#SIR. NEITHER OF YOU ARE NORMAL

[eyes-of-nine]

tfw when minibosses take you an average of like 8 attempts minimum but then you somehow manage to defeat your fav boss in the entire game on your first try :v

[fictionalfish]

This is what I think the Hazbin Hotel characters would smell like

idc if this is a weird post i have thoughts, this post includes the Hotel residents + the Vee's as a special treat :3

Charlie: I think she would probably use a really sweet and fruity body wash, like a citrusy thing. I feel like she would be the sort of person to have a really distinct smell that you can smell when she brushes up against you.

Vaggie: Shea or Coconut, I also like to think that Vaggie always has really good breath

(I feel like Charlie and Vaggie would share body wash a lot but when it comes to hair stuff they would have to use different ones cause they have such different textures so that's where the individual scents would come from)

Angel: Artificial strawberry type thing but I think his breath would smell smoke and some form of alcohol, I also read on like one website that PCP has a chemically sorta odor like a permeant marker so probably a bit of that too

Husk: A mix of whiskey and beer and probably other alcohol, also cigarettes smoke and maybe a bit musty like an antique store (I'm sorry Husk ily) but he would also have a hint of Angels artificial strawberry smell cause...boyfriends

Alastor:... Rotting flesh, like you do not want to be near him.

Niffty: Chemicals, she probably uses surface cleaning things as body wash lmao

Pentious: Petrol or something like that

Vox: Leather and car fresheners

Val: Smoke, some sickly sweet smell in a very off putting way, the sickly sweet smell would also rub off on people for a bit if they hang around him too long probably cum or something too

Vel: She probably wears too much, very strong, very expensive perfume

[angryjewishcockroach]

I had a wacky customer today who saw my magen david and started talking about Israel from the most Evangelical Christian perspective. Like, I’m glad you’re on our side, I guess, but please stop talking to me about Jesus and messianic “Jews” and how much you love to read the Old Testament.

[eveomo]

taking whats mine - joel miller x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ synopsis : you head to the bar to blow off some steam after a petty argument with your boyfriend, joel, but you end up flirting with the last person you should've been flirting with.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ warnings/tags : MINORS DNI, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, begging, crying, spanking, jealous sex, angry sex, rough fucking, pet names, praise, degradation, use of sir, use of daddy (once), age gap (reader is 22, joel is 48), fingering, dom!joel, jealous!joel, no outbreak, no use of y/n, alcohol consumption, pussy slapping, public sex

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ contains : older!joel miller x younger!reader, borderline infidelity, public sex, alcohol consumption, large consensual age gap

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ wc : 3.7k

the bar hums with a steady pulse of low conversation and the clinking of glass while neon lights buzz faintly above the bar counter, casting a colourful glow over people nestled into the worn leather booths and high padded stools. a jukebox in the corner crackles with the opening beat of song 2 by blur, blending with the cacophony of voices and laughter while a group of people begin to cheer after the home team scores, TV’s playing the football game. the air smells faintly of spilt beer, fried food, stale smoke, and sweat, causing your nose to wrinkle slightly as you sink down into the plush barstool. 

normally, you’d be pulled tight on your boyfriends lap, his large, muscular arms pinning you against him as he ordered drinks for the both of you, fingers digging into your plush thighs as you bat your eyelashes at him in gratitude, intoxicated by his scent.

this time, however, you are alone. 

joel didn’t typically feed into your petty attitudes, usually preferring to fuck them out of you and calm you down by pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. but after an especially long week at work where there seemed to be a never-ending barrage of issues with the place him and his brothers team were building and far too many 14 hour days, he snapped. you had been begging him to take you out, promising him it would ease some of his tension and stress but he repeatedly declined, telling you he had a headache and would rather stay home and watch football. 

you tried to understand, really you did. but it was safe to say that after a week of barely seeing him, not being able to wrap your legs around his waist and tug on the salt and pepper curls at the base of his neck, that you didn’t really care how he was feeling, just wanting to spend time with him outside of the house and do anything other than watch sports. of course, it was petty, selfish, and immature, but being 22 will do that to you, you supposed. 

you had left the house with a huff and a slam of the front door after joel had told you to “quit bein’ a fuckin’ brat and pissin’  me off. go out if you want to that badly.” with a mean lilt to his voice that made your stomach simmer with an angry burn. that was the meanest he’d ever been to you outside of your sex life. the two of you had been together for no more than two and a half months, still keeping it private and between you and him. your parents hadn’t a clue, and neither did joel’s brother. you hadn’t met him yet, the only thing about him you knew was that his name is tommy and him and joel still fight like teenage boys, a smile tugging at your lips at the thought.

you white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire drive to the bar, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as his words kept repeating in your head. 

so, that’s how you found yourself nursing a lone star, your black mini skirt hugging your hips and ass while your corset top squishes your tits into your torso, accentuating your cleavage deliciously. you make conversation with the bartender as she cleans glasses, mixes drinks, and wipes down the counter, looking around at the patrons trying to find someone worth flirting with. 

under any other circumstances, you would never even consider batting your eyelashes and giggling for any other man but joel, but you simply knew him too well. you knew the way you huffed and slammed the door, leaving in an anger, had left his cock angry and straining against his jeans as his mind reeled, fighting against the urge to follow you to the bar and fuck you right in his truck, setting you straight. regardless, you knew you were getting fucked tonight, but it would be much more fun if you could bring out the possessive side of joel that made him press your thighs to your shoulders while his cock abused your pussy until you couldn’t even think. the thought sent a pang of warmth straight down to your core and you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt for some semblance of relief. 

as if on cue, an older man, maybe in his late 30’s to early 40’s, enters the bar and a mischievous smile makes its way onto your face. you watch with your bottom lip between your teeth as he approaches the bar, settling down in the only available stool; the one right beside you. he glances over at you and you shoot him a smile, pushing your hair off of your shoulder as you take a sip from your glass, leaning forward to lean on your palm.

“now what’s a pretty young thing like you doin’ at a bar like this?” he drawls, green eyes twinkling as he studies your face before dragging his eyes up and down your body. 

bingo.

you hum, trying to decide what to say while tapping your nail against your lip as you support your head on the palm of your hand. “boyfriends bein’ an asshole so i came to blow off some steam,” you settled on telling him a half truth. 

joel was being an asshole, but because you deserved it, and the only steam you were looking to blow off was with joel. 

the man beside you chuckled, pushing a few stray pieces of dirty blonde hair out of his face, the rest tied back. “naughty girl,” he chided, eyes dragging up your body again and settling on your tits before making eye contact again.

something tugged at you, making your stomach churn anxiously. he looks oddly familiar, you realize, but you shake the feeling, comforting yourself with the fact that you and joel had come here many times, and you’d probably just seen this guy around before. 

“somethin’ like that,” you reply with a giggle, pushing yourself to sit back up after finishing the rest of your beer, turning and ordering another one. you reach for your wallet to pay before you see a card being slid across the counter.

“let me take care of it, darlin’.” he winks, a smile spreading across his bearded face as you thank him with a light touch to his bicep. 

the two of you talk for several minutes, his flirting making you giggle as your hair falls in front of your face before you take a drink of the beer he had paid for, wiping away the foam that had appeared on your top lip with your pointer finger before popping it in your mouth, making eye contact with the man beside you. 

he smirks and tucks your hair behind your ear, out of your face and your stomach twists with guilt. his eyes flit down to your lips, and his thumb meets your bottom lip, swiping across it lightly. 

“what i’d give to see you suck somethin’ else off them pretty fingers of yours,” 

okay, now you feel really guilty. 

you had expected joel to come after you sooner, have him walk in and see you simply talking to someone, but this was bordering on actual cheating. you wriggle nervously in your seat eliciting a chuckle from the man beside you, but before you could truly process your guilt, an angry voice came from behind you. 

“get the fuck away from her, tommy.”

your heart drops to your stomach as the realization hits you. no wonder he was so god damn familiar, he was joels fucking brother. the guilt was eating you alive now as you whip around to face joel, his eyes dark and jaw tensed. 

“joel i-“ you start, but he glares at you with a look you’ve never seen before, pointing a finger in your direction.

“dont.” he warns, and you feel a flood of warmth in your core at his words, thighs rubbing together in your seat. joel looks down at your movement and scoffs, jaw tightening so hard you thought he might break his teeth. jesus fucking christ.

“joel, what the fuck? this is the girl you’ve been seein’?” tommys mouth hangs open, looking between the two of you before standing and putting his hands up in defense as joel’s eyes meet his, glaring. 

“we can talk about it later,” he grunts, looking at his brother before gripping your wrist tightly, yanking you off of the stool. “you, however,” he drawls, voice lowering as he pulls you closer to him, “are comin’ with me right the fuck now.” 

you nod silently, mumbling out a quiet “it was nice meeting you,” to tommy, which only serves to make joel grip your wrist harder as he drags you out of the bar. you can feel yourself getting wetter at the thought of what’s in store for you, following joel in a horny trance as he pulls you past his truck.

“wha- where are we-“ you start before joel tugs you around a corner and into a dark alleyway before pressing your back up against the brick wall, thigh quickly finding purchase between your legs as his torso presses against yours. you whine at the pressure on your clothed cunt, trying to grind down onto his thigh only to be stopped by a bruising grip on your hips. 

“you want me that fuckin’ bad? huh?” joel mocks you, his breath hot and heavy as his mouth hovers over yours, sending chills down your spine and causing more slick to collect in your panties. one hand releases your hip as it snakes up and grips your jaw as he moves your head to the left, inspecting your face before repeating the motion, turning your head to the right. a dark look washes over his face, clearly displeased at your lack of a reply.

“answer me when i speak to you.” he spits out angrily, watching as your eyes widen and a low whine escapes your throat causing his cock to twitch in his jeans.

“y-yes.” you manage to pant out, head buzzing at the sensation of his breath on your face, his burning grip on your face and hips, and the pressure burning a hole into your cunt. 

“yes what?” joel grunts, eyes dragging down your body as a string of obscenities leave his mouth, studying the way the slit of your skirt just barely covers the string of your thong wrapping around your hips and the way your tits press together in your tight top. his bruising grip leaves your face and two fingers press onto your clothed clit, making you writhe against his touch.

“yes sir,” you moan out, brain and body overwhelmed as a groan leaves his lips as he realizes just how wet you are for him, panties thoroughly soaked through, leaving a wet spot on his thigh where he had pressed against you. you whine at his reaction and his eyes flit back up to yours as he quickly flips you around, hands now bracing yourself against the wall as he presses his thick bulge against your ass. 

“think i ‘oughta remind you who you belong to,” joel hurriedly pulls your mini skirt up, letting it sit on your waist as he lets out a low whistle, eyes settling on the black g-string that sat between your asscheeks, a pretty gold heart holding the strings together at the top. 

“what? you jealous that your brother wants to fuck me just as much as you do-” a hand comes down on your right ass cheek with burning strength as you yelp out, tears threatening to fall from your eyes at the mixture of pain and pleasure. “you put these on for me? or are they for whichever guy your greedy self set your eyes on first?” his hand comes down on your ass again, ignoring your snide comment and you push your hips back into him, grinding against his bulge.

“a-ah- i swear joel! i swear i didn’t know he was your broth-“ you stammer before receiving another three smacks on your ass with no soothing rubs to follow, leaving you to stew there with an unbearable burn, sure to turn into welts come the morning.

“dont.” he reaffirms with another smack to your ass before ripping your thong from your body as you cry out.

“joel,” you whine, fingers digging into the brick wall in front of you as your forehead rests against the wet rock. “i really liked that pair…” you mumble as he scoffs at you, fingers tracing delicate lines through your wet, swollen folds. 

“p-please baby i-“ you’re interrupted by another smack to your ass and you moan as you feel more slick pour from your needing cunt, dripping down your thighs. 

“you lost any control you thought you mighta had when you decided to suck on your finger and eye fuck my brother right in fronta’ me, sweetheart.” joel growls into your ear, pressing his body right up against yours as his hair raked itself through your hair, yanking your head back by his makeshift ponytail. 

“joel please, i swear i didn’t know!” you beg, your voice coming out as a breathy whine as your hips grind desperately against him, hoping to find any sort of friction to release the tension coiling in your stomach. 

“ohh it ain’t about knowin’ baby girl,” his fingers make their way back to your soaking cunt, sliding through your folds with ease before rubbing tight circles against your clit, finally giving you what you were craving. 

“you fucked up real good.” joel continues, fingers dragging back up before plunging deep inside of your tight pussy, pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace as your back arches, slapping one of your hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence the broken moan being ripped from your throat. 

“don’t go all quiet on me now darlin’,” he teases, his free arm reaching around to pull your wrist behind your back. “want everyone to know just who you belong to.” joel finishes, his fingers curling up inside you and finding that spot that has you dripping all over his hand, another loud moan being ripped from your throat.

he continues his ministrations, his thumb beginning to rub small circles onto your clit as he adds a third finger into your cunt, your head spinning as your pussy stretches to accommodate his large digits. joels mouth meets your neck, trailing wet kisses down to the crook of your neck where he sucks down hard on your skin.

“o-oh! joel-“ you can feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter, burning hotter, his fingers repeatedly stroke your g-spot, pulling a groan from his mouth as he feels your pussy clenching and fluttering around his fingers. he knows that you’re close, the way your legs are shaking and his name is leaving your lips like a prayer, pulling you closer to the edge. 

“b-baby please, please ‘m so close… wanna come for you baby please,” you can feel it about to crash over you, threatening to make your knees buckle underneath you, stealing your vision. instead of your vision, joel steals your release, ripping his hand away from your dripping cunt as he plants another hard smack on your ass cheek.

“bad girls don’t get to come, baby.” he teases, watching as you cry out and writhe against his body. fat tears start to fall down your cheeks at your desperation and loss of release and joel tuts, his hands finally soothing the red of your ass. 

“think ya needa be fucked till you remember whose you are, ain’t that right?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly with a hint of the same desperation you’re feeling. you nod fervently before receiving a hard slap to your cunt and you cry out, a sob coming from your mouth.

“y-yes! that’s right sir!” you correct yourself, sighing in relief as you hear the familiar jingle of his belt buckle and the zipper of his jeans, wiggling your ass for him while you try to sneakily touch yourself. 

“mm-mm.” he stops you, gripping both of your wrists behind your back as you whine in disappointment.

“dunno why ya think you’re gonna be gettin’ anything ya want after the stunt ya just pulled.” joel grunted, releasing his thick cock from its confines as he tugs his pants down with one hand. a moan escapes your throat as you feel it smack against your ass, warm and heavy. you press your hips backwards, trying to will him into fucking you. 

“ya want my cock baby?” he drawls, lazily dragging his tip through your drooling folds, making you shudder and inhale sharply.

“yes sir,” he hums contentedly and presses forward the smallest bit before stopping, making you whine.

“apologize.” he states flatly, cock unmoving as his hands release your wrists and grip your hips instead, forcing you to stay in place. 

“‘m real sorry baby, please fuck me, i promise i learned my lesson,” you begged, attempting to push your hips backwards despite your clear inability to do so.

“you’re gonna have to try harder than that if you want my cock inside ya, darlin’.” he drawls, going back to rubbing his tip through your folds, making you cry out in desperation as your head starts to spin.

“p-please ‘m so sorry daddy, it’ll never happen again i promise, please jus’ fuck me- i need- i need you joel,” you pant out, crying again as he laughs meanly behind you. “im sor-”

you’re quickly interrupted by him stuffing your cunt with his cock, filling you to the brim in one quick stroke. “atta girl,” he praises, “knew i could get ya to listen to reason.”

you cry out in pleasure as you lose your vision, an orgasm ripping through your body at his words and the feeling of him deep inside of your sopping pussy, body shaking feverishly as he groans behind you.

“thas’ right baby, come all over my cock. show me who you belong to, angel.” he blabbers as he starts to fuck into you, hips slapping against yours as a squelching noise fills the air. joels hands reach down to grab at your ass, kneading the flesh between harsh smacks on your already sore cheeks. 

“f-fuck!” you scream out as he fucks you through your orgasm, sliding his cock in and out of you at a devastating pace. you feel so fucking full, his cock reaching places deep inside you that you hadn’t even known existed until he waltzed into your life. he pulls you close to him, body pressing tightly against his as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

“this perfect pussy ‘s all mine… so fucking tight baby, so perfect,” he groans into your ear, biting down on your shoulder as you shudder and gasp, barely able to make a noise with the way his cock pushes deep inside of you with every thrust of his hips. “say it. say ‘s all mine, sweet girl.” 

“mmmm…” you moan as he rocks your body with his thrusts. “its all yours joel, ‘m pussy ‘s yours,” you scream out as he angles his hips higher, pushing the dip in your back further with one of his hands, cock violently punching into your g-spot.

“o-ohh,” you cry out, your wet walls clenching around his fat cock, relishing in the tingling sensation that grows inside of you.

“p-please don’t stop- ah! ‘m so close,” joel loses any control he previously had as he grabs your hips and slams your cunt onto his cock, the only sounds in the alleyway being the slapping of skin, the squelching of your wet pussy, and your loud moans that you’re sure passerby’s can hear.

“yeah?” he grunts, “such a fuckin’ slut for this cock, baby. such a good girl. come on my cock again, sweet thing,” he commands, and you know your body will obey. a burst of tension rolls through your body as he pulls your hips into him desperately like his life depends on it. you scream out again, voice sore and breaking as your second earth-shattering orgasm is ripped through you. 

“fuck,” he groans, “you like makin’ me jealous baby? you like the way i slap that perfect ass of yours and fuck this tight little pussy?” 

“y-yes! y-yes baby oh my god!” you whine out, coming down from your climax only to be greeted with another one quickly approaching. 

“ya think you can come for me one more time baby?” he moans out, slapping your ass as he keeps fucking into you, your body shuddering as you feel the incredible size of him pumping into your cunt. 

you nod your head feverishly and joel seems to be too lost in the feeling of your tight, wet walls to care that you didnt use your words. 

“who else can make you cream on their cock like this, baby?” joel demands, groaning as he feels his own release quickly approaching as your walls flutter around him, your third climax rising up through your body.

“f-fuck, no one joel, no one but you,” you whine, your pussy spent and leaking your fluid as he continues fucking into you, his balls slapping against your clit bringing you even closer to finishing.

“m gonna come baby, right in this pretty little pussy of yours,” he grunts, slapping your ass as tears spill over, again. “c’mon baby give me one more, i know you can. prove to me you wanna be mine,”

joels hand reaches between your legs and he rubs delicious circles into your clit, your huge fucking mistake (being tommy) is now erased from your mind as your insides burst into flames and your hips snap backwards, meeting his thrusts as your cunt spasms around him. he lets out a long, low groan as he spills his release inside of you, fucking you through your third and final orgasm until his hips still, leaving you panting against the wall.

“such a good girl for me,” he purrs, pulling out and landing a final smack on your pussy, making your entire body convulse in overstimulation. you cry out softly and he pulls your body against him, finally holding you against his torso. you whine as you feel his spend leaking out of your pussy, and his fingers are quick to collect it and plug your dripping hole. 

his fingers leave your cunt moments later and you let out a disappointed sigh as he taps your ass lightly, pressing a kiss to your marked up neck.

“now pull that slutty skirt down and get in the fuckin’ truck.”

hoep you guys enjoyed!!! this is my first time writing smut in like 5 years so i hope its good </3 older men have been consuming my head so i wrote this up in a frenzy :P will be crossposted to ao3!

constructive criticism is welcome as always!

[missarchive]

american jesus² ☆

spencer reid

part one part two part three part four

summary; Spencer continues to spoil you with thoughtful gifts and lavish attention, each gesture reinforcing the growing bond between you both. Despite the lingering questions and unspoken emotions, Spencer becomes more protective and possessive, revealing his vulnerability and need to care of you. As you begin to navigate the complexities of your unconventional arrangement, the lines between business and genuine affection begin to blur, leaving you both caught between desire and uncertainty.

cw; +18 minors dni, sugar baby/daddy dynamics, inexperienced reader, pleasure dom spencer, fingering, dirty talk, munch!spencer, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, reader calls spencer "sir"

an; thank you for so so much love on the first part! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated. P.s. this is written with jesus reid in mind <3 xoxo

You exchanged messages almost daily after that. His words were always careful, deliberate, as if he’d spent hours considering each one. He asked about your life—not in a prying way, but with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know your interests, your struggles, the little details that most people overlooked.

In return, he offered glimpses of himself. He told you about his love of books, how his job kept him busy and isolated, and how he’d joined the site not for anything shallow, but because he craved a connection that he hadn’t found anywhere else.

As the days turned into weeks, your messages grew longer, more personal. You learned that he didn’t like crowded places, that he drank too much tea, and that he had a habit of quoting obscure facts when he was nervous.

But despite the growing intimacy of your conversations, there was always a wall between you—a hesitance to reveal too much. Neither of you had shared your real name or details about your work. It wasn’t unusual for this kind of arrangement, but it made everything feel more fragile, like the wrong word could shatter whatever it was you were building.

And then, one night, he sent a message that changed everything.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ve been thinking... I’d like to meet you in person. If you’re comfortable, of course.

Your heart raced as you read the words. You had been expecting this—waiting for it, even—but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to say.

@ laceandliterature; Are you sure? 

@ thefourthdoctor; I am. But only if you feel ready. I don’t want you to feel pressured.

You hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You wanted to meet him—you couldn’t deny that. But there was a part of you that was afraid. What if he wasn’t what you expected? What if you weren’t what he expected?

@ laceandliterature; Let’s take a little more time. I’m not saying no. Just... not yet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Of course.

@ thefourthdoctor; I’ll wait as long as you need. No pressure.

The conversation continued, and for the next week, things went back to normal—if what you had could even be called that. But the thought of meeting lingered at the back of your mind, growing stronger with every message he sent, every piece of himself he shared.

One night, as you lay in bed, scrolling through his messages, you made up your mind.

@ laceandliterature; Okay, Let’s meet.

@ thefourthdoctor; Are you sure, angel?

@ thefourthdoctor; Yes. I want to meet you, Spencer.

After a few more exchanges, you settled on a quiet café in the city—neutral territory. He insisted on keeping things casual, saying he didn’t want to overwhelm you. If anything, he was a gentleman.

