop your intertwined fingers. A large grin splayed across your face, which grew even wider at the sight of her. The table was set up with two plates, a bottle of wine and whiskey (a strange combo, Maria thought), about three dishes, and a bowl of soup accompanied by a smaller bowl of croutons. The food before her was definitely made presentable, and if Maria wasn’t too occupied gawking (and maybe drooling a little) she would’ve pointed out how your outfit didn’t even match up to the setting.

“We won the case,” you told her, your voice laced with softness and excitement.

Maria had to compose herself just enough to answer. “Really?” she squeaked out. She was happy beyond words, both for your success and you finally being there to greet her home for once and having done this seemingly large dinner after months of surviving on leftovers in the fridge and take-outs. You nodded, watching her expression with a smile, but it quickly dropped when you saw her starting to cry. Alarmed, you got off your seat and pulled her to a tight embrace, to which she eagerly returned, taking in the faint scent of the soap you used for your bath. You planted a long kiss on the crown of her head, and the gesture only seemed to make her cry more.

“Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

And there she poured everything out. She missed coming home to your arms every night, but ever since the case you were always either gone in the office at work or holed up in the one at home. The thought made her disappointed, and maybe with a twinge of anger and paranoia, but she had to hold it back. She knew how much work meant to you, and she admired how passionate you were for it. She tried her best not to think too much of it, but the fear of you growing cold towards her scared her to no end, admitting that the effects of her past relationship with James was still affecting her.

You didn’t speak the whole time and let Maria vent it out until she reduced into quiet sobs. You kissed her forehead before pulling away from the hug so you could meet her eye to eye. “I know I’ve been so busy, which is why I’m going to make up for it,” you whispered soothingly. You cupped her face and gently wiped the tears away with your thumbs, and you could see a smile slowly grace her lips that made your heart melt. You then peppered her with short, sweet kisses all over her face, which made her giggle and squirm.

“I missed you so much, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, but I’m not going to let you have dinner with such an uncomfortable outfit.”

Maria followed your eyes to her office attire. “I drew you a hot bath just a few minutes ago, with lots of lavender from our mini garden,” you told her softly, pulling her by the waist and kissing her cheek. Gosh, you missed her so much. Maria sighed as you nuzzled your face on the crook of her neck, already imagining the beautiful smell of the bathroom awaiting her. Unfortunately, she had to pull away from the hug so she could actually get there.

After Maria took her time in a relaxing bath and changed to her own comfortable clothes, you two spent the night together, savoring the full course dinner you made with both of your favorite foods and hers, then surprising her with strawberry mousse, her favorite, for dessert. After that, and an empty bottle of wine, you two went to the couch to cuddle and watch a movie together. Though the film on the television was soon forgotten when you kept on showering Maria with kisses and compliments. Even if she asked you to stop since she genuinely wanted to watch the movie, you only replied to her with,

“Nah, I’m going to spoil you the whole weekend, and for the following weeks to come.”

And you did just that. Your attention was all on Maria day and night, and her heart could never feel so full at the sight of you. You took care of her and she took care of you, too. Of course you respected her boundaries and remained gentle with how you held her, but she knew that with you she was safe. Her initial fears of abandonment were soon thrown out the window. Maria trusted you more than ever, and you made sure to show her that she would never regret that choice.

Maria sighed wistfully, stroking your hair as she stared at the wall. The heavy drapes were drawn shut, preventing the moonlight from entering the dark bedroom. You were nestled on her bare chest, sleeping soundly while you had your arms wrapped protectively around her waist. A smile adorned your lips, and Maria took notice of it when she looked down at you.

You were at peace, contrast to the tired and frustrated expression you constantly seemed to wear while you were working the past months. Your breaths were slow and relaxed, making Maria hold a smile of her own as she studied your features. She brought a hand to your face, and you subconsciously leaned against her touch. She caressed your cheek with a thumb, her gaze trailing over to the bags under your eyes. Without your makeup, it looked much worse, but Maria didn’t care. She loved everything about you, even those eyebags that carried all the success you worked for, and she never felt luckier for having such a caring and passionate girlfriend as you.