The night before the meeting, you barely slept. You went over everything in your mind a hundred times, questioning your decision, wondering if you were making a mistake. But when the time came, you found yourself standing outside the café, heart pounding as you pushed the door open.

The first time you met Spencer in person, it wasn’t anything like you expected. You had imagined someone cocky, a man accustomed to throwing his money around to get what he wanted. But Spencer wasn’t that. Not even close.

He had chosen a quiet café for your meeting, one tucked away from the bustling city streets, its low lighting and intimate atmosphere offering a sense of privacy. When you arrived, you saw him sitting at a corner table, his long fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, his gaze fixed on a well-worn book.

You almost didn’t approach him. He looked so out of place, like someone who had wandered in by accident, unaware of the implications of what this kind of meeting entailed. But then he glanced up, and his eyes met yours.

You’d recognise those eyes anywhere. They were just as captivating as they had been in his profile picture—intelligent, kind, and curious, but with an edge of something deeper, something darker.

“Hi,” you said, hesitating at the edge of the table.

Spencer stood quickly, his movements awkward but endearing. “Hi. Please, uh, sit. I—I’m Spencer.”

His voice was softer than you expected, but there was a certainty to it that made you feel at ease. As you slid into the chair across from him, you couldn’t help but study him. He was... handsome. 

His hair, a dark cascade of curls that fell just past his shoulders, framed his face like the softest of shadows. Each strand seemed to have a life of its own, unruly and free, yet perfectly suited to him, like a secret kept between the universe and his skin. The golden highlights that kissed the tips caught the light in a way that made him seem almost ethereal, as if sunlight was always seeking to touch him, to linger just a little longer.

His eyes—those eyes—the colour of moss after rain, deep and mysterious, filled with an intelligence that left you feeling both seen and understood, and yet so very far away. There was a quiet intensity in the way they studied everything around him, always searching, always analysing, as though the world was a puzzle he had yet to fully solve. But when they turned toward you, it felt like he was letting the world slip away, if only for a moment, letting you glimpse the tenderness he rarely allowed anyone to see.

His face, pale and angular, was sharp with youth and burdened wisdom all at once. His lips, though soft and pale, would part when he spoke, revealing a mix of shyness and urgency, like every word he shared carried weight. The stubble that traced the sharp edge of his jawline only emphasised the boyishness that lingered beneath the layers of genius and mystery. But it was his smile—rare and fleeting—that truly made your chest ache, a smile that cracked through the fortress around him, like the sun breaking through clouds.

There was something effortlessly magnetic about him, something that made you want to inch closer to understand the stories written in the lines of his face. And yet, just as quickly as he drew you in, there was always an invisible barrier, a space between you and the man that you were still trying to figure out. Spencer Reid was an enigma wrapped in vulnerability, each glance, each gesture, leaving you wanting more of the puzzle to unfold.

The first few minutes were stilted, filled with polite small talk about the weather and the café’s menu. But as the conversation flowed, the tension between you began to ease. Spencer wasn’t like anyone you’d ever met. He spoke with a quiet intensity, his words precise and thoughtful, and he listened just as intently, as if everything you said held a weight he couldn’t ignore.

And then, inevitably, the topic shifted to why you were both there.

“So,” he began, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. “I’m not, um... particularly experienced with this kind of arrangement.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his candour. “You mean being a sugar daddy?”

He winced slightly at the term but nodded. “Yes. That. I—I don’t want you to think that I see this as transactional, at least not in the way it’s usually framed. I’m looking for... connection, I suppose. Someone to talk to. To spend time with. And if financial support is part of that, then I’m happy to provide it.”

His words caught you off guard. Most men on the site were upfront about their intentions—dinners in exchange for companionship, gifts in exchange for discretion. But Spencer’s tone was different. He wasn’t trying to seduce you or impress you with his wealth. He was just... honest.

You leaned back in your chair, studying him. “And what do you expect from me?”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting yours again. “I don’t have expectations. I only have... hopes. That you’ll be honest with me. That we can build something that feels mutually beneficial. And if, at any point, you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me. No strings, no pressure.”

There was a sincerity in his voice that made your chest tighten. This wasn’t a game to him. It wasn’t about power or control. It was about something deeper, something more human.

“Okay,” you said, nodding slowly. “I think we can make that work.”

Over the next few weeks, your relationship settled into a rhythm. Spencer was generous, but not in a way that felt overbearing. And then there was the money.

He transferred it to your account without fanfare, always with a note attached. For groceries. For that art class you mentioned. For you.

At first, it felt strange, accepting so much from him. But Spencer never made it feel transactional. He never demanded anything in return, never made you feel like you owed him. It was simply his way of showing he cared.

The calls became a nightly ritual. He’d ask about your day, encouraging you to share every mundane detail as though it were the most important thing in the world. He never interrupted, never rushed you, and his thoughtful responses made you feel like the centre of his universe.

In return, you learned more about his life. He told you about the pressures of his job, the long hours, the cases that weighed on him. But he never dwelled on the darkness. Instead, he focused on the small joys: the satisfaction of solving a puzzle, the camaraderie of his team, the books he escaped into when the world felt too heavy.

And then there were the gifts.

It started with little things: a beautifully bound notebook because you’d mentioned wanting to journal, a box of your favourite chocolates, a scarf in your favourite colour. But soon, the gifts became more extravagant.

A delivery driver showed up at your door one afternoon with a box containing a designer handbag you’d admired in passing. Another day, you received an email confirming that Spencer had paid off your car loan, the subject line reading simply: You deserve this.

“Spencer,” you said when you called him that night, clutching the phone tightly. “You didn’t have to do that. I never asked for—”

“I know you didn’t,” he interrupted gently. “But I wanted to. Please let me do this for you.”

It was hard to argue with him when he sounded so sincere.

The next time you met in person, he handed you a small velvet box across the table. You opened it to find a delicate gold bracelet, simple but exquisite, the kind of thing that felt like it belonged in a museum.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice catching. “This is too much.”

His expression softened, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you fasten the bracelet around your wrist. “Nothing I give you will ever feel like enough,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “But I’ll keep trying.”

He spoiled you in other ways too. He insisted on picking up the check whenever you went out, no matter how much you protested. When you mentioned that your laptop was acting up, a brand-new one arrived at your doorstep the next day.

But it wasn’t just about the money or the gifts. It was the way he made you feel cherished, valued, as though your happiness was the most important thing in the world to him.

One night, as you lay in bed after a long call, you found yourself smiling at the thought of him. It was more than just an arrangement now. Somewhere along the way, you’d started to care about him—not for what he could give you, but for who he was.

The low hum of your phone’s speaker filled the quiet of your bedroom as you lay sprawled across your bed, Spencer’s voice soothing and familiar on the other end of the line. Tonight’s call had started like all the others—a mix of light teasing and genuine curiosity—but somewhere along the way, you felt the tone shift.

“Can I ask you something?” you ventured, fiddling with the bracelet he’d given you, its delicate chain glinting in the soft light of your bedside lamp.

“Of course,” Spencer replied, his voice gentle.

“How do you afford all of this?” you asked, hesitant but unable to keep the question bottled up any longer. “The gifts, the...everything. I mean, you’re so generous, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful, but I can’t help but wonder.”

There was a pause on the other end, long enough for doubt to creep into your mind. You opened your mouth to take it back, but then he spoke, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s a fair question,” he said softly. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

You heard him exhale, the sound heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wasn’t always this...comfortable,” he began. “For most of my life, I never cared much about money. I didn’t really need to. My job covered the basics, and I didn’t have anyone to spend it on—not until now.”

His words made your heart tighten.

“What kind of job?” you asked tentatively.

“I was with the FBI,” he said, and though his tone was steady, there was a weight behind the words. “I worked as a criminal profiler for over a decade. It wasn’t easy, but it was...fulfilling, in its own way. We dealt with some of the worst humanity has to offer, but knowing we were helping people made it worth it.”

You sat up a little straighter, the revelation catching you off guard. “That sounds...intense.”

“It was,” he admitted. “But I loved it. The work gave me purpose. Until I got injured in the field,” he said quietly. “A knee injury. Nothing life-threatening, but bad enough that I couldn’t keep up with the demands of the job. I had to retire early.”

You could hear the mix of resignation and lingering frustration in his voice, and it tugged at you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, meaning it.

“Don’t be,” he replied, a hint of a smile creeping back into his tone. “It gave me time to focus on other things—like figuring out what I wanted out of life. I realised I’d spent so much of my time chasing after criminals and trying to make the world a safer place, but I’d never really lived for myself.”

You bit your lip, unsure what to say.

“I had money saved up,” he continued, his tone matter-of-fact. “I never spent much on myself. Just the necessities and the occasional book. So, when I found myself with all this extra time and money... I didn’t know what to do with it. And then I found the site.”

The mention of the website—the place where your strange, beautiful relationship had begun—sent a rush of warmth and something like embarrassment through you.

“I wasn’t looking for anything romantic,” he said quickly, as though reading your mind. “I just wanted...connection. Someone to talk to. And then I found you.”

You smiled, your heart softening. “And now you’re spoiling me rotten.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I don’t see it that way. I like taking care of you. It makes me happy.”

You felt your cheeks flush. “You don’t have to, though. You’ve already done so much.”

“I want to,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I spent years putting my energy into a job that left me drained. Now, I finally get to do something that feels good. Something that matters to me. And you matter to me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt your chest tighten with emotion.

“Spencer,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your heart full.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

The silence that followed was warm, comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no matter how unconventional your relationship was, it worked. For both of you.

The next time you saw each other, things were different. You could feel the air between you crackling with an electric charge. The conversation flowed easily, but there was an undeniable tension lingering beneath the surface. Every touch seemed to hold more weight, every glance more meaningful.

After dinner, Spencer invited you back to his apartment. You could tell he was being cautious—he didn’t want to rush anything—but you could also feel that he was testing boundaries, subtly claiming his space. As you sat next to him on his worn out leather couch, his hand brushed against yours, and it felt like the world narrowed down to just the two of you. The quiet intimacy of the moment was powerful, and you both knew you couldn’t keep pretending that your relationship was just a simple arrangement anymore.

His voice broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he said, his words low, careful. “About what we’re doing, and what it means. I can’t keep giving you everything and pretending it’s nothing. It’s not just about the money or the gifts anymore. I want to be more than that for you.”

You felt a surge of emotion, something between excitement and fear. This was what you had been afraid of—the moment when you’d realise that you wanted more, that this wasn’t just some transaction for you either. And you could see in Spencer’s eyes that he was struggling with the same feelings.

“I don’t want you to think that I only care about the money,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. 

Spencer’s gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I know,” he whispered, his hand slipping into yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I can’t stop myself from wanting to give you everything. I’m not used to feeling like this. Like I’m needed. I’ve spent so much of my life in control, always keeping my distance... but with you, it’s different.”

You squeezed his hand, understanding what he meant. You didn’t need him to explain further. There was an unspoken connection between you two now—a bond that was undeniable, something more than the surface-level arrangement you’d initially started with.

“I want to give you everything too,” you said softly, leaning in closer. “But you have to promise me something—promise me that this isn’t just about the money. Promise me that you actually want me.”

Spencer’s eyes held yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, his gaze so deep it felt as though he could see every hidden part of you. The air between you thickened, the unspoken tension finally reaching its breaking point. He took a slow step forward, the warmth of his body enveloping you, and for a heartbeat, everything else ceased to exist.

His hand lifted, cupping your cheek in a soft, yet possessive way, as if he was both cherishing and claiming you all at once. “I promise,” the gentle brush of his thumb over your skin sent a flutter through your chest, and before you could process it, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters, savouring the newness of it. But the moment you responded, the kiss deepened, urgency flooding in. Spencer’s lips moved against yours with a fervour that mirrored the racing pulse in your veins. His hands, once gentle, now framed your face with a desperate kind of need, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Every touch, every press of his lips against yours, was electric. You could feel the raw intensity of everything he was holding back in that kiss—the longing, the desire, the tension of months spent on the edge, waiting for this moment. And when his tongue traced the line of your lower lip, a quiet gasp escaped you, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss further, drawing you in like a magnet.

Your hands, almost instinctively, found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the strands that had once teased you from a distance, now so close you could feel the weight of them. His hair was soft, the strands slipping between your fingers as you tugged him closer, urging him to kiss you more fiercely.

As he kissed his way down your body, you could feel the anticipation building inside of you. You loved how he savoured you, like a piece of art he needed to take his time with. His fingers slid along your inner thighs, spreading you open for him. He groaned, his breath hot against your skin. “Fuck, baby,” he murmured against your clit. “Look at you. Already dripping wet for me. What am I gonna do with you? Perfect, perfect girl.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his tongue swirled around your clit, the sensation of his warm mouth sending waves of pleasure through you. You arched your back off the couch, your hands tangling in his hair.

“Please,” you begged, your eyes squeezed shut as you felt the pressure building. “Please, sir. Please make me cum.”

Spencer moaned, his tongue dipping inside of you before returning to your clit. Teasing it gently with his tongue, his fingers slipping inside of you, working you open. You were already close, your walls tightening around his fingers as he fucked them into you slowly. Picking up the pace, his mouth latched onto your clit as you fell apart, your body trembling with your orgasm. 

Spencer didn’t give you a second to catch your breath before he was kissing you again, his tongue pushing past your lips to taste you, tip of his cock nudging against your cunt. You weren’t even sure when he’d taken his clothes off, not that it mattered now. You whimpered as he slid inside of you, his cock stretching you open. He pulled back slightly, hips rolling against your own. “Keep your eyes open,” he commanded. “Need to see your face when you cum. Need to see what I do to you.”

You nodded, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he picked up the pace. He was relentless, slamming into you with deep, powerful thrusts. 

You weren’t used to coming more than once in a row, with your poor excuses of previous partners, but with Spencer, it felt natural. He pushed you higher than you knew was possible, taking you to the edge of sanity every time you were together. And when you came, it was like a floodgate opened up, and all of that pent-up desire came pouring out of you.

He was whispering things to you, things that made you blush and preen, words that made you feel beautiful, wanted. You’d never felt like this before. You felt like a completely different person with him, someone who was capable of more than you ever thought.

“That’s it,” he encouraged. “Give it to me, princess. Let me feel you. Fuck, you feel so good around me,” he kissed you deeply as he drove inside of you, the pressure inside of you growing. “Cum for me, angel. Cum all over my cock.”

You heard him through a haze, your body trembling and shaking as the second orgasm rolled through you. You felt his cock pulse inside of you as he came, his teeth sinking gently into your neck as he rode out his own release. Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him as close as possible as you hold onto him, his body pressing into yours.

Pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, he whispers into your skin. “Stay the night?” He asked. “I don’t want you to leave yet, just got you here.” His voice was soft, gentle, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. You didn’t want to go either. You wanted to stay like this, wrapped up in his arms, for as long as possible. And that terrified you more than anything else. “Please?”

He looked at you, his eyes dark and sincere. Your heart fluttered at the look he was giving you. It was one you’d never seen before, one that made your breath catch in your throat.

 It was a look that said he wanted more, and that scared you. But it also filled you with a warmth you couldn’t deny.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “Okay.” And as Spencer pulled you back into his arms, kissing you gently, you realised that you might just be in trouble. He was already pulling you in, tempting you to stay. You were already falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it. “I’ll stay.” You agreed.

 “For tonight.” You added. You weren’t going to admit to more than that, not yet. “Just tonight.” Spencer nodded, his lips returning to yours.

You knew it was dangerous, you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You wanted to be his, even if it was just for one night. You wanted to let him own you, let him love you. Even if it was just temporary, you wanted to feel that love for as long as you could. You knew it would hurt in the end, but you were too far gone to stop it now.

And when he whispered your name against your lips, you almost believed that it was real. That this wasn’t just temporary, but forever. Almost. You allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment, to believe the things he whispered to you. To believe that maybe this was it.

Maybe he was your forever, and you were his. Maybe this was something that could last longer than just one night.

Won't you take me to heaven tonight? You know you're my weakness American Jesus, save me You're the greatest love of my life

next part

[writerpeach]

Obsession

LE SSERAFIM Miyawaki Sakura x m!reader

22k words

---

Read on AO3

"More wine, sir?"

The waitress stands beside your table, patient as can be when you hand her your empty glass, and it’s full again before you blink. 

You’ll need every drop tonight.

Seated at some exclusive restaurant overlooking the city skyline, you’re surrounded by others—colleagues, business partners, mostly unfamiliar faces. Sakura sits beside you, elegant and adorned in black. One leg crossed neatly over the other, her wine glass untouched. She hasn't said much to you in the last fifteen minutes, but her hand rests possessively on your thigh beneath the table, reminding you she's here. Despite it being an almost weekly occurrence, you've never been able to get used to these sorts of situations.

And when the waitress leaves the table, that hand squeezes a little firmer, demanding your attention. Sakura turns, and you glance her way.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asks, but it's not really a question. The grip on your thigh is all too telling, and it doesn't waver when you try to shift the slightest bit under the table.

"No, not really."

It's the truth, and Sakura would know better if you tried to play this off. Her lips curl into the smallest of smiles, eyes narrowing as her thumb rubs idly along your inner thigh. She's dressed to kill tonight. A tight, figure-flattering dress, clingy in all the best ways, but showing just a hint of cleavage. Narrow straps resting over her bare shoulders, long, silky, dark hair drapes loose behind her neck, with that sheen on her lips that makes them look even fuller than normal.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe it. 

"I know these events aren't particularly enjoyable for you," Sakura replies, sighing with something akin to annoyance. Her wine glass lifts to her painted lips, just the smallest sip, crimson as the lipstick smeared onto the rim. "But I appreciate you coming with me anyways. It's only another hour."

Only an hour. The wine glass still feels pretty heavy in your hand, and the thought of spending another minute like this sounds like torture. You give a resigned nod regardless. Sakura turns her gaze elsewhere—someone trying to catch her attention across the table.

Sipping your wine is about the only thing you have any interest in. 

You rest a hand atop Sakura's, as if it's the only thing keeping you sane right now. A small glance to smile again, like she's silently rewarding your bravery, then back to those conversations that you can't begin to contribute to. 

Somehow, you manage to get through it all—if only for dessert you hear being ordered for the entire table. By the time it arrives, you've finished a second glass of wine, and Sakura's is still almost full, lingering idly between those delicate fingers, like it's all for show. Nothing else to do but indulge, at least. Especially when she feeds you the first bite.

It's the sweetest of bliss when she excuses the two of you an hour and ten minutes later, ignoring the comments of surprise and pleas for her to stick around. She doesn't have time for that, and neither do you. 

"Benefits of being the boss. People don't ask too many questions."

There's not much you can do but agree. When those glossy lips crash against your own, it has you a bit lost, distracted in the moment. But before you can really fall deeper into the heat of her kiss, she's pulling away—the slightest hint of that lip gloss transferred onto you.

"You're quiet tonight."

"Am I?"

There's a pause. Sakura looks into your eyes, like she's trying to stare inside your soul. But she can't seem to find anything, turning on her heels to lead the way once the elevator opens.

"You were. Come."

Sakura's heels clack at a quick, almost impatient pace across the smooth, marble floor. You follow close behind, gaze inevitably drifting along those tantalizing hips and that dangerously short dress. You're not quite sure you'll ever get over her legs—silk stockings barely hiding that flawless skin, enough of a distraction that it takes you a moment to notice that she's waiting by the valet booth.

It doesn't take long for a sleek, black convertible to pull up, and you wait with her at the curb until the keys are handed over. She stops you at the door, holding her hand out expectantly with a silent stare. 

"I'm driving. You've had too much to drink," Sakura chides, the slightest touch of disapproval in her eyes. Yet, she’s not wrong, given she barely finished half a glass while you can feel the lingering effects much more. Still, the way she says it still feels a bit condescending, like you've failed some test you didn't even know existed.

So you keep quiet and simply obey, passing her the keys as you saunter over to the passenger side, easing yourself into the plush leather of the seat. She waits until the two of you are both settled in, car purring to life and seatbelts secured.

"Good boy."

The apartment door barely shuts behind you, and then her mouth's on your neck again. Sakura can't seem to keep her hands off you once you're alone, but her kisses are possessive, teeth scraping, nails digging into your scalp as she drags her fingers through your hair. You can't deny the enjoyment of her pinning your body against the closed door, trapped by the weight of her lithe figure against the wooden surface. 

Just like that, she pulls away as fast as she started. Sakura stares hard at you, lip gloss smudged across her lips while you wait in the deafening quiet.

“So—" Sakura starts as she holds on to the kitchen counter and steps out of her heels. “You were enjoying yourself tonight, weren't you?"The question lingers more than it should, and the answer is anything but yes—but the hesitation sparks suspicion in her eyes. 

"No, not—" 

Sakura doesn’t give you a chance to finish. What’s next is a rough slap across your face that snaps you out of any protest that might be forming—a complete 180 from a second ago. The sting doesn't even register as much as her words do.

“You let her touch you.”

Her? You freeze. With how many people had been around tonight, that could’ve been anyone. Not to mention you’re not exactly in the business of letting anyone other than Sakura lay a finger on you. 

"Who are you even talking about?” 

There's another sharp slap that shuts you right up. Once again, you can’t even begin to process her words, because there’s only one person you’re interested in, and that’s Sakura. But you scatter to form a checklist in your mind: the waitress, one of Sakura’s colleagues, maybe someone in passing—you don't have a clue. The last hour of that whole event was such a blur that you’ve pushed out any thoughts that don’t involve that delicious slice of cake or Sakura. 

"Don't act clueless. The blonde across the table? With her fake fucking tits falling out of her dress who kept trying to undress you with her eyes? Ring a bell, yet?" Sakura's words are cold and accusatory, and it's like she's telling an entirely different story than what happened tonight.

"That blonde? She was drunk," you insist, wondering why Sakura is so concerned with something so preposterous . "I didn't—"

A third slap. This one connects hard enough to make you stumble back. You've gotten your fair share of jealousy in the past from Sakura. Hell, you've even seen her practically ready to pounce at another girl just for breathing the same air as you do. And now? The venomous way she looks at you, and talks to you. It's unnerving.

“What, are her tits better than mine?” 

“No, of course not. Your tits are fine—“

If you could choose the moment your world stopped, it would have been half a second after those words fell out. Unfortunately, that’s all Sakura needs to really lose it.

"Fine? Fine!?" The sound of her voice cracking breaks the deafening silence, and if you hadn't done anything before—well, you certainly have now. There's no return from this. "No, my tits are fucking perfect. If they were just fine, she wouldn't have had you so worked up in front of a table full of my subordinates. She's married, you know. But I guess you were too busy staring at her plastic fucking tits to even notice the ring that whore pretends to care about. "

"Sakura, I—"

"Don't fucking lie to me," Sakura hisses through clenched teeth. "That's my secretary. She's the type that can't take no for an answer, and I won't have her thinking you're fair game. You let her touch you. And worse, you smiled.”

Each word that comes out her mouth just gets more heated, like the accusation is more and more real each time one gets added. Her hands ball into fists, trying to stop herself from giving you another hard slap. “I don’t care what excuse you think you have. You belong to me.”

You can't even get another word out before Sakura pulls you away from the front door and drags you down the hall toward the bedroom. She practically throws you inside. Her manicured fingernails slide up under your chin, scratching along the edge of your cheek as she tilts your face upwards, until you're staring at her dead in the eye.

“Strip.”

You freeze, just for a second—long enough for her to slap you again.

“I said strip. Now." 

There's no room for argument. Not that you'd dare say another word. Your clothes hit the floor one piece at a time, and Sakura watches each layer that leaves you more exposed. Once you're left in nothing but your underwear, she grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks, snapping your head back without warning.

“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”

Another icy glare, and then you're shoved down onto your knees on the carpeted floor. Sakura towers over you, immediately lifting a foot and resting it square on your chest until she presses hard enough for you to collapse back onto the floor. And then the weight of her stocking-clad foot rests right on your face, until there's nothing you can really do—except breathe her in.

Not even a second to react as Sakura glares daggers at you from above and grinds her foot roughly across your lips. Her painted toes, all wrapped in silk, press harder, prying into your mouth to silence any potential response. You try to gasp for a breath, barely managing to once the scent of her foot starts filling your senses.

Shoving her foot deeper against your face, she’s waiting for an answer you can't give. Your vision soon gets consumed by dark fabric, and even though it's suffocating, the warm weight of her silky sole still has the capacity to arouse you. A moment later, she yanks her foot back from your mouth, finally granting you a brief chance to catch a few desperate gasps of air. 

"Open your mouth. Wide," Sakura orders. You do as instructed, and as soon as your lips part, she leans in close. She spits right into your mouth—once, then again, the third landing on your cheek. “Swallow." 

Without even thinking, you do as she asks. Because you always do. 

“Good boy. Now tell me—who do you belong to?"

“Y-you, fuck, I belong to you." 

"Wrong fucking answer," Sakura spits out, and her foot shoves right back onto your face, toes digging in harder. "Try again. Who. Do. You. Belong. To?"

Your lips fumble against the ball of her foot, desperate to spit out the right words when the weight leaves for another fleeting moment. “M-mommy owns me,” you stumble out, louder this time. “I belong to mommy. Only mommy, no one else."

There it is. The one word that makes Sakura's glare lighten up the tiniest bit. Her lips curl up into something resembling a small smirk, only for the pressure to come back tenfold, leaving you in this twisted combination of arousal and fear. The weight of her foot lingers with your nose practically buried into her arch. "Not a very good boy today if I have to fucking remind you, are you?"

But instead of easing her foot away to allow a response, Sakura only brings her toes back into your lips, hoping you'll get the message. Which you do—of course, because anything else would be a foolish mistake. So instead, you part your lips for the thin nylon covering the pretty pink polish, sucking as best you can in your position. 

It's sloppy and desperate, and only lasts a moment longer before the taste disappears from your mouth as she yanks her foot away. "That's all you get. My little foot worshiping slut can suck my pretty toes later. I know how much this turns you on, so that's why we're stopping here.” 

Sakura ignores your disappointed groan, sliding her foot down to your chest and shifting her weight to press harder. "Stay right there. Don't move. If you even think about touching yourself, you'll have a lot more problems than you started with."

All you can do is watch as she slides one strap of her dress off her bare shoulder, then the other, the entire thing crumpling to the floor in a matter of seconds. Underneath the fallen fabric, you get a view of a nearly naked Sakura, pink satin holding her shapely breasts up, a flimsy matching thong clinging to the curve of her hips, with pretty pink flowers along the lace. 

It's pretty—as expected, because anything Sakura wears is. It’s hard to resist staring, but you know that’s the whole point. She wants you to fall for the sight and beg. 

"You're not allowed to leave this spot without my permission. Are we clear?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?" Sakura demands, kicking the dress to the side so she can straddle your waist, just a little tease to let you feel the wetness between her legs. 

"Yes, mommy. Crystal clear."

"Was that so hard? So you can be a good boy when you want.” 

Easing up her weight, she lifts off to slide her panties down her creamy legs, all while watching your flustered features. 

Sakura positions into a squat—right above your face. Her immaculate thighs straddle your head as she inches her ass down inch by slow inch, and soon you're met with the delicious sight of her wet cunt barely grazing your lips. "Keep your tongue out. Maybe if you do a good job making me cum—you'll get to do the same."

No time for an answer when the rest of her weight follows, filling the room with the sinfully sweet sounds of her moans. 

Your mouth has never gotten such a workout as Sakura grinds her slick cunt along the surface of your tongue, wrapping her hands around the sides of your head to lock you in place. She tastes like heaven, and god, your cock is aching and begging to slide into that wet heat, for more than just this lingering taste on your lips.

But she's careful to not let you get more than you deserve. Even as you're suffocated with this intoxicating scent and her nails dig deep into your scalp, you don't try to get selfish. Just small laps along the soft, dripping flesh of her cunt, listening to her every instruction, to every pleasure-filled sigh. 

"Fuck, such a good boy,” Sakura moans, squeezing your head tight between her warm thighs. "Need to make it up to mommy after what you did, hm? Hope you haven't forgotten I get to use you however I want. Whenever I want. No matter where we are, or whatever you're doing. You’re my obedient little toy to have my way with.” 

How could you ever forget your place, your purpose? 

Always in the back of your mind—a reminder in the form of a collar or rope burning into your skin, or when she slips a hand in your pants without warning, sliding them off so she can ride you. Even if that's during a bus ride or when a taxi is dropping her home. A little extra tip to keep the cabbie quiet, or even at a bookstore—where she demands your fingers in the manga section until she cums hard.

That applies more now than it ever has, using your face to get herself off. 

Words hardly matter once her pleasure really starts building. All that matters is her wetness smearing along every bit of your features, lips open and tongue lapping anything and everything it can, the scent enough to drive you mad. Sakura just uses you like her own personal toy, grinding and rolling her hips onto the length of your tongue with no rhythm in the slightest. And the harder you're pinned against the carpet, the harder your cock throbs without any touch.

"Ah, fuck—that's it. Good boy. Making mommy feel so good, aren't you? Keep sucking my clit just like that, god," she sighs, riding your face faster until her moans get just a little more out of control, nearly drowning you with the warm, dripping arousal spilling from her cunt.

Nothing you can do but listen and keep your tongue out. That’s your purpose, what a toy exists for, to be used at Sakura’s whims, to keep her thighs locked around your head to ride your face with no relent.

"Can't even breathe right now, can you? Maybe that's how you should stay. Mommy's dumb little fucktoy, on your back where you belong, worshiping me like the goddess I deserve to be treated like. And If you're really lucky, might bend you over and get my strap in that tight ass."

That all sounds perfect. But you know she'll make you work for that. That's no issue—because the longer she's satisfied, the bigger your reward will be. Even if she doesn't grant that, you don't care. Her pleasure is the only thing you can think about, and all you can do is lick and slurp, fueled by this delectable taste that makes you insatiable for more.

And when Sakura's hips roll with that same ferocious pace, you know she's starting to give you her all. "Right there, fuck. Gonna cum, you're gonna make mommy cum on your pathetic fucking face. Don't you dare stop. Don't stop, don't stop, yes, fuck—"

A last loud, pleased sigh is all that it takes for her thighs to clamp tight enough to steal your breath away. Sakura lets out a moan that fills the entire room—toes curling against the carpet as she rocks herself through the shudders and moans. Nothing quite like the feeling of her convulsing on your tongue, that beautiful face contorting in bliss, nails digging into your skull when you're locked between her thighs with the drenching spill of her slick across your tongue.

You've never been more happy to be covered in her, in the sweet essence that doesn't seem to have any end in sight. If anything, her thighs grip tighter as you drink down each and every drop with long, devoted laps like you'll simply die without it. Sakura lingers in that moment, letting the high take over as her eyes drift over your messy face.

"Good boy," she mutters under her ragged breaths, tangling her fingers through your hair. A moment to gather herself, and then she's lifting herself away with an unsteady movement in her legs. "Got a little messy for me, didn't you?" 

You nod, almost disappointed that you can’t breathe her in again. "F-fuck, you taste so good, mommy, W-want more—"

Sakura ignores such a request. Her thumb slips between your lips, forcing you to be quiet as she gazes at the mess all along your lips and chin. "That's too bad. I'm already done, and we can't have you being greedy now. Mommy is tired and needs to shower after a long night out, so you'll just have to take care of yourself. Feel free to jerk off on my panties or whatever you need to do. That's all the reward you get."

It takes everything not to whine in protest, trying to hold in the frustration as Sakura gets back on her feet. She picks up her discarded dress, turning to the door. "Well? What do you say to that? Aren't I being more than generous here to let you use my panties as a cumrag?"

"Yes, thank you." A sigh escapes under your breath as you pick the small, lacy fabric up off the floor, not even hiding the pitiable expression on your face. "Th-thank you, mommy, thank you. Please have a good shower."

Sakura doesn't leave until she sees you slowly tug down your underwear, giving her a view of that poor, hard cock of yours straining and begging for a bit of attention. You can't even help yourself, desperately starting to stroke when she makes her exit, with her panties bunched up in one hand while the other wraps tightly around the head of your cock. It doesn't take you too long—to reach the edge as your thoughts linger back to the image of Sakura with your cock slamming inside her tight, wet little cunt that feels way better than your own pathetic hand.

The fabric is soon stained with your thick, sticky release, letting out a disappointed sigh as you spill more than the silk can soak up. It doesn't satisfy one bit, cock still needy and throbbing. But you'll take what you can get, you suppose, gazing at the bathroom door, hoping she'll come back any moment and let you bury that neglected cock deep inside of her.

Another minute of stroking yourself idly, long after the arousal has faded—and no Sakura in sight. So you slip your boxers back up, lying there defeated on the floor without even trying to clean yourself or her soaked panties, and crawl into her bed to wait for her there.

"Won't be home until late. Don't worry about me if you want to order in," Sakura says in the bathroom mirror as you finish up brushing your teeth.

More disappointment washes over you. You can't help but wonder how late Sakura really means. Usually her definition of late isn't until midnight or maybe later, sometimes even showing up when you've already fallen asleep. 

"That's three days this week," you complain, not caring about how whiny and petulant you sound. But she doesn't seem too affected as she leans down towards the mirror, finishing up her makeup. 

"I know, I'm sorry. Just how it has to be when we have big project deadlines," Sakura sighs. "This one's important, so we have to go all in. The client's an ass, and—"

"I get it, it's okay. I'll miss you."

Silence lingers, as does her hesitation, wondering how she wants to respond. Sakura sets her mascara down on the counter before offering a quick kiss on your cheek. "That's sweet of you to say."

That's all that’s uttered, leaving the sink to finish getting ready. Almost on autopilot, you spit the remnants of your toothpaste out, rinsing your toothbrush before placing it back in the holder while your thoughts wander away. The water runs for a short bit while the sound of a door shutting echoes in the apartment, and you're not sure whether you want to endure an empty shower for another time this week.

"I'll have the iced peach tea. What do you want, babe? My treat," Sakura asks you, fingers gliding across the touch screen. 

"Uh—same thing is fine. Thanks," you answer, smiling back at her.

"Sweet or buttered popcorn?"

"Whatever you want. I'm okay with anything."

Sakura ponders on the answer a little too long as the two of you stand there, in the crowded line of people waiting at the concession stand. You look at all the options—way too many options (who the hell eats dry popcorn at the movies?) before settling on one large drink with two straws, a bucket of buttered popcorn, and two boxes of gummy bears, the sour kind. She taps her credit card on the screen, and seconds later, you've got your hands full. 

"Middle seat or end seat?" 

"Whatever is—"

"No, you choose. You let me pick everything else."

There's a bitterness to her tone, like your refusal to give a simple answer is somehow offending her. It doesn't stop you from hesitating for just another second.

"Middle. Wanna sit in the middle, please." 

"Good choice," Sakura says, pleased with a little smile when you decide for once. She leads the way up the stairs, purse on her shoulder while she searches for the perfect spot, all the way to the top row of seats with not a single person in sight. "Here. We're sitting here."

Letting her pass in front, you wait for her to sit in the middle, and she tosses her purse into the empty seat next to her and claims the cupholder on the right. You slide into the seat beside her, settling in with the popcorn bucket in your lap, as Sakura kicks off her heels to prop her bare feet on the chair in front of her, crossing one ankle over the other. Not exactly the most proper etiquette, but there's not a single soul to complain. 

The lights go dim. She digs the box of gummies out from her purse, grabbing a handful to shovel into her mouth at once while the trailers start. 

You recline back into the comfortable seat, sipping your peach tea as the lights dim further, and Sakura's manicured nails graze over the armrest, over to your thigh. She doesn't do anything more than give a gentle squeeze—but the familiar touch hasn't felt all too familiar as of late, enough to tense your muscles the slightest bit in response.

"Pass me the popcorn." 

Snatching up a handful before handing the bucket over, your attention turns back to the screen—only to lose interest moments later. Sakura doesn't even bother to grab any before she's setting it on the floor below and standing up out of her chair. You glance at her, more than a little confused, but it all gets cleared up once she tugs her sundress up her waist—and slowly, begins to tug her panties down her legs.

"What are you…" you start to ask, not able to finish once the tiny pair is draped around her ankles. Sakura kicks the blue lace away and sits back on the seat behind her, legs spread open enough that you're given an enticing view of that pretty little cunt. 

Your jaw drops. 

"Take your pants off. Now. Get that cock out and start stroking."

"W-what—"

"Your pants. Off. I'm fucking you, in case you were wondering. Or do you plan to keep me waiting?" 

"Wait, s-someone will—"

Sakura turns her head, looking behind before returning her gaze with a glare, daring you to keep arguing. "Who? Not a single fucking person in here. Why do you think I picked the worst movie possible to go and see? At this hour? Because I planned on doing exactly this." 

You're not exactly in a position to argue—especially with the way she's teasing a hand between her legs. So you unfasten the button on your pants and tug the zipper down as fast as possible, immediately feeling a rush of relief the second the fabric isn't constricting you anymore. 

Haste in every action as you reach to stroke yourself—but not sure you have the guts to do it yet. She gives you that one look—that threatening, commanding glare that tells you she's not fucking around, and you don't want to risk being disobedient.

So your hand closes around your cock, letting out a small groan when Sakura rewards you with that sweet smile of hers. 

"Doesn't that feel good? Trust me, we're not going to get caught. It's completely empty, no one can see us up here, and I know you want that big thing inside me. I've been neglecting you lately—this is my way of making up for it."

Even as you stare right in between her legs, at how wet she looks in the dim lighting, you still can't believe you're doing this.

"Just keep jerking off for me. Touch yourself for mommy. That's what a good boy would do."

Your grip tightens, stroking yourself while Sakura stares with that devilish gleam in her eye. She knows how weak this leaves you, how quickly your control will be given up while you take your time soaking up the view. 

And if that’s not enough to deal with, Sakura bites her lip, closing her eyes briefly as she focuses on her pussy, two fingers spreading those soaked folds to show off where exactly she wants you. 

"There you go. Keep pumping that hard cock for me. Nice and slow," she tells you, one finger starting to swirl in slow circles around her clit, sending a jolt through her whole body. "You can see how wet mommy is. I know you can’t wait for how good it'll feel to have that thick, throbbing cock buried inside my tight cunt. Tell me."

"Fucking—n-need it. Your pussy looks so soaked, god, I just wanna—"

"Tell mommy where you want it."

"Inside, I—wanna shove my cock right into that tight pussy—can I?"

Sakura chuckles softly, brushing damp hair away from her forehead as she teases her fingers at that dripping entrance of hers, dipping into it so you can see just how ready for it she is. "No. Because good boys don't ask—they beg."

"God, please. I wanna fuck you so bad. Need your tight, perfect cunt wrapped around my cock, need to see those tits bounce in my face—need to make you moan." 

"Getting there, but I need more convincing. Not sure you really want this pussy…” 

You can barely handle the anticipation as you fist that sensitive cock and pump furiously while Sakura slides those same digits deeper, in and out without care. Her wetness is audible, every messy, breathless whimper more broken than the last. "Want mommy to ride you like a toy? Use you and fuck myself however I want, since that's the only way you can please me right?"

"Fuck yes—please, fuck, anything, god—please, please let me inside you—"

"Anything?" Sakura repeats under her breath, moaning softly to herself before glancing down at how pathetic you've gotten. And you don't even hide it—you look as desperate as you can with this painfully hard cock straining in your grasp, needing it anywhere but your palm. 

"Anything, f-fuck—"

"Well then... we'll worry about that later. For now, shut up, sit still, and keep doing exactly what you're told until I say otherwise."

"Y-yes, mommy."

Nothing quite like the rush that shoots up your spine as Sakura hops off her seat, not even a second wasted as she climbs into your lap to straddle you while you look up with nothing but desire—and a mix of disbelief. "Bonus points if you can make me cum before the movie starts." 

You’ve got her cold hand palming over your length, getting as tight of a grip as she can—but instead of sinking down, Sakura inches her soaked cunt along the length, drenching you in the slippery evidence of her arousal as you take in the feeling. God, even this painful tease feels incredible against you, dripping straight onto your lap. And then she lifts up enough for the head of your cock to push between those drenched folds, sinking down on the first half—and pausing just for a few seconds as she lets out this satisfied sigh.

"Fuck," is all you manage before you realize your mistake.

Sakura scowls immediately, and she leans in close to cup your cheeks, ignoring the whimper that you let out. "None of that. What did I say about staying quiet? I'll give you one more chance—no more warnings." 

An obedient nod is all that you give. Sakura continues her descent down the rest of your length, nothing short of orgasmic the warmth you've been yearning for—slick walls clenching around while she shudders atop you. "Good boy. Didn't mean to make you feel ignored this week. But you get it, don't you? Mommy has a lot of important things to deal with..."

Words aren't really an option as Sakura gazes into your eyes and you can barely return the look. All you can do is focus on the vice grip squeezing your cock, and the slick mess spilling from her cunt as she rides without the slightest effort—all to the backdrop of the loud music playing on the movie screen.

"Mm, that's it. Splitting me open," she breathes out, digging her nails into the side of your skull as she finds a rhythm she likes. Every stroke, your sensitive cockhead kisses her deepest parts, stretching out her cunt in all the right ways. The lack of attention has turned you into the mess she loves seeing you in, and you grit your teeth in a poor attempt to muffle any noises while her hips move faster than you can handle. 

But god, does her cunt feel fucking good. Better than heaven. Nothing could ruin the way she sinks down on you, only to slowly slide back up, and then drop all her weight onto your lap. Not even the lingering worries that someone might still catch you.

Sakura works her hips a little faster, lips finding yours in an attempt to silence any noises. She bites that bottom lip of yours—tugs harshly for a few moments until she breaks away to lick at your earlobe, breath heavy on your skin as her strokes get harder to deal with, the wetness between her legs coating every inch. 

"You wanna make a noise, don't you? But you're being so good instead—you'll hold it all back until I'm done with you. Just in case though, I've got an idea on how to keep you quiet—"

A few more rough bounces and she's slipping the straps of her dress down her arms, enough to let her delicious breasts spring free. With no further instructions, you're on them in a flash, sucking a pretty pink nipple between your lips without a second thought.

"Ah, that's my good boy. Keeping that needy mouth busy for mommy." 

Sakura tugs at your hair as she sighs deeper, picking up the pace while the hunger inside you consumes. Messy saliva drips from your mouth while you alternate attention between nipples, licking and sucking whichever one you can reach at the moment, not getting distracted while her ass crashes down hard onto your lap.

"Listen to you, struggling to keep quiet—hard to do when you love mommy's tits so much, isn't it?" Sakura knows she's not getting a coherent answer. You just suckle at those delicious, hardened buds like you’re starved, nibbling enough to add a little extra to her pleasure that gets her to clench down a little harder. Even at this stage, you can hardly concentrate—lost in lust, and the last thing you’re worrying about is getting caught. Let someone. 

You're way past being giving a damn.

“My poor, greedy boy is so hungry for these… not that I blame you.” Her fingers tug through your hair, and the only response she gets is your groan, muffled around her nipple—but there's no punishment for it. Not when she's matching every sound, using them to fuel her hips.  

Just knowing your cock is exactly where it should be, that’s everything you need, having Sakura using your body is almost too much to handle. Even more now when she grabs the back of your head to shove your face deep into her cleavage, gasping as she bounces faster.

"Don't stop sucking them, god, that feels so fucking good. You know they get so fucking sensitive—“ And the moans can’t hide the harsh slapping sounds with how hard she’s riding. Harder and harder, impaling herself on your poor neglected cock. You just have to hold on and follow directions, looking so depraved as you suck and slurp these tits to your heart's desire.

"Shit, mommy is gonna cum, make a mess all over that fucking cock—just keep being a good boy. Keep making mommy feel so good,“ she demands with these loud cries, that it seems impossible no one can hear her. But the theater is nothing but dark and empty, with not a single thing to get in her way. 

One deep slurp and she’s taking what she wants. Her eyes flutter while those messy bounces lose rhythm, cunt squeezing tighter, using you to get off. 

All that demand fades into breathless moans as she slams down your entire length, buried deep and stays there, convulsing on your cock, thighs trembling with her arms wrapped around your neck— every single moment she continues to roll her hips until it's finally too much. 

But that doesn't mean those hips are going to stop working just yet. Because as much as she’s in desperate need of a breather after her own mess dripping down your shaft, she knows that you're hanging on by a thread—and she’s not in the habit of being selfish. 