“Oh Y/N,” Maria sighed for the nth time that night. “I didn’t think love existed until I started loving you.”

You barely stifled your amused chuckle, making Maria jump slightly at the vibration. “I’m glad to be the one to make you realize that,” you murmured, opening your eyes and ignoring the noise of surprise that she made when you let it be known that you were still awake. You shifted so that you could fully look at Maria. It was dark, but you could still make out her wide eyes that slowly softened. Her hand was still pressed to your face, so you put your own on top of it and moved to gently kiss her palm.

“And you deserve every bit of love, sweetheart.”

The way you said it so sincerely just made Maria absolutely melt, even more so when you pulled up to give her a long, tender kiss. Her hands wandered you, fingers trailing the marks she left on your skin before a hand made its way to your bare back while the other tangled on your already messy hair. When you backed away to breathe, you gave Maria one last peck on the lips before lying on her side and pulling her close.

“You know babe, seeing you like this makes me want to look forward to more of your difficult cases.” Maria laughed when you tiredly groaned in annoyance.

“No. If the next one is anything like the last I’m shoving it to either Alexander or Jefferson. I missed you too much.”

#hamilton #hamilton musical #reader insert #hamilton reader insert #maria reynolds #maria reynolds x reader #hamilton x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #hamilton fanfic #hamilton fanfiction #my wifi has been an ass istg it's making the parts all messed up

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sabraeal · 4 years

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The Daisy Chain, Chapter 8

At long last, the end of this series! AO3 informs me that the last update was in December 2017, so uh....enjoy. This was written for @puffdragongirl for her birthday, which is TODAY because I am an adult who can totally finish things on time. Just...ignore that this fic has only needed one more chapter for two and a half years.

The room is dark when she slips through, silent save for the sound of Obi’s breath, thick and heavy with sleep. Shirayuki sets her back to the door, guiding it shut softly, the latch engaging with a sharp click.

It’s just how she left it: his coat slung over the back of his chair, the spray of paperwork across his desk, the soft glow of the stone on the bedside table; how it looks every night she’s snuck in to steal his warmth.

Save for the clothes strewn by the beside, of course, shucked as quick as corn at a husking, and the bare body sprawled beneath the sheets.

A hand claps to her cheeks, burning. She hadn’t meant for this to happen, hadn’t even thought it could, but--

Her eyes adjust, enough so that she can trace the sharp lines of his face in the darkness. Her heart clenches, overwhelmed with fondness, and she cannot hold back her smile. Shirayuki may not have meant for it to happen, but she’s glad it did.

His robe slides from her shoulders, joining his jacket on the chair. Cold air stings her skin, and before she can give a single shiver, she slips beneath the covers, pressing her body tight against his. He’s warm under her hands, bare-chested beneath the cocoon of covers. She would never dare, not even in summer, but Obi is a furnace; only seconds beside him and she’s warm from head to toe. By morning she’ll be a sweaty mess, and--

And that could be from an entirely different reason than she’s used to.

Shirayuki raises herself onto her elbow, watching his chest rise and fall beneath her hand. She knows this rhythm well, the long lull of his sleep; it’s been her constant companion these past few years, the last thing she heard before her dreams pulled her under. To think, for so long she fooled herself, believing that she could sleep as easy with another’s.

He sighs, head tilting on his pillow. The lines of his face are slack, unwary, his breath steady and slow. Perfectly peaceful in this place.

Her mouth rounds into a faint smile. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

His breath stutters, and she smothers a smirk. As if she couldn’t tell he was faking after all these years.

His nose wrinkles, eyes screwing shut. “I see Master is telling my secrets now.”

Her hand cups him, his cheek stubbled against her palm. With no hesitation, he leans into it, nose nuzzling down its hatched lines, the heat of his breath skating down her wrist. “Obi.”

He sighs, eyes slitting open to reveal a sliver of gold behind the cage of his eyelashes. “You weren’t supposed to know.”