"What do you say, my pretty little toy? About ready to blow that load inside mommy?" Your answer is muffled around the wet nipple you're sucking, only parting for a brief moment to nod. 

"Use your words now, baby boy. Tell mommy how badly you need to cum, need to empty those heavy balls. How you'd do anything to be good for me and spray all your hot, sticky seed inside."

She's got it mostly covered, but you groan out those same pleas between frantic little breaths, desperate to spill in that tight constricting heat. "You feel so good mommy, fuck—I need to cum, I-I wanna be a good boy and cum inside… can't hold it anymore—fuck. Please, mommy, please, let me—'

“You have my permission. Be my good boy and give mommy a nice, big load. Empty it all until that perfect cock has nothing left. Shoot it all, fill up mommy good.” 

Just a few more frenzied bounces, and you can't hold off. It's inevitable as she fucks the last bit of energy out of you until that point of no return is met, while she guides your hands back to those delicious tits of hers. And in a matter of moments, the explosion hits, releasing in several, aching spurts that have you pumping out. Even in the darkness, the bliss across your face is obvious as you unload that white mess deep inside her hot cunt.

"M-mommy—" you groan while those bounces refuse to relent. Not even for a moment, milking everything you have left, until your shaft can’t stop twitching with every inviting clench.

Sakura just laughs quietly at the exhaustion on your face, brushing fingers along your cheek before giving a loving kiss on the lips. "My pretty toy is so good—mommy is so proud of you. Filled me up so much.“

“Th-thank you, mommy. Needed to cum s-so bad…” 

“ I know you did, baby boy. Love when you unload that hot, thick load for me. Feels so good inside,” Sakura praises, letting your lips latch onto her swollen, sensitive nipples for one last fleeting moment. She pulls the straps of her dress back into place, lifting herself off your still throbbing, soaked shaft. And even in the faint light, the sight is beautiful—a thick, heavy mess that leaks from her slick folds and drips down her thighs, trailing its way down to the theatre floor. 

“Good boy…” Sakura says again before closing her eyes as she begins to slide a finger through the heavy load coating her slit, up and down until it's a sticky, shimmering mess. Then she brings that coated finger back up to your mouth, swirling it over the edge of your lip, dragging the pad over your tongue until you clean everything off with an eager little suck. "So hungry for mommy's taste, aren't you?"

You're not answering anytime soon, too busy with a finger between your lips. Another one enters, those same fingers that push further into your mouth, until you're forced to gag around them. 

"What do you say when mommy gives you a treat?” 

"Thank you, mommy."

Leaving her panties behind like a trophy for whoever stumbles across them, Sakura withdraws her slick finger and smears your own drool across your cheek. And you barely have enough energy to finish zipping up your pants, still spent and dazed, struggling to get yourself back together. You can barely stand. 

"Shame about the popcorn. Still hungry.” Sakura giggles, the bucket toppled over, kernels spilled along the floor. Maybe they were fine before she was bouncing up and down on you—but that doesn't matter much as you leave the empty theater row, anxious to make your escape. She finishes up the last drink from your shared cup, straw slurping dramatically before shoving her feet back in her heels, offering up her hand.

"Who needs popcorn when I had mommy's tits in my face?" 

Sakura can't even stop herself from giggling. "Keep being sweet and see where that gets you later, baby boy.” 

Now you can feel the urge to leave, because as lucky as you’ve been, you were both pretty loud, and you can bet anything, someone is going to find out what happened if you don't get out of here.

So she leads, a purpose in those quick steps as the two of you make your way through the row of seats and down the long staircase leading to the exit. Even on the other side of the theater, you can swear you hear something; maybe someone is about to start looking for the cause of your transgressions. 

But that's not a problem for you to worry about anymore. 

"Can't believe we got away with that.” 

“Have some faith in me. Told you that movie was awful," she says, almost irritated you didn’t believe her. 

"There was a movie?"

Sakura doesn't make a sound that isn't a giggle. Once you follow through the apartment door, she’s already stepping out of her heels. All you see after is that pretty dress falling from her shoulders, crumpled on the floor, bra still on but undone. That’s gone a moment later, her bare ass rippling with every step, hips swaying in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. When she’s fully naked, she glances over her shoulder, beckoning with just the flick of a finger. 

And you follow her to the couch like an obedient puppy, unable to look away at the flawless skin she's so proudly displaying. 

She looks like an absolute feast, spreading her legs wide to entice you even further. Practically drooling at the sight, all it takes is her piercing gaze for you to kneel between her thighs, her pussy presented right in your face, still slick as could be. 

"That's my good boy—didn't have to waste my time telling you what to do." 

Sakura’s hand slides to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as she guides your eager tongue exactly where she wants it. Her creamy thighs keep you pinned in place, wrapping around your head as you eat her out without any reservations. 

"Poor thing must be so hungry still," Sakura purrs, fingers tightening in your hair as your tongue works her over. "The more you eat me, the messier I get—but that’s what good toys do, use their tongue just the way mommy likes. Feels so fucking good...” 

The praise goes straight to your head. You’re eating her pussy with such fervor, desperate to lap up all this taste forever, tongue through her dripping slit while her thighs get tighter around your head. She looks gorgeous like this, moments away from another trembling orgasm with fingers digging into your skull, and there’s no other place you’d rather be. 

With how starved you are, it takes little time before she’s gushing in your mouth, tugging hard at your hair, and almost suffocating you with her thighs as she hits that sweet release. It’s beautiful. It all flows from her dripping pussy without restraint, toes curling, body squirming underneath as that satisfaction hits deep. In the comfort of the couch, there’s no need to control what sounds spill free, loud moans and breathy gasps flow out like the juices spilling between your lips, every last drop of yours to devour. 

Long past the point when Sakura has had enough, she eases off and collapses back, savoring the delicious high while you try and chase her cunt, until she pushes you away with a foot. "N-no more, shit. Not now. Mommy’s too fucking sensitive."

You’ll have to resist the chance to greed for more, but that doesn't mean you’re going to keep your mouth empty—focusing on a part of Sakura that isn’t as sensitive. Which doesn’t take long to find, kissing down her legs until you reach her petite little feet. Not a moment to think this over, sucking on her white painted toes, saliva coating them within seconds. 

"What do you think you're doing now?" Sakura asks, but not even close to a stern objection in her tone. So you're not going to stop as long as she lets you, sucking hard on each toe that slips between your lips.

"Mommy tastes so good. Can't help it."

"Well, keep sucking then," she says, lying back down to relax on the sofa, leg lifted enough with her toes flexing in your mouth. Nothing but satisfaction on her pretty face, a signal of how good it all feels. "Anything that gets you this desperate… I'll never get tired of seeing."

As if you needed more convincing, your tongue drags slowly up the sole of her foot before returning to those irresistible toes. Sakura just watches, eyes fluttering shut on occasion with a moan slipping out. One by one, you kiss each toe before it enters your mouth, giving everyone the affection it deserves. Each leaves with a wet, glistening sheen—and a satisfying, messy pop.

It doesn't end once you've taken care of both feet. Kisses get planted everywhere and anywhere, nothing to stop you as your mouth explores her soles, licking the sensitive area in between with slow drags, and every bit of her heels. The ball of each foot gets showered in love too, worshiping every inch and soaking them both up with adoration.

"Look at you—such a needy thing. Mommy's pretty feet are driving you this crazy," Sakura taunts, and each brush of her feet across your chin has you begging for more. 

More than happy to oblige, she forces her toes deep inside, where you're eager to accept them with another satisfied slurp. Sucking them straight back into your mouth and licking up all over, she’s giggling all over at your efforts, at every sloppy noise and greedy slurp that comes from you. "You'd never stop sucking my toes if I asked, would you?"

You give a loud suckle in response on her big toe, holding it between your lips. “Never. Hours. Days, however long mommy wants. Need your pretty toes in my mouth forever."

"You greedy little slut,” Sakura chuckles, and presses that silky soft sole against your face, dragging back and forth, and god you can hardly stand it. Sliding her other foot right towards your crotch to find the growing bulge, you grunt at the feeling of pressure against your covered cock.

"Maybe I really have been neglecting you lately. Always busy—don't even know how many loads you'd have blasting all over these by now,” Sakura muses, flexing her toes in your mouth, always knowing just how to rile you up. "But mommy thinks you deserve a nice reward. Wouldn’t you like that, my good boy?"

That's the question Sakura poses—while her toes begin pressing down in both locations, letting you enjoy the intense pressure from either side. You don’t even know which is more difficult to stand anymore, one foot rubbing along your shaft through those pants, or those cute toes stuffing your mouth. 

"Y-yes, mommy. Please," is all you can manage, and this might just be your most desperate, pitiful state yet.

"Good. Then get yourself out of those clothes by the time I come back."

When she vanishes down the hall, you scramble to strip down completely and wait, hands resting in your lap with all the anticipation in the world. 

Only a few moments later Sakura returns, but she's not empty-handed—nor is she wearing that dress any more. Because now she's all clad in black—long gloves, a leather top that barely contains the swell of her breasts, and a matching thong that hugs her hips and accentuates that tight ass just perfectly. But that's not what catches your attention the most—

That being the harness around her waist and two different dildo options held in her hand. Your eyes can't help but glance between them; a thick one and, well, a considerably thicker one, both in different shades of purple. 

"Which do you want?" Sakura asks, just the hint of a smirk on her face, watching every expression flash on your face as you contemplate a choice. 

Both of them are considerably intimidating—even the smallest, the first one that catches your eye is impressive in its own right. The other makes you pause; bigger and thicker than anything you've seen between Sakura's legs before. Which is why it's calling you—this craving to have it ruin you beyond what you think you can take. It's pretty and textured with bumps and ridges along every curve and slope, a little something extra for whoever takes that thing inside. Which is going to be you.

"That one. The big one, please," you answer without hesitation, watching Sakura discard the smaller dildo onto a nearby table. Her heels click across the wood floors as she steps closer, running a single finger down the shaft.

"That's my good boy. Always wanting a real challenge. You must feel a little deprived with mommy's busy schedule. But it's my job to make it up to you, isn't it? To make you feel so good, stretched nice and wide like only I can?"

You nod, watching closely as Sakura fastens the harness tighter around her waist, sliding the silicone shaft into place in one smooth motion. An easy routine for her as she makes it feel as part of her, hands on her hips so you can get a perfect view of what's about to split you in half.

And before she even gives the slightest prompt, you're bending over the edge of the armrest. Both hands planted firmly down, exposing your naked self from behind. Nothing Sakura hasn't seen hundreds of times already—but every part of it just reinforces how badly you want this.

"So that's how you want mommy to ruin you, is it? So cute how eager you are. Keep that tight ass of yours high for me."

The next step is her gloved hands spreading your cheeks, and you know all too well what comes next. But before the cap can even flick open, you feel something else—the tease of something wet pressing right against your asshole, Sakura's tongue working in slow, gentle circles. 

You can't help the gasps that follow from your parted lips, especially when the tip of her tongue slides just a bit deeper. Back and forth, prodding at your entrance, to give a little sample of what you're really getting ready for. Just the way Sakura knows you crave it, her tongue plunging in deeper and fucking your ass for a few brief moments before drawing it out again.

"Just getting you nice and warmed up," she assures, but her wet, sloppy efforts seem to be over way too soon. You know exactly what comes next: a slicked-up fingertip, pressing against the tight ring of muscle and pushing its way inside. "Relax for me."

You give an obedient nod, sucking in a deep breath as you work to ease the tightness that tries to keep her out. The very finger you know how to take, starting with one before sinking in the second one beside it a few moments later. Both massage inside, slowly opening you up in a process she knows all too well, two fingers slowly pumping in and out until there's no more resistance.

"Ready to take mommy's cock? Get all nice and stuffed full?" she asks, but even as the question leaves her lips, those two fingers are pulling out, replaced by the sound of lube being squeezed all over the length of that silicone nudging at your entrance. 

"So fucking ready. Want mommy inside me, please—need it."

"You're too cute. Hold tight, baby. Relax. Breathe, and tell me if it's too much." 

"Y-yes, mommy.” 

Her hips rock forward, slow, but not hesitant. The lubed head of the dildo slides with ease, pushing far enough to sink inside you just a fraction—already leaving you groaning. It's not exactly an unfamiliar feeling, but so much different from the toys that Sakura's fucked you with before, each ridge and bump bringing along its own sensations all along your ass as the thick shaft inches deeper inside.

But still, your body gives little resistance, the slightest progress is enough of a rush of bliss to make you crave more, trying hard to welcome that delicious intrusion.

"Look at that, it's going in so nice and easy. Taking everything like a good boy for mommy," Sakura coos, grabbing your hips to support herself, sliding the shaft even deeper, slow and steady. "Need more, baby? How does it feel?" 

"It feels good, mommy feels so fucking good inside me. I-I need it. I want it all in me. Mommy—please."

There's a slight laugh from her pretty lips, easing that purple dildo in deeper, every bump and ridge hitting just right and stretching you wider the more she sinks in. Sakura caresses your lower back, until almost every inch can comfortably slip inside to the hilt. "Good boy. You're doing so good—making mommy proud. Does my baby boy like it this deep?"

A weak nod and nothing more than a pathetic groan is all you can manage while that thick length remains motionless inside you, letting you adjust to every overwhelming sensation. 

"Gonna move now, okay?" Sakura warns, stroking a gloved hand down your spine and giving your ass a playful slap. "Make my pretty boy feel real good."

When her strap withdraws to leave just the tip inside—that's the exact moment all the sensations hit at once. When Sakura drives back in, burying in all at once and starts to really fuck you. She eases into a rhythm, her grip tightening as she plunges it in over and over, giving your prostate just what it needs. "Look at you take this, bent over for mommy like a desperate little slut. It's all in now, how does that feel, baby boy?"

And while it's difficult to answer, you know better than to ignore her, even as Sakura sinks inch after inch of her thick, purple cock deeper into your needy asshole. "Feels fucking good, mommy, p-please. Want more. Love how mommy fills me."

There's nothing that would deny Sakura from doing just that—hearing every needy plea and whine coming from your mouth. Each word encourages her as the strap drills harder, forcing you to hold onto the armrest for dear life, unable to hold back from how good that silicone cock makes you feel. "God—you love mommy fucking your ass, don't you? Took that whole thing like it was nothing. Think I can go even harder?"

Sakura doesn't give you time for an answer, ramming in every inch at once while your ass squeezes around the thickness inside you. Harder thrusts fill you deeper with each rougher slam of her hips, giving a slap across your ass with every few strokes.

"I asked you a fucking question. Does my sweet boy want me to be rough? Use your words."

"Y-yes. Mommy can be as rough as she wants. Please. It—it feels so good, please, mommy—need it harder—r-ruin me."

That's all the answer she needs, forcing the rest of her strap inside, making you feel it so deep that there's never been this kind of relief. Making you take every slam of that thick cock all the way to the hilt while she fucks into you over and over. Not an ounce of mercy left—fucking your ass like she thinks you deserve, like she loves to see. It doesn't even matter how desperate you sound, each slap on your ass so perfectly timed, making your cock leak and twitch between your legs.

"You fucking love this, don't you? My little slut is so good—taking me so well. Tell mommy how much you need this cock inside you, pretty boy. Say it."

She thrusts, so relentless in each one, and a smack on your ass comes with the next one, all on relentless repeat. And yet you still need more. "Love the way you fuck me, mommy. Feel so full, so good, p-please, need my asshole pounded, g-god, please."

There's the softest giggle from her lips, Sakura finding new found joy in seeing how well you beg—just letting all those filthy, desperate thoughts flow right out. 

That's when her fingers close in on your neglected cock, gripping just tight enough and slowly stroking down the entire length. As if you needed anything else making you more of a pathetic mess, throbbing and shaking from each slam deep into your prostate. 

"Your poor cock feels so swollen and ready to erupt. Bet a few little strokes could get you there while mommy is so deep in your ass." 

You'd be lucky if you even last that long, struggling to stay coherent as that dildo picks up an even rougher pace as Sakura keeps slamming away, fingers steadily jerking you off. Every time the silicone brushes up against a particular sensitive spot and pushes all the way inside, that's what almost tips you over. The delicate strokes on your cock don't make things any easier, or the filthy things that get whispered right in your ear.

"Can't wait until you cum. Wanna hear all those noises you'll make with mommy's strap deep in your asshole—exploding all over this fucking couch." 

Sakura is ruthless, both in the way she fucks you and the words she whispers, keeping that strap driving in so deep until you can barely speak a coherent sentence. It's getting closer and closer to that edge, her hand pumping your shaft while she slams her hips with the same intensity, each one that threatens to have you spurting everywhere.

"M-mommy—"

"Yeah? Say it, tell me you're about to cum, tell mommy all about how her strap is getting you ready to make a mess."

"I-I'm close, so fucking close, gonna—mommy's gonna make me—"

A light squeeze, one that comes at the right time, and that's all you need to lose yourself completely. Your legs shake with the pleasure hitting an instant peak, one more slam, one more stroke has you groaning like never before as your climax hits hard. Thick streaks of cum burst all over her fingers, shooting onto the sofa and cushions below. The friction doesn’t cease with Sakura’s strap pounding away, squeezing tight around your swollen head to milk out every violent spurt, until you’re trembling, reduced to a helpless mess. 

"There we go. Good boy, let it all out. Give me every drop you've got, come on, baby boy."

The thick, warm streaks continue without relent. Until Sakura has her gloved fingers coated and grip tight as you ride out the high, continuing to fuck you while you spill a load bigger than any she's taken from you before. When the spasms die down—when you're a sensitive, twitching mess on the couch, only then does she finally slow to a stop, keeping herself buried deep while you recover. 

There's a weakness you've not felt before, your cock so sensitive, your ass so empty once she pulls back—until those hips withdraw the strap inch by inch, your entire body shuddering when she does.

"Good boy. That's my good boy. Just relax for a moment, mommy's got you."

As you fall limp, you let out a tired, breathless sigh with Sakura leaning over your back and placing little kisses down your body until you finally find some stability again. Only after you collapse to the side to rest, watching as she leans back with a satisfied grin, bringing her fingers coated in your cum right up to her lips. She doesn't hesitate even once, sucking every drop off them. 

"You did such a good job, took me so well. Let's get you all cleaned up."

Your body feels wrecked, aching in ways you'd never been able to imagine. Fatigue hits like a truck as soon as everything is said and done. Only while the water runs hot can you regain the use of your legs, recovering little by little, especially while a naked Sakura opens the glass shower door to get inside.

Leather scatters all over the bathroom floor, and you can see the harness sitting at the side of the sink, the purple dildo hanging off to the side, washed and sanitized, ready for its next use.

"Doing a lot better, baby boy?" Sakura asks the moment she steps under the hot running water, helping soap up your body. "Mommy really did a number on you—thought I might have broken you a few times."

You almost zone out in the bliss of the steamy shower, enjoying the serenity and relaxing against her. "Better now that mommy is here."

"What are you so sweet for?" Sakura just smiles, pressing her body right up against yours. And for everything you just went through—that's all it takes to know it's all worth it. Just for that. That beautiful smile with Sakura's wet hair stuck to her face.

Even as sore as you are, those loving hands feel like they're magic, helping you through the ache, washing and cleaning every inch, never breaking away even for a second. For as rough as Sakura can get—and god knows you've never had it quite that rough—she takes the utmost care of you after. Never going too far unless she knows you're ready to handle it. "My baby boy takes a pounding so well though. Even with that brand new strap mommy bought for you, it was a lot, and yet you wanted more."

She smiles again, reaching up to cup your cheek, content to soak in the silence of the shower as if nothing else exists but the steam and hot water pouring down over both of you."

"Always want more of you, mommy. Always." 

"I know, baby. Always so needy for me, my pretty boy. Always does what mommy wants." 

The shower is nothing more than a quick respite. 

Once the water gets turned off and the towels hit the floor, the only thing on your mind is those silk sheets—and forgetting what day it is when you wake up. But you know that's not in the cards, at least not anytime soon. Sakura, of course, doesn’t bother covering up. She walks through the apartment naked, completely unbothered, heading to the kitchen. 

Swinging the fridge door open, she grabs a bowl of strawberries and hops up onto the counter with the same ease she handled you just minutes ago. 

You stand there for a moment, just taking her in.

"Enjoying the view?” Sakura asks as she pops a strawberry between her lips, swinging her legs back and forth over the side of the counter. And you have to laugh. Because it’s comical, the image of Sakura—how small she actually is compared to the space she occupies, this petite thing that manhandles you so easily, even though the difference in size is so obvious when she's not towering over you. Even in heels.

"Can’t help it. Can’t help staring, when mommy looks so good naked.” 

Sakura sucks on the strawberry, not the least bit subtle about it. She returns the favor and keeps staring at your body in return, slurping all the juices that drip over her tongue.

"Well, I do love when you stare. So keep staring and come here." And when you find yourself inching closer to her, those legs of hers wrap right around your waist, trapping you in the warmth of her body. "Open."

A simple request that has your lips parting with ease, as you bite on the strawberry she offers, taking it back and forth until it's gone. She holds her fingers stained with sweet berry juice out, and you don’t even think twice about closing your lips around them. One at a time you suck them clean, savoring every drop. 

“Tastes good. But mommy tastes sweeter.” 

That only has Sakura blushing. 

"You're so—oh my god, baby, look who's the sweet one."

And once every digit is all clean, you still keep sucking, taking two at a time and coating them with spit until she pulls away.

"My good boy is extra needy today, hm? Can't go a second without something between those lips. Sucking my toes, my fingers, my strap. That cute little mouth is insatiable, isn't it? The things it does to me..." 

Another strawberry fed into your waiting lips, this time letting you savor the sweet flavors for yourself. Sakura watches in delight the entire time as she finishes off the last bit, fingers slipping back between your eager mouth, which you suck on greedily the second her taste hits your tongue again.

"You want something else between these lips, don't you?" She reads your thoughts with ease, her gaze drifting down between your legs to find you hard all over again—like she isn't the exact reason you’re in that state to begin with. The culprit to all your fantasies, as you stare at her perfect tits, wanting to latch your lips on them for hours while she slowly strokes your cock, edging you close to the breaking point, so you’ll suck them even more. 

"Didn't hear an answer. Is there something else you want between these lips? Something that you need to stuff between them?"

"Want m-my cock in your mouth, please. So bad, want mommy's lips wrapped around me, want them swollen and dripping with cum."

"Then what do good boys do to get what they want?" Sakura asks as she jumps off the counter and strokes you at a languid pace, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your swollen, wet tip. 

You feel like you’re the one one about to be on your knees instead of her. It's more complicated than it should be, getting a simple word out. One word that'll have her on her knees, watching you and keeping those lips wrapped tight and wet. But god, do you ever fucking try your best—

"Say please, say you've been a good boy who deserves mommy's mouth."

"P-please, please, mommy," you manage, having so much difficulty getting a damn word out with Sakura squeezing the head of your throbbing shaft. "Please—" 

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Less begging, more moaning, my needy boy."

Sakura doesn't linger, not when she’s about to give you the best reward you’ve ever had. In a heartbeat, she's right where she’s needed—knees on the kitchen tile with those full lips hovering over your swollen cockhead, planting a single kiss against your slit that draws the deepest moan you can muster. And god—those pretty, sparkling eyes stay on yours the entire time. 

The way Sakura knows damn well how bad you want to fuck her throat, how much you need to use those gorgeous lips to cum—she senses everything when she stares up. When she waits for your reaction when her tongue makes contact, dragging from base to tip in the slowest way.

"No touching until mommy says you can," Sakura instructs, and that's not an order that's easy to comply with—not when she's this voracious, not when her mouth is hot and wet, running the flat of her tongue up and down over every sensitive inch. So all you can do is grip at the kitchen counter, giving a few futile squeezes before you can hardly stand upright at all, as you watch those pretty lips wrap tight around the tip of your cock.

"I—god, fuck, please," you groan out after one slow, satisfying suck, her mouth easing further down, only to pull back and stroke your spit-drenched shaft at a feverish pace. Every inch that sinks deeper into her mouth, the sweeter the bliss of all that suction that gets drawn out is.

"My needy baby. Needed mommy on this beautiful cock, didn't you?" Sakura teases, planting a few kisses down your shaft and diving back to take half your length down her throat, not a trace of struggle on her end.

"F-fuck, always—always fucking need you."

"Mwah," she parts her lips with a pop, and that tongue is just as dangerous, licking slow, leaving every inch nice and slick with drool. "I know. But you're gonna keep being a good boy and watch me while I suck this delicious cock. Get it all nice and sloppy like you love." 

With a rough slap against her tongue she takes another hard suck, pushing forward to swallow more of you until you're feeling her breath against your balls. One quick suck after another, head bobbing down your wet cock, and every lewd, noisy slurp she makes only heightens your arousal. The sounds of all that suction only has you fighting the urge to thrust into her mouth, to fist her hair and drive those lips down the rest of your throbbing length.

"Mmph, your cock tastes so damn good. You're doing so good staying still for mommy while I give your dick what it deserves. So big, and all mine," Sakura gasps out as she sucks away, lips down until they hit the base, getting a good, firm grip on your balls to fondle while you try not to explode down her throat too fast.

She's driving you fucking insane with that warm mouth of hers, especially when she pushes all the way down and just holds—keeps every inch locked away inside, nose buried into your crotch as her throat massages the length of your cock. All she has to do is stare with those eyes that drive you crazy, cupping your balls while she hums, and you swear the vibrations are enough to put you right over the edge—

"F-fuck, that feels so, your mouth feels so good, god, m-mommy—"

When it's almost too much to take, her lips release their hold and all you feel is empty again, until Sakura dives back down. She's sucking so hard on the tip you nearly burst, having to push that urge away again and again. 

It's that light, teasing stroke along the underside that sends you spiraling the most—her soft pink tongue flicking all those sensitive spots in rapid succession, her hand squeezing right where her lips aren't. "Could make you cum just like this. My tongue here, nothing else.” 

She doesn't waste time when your moans reach that breaking point, sliding right back down, lips working along until her tongue meets the base with these anything but gentle flicks.

You’re not a bit ashamed about the desperate moans that spill out either. 

The next few seconds are a blur, as Sakura guides your hands to either side of her head—letting you grab her hair, just where you want, all the power handed right over. And the only thing she does is rest her hands on your thighs, nails digging in. This silent permission to push her right down and use her throat.

She parts her lips without hesitation, letting you dictate her movements and control the pace of her bobbing head. You force her head halfway down, thrusting your hips to slam the last half in one satisfying movement. 

Then you're picking up that frantic pace, repeating it again and again as the neediness starts getting the best of you. Until her lips are a mess of drool, which only has you bucking your hips into her face, causing Sakura to let out a gargled moan with your cock plunging in deep with no reprieve. 

"F-fuck," you grunt, driving your hips as you fuck her pretty mouth, a loop of endless lust that fuels it all. The noises she makes around your throbbing shaft fuel you as you keep stuffing her throat full, none of it a challenge for her at all. But still, she does her part—staring with those big, beautiful eyes of hers while you take exactly what you need from her. "Feels so good, god, mommy. So damn—" 

Once more she grips at your thighs and closes those lips even tighter around you. Another rough thrust and your cock plunges deep, holding her there for a few seconds so she can gurgle out a deep, stifled moan, one that almost has your balls emptying down her throat. 

And then you do it again, each time forcing Sakura down all the way, as her eyes begin to water, but never breaking eye contact the entire time. Not when it feels too perfect to pull back, her fingers grasping so hard onto your thighs, never wanting you to stop until you're completely drained. 

Which won't be long, not when Sakura takes every inch like a fucking champ—doing nothing but keeping her mouth open to let you slide back and forth between those perfect lips. You don't dare think about slowing the insatiable pace, not for a second, even with the drool dribbling over her chin and down to her tits, dripping everywhere. Not when you can't hold out a moment longer, close to giving her throat the load she desires. 

"Gonna cum," you gasp out, all your senses overwhelmed, fucking into her mouth so fast, so desperate to tip right over that edge. “Oh god, mommy, gonna cum. So close, fuck—I'm s-so fucking close." 

Another tight squeeze on your thighs is the approval you need to finish the job, gripping her head tight and pistoning your hips with everything you have left. Her nails dig even harder into the flesh, a moan to encourage your imminent release. Then with one final grunt, you bury deep into her warm mouth and hold her right there, unable to withstand a moment longer—

Sakura's eyes widen, lips down to the very last inch of your throbbing shaft, right against your balls when your cock unloads. 

Every violent spurt empties inside, a thick torrent straight into her stomach, no easing up on the grip in her hair while it all flows into her throat. You've got her gaze locked, her throat contracting, guzzling down each thick spurt of cum that spills out.

Nothing feels as good as Sakura's throat milking you dry, the perfect place to dump your load. You can't remember how to even breathe, just keeping your spent cock nestled within her warm little mouth for as long as you can stand it, and even a little longer after that. 

“Jesus," you gasp, releasing that tight grip. But her lips don't stop, not for a second, holding your hips as she keeps right on sucking—harder and faster. The overstimulation never stops, not until she wants it to, drawing out moan after helpless moan as you can only try to hang on. Staying right where she is and not letting go an inch, Sakura won't dare let a single drop spill. Her mouth only moves off once she's sure nothing is left in your balls, taking her sweet time kissing the tip of your cock.

"Mommy made her toy cum really hard, didn't she? Shot your heavy load in my mouth like a good boy."

“Y-yeah—“ 

"But is that all I get?" Sakura asks and rises to her feet, seizing your cock and pumping a few times, though your sensitive state shows and you nearly recoil. "Not fair mommy swallowed all of your delicious cum and didn't have a chance to get off, is it?" 

Exhaustion on your face, you can’t even answer, slowly being backed against the door of the refrigerator with your cock still in her grasp. She’s not giving a second to recover with this predatory gleam in her eyes as her grip on you tightens.

"Mommy isn't done with you just yet. Not when this cock is still so hard and needs somewhere warm to go, doesn't it?"

You simply nod—how can you possibly do anything but nod? You're nowhere near ready to go again, but the way she looks at you slaps you full force in agreement. 

"You're gonna hold me up and fuck me. While I wrap my legs around and you bounce me on this cock like a good boy. Got it? Don’t drop me."

Whatever reluctance you think you might have as you hoist her up, isn't going to stand a chance, not when Sakura is quick to take her rightful place—legs coiled and locked around your waist. Not even a second to breathe, before she drops down and impales herself on you, every inch disappearing into that perfect heat you've barely had a chance to miss. 

This time, when the tightness hits and your cock is swallowed up by her delicious warmth, it takes everything you have not to drop her. 

You're spent—completely fucked out, and the worst part is she knows it. Knows how you can hardly take being buried inside her again. All of your sensitive cock is in the heat of her cunt, so slick and squeezing tighter than ever. And still—you move for her. Every thrust is a fight against your own overstimulation, but you can’t keep your hips from moving.

You couldn’t stop if you tried. 

"God, f-fuck—" Back pinned up against the fridge with the entirety of Sakura's petite frame in your arms, your dick throbs and twitches in ways you didn't know possible. The softness of her breasts press up against your chest as they bounce, and it's up to you to do the rest. To give everything that's demanded. 

Your overworked muscles and weakened legs barely manage, but the cries coming from Sakura are well worth it as you lift her up and slam her back down, giving all you have to fuck her. She's in no way making things easy for you, clenching so hard around your oversensitive cock, nails digging into your back and holding on just to ride out the pleasure you're giving her. 

"You can do better than that. I know you’re a good fucking toy. Fuck me, fuck me harder," she demands—and it only serves to encourage you to push past the exhaustion. When your movements slow even for a second, you don't even need to meet the glare that reminds you to think otherwise. And without saying a word, she's demanding you thrust up into her with all you've got left, regardless how much the ache in your cock wants to do the opposite. 

"Harder. Come on," Sakura orders—the one and only warning you'll get. "Fuck me harder like a good little fucktoy does." 

So you have no choice but to surrender to her words, to pump your sore shaft into that slippery heat with such rapid fire thrusts that no matter how much you need a break, you can't. Not now—not as long as you have the resolve to stay buried in her wet cunt.

Her pussy takes every inch and clenches impossibly tight, greedy to swallow you whole inside, even when your body is hanging on by a thread. Almost on auto-pilot, you keep driving into her, back pressed hard against the fridge as you desperately bounce her on your length. She squeezes like never before, knowing what it'll do to your poor, exhausted cock, with her legs clamping around your torso until you can't pull free if you try. 

"So good. Making mommy's pussy feel so fucking good," Sakura moans against your neck, nipping her teeth across the sweaty skin. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop—“ 

You don't, because you can’t—fucking her so rough and hard, almost forgetting the ache as your body keeps doing its part without any say in the matter. Sakura clings onto your body, this small frame so easy to hold tight with your fingers digging into her ass, refusing to relent until she lets you. And she clenches so desperately when that sweet release gets near, until her entire body turns into a shuddering wreck. 

All it takes is her biting into your shoulder—hard, her cunt gripping down like a vice around your aching cock, and there's only the briefest warning until you feel the flood of her climax soak every inch as you keep ramming on through.

The moment Sakura's tightening walls suffocate around you, you're helpless, her legs so constricting you can't do anything but keep every inch deep inside. You're gripping her ass so tight as those legs stay wrapped tight around your waist, and you thrust into her hard—giving her everything her soaked pussy is begging for. Every moan echoes, and she’s dripping all over the kitchen tile—soaking you both, with nowhere to go except the floor beneath. 

"Good boy, such a good boy for mommy," Sakura cries out, but doesn't seem to notice how her legs are beginning to loosen their hold. "Let it out, baby. F-fucking let it all out."

Everything else is a blur when you lose control, right as the words sink in, unable to resist her clench for even another second longer. All it takes is a few pumps—

You cum. Right as she wants and you can't help it, burying inside to shoot the most sharp climax of the day. With one final, animalistic grunt, every twitch of your cock spurts sticky, white seed straight up into her walls. Deep inside that intoxicating cunt that grips you tighter by the moment, keeping your throbbing cock lodged inside while your balls empty.

Until you have nothing else. Until it's pouring right out of her wet cunt, all your strength concentrated in your hips, with your legs on the verge of buckling underneath the sheer force it takes to keep Sakura held up. 

That's how this ends. This combination of depraved moans and greedy kisses, violent throbs that don’t cease as you pump everything into Sakura—until you meet your demise, falling onto the kitchen floor in a heap with her lying on top of you. 

Her tiny body feels ten times heavier, or maybe it's the cold kitchen tiles, the exhaustion—you're not really sure. 

She stays above, the mess between her legs threatening to leak right back out as she devours your lips in all these hungry kisses, tangling her fingers in your hair like she’s praising you for a job well done.

"I said don't drop me."

"Didn't. My legs gave out," you clarify between kisses as she moves to the side of your neck, and can't help but break out into giggles. 

"Poor baby, mommy used you so much. Couldn't handle filling my tight pussy again?" 

"Not my fault mommy wore me out. So insatiable and demanding.” 

Sakura laughs, kissing down your face as the aftermath settles in, enjoying the mess between her legs.

“You wouldn't have it any other way. Don't pretend like you didn't enjoy cumming inside me twice."

She's right. Obviously. But you’re far too spent to even think about a comeback. You can't give her the satisfaction she seeks, so you'll just kiss her quietly instead. Before long, Sakura's the one failing to hide that smug little smirk that says she's not even close to being done—not when she grabs your wrists and holds them above your head, this display of dominance reminding you how you're always at her mercy.

"You like when mommy uses you whenever, however I need to—you'll do anything I say, no matter what it is. Isn't that right?"

There is absolutely no use fighting it. All you can do is give out a nod.

"Use your words. Good boys use their words."

"I love when mommy uses me,” you say, louder than before. “What mommy needs, she gets. No matter what. No matter when.” 

“Mhm. There's my good little fucktoy." 

Even in this worn out state, Sakura leans in, lips finding your neck as she sucks hard, determined to leave her mark—teeth sinking in without the slightest hesitation. The pain is so very welcome, proof that she really does own you. Her teeth leave that sweet spot, trailing fleeting kisses down your chest, until she teases a nipple with the lightest graze of her tongue. 

The sensitivity is nowhere gone yet, so you can't help but whine out, even more when her fingers tease the other. Slow twists and rolls, a pinch here and there, it all does the job, adding the most minimal stimulation that feels so overwhelming. "If mommy wanted to ride you again right now, you'd let me, wouldn't you? No matter how sensitive and worn out that cock is?" 

A question of pure torment. A question she already knows the answer to. 

"Always. Wouldn't say no. Mommy can have this cock whenever and however she wants it."

"Good answer. Don't ever forget that. Mine to use and fill me as many times as I need.” 

Sakura is slow when she rolls off you, lifting up just so you can see exactly what you've left between her thighs—a creamy mess that floods out, the results of what she can empty out of you.

"Those poor balls still had all this left to give me, made such a huge, dripping mess, hm?” It just leaks everywhere, with her fingers playing with the mess inside, trying to drag even more out. "Think you've earned a break, baby boy. Let's get you something to eat that isn't my pussy."

With that, Sakura helps you to your feet with the last shreds of energy she has left. The walk to the bathroom is slow, for both of you.

Hot water fills the bath, a healthy dose of bubble bath pouring in while the tub fills. it's exactly what your body needs, along with Sakura sitting behind you. When you relax against her, she tilts your head back, wrapping an arm tight around you, trailing light kisses along your shoulder and neck as your eyes close to relish the affection. 

"You okay, baby boy?" Sakura asks with that sweetness in her voice that always catches you by surprise. You couldn't be better. No matter the exhaustion that makes it hard to move, her hands gently caressing all over is the best reward. 

"More than ever." Your eyes feel heavier than ever, the kind of exhaustion where you could fall asleep in an instant. Though it's tempting, you don't want to miss a moment of her attention.

"Not yet. Stay awake for me, okay? So I can clean you up and make sure you're taken care of. My good boy deserves being spoiled."

That's enough motivation to do exactly that. 

Sunday morning, and it's a rare day off for Sakura—something that comes along only once or twice a month. Weekends are just as busy for any real relaxation, which means this lazy day will be appreciated more than ever. 

And because Sakura is free today, that also means you're by her side like a shadow. 

This time, it’s the couch, legs half-tucked under her with the glow of a screen shining on her face. All Sakura has on is these tiny black gym shorts and a snug white top, thin enough you can practically make out the outline of her breasts. With every shift, the fabric rides up, exposing her flat stomach, that enticing bit of skin that you can't help wanting to drag your tongue against.

You're finding it hard to resist doing just that.

And then there are her tits—they're perfect and delicious, and even hidden behind fabric, you desperately want them in your mouth. Her body is a goddamn work of art, legs all creamy and silky smooth, that ridiculously tiny waist and the curve of her ass peeking out the bottom of her shorts. It's enough to drive you to absolute insanity.

Perfection. You're right here sitting next to her, not a word said with this ache in your pants getting worse by the second.

Her gaming sessions always go like this. Completely and totally distracted, lounging on the couch in whatever is most comfortable. When the mood hits, as it often does, it's not like you can really help yourself. The way she focuses so hard with her eyes glued to the screen, shifting to another position that exposes more skin while you massage her feet. 

It's those shorts that show way too much thigh. That shirt that teases the curve of her breasts. And when those plump lips of hers wrap around a straw to take a drink—all you can imagine is them wrapped around a certain part of you. It’s so pathetic to be this weak, but you can't ignore the heat growing inside, not when her tight little body is on display and every bit of you is silently begging to give it the attention it deserves.

So you dive in—deliberate in every motion, but careful not to distract. Starting just above the waistband of her shorts, you can’t starve off the ache to press hot, lingering kisses right along that creamy skin. 

Sakura catches on pretty fast.

"Baby—" Turning her attention, she glances down, furrowing a brow at the sight. “What do you think you’re trying to do?"

"N-nothing." 

It’s a response that comes out as more than a little pitiful, as if you couldn’t fathom the idea of being caught. 

"Clearly something, if you're distracting me from Splatoon like this," Sakura says, caressing the side of your face for a fleeting moment. 

"Just—just thought mommy deserved a little attention."

"Aren't you the sweetest? But mommy is busy right now. On a three game winning streak that I don't plan to give up. So you'll have to wait."

Just like that, she goes back to her game without a further glance in your direction. You're not a stranger to being lower on her priority list, rejected for something else that has her attention. It’s not like you expect her to drop her progress or halt her fun—but when her shorts keep riding up, exposing more cheek—you can’t stand it. Not when it makes your pants uncomfortably tight. 

Nor can you help but grind against her, slipping a finger into the opening of her shorts and grazing the lace of her panties. Sakura gives zero reaction, holding focus while your digits trace along the elastic. 

"Now, now, baby boy—you better behave. Mommy told you she was busy." 

Being scolded like this before is all too common, but in reality that’s little deterrent, if any. An easily dismissed warning that only encourages you to indulge, kissing at her inner thighs, until you’re close enough to breathe in her scent. You’re wearing the desperation on your face like a flashing sign, but you don’t care. You need relief. Badly. 

"Someone is awfully needy." That’s when this hint of annoyance creeps up in her tone. Which goes ignored. Because when aren't you? Shameless and desperate is your specialty, and being turned down and told to wait isn't going to cut it. When the throb is this urgent, you can't hold back, not when Sakura looks like an absolute feast that you just want to devour. 

It's getting increasingly difficult. You don't even have to do much that will distract her—just pull those skimpy shorts down, slide her panties to the side and bury yourself in her heat. That's the best solution to both of your problems, as simple as that. You’ve come this far, and there’s no turning back. More kisses up her thigh, as each touch gets more daring. It all goes ignored, even while you drag a finger along the small piece of pink cloth separating you from heaven. 

"Baby, I swear if you make me lose right fucking now—" Sakura snaps, and you not sure you're ready to pay for whatever wrath lies in her words. But even that isn’t stopping you from doubling down. 

"Mommy, please—" 

A squeeze on her thigh combines with another kiss as a final push. "Need you. Need you so fucking bad. Wanna taste you, mommy. Wanna slip inside you and make you feel good. Please, I'll be quiet."

A moment passes before she sighs. 

"You seriously think you'll be able to put your cock in me without making a single sound?" Despite the increased annoyance in her voice, the eye roll—you don't relent. 

"I can. Won't make a sound, not even when I cum. You won't even know I'm here. Promise."

There's no way Sakura will believe such a thing, you can see that plain as day. You can see it in the tilt of her head, a glance that shows you she's not convinced in the slightest. It's not surprising either, you'd probably call bullshit yourself.

"No, that's not happening. If you're that fucking hard, you're gonna take care of that yourself. 

"Mommy—" 

"What did I just say? No shoving your dick in me until I lose. And I'm not fucking losing because you're too goddamn horny to wait."

"Mommy, please, I—"

"Do not make me repeat myself. Ugh, I swear," she scoffs, and you're not sure you've heard her this annoyed—nor do you doubt that you're pushing too hard. It’s a glare that comes and goes within moments as she turns her gaze back to the screen, one that almost makes you hesitate about speaking up again. "If you're that fucking desperate, then just fuck my feet or something. But you better stay quiet, and do NOT distract me."

You’ll take that. Hell, you’ll take anything at this point, and the generous use of her gorgeous feet to get yourself off unattended is worthy of a thousand praise-filled thank you's. With her cute, black painted toes curled around your hard dick while you slide between them is a better reward than you deserve. 

Not another word as you take Sakura's perfect, pale, and pretty feet, and admire for a moment—how dainty they are and how many times they've gotten you off like this. Usually before bed, when you're just as desperate to get off as you are now. All you have to do is unzip your pants, free your cock—

And slide right in between those delicate arches. One step toward relief, it's almost impossible not to moan at the softness of her feet, enough pressure to make your head spin. The hardest part is keeping your promise, with your cock sandwiched in these soft, silky smooth arches. 

Thankfully, this isn't going to take long at all. 

The friction is everything you need, and each thrust elicits a moan that you try your damnedest to suppress. You have some actual self-control, you think—maybe you don’t, you’re about to find out. For now, it's going to be a challenge as you squeeze her pretty painted toes around your shaft to tease yourself, before sliding your cock in a delicious little rhythm while you fuck her feet. They're silky soft, and god you don't know how much longer you can be silent.

"These fucking idiot teammates, I swear—" Sakura mutters, letting off some steam now that the game can have her full attention. 