“Never?”

He rolls up onto his side, lips brushing the base of her palm, sending sparks down her skin. “Not ever.”

Her mouth slants wryly. “So much for that.”

A laugh rumbles up from his chest, muffled by her palm. “Well, I wasn’t the one who told you.”

“Why.”

Obi blinks, eyes wide and gleaming like coins. “I...” His fingers clench in the sheets between them. “I didn’t want you to act any differently. Or...or make you feel that you had to-- to--”

“Love you?”

“Pity me.” His fingers wrap around her wrist, slowly stroking down to her elbow. “I consider myself a pragmatist, after all.”

“Obi.” She rests her forehead against his. “No more secrets.”

His chest trembles beneath her palm. “But how will I maintain my reputation as a man of mystery?”

She shakes her head-- or rather, rolls it along his forehead, noses brushing at the tip. “Have your secrets, then. Just not from me.”

His breath leaves him on a sigh, body relaxing under her touch. “I could live with that.”

“Good.” Shirayuki tilts her head, their noses parting as she closes that last breath of space between them.

A sparks courses through her at the touch, catching the tinder in her belly. It smolders, each brush of his lips against hers fanning the flame, threatening a blaze. Her fingers clench at his shoulder, and his answering moan makes her wonder if they could close the gulf between their bodies and start again, picking up where they left off--

“Are you all right?” he breathes, putting a healthy, finger-width of space between them. “Are you sure that we--?”

“Yes,” she murmurs, chasing his mouth, feeling that sweet rush of victory before he pulls himself back again.

This time, it’s further, and when she opens her eyes, an incredulous arch of an eyebrow waiting for her.

“No,” she admits, bowing her head against his shoulder. “I mean, yes to-- to wanting. But I’m not...” She bites her lip. “It was never going to be an easy conversation.”

His mouth curves mischievously in the dark. “It could have been easier.”

“I...I don’t think so.” His gaze is dubious when she leans back to meet it. “I could have been better prepared, and I could have, ah...avoided this sort of confrontation, but--” her fingers tips idly on his skin as she gathers her thoughts-- “this was never going to be...clean.”

He hums, unconvinced. “If you needed this conversation at all.”

“I did. We did.” She lets out a huff; if only words came as easily as kisses did when she was with him. “I think...I think I knew-- I knew when you said I couldn’t-- that a princess couldn’t work beside a common boy.”

“Ah, Miss!” He jolts away from her, as if her touch scalds. “You shouldn’t have listened to me. I only--”

“No.” Her hand cradles his cheek, and she leans in, rubbing noses together once more. “You were right. I just wasn’t ready to hear it. And when he asked for my hair, and you told me to tell him to come get it himself, I--” her breath catches in her throat-- “I knew he wouldn’t come.”

“Well,” Obi drawls, mouth rucking up shadows. “Looks like you missed the mark on that one.”

“That only makes it worse. He only came to collect, not to-- to--” she sighs, shaking her head-- “not to see me. This isn’t the way I wanted to start the conversation but...”

She worries her lip, choosing her words carefully before saying, “If this hadn’t happened, I’m not sure I ever would have had the courage to walk away.”

“Well,” Obi laughs after a long moment, teeth flashing white in the dark. “If you’d wanted to leave so badly, all you had to do was as--”

Her hand pushes at his chest, playful. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know.”

“It’s only...” She curls in closer to him, her feet pressing against his shins. “It’s so much easier to do something when it isn’t just for yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He catches her hand, pressing it flat against his breast. “Before I met you, I did everything just for myself. Wasn’t too hard.”

Beneath her palm, his heart beats slow and steady, as faithful as Obi himself. “And now?”

His thumb strokes down the long bone of her hand. “And now I have so much more to lose.”

“No.” It’s little more than a breath, her fingers curling into his hair. “You have so much more to live for.”

His lips curve, entirely too inviting. “That’s splitting hairs, Miss.”