You'll leave her alone, and concentrate on pumping your cock between her heavenly soles. Even a bit slower, given all you need is to stay nestled between and let the friction bring relief, spitting in the space between to give some extra slickness to this whole thing. 

The desperation is real, and your moans aren't too muffled—so you pray that she’ll keep herself occupied and ignore what slips out. Every drag along the softness of Sakura's feet, every graze her toes give you is bliss. Every time you pause to slap your cock against her silky arches before sliding back in, it gets harder to hold back. Moans getting as deep as your breathing the more you continue to use her feet to jerk yourself off like this. 

"They better fucking get it together. S-rank my ass, they're dead weight. Dead fucking weight. How the fuck did these assholes rank up anyway,” Sakura continues mumbling, cursing her squad and ignoring every groan that you let slip in the process, biting back all of your gasps. 

Using her feet to stroke your shaft is a damn good compromise. Your teeth clench while your cock pushes into her soft soles isn't enough to drown out how good Sakura's feet feel. This is perfect as it can get—the intense squeeze against your aching shaft cock that keeps sliding in and out, the precum coating her toes. 

You can barely think straight. Getting so fucking close to blowing right there, each stroke threatening to set you off with the way her toes wrap around each side of your shaft. 

"Oh, for fuck's sake—goddamn spawn campers. Oh no, you don’t, you little bitch!" Sakura slams down her console on the cushions, somehow ignoring the frantic way you’re pumping away between her toes. Her anger almost gives you the fuel to fuck her feet faster—and they clamp down harder as a result. 

Thrusting between them gets even better with each passing second, this tighter squeeze as the friction gets you closer and closer, desperately wanting to pump yourself faster, fuck her gorgeous feet and just cum all over them. And that's exactly what's about to happen. 

"M-mommy, so close," you groan out, forgetting your promise to not make a sound and throw your head back. It's too fucking good, the feeling of them on either side of your dick, this intoxicating grip you don't want to part from anytime soon.

"God, who the hell taught them to play? Fuck this map. Fuck this team," Sakura spits out, slamming a fist down next to her on the couch. You however, are seconds away from blasting a mess all over.

"Mommy, mommy—" You're spilling right then, cursing under your breath as you try to fuck your cock faster between her soles while cum spurts everywhere. Your cock twitches wildly, spurting along the insides of her feet, on her soles, splattering all over her toes and blasting all the way even to her ankles—while Sakura pays absolutely zero attention to your release. It's a filthy mess, a stream of thick white coating the pale skin, running between her toes and even staining the fabric of the sofa cushions beneath.

While Sakura is seething, you're panting heavily, gripping onto her ankles and milking yourself dry with more strokes, eventually just moving her feet so that the tips of her toes are still stroking the sensitive head, your hot, sticky mess being dragged along. You give in and moan the more you thrust, sliding into her silky arches for one last bit of bliss, savoring the sight of your release coating her feet. 

"Okay, fuck this, we are NOT playing this garbage map again. This game is absolute shit, god, they all suck." 

And Sakura nearly tosses her console across the room before even noticing the mess on her feet. She stares, furrowing her brow to her once pristine soles, now coated in white streaks, dripping between her toes, and clinging to wherever else it landed. 

You look so spent, unapologetic and so satisfied—huffing to catch your breath while your cock stays nestled between.

"Well, would you look at that. Just couldn't contain yourself for one fucking game, could you? Had to use my pretty feet to get yourself off?"

All you can do is nod your head. Words aren't coming easy at the moment, especially not while you're lost in how gorgeous her feet look all covered in your creamy load.

"What am I going to do with you? Especially with how loud you were. Don't think because I was too busy dealing with AFK shitbrains that you couldn't follow a simple rule," Sakura continues and flexes her cute, cum-stained toes—letting your sticky mess drip further and coat the pale flesh. "I'm sure you didn't forget your promise, but you couldn't even do that. Fucking yourself like a pathetic slut between my feet. Did you get it all out?"

There's not an ounce of remorse in the nod that comes afterward. With all this pent-up stress and anger Sakura is letting off, you're scared to even utter another word. 

"I didn't hear an answer. Did you—get it all out?"

This time, you don’t dare hesitate. "Y-yes, mommy, I did."

"Good. Then you can clean it all off. Now." Sakura folds her arms across her chest, her full attention on you now. Her foot rises in the air, showing off the slick streaks that still linger. Her toes spread wide and you know all too well what to do—a command you don't dare protest.

A glance to look at your handiwork between her dripping toes. That's when your lips capture a single one to suck clean—starting at the big toe, the one that's your favorite to suck on.

"That's right. Clean up your mess, and then get the others."

The salty taste of you all over hardly even registers when you get another chance to suck on Sakura's perfect, pretty little toes. Slow sucks and licks between, all the taste of skin and stickiness of your orgasm. Her gaze never falters, ensuring you take your time, not missing a spot while cleaning up until you suck the next toe. 

Long drags along her arches, gathering every drop while you kiss and lick on that tender skin. It's heaven between her toes, taking time to let the tip of your tongue trace patterns along the silky smooth soles, while all the rage built up in Sakura seems to slowly fade. 

"My pathetic boy likes licking the mess you made between mommy's toes. Loves cleaning up after himself like a depraved slut, sucking them clean."

You can’t even disagree, a loud slurp while you take two painted toes in at once, sucking until the majority of her toes captured between your wet, slobbering mouth glisten with all your spit. And you don’t stop for a second—you alternate between sucking, running your tongue down her soles, up her arches to capture every drop while Sakura enjoys every second of what you're doing.

No trace left behind of the way you used her feet for your own pleasure, and even when it’s all cleaned up, you don’t dare stop until she allows it. Sucking every toe, licking every creamy inch of her feet like you’ll never get a chance to ever again. Once her big toe pops out of your mouth, both soles raise up, all shiny with your saliva and press directly into your face.

"Naughty thing. All you had to do was sit quietly. Wait for me to finish my game, and you could've cum inside me all you wanted. Maybe even bend me over the counter and eat my ass too,” Sakura says, soles deeper into your face so all you can breathe in is their scent. 

"But you didn't listen—“ 

She presses down more with each second that passes, adding more weight to really give you the satisfaction you've been seeking. "Had to be a greedy whore. If I really wanted to, I'd jerk you off as fast as I can, make you blow more loads again, and again. Not allow any break until you're shooting nothing. But even that, you'd enjoy too much…” 

Again, she’s not wrong. 

Not even if it left you unbearably sore and sensitive. Not even if the orgasms left you raw and begging to stop, would you even want Sakura to. Because maybe you're just a bit too obsessed with her. 

And maybe that's been her whole plan since the beginning.

"Look at this cute face."

Sakura reaches over and caresses your cheek, giving a small pat before her fingernails trail down your neck. 

Not that you can respond—not with one of her stockings stuffed into your mouth. As she’s told you, you don’t deserve the privilege of her panties. You can’t do much now, with one wrist bound to the bed frame with a necktie, the other secured the same way. And written across your bare chest, is a single word, ‘MINE’, in dark red lipstick. 

Her panties are gone, bra removed, other stocking tossed aside with the rest of her clothes, as naked as she can be. She’s just taking you in, memorizing the desperation etched on your face.

"So pretty and helpless for me," she says with this dulcet tone that makes your breath hitch. "Where is that cocky attitude you showed me earlier?"

No answer even if you had one, her sheer stocking silencing even the weakest syllable. Sakura lets the image linger with a smirk on her face as she yanks the nylon free from your lips. 

"Answer me. Where did all that courage go, baby boy?"

"D-dunno," is what you settle on, looking away from her gaze that's too intimidating to stare straight at. But that earns you nothing but a harsh slap to your face. The sting hits hard—and there's not a thing you can do but take the next that lands on the opposite side.

"Look at mommy when I’m speaking to you."

Another slap comes just as fast, and this time, the arousal is surging. Because god, you can't get enough of those manicured hands dealing out this delicious punishment, the pain only adding to your own desires. 

"What’s the matter? All of a sudden you've gone shy?" There's no kindness in the slap that strikes with the back of her hand, sending another ache across your face. “What can I even do to punish you when you enjoy it this fucking much?"

No amount of scolding changes a thing. There’s no shame or anger—just satisfaction.

"Oh, I know,” Sakura muses, tilting her head with careful consideration. “Maybe I should just fuck myself on the strap that I use to pummel your ass. Use it to stretch my tight cunt instead and make you watch."

You know how this goes—what she's trying to do. While you'd normally object to the threat of being ignored or turned away, this trap isn’t going to spring so easily. Not this time. 

"If that's what mommy wants…” 

Sakura scoffs, in disbelief that you won't take the bait. She knows how easy you are to mold, and the idea that you could be anything else is unfathomable. 

"Don't try to be bold. Mommy already knows what you are," she hisses, showing some hesitation to slap you again—especially with how well you took the last one. "Nothing but a pathetic, obedient little slut. So how about this—"

Again, you respond with little care, keeping up the cavalier attitude. 

“Two toys at the same time, and neither of them will be you. You'll be lucky to be a spectator. Mommy could blindfold you for being so mouthy." 

“Whatever makes mommy happy, that's all I care about. You deserve it."

Once again, Sakura looks disappointed by the lack of weight to her threats. "What's gotten into you? No begging? No pouting? Is my baby sick or something?"

You smile. Maybe you've learned a trick or two over time. When all she gets is a simple shake of your head, the frustration on her face grows. The little change in her demeanor when she's used to this going exactly how she plans—that’s something you'll never forget. 

"If that's how you want things to be..." Her palm caresses the side of your face, nails scratching down from your cheek and past your jawline, while her lips slowly inch toward your ear. She drags her tongue over the outer shell before nibbling, coaxing a moan out of your throat.

Leaving the bed for a moment, Sakura approaches her nightstand and finds exactly what she’s looking for: a thin, black leather collar—one that matches a leash that's kept hidden away for special occasions. She holds it in her fingers for a few moments, just admiring it, stroking the material before grabbing one more thing from her dresser and heading back.

"Act like a brat and I'll treat you like one," Sakura says, wrapping the collar around your neck and fastening it in place. It's not tight enough to hinder breathing, but it certainly isn't as loose as you remember. "Since you're all tied up, I don't need the leash. But my dumb little pet decided to be all tough today, so we'll see how long you can hold out. When your cock is in my ass, and you can't even touch me."

Her fingertips trace the collar's strap along your throat, the delicate pressure making it a little harder to breathe. And this time when Sakura smiles—it’s the sort that lets you know the trouble you've signed yourself up for.

"Whatever makes mommy happy is all you care about? Is that right, baby?" 

Before you can answer, she turns around, grabbing a small bottle that you're more than familiar with. With her back now facing you, the smooth curve of her ass is on perfect display as she pops open the lid to pour some lube into her fingers. "My ass could be on your face, your tongue buried in my asshole with you spreading my cheeks wide open. But now you're not going to be anything but a toy for mommy."

All restrained, you’re forced to watch Sakura sliding a finger right into that tight asshole of hers. Just one, then adding another—stretching out her ass nice and slow as they disappear deep inside.

"When your cock is in my ass, straining to not cum while I squeeze around you, and you’re begging to untie you so that you can pound me, so that you can fuck me into the mattress—" 

With the way you're tugging on your binds, there's little doubt that it's all starting to work, your attempts to gain control over this situation are falling short. It only fuels her resolve to have her fingering her tight hole, letting every filthy sound escape, making sure she gets slick enough to fuck herself on your cock. "Now you've gone quiet. No more attitude? Or are you thinking about my tight little ass? That's all you want now, isn't it?"

There's little else you can do but obsess about it, about how good it's going to feel once you're buried deep, balls deep, the warmth and tightness that you crave, and the insane grip that would milk every drop out of you in a matter of seconds.

"My fingers aren't the same as your cock. We both know that," Sakura taunts. She turns a bit so she can pour lube over your shaft, staring into your eyes, to watch your expression linger on the bliss of her fingers stroking you.

"M-m-mommy—" 

"Oh, so you've found your words now? Too late for that, if you think you're getting out of being a toy. Maybe you'll learn to behave a bit better. Good boys get to ruin my pretty little asshole, but brats have to sit back and watch."

She's trying to crack you, pumping your cock with her body angled so that you can only imagine pushing inside—how goddamn tight her ass will be. The taunting goes both ways here—and Sakura's lust outweighs her urge to break you.

"Not that you can do otherwise, but you're gonna be a good boy while I ride you and let you cum in my ass. Don't make me regret that." 

Sakura leans back, hovering her ass right above your slick, painfully erect cock, showing some restraint just before. The hesitation cuts through you, unsure how much longer you can stand not being inside her, and then—her hips push down and bury every last inch deep inside.

You groan. Not just at the tightness that consumes every inch of your cock, her asshole clenching as her hands grip your thighs—but also that you don't have to hold back anymore. Now it's all pleasure, the way her ass rests on your hips, your balls flush against her soft cheeks.

Sakura barely takes any time adjusting. A shift of her legs, her bare feet flat on either side of your thighs, giving herself all the leverage she needs. Up, and then down, slow as can be. The view is deadly, her plump cheeks rising as she does, and then returning in a quick bounce, squeezing even tighter around you. And that's just the first time.

"So fucking hard, fits so well inside my ass, this is where your cock belongs—buried deep in mommy's asshole," Sakura sighs, hips building speed and taking you all the way in. The friction is perfect, the clench even better from this position as her nails dig deeper into your flesh, the impact of her bouncing ass getting louder and louder.

"So big, such a thick cock stretching out my asshole. Mommy's going to fuck this hard cock until you can't help but explode."

That's a threat you can get behind. You stare with rapt attention, watching her asshole take every thick inch as her pale cheeks bounce and smack against your thighs, swallowing all of you back inside every time her hips return down.

And then, without warning, the sensations stop. Sakura lifts up, enough to slide every last inch out of her ass, your cock slick with lube and twitching for relief. You can’t do anything but whine when she grinds her asscheeks along your length, the cold air a contrast to the warmth of her tight puckered hole. 

"You really thought mommy would let you have my asshole? Just like that?" Sakura laughs, savoring every pathetic noise that you let out. Her hips move so slowly, the soft flesh of her cheeks grazing along your dick. It's torture. Absolute torture. And it's only going to get worse. The way she traps your shaft, with the way her fingertips brush against it to keep you in the warmth of her ass.

"You've gone quiet again, haven't you? Can't even remember how to beg?"

God knows you could never forget. This ache, the tormenting sensation of her gorgeous ass rubbing against you, grinding on your swollen shaft, denying any sense of relief that you yearn for. You don't want to give the satisfaction, to let the real need shine through—but she'll draw it out eventually, coax out every desperate plea in your mind.

Even as you form tight fists that clench hard enough to hurt, that makes her smile. Even as the desire becomes so consuming and you throb against her supple ass cheeks.

"Mommy. Mommy, please—god, I need you. Need to be in your perfect tight ass. Need you so bad, mommy."

All the shame comes in how quickly you cave in, an easy surrender in the blink of an eye just like every single time before. Even with the restraints on your wrists, the collar around your neck, there isn't any fight left. She's gotten everything she wants.

"Yeah, that's what mommy likes to hear. Now remind me—what are you?" 

"Your obedient little slut. Your dumb little toy. Mommy's plaything—that gets used whenever mommy wants. Doesn't matter if I get left here tied up, my pleasure is always secondary to yours." 

"And don't you forget it. You're just a tool to get me off. A pretty toy to shove in my cunt until I cream all over you. But mommy takes care of her toys, of everything in her possession."

With that, Sakura stands up again and shifts her body around, tossing a leg over your hips to straddle your waist and face you. The loss of seeing her ass doesn't compare to the sight of her lovely face, her silky hair that falls over her shoulders, and that perfect little grin. 

Another cold sensation over your throbbing cock, more lube that'll have you buried back inside her ass in no time. Her hand finds it to guide right where she wants. It's almost agonizing, waiting for her to lower down, and the way the rim of her tight puckered asshole spreads around your swollen tip. Yet she doesn't move, just staying in place with every last inch held inside.

Sakura glances down, at your pathetic, helpless state—and leans over so her tits press flush against your chest. Without a word, she practically rips the collar off your neck, but doesn't even dare loosen the ties wrapped around your wrists. Instead, she replaces the leather with her grasp, her hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing enough for you to gasp.

"Mommy likes you better like this. So submissive and helpless, ready to listen to every order, every desire—not forgetting who owns you."

This close, her hot breath tickles the side of your face, so she can see all the desperation as her ass grips down tight around the head of your cock after lifting up the slightest. Just teasing, squeezing the tip and not letting an inch sink further in.

"That's where your thick cock belongs. Inside my tight little asshole, swallowing you deep. My little pet that can't keep quiet, had to be reminded who's in charge."

It's hard to get every word out with Sakura squeezing harder around your throat, but you don't ever need the pressure to let up for any reason. Her hips slam down hard, sinking down on every inch of your cock in her ass—a tightness that you can't even comprehend. A vice grip that almost has you losing the strength to keep holding yourself together. The heat, the squeeze, you swear it feels tighter than the first time. 

"This is what good boys get, isn't it? Getting your cock ridden until you get to fill mommy’s tight ass with cum,” Sakura says, not breaking eye contact for one moment with her delicate hand locked so tight around your neck. You're the definition of overwhelmed, airflow restricted while her ass bounces on top in rapid, harsh movements that only get harder to handle with each rock of her hips. 

You're too gone to answer with anything but a nod, and you can't look anywhere else. Not with her hand clutching around your throat like the collar tossed aside—not when the look in her eyes has you utterly lost in lust. 

At this point, you hardly care about the fabric around your wrists keeping you from touching her. This is more than enough, the rhythm and fervor she fucks herself down on top, not looking away for a second as she chokes you and rams her ass down onto your cock. The tightness, the way her tits bounce so perfectly—god, you're so close already. You're trying so hard to shake it off as long as possible, but there's no use to fight the inevitable. 

"M-mommy, I'm, I'm gonna—"A quick nod and a smile before you can finish the sentence, followed by a tight clench that demands you do exactly that. 

"It's ok, baby—fill my ass up. Fill me right up." 

Not a word said as the force of her hips sends her ass down for those final bounces, until you're shooting your hot cum inside of Sakura, flooding her tight hole. Every spurt throbs violently as she watches you give in, never ceasing that grip on your throat as you erupt. Just throbbing as she milks you dry, every spurt squeezed deep inside her warm, tight asshole until you've given everything you possibly can.

"Good boy, such a good boy. Mommy's sweet boy came so much…” When her hand leaves your throat, you’re too exhausted to even complain, no strength for anything as she’s caressing your face. Kisses come next, all along your cheek, before her soft lips meet yours for an even deeper kiss. 

You want to touch her, to pull her in close, to do something—anything as Sakura plants kiss after kiss. But all she does is lift off your sensitive cock, the emptiness immediate, that thick load dripping down out of her ass and oozing everywhere. And she makes sure to finish the job, fingers grabbing at your spent cock to pump out whatever remains. 

“My good boy made quite a big mess, didn’t he? Such a huge load inside mommy’s ass…"

Even with nothing left in your balls to drain, Sakura keeps pumping, fist a blur around your slick length that rips all these desperate noises from your throat. "Now, now. Mommy knows you're sensitive, but that doesn't mean we should stop. Your cock is still hard, so that means you need to be milked again, doesn't it?"

Nothing comes out from your mouth but another pitiful whimper, because the sensations never stop as Sakura pumps her hand even faster. It's nothing but painful, torturous overstimulation that makes your whole body jerk. And every time you pull on the restraints, that only makes the smirk grow. 

"Fuck, I can’t, please, mommy, p-please—“ 

She refuses to let up at that merciless pace, each stroke getting faster, grip a little tighter, the ache in your balls harder to deal with more by the second. “Mommy doesn’t care if you can’t. You’ll go again if I say you will, because your greedy fucking cock exploded in my ass. Which means I didn't even get to watch all that cum shoot out. Not very fair now, is it?"

The torturous pace of her stroking doesn't let up. Fast, painfully fast strokes and squeezes all the way up your shaft, with her other hand feeling up your aching balls. A rough squeeze to them—one that makes you jerk so hard the bed shakes, making your dick throb even more.

 "See? Still so heavy and full. Not nearly done cumming, now are we?"

"M-mommy, fuck—" you swear under your breath, bucking your cock into her grasp as she pumps without mercy, keeping a hand squeezing your balls like they’ve got an endless amount stored. 

"Don't mommy me. Good boys can cum more than once, can't they? Shoot out another thick massive load that’ll make mommy so damn proud.” 

You’ve never been this helpless. There's no escape from these overstimulating sensations, each squeeze to your aching balls or pump of your length drawing out more of this painful pleasure. All while you can't do anything but clench your fists. Sakura’s got no end to these evil intentions, thumb rubbing against the underside of your cock with her hand speeding along.

"Jesus—god, fuck, please," you curse, wrists straining hard while Sakura ignores every desperate plea. 

"Oh, don't think that begging will do you any good. This isn't for you. This is for mommy." 

As if you already didn’t know that. Through all of this, the ache, the soreness of your poor cock, you still need this—need to reach that edge again, maybe more than she does. You don't even know whether to beg her to keep going, or for the opposite.

At least there's an end to this torment. Not like earlier in the week, where Sakura edged you from behind in front of a mirror in this exact room, so you could see your own pitiful reflection. A hand stroking your dick so fast—to be pulled right to the brink and then stopped completely, right before cum spurted out in thick, hot streams across the glass. 

"M-mommy—" That word leaves your lips so effortlessly, sounding so pitiful as you let the sensations consume your whole body, not even able to tell the difference between pain or pleasure anymore. You're just lost in this blissful torture, in every aching stroke that makes your balls tense up. But all that tension eases off—when your cock throbs one last time before Sakura stops and pulls her hand away, right as you finish emptying what's left in your balls out across your stomach, untouched the whole time.

It's cruel, the look she gives you when your cock twitches even in this weak orgasm that she's refused to help you with. The visual is enough for her, but the whimpers, the frustrated groans, they’re making sure that twisted grin doesn't go anywhere as your  swollen tip keeps shooting out pathetic little spurts that leave her more satisfied than you are. Even more when a single fingertip teases along your sensitive shaft, a simple little graze that comes a little too late. 

"What do you say, baby boy?"

Ridiculous that you should even think about thanking her, for an orgasm you didn't even want, nor did you even get to enjoy—and yet you do, out of pure mindless adoration. "Th-thank you, mommy. Thank you for making me cum again." 

It’s almost laughable—how Sakura shifts, from soft and sweet one moment, to an absolute sadistic demon the next. For now, her sweet side lingers as she laughs, glancing down at the mess you've made and kissing you without a second thought. The same moment, she's untying your wrists, massaging them as she peppers kisses all over the tender skin. Breaking out the lotion is next, from a nearby nightstand drawer, the same one used on your ass when she gets a little too crazy with the riding crop.

"Good boy. Mommy is so proud of you, I knew you'd shoot a big load again." 

The praise barely registers when you're about to collapse, but you'll take it, let the words flood through as those warm kisses get even sweeter, spreading her fingertips along the sticky mess that's coating your abs. The sticky substance she spreads around, lifting up her wet finger and just popping it in her mouth with no hesitation.

"I love tasting what comes out of my toy. It's my favorite part." Sakura takes her time, one sloppy lick at a time. She cleans off the mess with her tongue, dragging a slow path across your body and swiping away each drop until what’s left is the sheen of her spit once the rest is cleaned away. Then those same lips crash against yours and the taste of yourself is practically dripping off her tongue as it shoves into your mouth. No hesitation to deepen the kiss either, guiding your tongue like she owns your mouth with her hands grabbing either side of your face. 

Her lips are warm and the last bits of your release mixed with her spit slide between your lips as you lap away every trace of that bittersweet mixture until there's no more to enjoy. Until she keeps your face cupped in her hand, then with your mouth still open—she spits right in, landing it perfectly and it hits right in the back of your mouth.

"Now swallow that."

Of course you obey, tongue out like you have a craving for more. Sakura is happy to oblige and spits in your mouth a second time, holding your face close as you eagerly accept all she gives.

"Who's my pathetic good boy?"

That question hits differently with Sakura's loving smile directed down at you, hand brushing back a few loose strands of sweaty hair on your forehead. "M-me, mommy. I am. Your pathetic little fucktoy." 

"Never forget that. Mommy's precious toy who loves getting his ass plowed like a slut. Now come on—it's getting late and we should sleep. You'll need rest for tomorrow." 

The next morning rolls by and you're barely cognizant of your surroundings, when you're awakened with fingers threading through your hair and a familiar warmth right beside you. Sakura seems to be awake for some time already, sitting against the headboard, thumb tapping against her phone screen while her other hand is in your hair.

"Good morning, mommy—"

Sakura laughs. "It's already afternoon, silly."

A glance at the bedside table confirms what Sakura's already said, clock staring back with a harsh reminder that noon has long come and passed, the sun much brighter than when it usually wakes you up in the early hours.

"You really needed the sleep, so I tried to not bother you, baby boy. Did you sleep well?" 

How could you not, really? With all the exhaustion hitting all at once—the soreness in your muscles, the bruises on your wrists, the scratches along your back. Not forgetting the paddle marks on your sore ass still yet to fade, just a few examples. Not forgetting the moment of her plump ass smothering you with all that softness and warmth, sinking deep down, until you can barely breathe from how she relentlessly fucks your face.

"Baby boy—"

It takes a little tug from Sakura's fingers, a brief snap out of your thoughts, for you to realize you haven't responded yet. "Yes—of course, mommy. I did, I slept great. Better than I have in a while."

She's unconvinced at first, putting her phone down for the time being and giving you all her attention when she swings her body over yours. Straddling your hips, the hem of the long t-shirt she's wearing rises higher until you catch a peek of what's beneath. 

"You sure about that? Can't have my poor toy be too worn out. Mommy was pretty rough yesterday, can't have you falling apart on me just yet."

The reality is—falling apart is inevitable at this point. You're been far beyond that since the beginning, put through the ringer enough times that you aren't sure if there's a part of you not broken. Every dirty, degrading act you thought she could possibly throw at you. Every toy imaginable stuffed in you to ruin your ass. Every painful edging session—tied to the bed with your wrists held down with handcuffs, rope, zip ties—every inch of your skin kissed, nipped, and bitten. Enough cum blown across every surface imaginable, or just over Sakura's open palm, her face, inside her cunt, all over that pretty ass that you'd lay your life down to worship.

And still, you're more addicted to this girl than ever. To that smile while her fingers rest right on your cheek, to the bruises on your neck from her choking you. "I'm okay, mommy. I'm okay—"

Your words fade once again and you're not even sure if you believe what's being said, but Sakura seems to, which is all that matters. Enough that she'll brush those messy bangs out of the way and bend down, enough that she'll plant soft little kisses along the fading marks across your neck, tracing the purple hue. Kisses just as light along your collarbone, until she inches down little by little, every scratch and bite along your skin being cared for and soothed, her lips pressing all over your body with so much affection you never want it to end.

"Since I was so rough yesterday, and because you've been such a good boy—you get to relax and we don't need to do anything all day," Sakura says, lips not straying too far from your mouth for too long.

"Just wanna stay in bed with you all day, mommy. You can play games and I won't bother you, and I'll just..."

She laughs, pressing a firm kiss at the corner of your mouth. "You can bother me, baby boy. Bother me all you want—all you need."

"Can we order food?"

"Whatever you want. You know I hate leaving the house unless I absolutely need to. Only for work and important things—nothing else."

"Cheesecake?"

"Only after eating other actual food," Sakura scolds, sitting straight back up and reaching for her phone. 

"The extra expensive one with raspberry glaze and ice cream?" 

"Yes, that one. The fanciest cheesecake you can imagine. You can have two, even, just don't make yourself sick." 

"Can't promise that—" That laughter hits louder than before, echoing around the room. Sakura just shakes her head before a finger slides across her phone screen a few times. 

"All the cheesecake you want then, baby boy." 

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Can't Stand It, Backhanded

SSA Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: Reader and Hotch have never gotten along. When they are paired together for a mission, things come unraveled.

CW: SMUT, soft dom!Hotch, flirt!reader, enemies to lovers, hate sex, car sex, degradation, choking, fingering, tit play, p in v, creampie

a/n: ugh, this gif of thomas gets me flustered every single time. i dont care how much older he is than me, i just need one night alone with him and its over