“You know,” she manages, eyes fixed on the full bow of his mouth, “I liked it better when you called me by my name.”

His breath stutters in his chest, his heart racing just beneath her palm. “Ah, but did you really like that, or just what I was doing while I used it?”

Heat pounds through her as she remembers the way his hands had gripped her thighs, how they had felt wrapped around him, how he had felt as he moved deep withing her--

“Can I say both?”

One of those hands grips her now, firm against the round of her seat, and drags her hip-to-hip. “You won’t hear any objection from me.”

Ah, yes, it certainly-- certainly doesn’t feel like he has any objection. Or, um, clothes.

Her cheeks flare unbearably hot, but she’s never been one to back away from a challenge-- or such a welcome invitation.

“We were interrupted before.” Her hand snakes from his chest to his shoulder, and oh, it would be so much easier if she was the sort of girl who was used to this, to asking for things, but-- “We shouldn’t leave things unfinished.”

She expects his mouth to tilt, for a wicked smile to spread across his lips as he slides her impossibly close, the heat of his breath skating across her skin, but--

But instead he only pulls back, concern furrowing his brow. “You didn’t--?”

“You didn’t,” she breathes, palm smoothing down his side. “Don’t you want to?”

“I--” The excuse dies on his lips, swept away by the slow brush of hers. He groans into her mouth, fingers digging hard into her thigh. “Ahh, Shirayuki, you--”

“Mm,” she hums, pressing closer, mouth tucked against his neck, his pulse thrumming against her lips. “I like the way you say it.”

“Haah?” he manages, hips canting towards her as her fingers trace over the curved bone of it. “What do you--?”

“My name.” He hisses as the words form against his skin, head tilting back. “I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

Her hand drops those last inches, wrapping around the hard length of his cock. He jumps under her touch.

She hadn’t touched it the last time; between the way his fingers had felt and the urgent need to have him inside her, she hadn’t even thought to try. But now its heavy weight is in her palm, both solid and soft. The skin is like nothing she’s ever felt-- well, at least not with her hands-- smooth and stretched tight over the firm flesh beneath. She knows it’s not bone, that it’s only vascularized tissue filled to the brim, but it’s hard enough that--

“Shirayuki,” he pants, forehead resting on hers. She blinks up at him, confused, until she realizes her hands have moved on their own, tracing along the bulging vessel on its underside, and--

And that’s working for him. Curious.

“Shirayuki,” he tries again, fingers gripping so hard they could bruise. “You don’t have to--”

His voice is lost, falling into a guttural groan as she finally moves, stroking her hand down the length of him. Heat pools between her legs at the sound of it, at the way his hips jerk between each stroke, chasing her touch.

She hooks a calf around his thigh, steadying herself. “I want to.”

His head tips back, exposing the tender skin of his neck, and Shirayuki knows an invitation when she sees one. Her mouth finds a ridge of bone, suckling at the flesh there, drawing out the most intriguing sounds from his throat.

“Shirayuki.” He’s panting, painfully hard in her hand, but still he manages, “I don’t want you feel like you have to-- that I have to--”

Her teeth nibble at the bone. He curves into her with a moan, hands clutching at her, dragging blunted nails down her back.

“I don’t,” she breathes, pulling away far enough to see how his pupils are blown, only that thin wire of gold remaining around the eclipse of his eyes. “I want to make you feel good. As good as you felt in me.”

He lets out a shaky laugh, hips bucking against hers as her hand slides along his cock, steady and sure. It’s-- it’s sticky now, some sort of liquid pearling at the slit on its head, but she isn’t disgusted, not in the slightest. Oh no, she smears her palm over it, rubbing it down his shaft, and is rewarded with another moaning laugh.

“If you keep talking like that, none of this is going to last very long,” he warns, words pulled taffy long as he thrusts into her hand.

Her pace stutters. “Do you need it to?”

Six years she’s worked in the clinic, solving every issue from bee stings to pleurisy, but none of them help her here, not when she is feeling as far from clinical as Wilant is from Wistal. She knows the mechanics, how to insert a round peg into a round hole, but these finer details can only be found in a library called experience, a place she has never been.

“Is that better for you?” she worries. “Should I go slower?”

His breath gasps against her shoulder, fingers bushing mindlessly down her back as she lingers on every stroke.

“Anything is good,” he croaks, “just as long as you don’t stop.”

The ache is voice is answered between her legs, pulsing at every hitched breath, at every lost word. But this isn’t about her; it’s about the guttural noises wrenched from his throat, about the way his hands can’t seem to pull her close enough, about the hot breath panting against her neck. It’s about how he took care of her before, laying her back and taking her so sweet, so gentle, and leaving nothing but pleasure behind. He took care of her, and now it’s time for her to take care of him too.

She wants this to last, to bring him to the same dizzying heights as he had brought her, to watch him shatter as he comes--

But oh, her arms are tired. They never mention this in any of Yuzuri’s novels.

“Something wrong?” he grunts, head lifting from the mattress. It’s only then that she realizes she’s slowed, her movement jerky, and-- and--

Well, she can’t imagine it feels good.

“My arm is tired,” she admits, heat flaring over cheeks. He lays a kiss there, muffling a laugh. “I’m not used to this sort of, ah...exercise.”

“Oh,” he croons, finger tracing along her burning triceps. “Your poor scholarly muscles aren’t used to this kind of abuse?”

“No, they aren’t.” She sighs, giving her hand a disappointed glare. “Is there anything else I can do?”

His mouth rounds into a wicked curve. “Oh, I could think of one or two things...”

“Oh!” She blinks. “What is it?”

He laughs, shaking his head, and waves her hands away. “You’re too easy, Miss. And it’s fine, I can finish this. After all, I’ve been doing this myself since--”

“No.”

He stares at her, and she stares back, just as surprised. “I mean, I want to.” She lets out a shaky breath, tracing his vein with her finger. “I want it to be me.”

Obi groans, loud and long. “Alright,” he murmurs, reaching for her. “Alright.”

With no warning at all her word tilts, settling only when she’s on her back, Obi hovering above her. He parts her legs, and oh, the wetness between them floods out, coating the tops of her thighs. She hadn’t known-- hadn’t thought--

His hips settle against her, his cock pressing into her belly, and-- and she knows the moment he feels her, feels how wet he’s made her, because he rounds over, mouth open against the collar of her nightgown, and moans.

“Shirayuki,” he gasps. “Shirayuki, please-- aahh.”

Her hand finds him again, wrapping around his cock, and her other follows, until every inch of him is covered, and the sound he makes when she moves is--

Is short lived.

His mouth presses hard against hers, no longer those hesitant, gentle brushes, but instead tangled tongues and sharp teeth. Her heart pounds, but it’s not the rabbit tattoo fear, but the ravenous drumming of a larger beast, one hand raising not to push him away, but draw him closer.

Her nails drag down his scalp, urging him to take more, to nip at her lips and lick her teeth, and he does, he does, but-- but his hips rock into hers, the base of his cock hitting her just where she needs it, just where she’s been dying for attention, and she whimpers.

He stills against her, and when she opens her eyes-- ah, when did she even close those?-- he’s staring down, jaw slack and eyes dark, and--

And then his hands are on her, one buried in her hair, holding her to his mouth, and the other palming her ass, holding her steady as he grinds into her, keeping pace with how she works him, driving her ever faster, rougher, until she can hear the wet slap of him between her legs and--

And it isn’t fair. This is for him, just for him, and all she can think is how good he felt in her, how good he would feel in her if only he wanted it--

“Shirayuki,” he whimpers, pulling at her lips. “Please, please...”

“Obi.” His name is little more than a whine. “Obi, you have to-- you have to tell me what you want.”

His head shakes buried in her shoulder now, sweat dripping onto her skin. “I can’t, I can’t.”

“Please.” She tangles her fingers in the bristle of his hair, tugging him back until he meets her eyes, desperation plain. “I want to make you feel good.”

His eyes flutter shut, a blush spread across his cheeks, his chest, and all he manages is, “Yes.”

“I want to make you feel good,” she tries again, but oh, his hips are so distracting-- “But I need you to tell me how.”

He groans. “I want--” a hiss breaks through his teeth as she rubs her palm over his head-- “I want to be inside you.”

Her jaw drops. “Oh.”

“Ah, no.” He lets out a pained laugh. “We don’t-- you don’t--”

“No--” her hands drop from him to tangle in the hem of her nightgown-- “please--” she drags it over her head, thighs opening wide for him-- “please put your cock in me.”

He stills above her, jaw slack. “Oh,” he manages. “Alright. Yes.”

She’s still sore from the first time, but she’s so wet he hardly has to do more than push and he’s seated in her. It’s an odd sensation, different than the last, as if she’s tight and worn at the same time, raw and still wanting. He thrusts, breath hissing between his teeth, and oh, yes, that’s what she’s wanted since he pulled from her that first time, to feel him in her again, right where he belongs.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, and then he’s lifting her hips, tilting her just the way she needs for him to be deep inside her, hitting her in a way that’s so perfect, too perfect, he is perfect-- “Fuck, you can’t just-- you can’t tell me that if you want-- If I’m supposed to--”

Oh, she hadn’t...she hadn’t known she was saying that all out loud.

“I want you,” she tells him, little more than a whisper in his ear, rolling in to meet each of his thrusts, her body humming with that elusive static, building with each thrust of his cock in her. “Please, I want you.”

“Haah.” He nips at her collarbone. “You feel much too good for talk like that.”

She grunts, confused, and he presses a sweet kiss to her lips, at odds with the desperate way he’s rolling into her. “If you keep talking like that,” he tells her with a laugh, “I’ll come.”

Something deep within her clenches, and they both moan. “I want you to come,” she tells him. “I want it--”

“Ha-haah,” he puffs, fist clenching in the sheets. “Good, because I-- I can’t-- I’ll pull--”

“No.” Her thighs squeeze tight around his hips, keeping him buried in her, allowing him only the space to keep his rhythm. “Don’t you dare leave me.”

His eyes pulse wide. “But I could-- you might--?”

Words fail him, and he just lays a hand on her stomach, and she knows with a clench of her heart which ones they were, which future he didn’t dare bring into the space between them.

Her hand lays over his even as her hips goad him on. “That wouldn’t-- it wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

“Shirayuki,” he manages, bare moments before he crushes her to him, pumping into her with abandon, saying the most wonderful things in her ear--

And then it’s over, his large body dropping limply over hers, their sweat mingling with their skin.

“Ah.” He rolls to his side, freeing her from his weight. Strangely, she misses it. “You didn’t manage it that time, did you?”

The heat is almost unbearable now that he mentions it, and she squirms against him. “I’m fine. I don’t need to—to come again.”

He gets a wicked look on his face. “Oh, no. This is an easy fix, Miss.”

He kisses his way down her body, and by the time he puts his lips against her cunt she—

“Well,” he laughs when he ears have stopped ringing. “Clearly we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

Her limbs are limp, languid. “Later,” she promises as he settles beside her. “In the morning.”

His eyes widen even as hers close. “Yeah,” he murmurs as sleep pulls her under. “In the morning.”

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #lemon #my fic #The Daisy Chain #FINALLY IT IS DONE #i meant to have a part after where she's like #obi clearly i'm on something to keep my courses regular #we aren't going to have a baby now #but it just didn't seem to fit in the flow #that's more of a morning conversation where he's like #!!! I DIDN'T PULL OUT WHAT IF BABY???#and her being like buddy come on #there's stuff for that!#i just wanted you to know it wouldn't be a DISASTER if it happened #(and please like she didn't SUDDENLY ask yuzuri what was the best thing for that #after the night they had the sexy ticle fight #like oh no reason just thought it would be a good precaution you know how it is #yuzuri: *watching Obi avoid them like the plague* hm yeah sure okay)

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