title track 🎶❤️‍🔥

~~~

Silence. Looming heavily over the SUV you rode in. Staring forward, not daring to look over at your driver.

Aaron Hotchner. Your boss. Leader of your Team at the BAU. Stern and meticulous. Not the kind for joking or bending the rules. Doing what has to be done to solve a case.

Needless to say, the two of you did not exactly get along.

From the moment you had been brought onto the team, there was a certain disdain he had for you. Eyes constantly lasered into you. Tending to be short when he spoke to you. Not fond of the way you often flirted with your coworkers. Even though he did not say a word when Penelope and Derek did the same thing back and forth. Refusing to give you the same opportunities to show your worth that he gave the others.

Now here you were. Alone with him in the passenger seat of one of the FBI’s vehicles. Hushed as tension suffocated you. Hiding any noise that your body would normally make from fear of making things more uncomfortable. Being separated from the rest of your Team, placed in ‘strategic groups’ that Rossi had come up with. Neither of you were happy, but you had been the final two left at the end of David’s list.

Finally, you worked up the courage to look over at him. White knuckles gripped the steering wheel, one finger picking at the faux leather. Dark, oaky eyes met your glance. Lips pierced tightly together in annoyance.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you sighed, resting your cheek against your palm. Looking up at the passing stars of the night sky.

Recollecting the first time things had gotten awkward between you.

“I mean… yeah, he’s hot. But does he have to be such a hard ass all the time?” you joked with your hands tucked behind your head, sitting center of the bullpen with all your female teammates.

“Hot?!” Emily snorted out a laugh.

“Yes! He’s got that newly divorced dad look to him. Have you had your eyes checked, Em?”

“I think this one is just you, doll,” Penelope giggled, chewing on the tip of her pen.

All of you had congregated discussing some details of the new case. Derailing into a trivial discussion of fuck, marry, kill with your male teammates being the subjects.

“There has to be a reason he’s divorced, right? Haley wouldn’t have put up with it that long unless the sex was good,” you snickered.

“Oh, Jesus,” J.J. laughed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Look, I get it. Derek’s fine as hell, too. But Hotch is clearly the superior choice,” you gloated until you noticed how silent they all grew. Refusing to look in your general direction. A cold chill ran down your spine. Straightening your posture and turning slowly to look over your shoulder. Coughing as you faced him, cheeks heating up with pure embarrassment.

“Superior choice for what exactly?” His expression was rooted in anger. Knowing deep down he had overheard every single word. Testing you. Simply asking to see if you would slip up. Seeing if you were willing to lie to him. You swallowed the non-existent spit in your mouth.

“Oh! Sup-Superior choice as our Team Leader, of course. Since Strauss has been breathing down your neck and all, I was just saying— y’know that I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else, Hotch, sir,” you vomited out your excuse. Realizing how unintentionally condescending you sounded. Having a staring contest with him, taking a smile that hurt your cheeks to maintain.

“Get back to work,” Hotch stated dryly, walking off to his office.

Hotch had never looked at you the same since. Unlike his prior disdain, this one was deeply rooted in him. Making sure you knew it just by the way his eyes expressed when they saw you. Teeth bared anytime you would dare question his plans. Or even give a look that said you did not fully agree with the plan of action. He despised your very being, that’s how it seemed based off how he treated you. So when moments like this came up, you tried your hardest to ignore him and remain as professional as possible.

Your attention was back on him when he took a turn off the path. Going down into some pull-off area for travelers. Abandoned, or at least not properly kept up.

“Wh… What are we doing here?”

Hotch stayed silent, putting the SUV in park. Unbuckling and beginning to exit when you called out of him once again, “Hotch—?

“I have to take a piss. Do you want to come along question me on that too?” he growled at you. Hitting a nerve inside you that had been previously untouched. Slamming the door behind him. The nail in the coffin.

“What is your problem with me?”

Following behind him outside the vehicle. Stoic expression glanced towards you. Jaw locked and nostrils flared. Lips knitted tightly together as his eyes scanned down your figure. Noticing how your arms held onto one another. Knowing this was out of character for you. Willing to questions others, but hating confrontation. Eyes dark when they met yours once again.

“My problem with you?” a hint of mockery under his monotone voice.

“Yes! All I’ve ever wanted was to feel like a part of this team. I want to know why you’re so cold and cruel with me,” you gritted your teeth together, brows furrowed as you begged for an explanation.

“Get back inside.”

“No.”

“I am still your superior—“

“Then why don’t you act like it? You don’t like that I’m flirtatious? Reprimand me. You don’t like something I said? Tell me that. If I’m doing something that is upsetting you this badly, I need you to tell me. So I can fix it. I try so hard to please you, but I need you to tell me what you want. Or… just kick me off the team. Something— Anything—“

Suddenly his hands were wrapped around your wrists. Pinned to the side of the SUV you had arrived in. Arms bent beside your head, Hotch becoming nose-to-nose with you. Eyes flying open as your mouth ran dry. Throat tightening as you scanned his eyes for an answer to what was happening. Shaky breaths falling from you as your body panicked softly. Heart racing against your eardrums.

“You sure do have a funny way of trying to please me. Openly flirting with every single male coworker you have? Joking with your teammates about how much of a ‘hard ass’ I am? Making some stupid joke about my ex-wife? And then, you have the nerve to mock my authority? Sure doesn’t seem like it is one of your priorities,” Hotch breathed down your throat. Bruising strength holding your wrists. Eyebrows arched as he bared his teeth at you with each word.

Your eyebrows upturned as you tried to form a rebuttal.

“You are nothing but a constant buzz in my ear. A reminder that my leadership is nothing but a suggestion in your mind. Undermining me at every convenience. Can you not just accept that I am your boss. Your leader. Someone you are supposed to respect and obey," Hotch closed in on your face. Shoulders heaving with each deep breath he took.

You were frozen. Speechless. Throat tighter than it had ever been before. A soft shake to your hands. Glossy eyes looked around his face. Vein on his head poking out, skin pinched tightly between his brows.

"You were the best agent for the job. That is why I hired you. Perfect scores, perfect performance. Yet, you are nothing like your application would've suggested. More concerned with trivial nonsense. Like some idiotic game where you decide whether or not you would sleep with me. Or if I have some made-up problem with you," Hotch scoffed in your face. His breath hot as it fanned along your skin.

Lying to yourself about the way your insides quivered with his hands on you. Breathing rapidly as you held his gaze. Legs feeling like jelly as arousal pool between them. The smell of his aftershave mixing in not helping. His demanding, deep tone had your face flushed. You swallowed hard, refusing to speak. Scared to upset him further. Scared to disappoint him more than you had. Wanting nothing more than his approval.

"At least I made your list," Hotch smirked, voice sultry as his lips inched closer to yours.

"W-What?"

"That childish game all of you were playing. You said I was your choice, right?"

You shyly nodded. Confused by the sudden change in demeanor. Almost like he was teasing you now. Clearly aware of the effect he had on your body.

And then his lips were on yours. Hungry as they captured you in a feverish kiss. Melting into his front as he pressed his body into yours. Shocked by his straight-forwardness. Trailing his lips down to your throat. Teeth grazing against your pulse. Causing you to shiver with a soft sigh. Feeling how his mouth morphed into a grin. Doeing your eyes at him as he pulled away. Dark locks falling over his forehead.

"Get in the backseat," Hotch commanded. Hands fiddling with his tie as it grew suddenly tight around his throat.

Without hesitation, you obliged. Opening the door and crawling into the spacious backseat. Legs spread awkwardly as you back into the other side up against the door. Watching Hotch roll up his sleeves as his tie hung loosely around his collar. Closing the door behind him as he joined you. Anxiety pooling in your core as he crawled on top of you. Hand coming up to cup your cheek. Lips attaching to yours once more, somehow hungrier than before.

Your arms draped over his shoulders, hands splaying against his broad back. Lapping into your mouth as his hands roamed your body. Pinching your hardening nipple through the fabric on your chest. Aggressively undoing the buttons along your torso to give himself better access. Exploring the soft skin of your belly, creeping their way up to the clasp of your bra.

“Hotch—“

“Aaron,” he corrected, “I want you to call me Aaron.”

“Aaron,” it sounded sensual coming from you in this situation, “What are we doing?”

Silencing your question with another kiss. Hands guiding your back against the cold leather of the seats. His large chest hovering over you, tie tickling your exposed skin. Cups of your bra loosened when he undid the clasp. Being folded down by Hotch. Smirking at your already hardened nipples.

Your own hands ghosted up his torso. Pinching at the top button. Hotch’s hand quick to grab yours, squeezing tightly to stun it. Squeaking at his surprising strength. Opting to not fight him, liking him controlling the situation more.

“What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to feel you,” you admitted meekly. Trying to keep up your puppy dog eyes.

“Ask.”

“Aaron,” you breathed out, “May I?” Finger tips tapping along his button line. Pushing yourself up to kiss his throat. Featherlight pressure as you decorated him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. Analyzing you.

Large palm rested against your throat. Pushing you flat against the seat once again. Gagging softly at the pressure. Eyes wide as they looked up at him. Fingers squeezed your pulse, “Go ahead and unbutton my shirt, sweetheart.”

You did as you were told. His hand never leaving your throat as you strained to reach each button. Heart racing against his fingers as you softly struggled to maintain breath. Making sure to play into his game, doing exactly as you were told. His shirt hung loosely at his sides, tie barely in tact as it dangled above you.

Hotch’s thumb grazed over your bottom lip, never leaving your throat. He leaned down and pressed his lips right below your ear, “Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” His soft side still deeply intertwined into him. Never wanting to harm you, even when you did disobey.

Having a soft spot for you, hence the constant irritation. Confused and frustrated when your eyes would meet his causing his chest to twist. When you wore a tighter pair of pants or a low cut shirt, his cock would throb between his legs. Wanting to call you into his office and ravage you. He liked you. That was the problem.

You nodded. Realizing this behavior was a tactic to get you submissive. Wanting to dominate and feel like he had full control over you. It turned him on.

“Can I— touch your chest?” you choked.

“See? I knew you would catch on,” Hotch mocked, leaning down and kissing your lips, “You may.”

Your hands flattened against his bare chest. Softly petting the dark hair that danced down his chest. Particularly drawn to the bit of happy trail directly above his belt buckle. Fingertips daring to dip below the waistband. Earning a muffled groan from Hotch.

“Watch it,” he reprimanded, voice husky and dark.

Hotch's hands undid your zipper, lifting your waist and pulling your pants down your legs. Leaning back and releasing one leg fully, fabric pooling at the bottom of your other. Large, muscular hands felt up your thighs. Staring intently at your thin, lacy panties. Noting that the fabric matched your bra. Feeling overtly exposed before your leader. Breasts on full display along with your soaking core being hidden away by the night sky.

Large finger sliding up your clothed slit, brows jumping in surprise. "You're already so wet," Hotch grinned, smugness on his expression, "Do I really turn you on that much, Agent?"

A sharp breath escaped your lungs as his lips hovered over your chest. Words hot as they cascaded down your nudity. Using your title as a way of toying with you. Knowing it would resonate between your legs.

"Mmhmp," you mumbled as his lips attached to your nipple. Licking and sucking the bud, one of his hands circling your entrance. Pushing the soft fabric into your hole, soaking it further with your arousal. Moaning and squirming below him. Knot tightening in your lower stomach. Eyes squinted shut as your nails dug into his back. Muscles tight against your scratches.

Hotch pushed your panties to the side, sliding two fingers into your cunt. You called out to him loudly, walls clinching around him at the sudden entry. Back arching into his touch. Curling his thick digits against your spongy insides. A certain cockiness overtook his brow, perfect teeth reflecting the moonlight through the mostly tinted window.

"Such a whore. Letting me finger fuck you while we're on a case. What would all our friends say?" his voice was barely above a whisper. Taken over by his own lust for you. Breathing heavier when he felt his cock pulse between his legs.

A pathetic whimper was all you could give him in return.

God, he knew how to use his fingers. Coaxing you to your orgasm faster than ever before. Walls sputtering as if asking him permission. The voice in the back of your mind telling you to ask him. Knowing there was a good chance he would be angry if you gave in without him telling you.

"Aaron—"

"You better not. Not until I say you can. You hear me? Be a good girl and wait for me," Hotch growled, quickening his fingers inside you. Thumb circling your clit perfectly. You whined and tried to buck away from his touch. If things kept up, you would not be able to control yourself. Focusing all your efforts into not coming undone. Looking up and catching his eyes, sweat beamed down his brow. Breathing heavily as his fingers caressed your walls.

Your breath quickened. Breasts shaking as your lungs fought for air. Hotch could tell how close you were. Desperately wanting to make you scream his name, but knowing he only had time to get one out of you before the Team would get worried. Needing it to be around his cock.

So he stopped. Removing his fingers from you faster than they had entered. Eliciting a whine of discomfort from you. Unhappy eyes pleading up at him as your mouth hung open. Panting like a dog. Weak hands reaching out for him momentarily, falling flat at your sides. You pouted with glossy eyes.

Hotch palmed himself through his pants as he stared down at your worked body. Swearing he had never seen you so beautiful. Longing for his touch to satisfy you. Quickly undoing his belt and freeing his aching member. Curving up toward his stomach as the tip leaked. Swollen and twitching. Thicker than you had imagined. You gawked at his length. Feeling how your body instinctively wanted to touch it.

You reached forward, Hotch stopped your hand. Brow quirked up as he looked down on you, "What's the rule?"

"Please, Aaron. I need it," you sounded pathetic. Craving his dick shoved deep inside you, but also curious of how it would feel in your hand. Wanting to see Hotch's face as you stroked him.

Your hooded eyes and soft frown broke his heart. Facade of dominance and control faltering for a moment. Never imagining a woman who was so strong in the field would be a whining, begging mess when he would touch her. Happily surprised.

"You want to touch it that bad?"

You shyly nodded.

His mouth curved, "Touch me."

You did as you were told. Wrapping your hand around his length. Biting your lip when it twitched against your touch. Smiling as his pre-cum beaded when you stroked up. Velvety skin bunching with each pump. Hotch's breath came out broken. Not having had someone else's hand on him in some time. Loving how perfectly your fingers gripped him. Not able to wait much longer.

Hotch leaned down to your level, pulling his cock away from your hand. Holding himself by the base and lining it up with your entrance. Pushing just the tip in first. Scanning your face for a reaction. Your eyes practically rolled back in your head, "Fuck, Aaron."

"Dirty mouth," he kissed your lips, sheathing himself fully inside you. You huffed and moaned when you felt his balls smack against your skin. Rhythm fast and hard in and out of you. Sloppy sounds filling the SUV.

"Y'r pussy's so tight," his voice came out strained. Calling out his name like a prayer over and over. Hotch took one of your hands in his, intertwining fingers with you above your head. More intimate than you had imagined he would be. Chest fluttering at the action.

A low buzz alerted you.

"A-Aaron," you whimpered, still drunk on his cock, "Your ph-phone."

Hotch glanced over at the middle console. Small screen on his phone illuminating the space. Grabbing it with his free hand. Pressing his finger to his lips before cupping his hand over your mouth. Shoving two fingers deep in your throat. Gagging silently around them.

"Hotch? Where are you guys?" Derek's voice could be heard from the small speaker of the flip-phone in his hand. Hotch rolled his hips into you once more as he spoke, "We blew a tire out on the drive up. Had to stop and get it patched."

Your eyes doed up at him. Gargling around his digits.

"Are you both okay?"

"Yes. We will be there soon, just go ahead and do things according to Rossi's plan," Hotch smirked down at you, his apathetic tone never fading even when he was balls deep inside you. Clicking off the phone and throwing it into the front seat. Pulling his fingers from your mouth. Admiring the way they glistened, placing them on your clit. Circling the aching nub. Coaxing a loud moan from you.

"If I had known you would sound this pretty with my dick in you, I would've fucked you already," Hotch cooed, teasing as he smirked.

"It's so good, Aaron," you whined, drunk on his cock.

"Then cum on it," Hotch's voiced dropped an octave. Eyes dark as they scanned over your body. Watching the way your thighs twitched and shivered. How hard your nipples still were. And how you tried so hard to hold eye contact with him.

You were under his control. Only his. The rest of the world disappeared from you both. High on bliss that both your bodies gave one another. Your stomach tightened. Knot so firm it was going to burst. Walls locking up as you held your breath.

"Aaron, can I?"

He chuckled in response. Cynical and humiliating. Unable to believe you still played by the rules when you were this fucked.

"Yes, sweetheart," Hotch tightened his grip on your hand.

His soft tone pushed you over the edge. Writhing below him as you convulsed around his thick cock. Sucking him further into you. Insides trying to get him to fill you up. You whined and moaned and squeaked. Hotch's name a repetitive gargle of noises. He never ceased his hips as they snapped into yours. Riding and prolonging the waves of orgasm throughout your cunt. Feeling himself approaching his own end.

"Can I cum in you?"

"Please."

A few more thrusts and his hips were flush with yours. Coating your sensitive walls with his seed. Sputtering his hips trying to keep giving you every last drop. Aftershock still present on you as you clinched each time he moved. Hotch remained inside you for a moment. Savoring how you felt now around his softening member. Infatuated by the way your skin shined with sweat.

Hotch pulled himself slowly out. The loss stinging. His lips were tender on yours now, his hand putting your panties back in place. Kissing you more romantically than he had all night. Soft, caring side of him showing now. His hand softly guided through your hair, petting you. His other still laced in your own.

You blinked your eyes open. Jaw still hung as you gasped. Smiling up at Hotch. Unsure of how you got in this situation, but not caring either. Happy to feel his weight on top of you. Musky smell filling the vehicle. He rested his head on your chest. Listening to your rapid heartbeat.

Your own phone buzzing in your pant pocket breaking you both away from your slice of heaven. A final kiss planting itself on your lips as Hotch helped you get redressed. Checking each other out to make sure you both looked the same as you had before. Both your cheeks glowing for one another.

You held Hotch's hand the rest of the silent car ride. Tension no longer in the air.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! Big fan of Hotch fucking on the clock because realistically he never would. BUT IMAGINE IF HE DID. Guess I imagined for us both *wink*. As always, if you want to be tagged in any future works, please let me know! Reblogs and Comments appreciated! //

{tags}

@pastelpinkflowerlife ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @megangovier ~ @bau-tiful ~ @cherriready ~ @mrs-ssa-hotch ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @justyourusualash ~ @boybandbaby ~ @zaddyhotch ~ @bookworm-in-disguise ~ @sxlverx ~ @upsidedownbunnyy ~ @maesmayhem ~ @risenqueen1521 ~ @bernelflo ~ @i-betyouthink-about-me ~ @itsneverlupus2 ~ @blackgoddessworld ~ @frankiethedarkangel ~ @joywolf56 ~ @midnghtprentiss ~ @1mjustagirl ~ @donttrustlove ~ @queenofvelaris ~ @sweetbearcolorgarden ~

[m4rv3l-girl]

Vanilla

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky overhears Y/N talking to Nat about her unfulfilled desires…

Requests Open!

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). P in v sex. Slight Sir kink. All after the red division —————-

The soft afternoon set in around the compound, casting warm shadows in the living room where you and Bucky often spent lazy afternoons together.

Today, however, he was out training with Steve, and you found solace in the quiet as you prepared a small snack in the kitchen. You were humming softly to yourself, the sound of your movements blending with the faint echoes of clanking weights coming from outside.

Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup of tea, Natasha entered, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, a knowing smile on her lips. “Hey, Y/N!” she called out, crossing the room with a confident stride.

“Hey, Nat!” you replied, your heart lifting at her presence. “Want some tea?”

“Sure!” she said, leaning against the counter, her gaze curious.

“So, how’s it going with Bucky..?”

You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks, a smile breaking across your face. This was your favorite question - because life with Bucky was just incredible. “It’s great! I mean, he’s just... he’s amazing.” The warmth of your feelings was palpable, and you couldn’t help but beam as you spoke about him.

Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can tell you’re smitten. What’s he been up to?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Training, trying to get better at the whole ‘normal life’ thing. He’s been really sweet lately.”

You absentmindedly stirred your tea, remembering the little things he did—like the way he always made sure you had your favorite snacks or how he would leave little notes around the house.

“Sweet, huh?” Natasha teased. “What about in the other department?”

You paused, biting your lip. Nat was never bashful.

The question made your heart race. “Well, it’s great, it is... but I guess I have some... unfulfilled desires,” you admitted shyly, your voice dropping as you glanced away.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, leaning in as if she were about to divulge a juicy secret. “Like what?”

You hesitated, a nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, maybe trying something a little less... vanilla.” The words slipped out, and you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Natasha smirked, leaning closer with a conspiratorial tone. “No, I get it. You want to spice things up a little?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I just think we could do something more…”

“Kinky?” She stated.

You felt the itch of blood rushing to your face.

“I understand that, it took me and Bruce a while to get into the swing of something more interesting. He was always scared he’d break me. Think that Bucky’s problem?”

Before you could reply, a heavy footfall sounded from the hallway, and the door swung open. Bucky stepped into the room, glancing between the two of you.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, the playfulness in his voice tinged with curiosity.

You quickly straightened up, forcing a smile. “Oh, we were just talking about... nothing much!”

Bucky looked from you to Natasha, his instincts picking up on the slight tension in the air. “Right. Well, I’ll just go grab a drink.” He turned, his expression unreadable as he walked away.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, her teasing smile replaced by something softer. “You should talk to him, you know. Communication is key,” she said gently before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what you had just shared hanging in the air. What would he say if you brought it up? Would he be upset? You hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He was perfect in so many ways, but you longed for a deeper connection, a chance to explore more together.

——————————————————————————————————

Later on, you and Bucky were sitting together on the couch, watching something neither of you were watching.

“Everything okay?” you asked one evening as you curled up next to him on the couch, your fingers tracing patterns on his arm.

He looked down at you, a slight frown crossing his face.

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart,” he replied, but the hesitation in his voice made you worry.

“Are you sure? You seem a little... off.” You shifted, trying to catch his gaze, but he looked away, focusing on the television instead.

“I’m just... thinking about stuff,” he said, his tone evasive.

You wanted to press him further, to ask about that day with Natasha, but something held you back. Instead, you settled for resting your head on his shoulder, hoping he would open up when he was ready.

——————————————————————————————————

As the days passed, Bucky started to show subtle signs of change.

He began cooking more elaborate meals, experimenting with spices and flavors, making an effort to make each dinner an occasion. You found yourself laughing and teasing him about his newfound culinary skills, and it felt like old times when the air was light and carefree.

One night, after a particularly delightful dinner, you found yourself sitting on the counter, your legs swinging as Bucky cleaned up the dishes. You watched him with admiration, noticing the way his muscles flexed as he scrubbed the plates, lost in thought.

“Want some help?” you offered, swinging your legs over the edge.

“Nope, I got this, darling,” he replied, flashing you a smile that made your heart skip. “Just enjoy your time, Kitten.”

But as he continued washing the dishes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still bothering him. “You’ve been acting a little different lately,” you ventured, trying to keep your tone light.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Different how?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t know. Just... more serious, I guess. Is everything okay?”

Bucky set down the dish he was cleaning and turned to face you fully, the light reflecting in his blue eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just... trying to think about what you said the other day.”

Your heart raced at his words, hope mingling with anxiety. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, the space between you charged with unspoken words. “About wanting more than just the usual, you know?”You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to—”He interrupted, his expression softening.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I want to make sure you’re happy, that you feel fulfilled.”

A wave of warmth washed over you, but your nerves fluttered. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Bucky. I just—”

“No, I want to,” he said firmly, stepping closer until your legs brushed against his. “I just didn’t know if that was something you really wanted.”

Your heart pounded as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of his words warming you from the inside out. “I do. I just want to explore... things together.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his gaze intense. “Then let’s do it. I want to make it special for you.”

The promise in his voice sent butterflies dancing in your stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding your senses. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’d love that.”

Bucky's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. The tenderness of the gesture made your breath catch. 

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I want to hear you say it."

You felt a rush of heat flood your body at his words. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly dry lips. "I... I want you to take control," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "To push my boundaries a little."

His eyes darkened at your confession, pupils dilating with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone serious despite the obvious want in his gaze.

You nodded, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. "Yes. I trust you, Bucky."

A slow smile spread across his face, equal parts tender and wicked. "Alright, doll. Let's start slow." His metal hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "First rule - you do exactly as I say. Understood?"

A shiver ran down your spine at the commanding tone in his voice. "Yes," you breathed.

"Yes, what?" he prompted, eyebrow raised.

You swallowed hard, realizing what he wanted. "Yes... sir."

Bucky's eyes flashed with approval. "Good girl," he purred, the praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "Now, I want you to keep your hands at your sides. Don't move them unless I tell you to."

You nodded, heart racing as he slowly began unbuttoning your shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin with each movement, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When he reached the last button, he pushed the fabric open, exposing

your lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened instantly under his scrutiny, straining against the delicate fabric.

"Beautiful," Bucky murmured, his flesh hand skimming along your collarbone. "I've always loved this bra on you."

You fought the urge to arch into his touch, remembering his command to keep still. The effort it took sent a thrill through you.

"Thank you, sir," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire.

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of lust and tenderness in their blue depths. "You're doing so well already, doll. Now, I want you to close your eyes."

You obeyed instantly, darkness enveloping you as your other senses heightened. You could hear Bucky's steady breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body so close

to yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you waited for his next move.

Suddenly, you felt the cool metal of his left hand tracing along your jawline, down your neck, across your collarbone. The contrast between the chill of the vibranium and the warmth of your flushed skin made you gasp softly.

"Shh," Bucky murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Remember, no moving unless I say so and be quiet, Kitten"

You bit your lip, fighting to stay still as his metal fingers danced along the edge of your bra, teasing but not quite touching where you desperately wanted him to.

His flesh hand came up to cup your other breast, kneading gently through the lace. A whimper escaped your throat at the dual sensations.

"That's it, doll," Bucky praised, his voice rough with desire. "You're doing so well for me."

His metal thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, causing it to harden instantly. You arched your back slightly, craving more contact, but Bucky tsked softly.

"What did I say about moving?" he reminded you, withdrawing his hands. The loss of his touch was agonizing.

"I'm sorry," you breathed. "Please, Sir. I need you."

He chuckled low in his throat. "I know you do, sweetheart. And you'll have me. But only when I decide you're ready."

His flesh hand slid down your stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. Your thighs trembled with the effort of keeping still as he teased you mercilessly.

"Tell me what you want," Bucky commanded, his voice husky.

Your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. Bucky's touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"I... I want you to touch me," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with need. "Everywhere."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire as he slowly slid your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His metal hand trailed up your inner thigh, the cool touch making you shiver with anticipation.

"Like this?" he asked, his fingers ghosting over your most sensitive areas, barely making contact.

You whimpered, fighting the urge to buck your hips. "More, please," you begged.

Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. His metal hand continued its teasing exploration between your thighs, while his flesh hand cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple.

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he murmured against your skin. "I want to hear you say it."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and shyness, but you forced yourself to vocalize your desires. "I want... I want your fingers in me," you breathed. "And your mouth here..."

A low growl rumbled in Bucky's chest as he obliged, sliding two cool metal fingers into your slick heat while his lips closed around your nipple. You gasped at the dual sensations, your back arching involuntarily.

Bucky's metal fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars.

His tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked gently, sending hard rushes of pleasure through your body. You moaned, struggling to keep still as he'd commanded.

"That's it, doll," he murmured against your breast. "Let me hear how good it feels."

His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right pressure. You cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as you fought the urge to grind against his hand.

"Sir, please," you whimpered. "I need more."

He lifted his head, his blue eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me."

You swallowed hard, gathering your courage. "I want... I want your mouth on me. Down here."

Bucky's eyes flashed with hunger at your words. "Is that so?" he murmured, trailing kisses down your stomach. "I think I can arrange that."

He settled between your thighs, his warm breath teasing your sensitive flesh. You trembled in anticipation as he placed soft kisses along your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding where you needed him most.

"Bucky," you whined, desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you. "Patience, doll. I'm going to take my time with you."

Finally, his tongue flattened against your core, licking a long, slow stripe.

You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.

Bucky's metal arm draped over your pelvis, holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. His tongue circled your clit before sucking, your hips bucking involuntarily. Bucky's metal arm draped across your lower abdomen, holding you in place as he explored you with his mouth. His talented tongue swirled around your clit before dipping lower, tasting your arousal.

You moaned loudly, forgetting his earlier command for silence in your pleasure.

Bucky paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of amusement and stern reproach in his eyes. "What did I say about staying quiet, doll?" he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh.

You bit your lip, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Please don't stop."

He smirked, trailing his flesh hand up your inner thigh. "I suppose I can forgive you this time," he said, his voice low and husky. "But you'll have to work harder to stay silent."

Without warning, he plunged another 2 fingers inside you, curling them expertly as his mouth returned to your clit. The sparks of euphoria were overwhelming, and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure. Bucky worked you relentlessly, his fingers pumping in and out while his tongue flicked and swirled. You writhed beneath him, desperate for release yet fighting to stay quiet. Your free hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer.

He growled against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure building, your thighs trembling as you neared the edge. Bucky sensed your impending climax and redoubled his efforts, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot inside you while sucking hard on your clit.

Your body tensed as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You bit down hard on your lip, tasting blood as you fought to remain silent. Your back arched off the bed as your orgasm ripped through you, vision going white at the edges. Bucky didn't let up, working you through every aftershock until you were a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.

Finally, he lifted his head, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. He crawled up your body, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth.

"Good girl," he murmured against your lips. "You did so well staying quiet for me."

His erection pressed insistently against your thigh, reminding you that he was far from finished with you. Bucky trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His metal hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple and drawing a soft gasp from your lips.

"Think you can stay quiet for what comes next, doll?" he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded eagerly, beyond words as anticipation coursed through you. Bucky chuckled darkly, positioning himself between your thighs. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds, teasing you mercilessly. Your hips bucked, seeking more contact, but his hands gripped your waist firmly.

"Ah ah," he tsked. "Patience, remember?"

You whimpered softly, desperate for him to fill you.

Bucky's eyes locked with yours, dark with lust, as he slowly pushed inside. Your breath caught in your throat as he stretched you, the delicious burn of his thick length making your toes curl. He paused when fully sheathed, giving you a moment to adjust.

"So tight for me, doll," he groaned, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding still.

You clenched around him experimentally, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. Taking that as his cue, Bucky began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts that had you seeing stars. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingertips as he drove into you.

Gradually, his pace increased. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin and your muffled whimpers.

Bucky's pace increased, driving into you with powerful strokes. The old couch creaked beneath you as he pounded relentlessly, hitting that perfect spot deep inside with each thrust. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure against his skin.

His metal hand gripped your hip, the cool plates a stark contrast to your feverish skin. The other tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat. Bucky's lips latched onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he marked you as his.

"Say you’re mine," he growled, his voice rough with exertion and desire. "Say it."

"Yours," you gasped out, teetering on the edge of orgasm. "I'm yours, Bucky."

He groaned at your words, his hips snapping faster. "That's right, Kitten. All mine…Fuck-" Bucky growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me again. Let me feel you."

His words pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as waves of pleasure crashed over you, the corners of your vision going white as your second orgasm came faster than the first had. You bit down on Bucky's shoulder, your walls clenching around him.

Bucky groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, spilling himself with a low moan of your name.

You both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. Bucky's weight pressed you into the arm of the couch, his face buried in your neck as he placed soft kisses along your collarbone.

“Still too vanilla, Princess?” He muttered.

“I…”

“Maybe next time I’ll get the rope out.” Bucky deadpanned.

——————————————————————————————————-

So, what do you think? Should Bucky get the rope out? 🤔

[corameiwrites]

𖦹 searching for love 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: your shift at a small bookstore is about to end when a handsome stranger walks in five minutes before closing

wc: 2k

pt. 2

A far off chime sounded from the old grandfather clock, signaling the passing of another half hour. That meant it was 8:30, and more officially, 30 minutes past closing time. Normally, you would have been packed up and locking the door by 7:58, eager to get home to your grouchy cat, messy room, and half-written research paper. There was nothing normal, however, about the six-foot something man with biceps the size of your head, meticulously browsing the shelves of your bookstore. 

Well, not yours, but the number of shifts you picked up having to pay the bills for your not-so-cheap Gotham apartment had basically made this place your second home.

So when the very fit and handsome stranger walked in a mere five minutes to closing, you lingered a little. Behind the counter at the front of the store, of course. It was far too scary to go and ask him if he needed help—you would run the risk of embarrassing yourself further. 

Earlier, when he had entered, you made the mistake of welcoming him with a rushed “Good Morning” despite the full moon visible through the store windows. He had glanced in your direction, nodded, and walked further into the store, going to start his long search of whatever it was he came here to look for. 

Which, by the looks of it, he found. 

He set the books down near you, looking at an assortment of random trinkets and bookmarks displayed on the counter. 

You smile, recognizing the titles. “Are you a fan of Austen?” 

His head sprung up as though he hadn’t been expecting you to speak to him. “Uh, yeah. Used to read some of her stuff when I was younger. Thought I’d pick them up again.” 

“Ah, I see. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites.” Looking up the titles on the rather out-dated computer, you ring them up on the register. 

“Then I’ll be sure to read it first.”  The corners of his mouth twitch up in a semi-smile as his hands retreat into his leather pockets. An odd choice to zip a leather jacket all the way to his chin, but who are you to judge? It's only now you're looking that you notice the scars littered across his face, as well as the few wisps of stark white hair across his forehead. You look down into his eyes, and though it was only a fleeting moment of prolonged eye-contact, it made you feel far too vulnerable.

 Looking away and vaguely remembering some staff meeting about professionalism, you read the total amount due to him. “Cash or card?”

“Uh–cash.” His face blanks, and he blinks twice before digging through his pockets. His brows furrow. “Sorry, I…” his hands pat down his cargo pants before his shoulders slump. His face turns to one of slight annoyance. “I lost my wallet.”

“Oh.” Frankly, you don’t know what to do in this situation, and by the looks of it, neither does he. It's a little awkward—do you suggest he trace his steps? Call the bank to pause all his cards? But he’s paying in cash. Oh god, a thought crosses your mind. Is he a criminal? Fortunately, your mouth speaks before you even process what's coming out of it. “I could…put these on hold for you, if you want?” 

He runs a hand through his hair, and it's embarrassing the way your eyes track the movement. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother. It's my fault, anyways.” 

“It’s not a bother, it happens to the best of us,” leaning over the counter, you point to a small poster with store hours. “I work tomorrow and Wednesday until closing if you want to come in around this same time, but I could tell my other coworkers of the situation if you come in a different day or time.” 

Silently, he stares at the poster. You recline back to your standing position, mentally slapping yourself for sharing your work schedule with a complete stranger who could very well be a criminal. A hot criminal. 

“...You close at eight?” 

“Yes sir, every day except for Sundays.” Thank you for finally showing up, customer service voice. He frowns, lifting his arm and pushing the sleeve of his leather jacket up before looking at you in shock. 

“You're closed right now?” he asked, though it sounded more like a state of a fact. 

You start to fidget with your clothes. “Technically speaking, yes.” 

His hand flies to his face, semi-face palming. “Shit,” he starts to back away slowly towards the door. “I am so sorry, I didn’t know.” 

You smile at his panic, feeling a little amused despite yourself. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” 

“No, it's horrible, I’m horrible.” You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at his apologetic demeanor. By now he's halfway out the door, but turns back at your laugh.

“Trust me, it’s completely fine. I’ll keep these,” you lift up Pride & Prejudice, “behind the counter. Good luck finding your wallet!” 

To that he nods, leaving and walking down the sidewalk in a rush. You stand for a minute, replaying the strange yet exciting interaction, hoping that the man would come again to claim his books. 

You were absolutely going to text your best friend about this when you got home. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♥  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

Jason Todd had lost track of time. Maybe it was the warm lighting that made the strain on his eyes decrease, or the soft music soothing his aching head, or the various earth-tone decorations that made him stay longer than he intended. He had only meant to hide for a couple minutes, enough to get Condiment King off his trail and onto Tims. That was until he spotted Pride & Prejudice on a shelf with the exact cover of the one he read in Bruce's library when he was younger. Blaming it on nostalgia, he picked it up, and before long the quaint bookstore became less of a hideout and more of an actual store. 

In all honesty, he could have spent the rest of his patrol in the place if not for an angry text from Tim cursing him out; something about going MIA and getting the mustard and ketchup smell out of his suit. Snapped back into reality, he found himself with a rather large amount of books he definitely couldn’t fit into his motorcycle bag. 

Through little internal debate, he lowered the amount to three books, Pride & Prejudice, 1984, and This Is It, chastising himself as he made his way to the front. It was reckless spending so long hiding when he was supposed to be out on patrol. Hell, his helmet and guns were thrown behind a dumpster in an alleyway down the street! For all he knew, they could be stolen and pawned by some homeless person. 

But there was just something about this store and its ability to make him lose track of time. 

He hurried to the register, glancing at the super-hero themed erasers. He spotted some of his family's personas, grimacing inwardly. Ever since coming back to Gotham, they had been pestering him to join them at the manor outside of vigilante duties. Personally, he would rather be shot ten times before–

“Are you a fan of Austen?” 

He looked up, a little spooked. Did he totally forget that there was another person here, working? Maybe. Scrambling his head for a response proved a daunting task, and that smile you were giving him wasn’t helping. “Uh, yeah. Used to read some of her stuff when I was younger. Thought I’d pick them up again.”

“Ah, I see. Pride and Prejudice is one of my favorites.” You looked through the books, ringing them up on your computer. You seemed almost pleased with his choice in literature. 

“Then I’ll be sure to read it first.” That knowledge, for some reason, makes him happy. From what he remembers, he also enjoyed the tale of Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy when he was younger. 

He put his hands in his jacket pockets, slouching a little more than usual as he studied your clothing and your face. You were young, probably around his age and good looking, working at a bookstore; definitely not anyone dangerous. He knew his height and build tended to intimidate people, and despite its uses when he wore the mask, off-duty he rather disliked it. He didn’t look kind or soft the way you did. Conscious of his build and the darkness outside, he did what he could to hopefully put you at ease. 

You turn back to the register, clicking a few buttons. “That’ll be $14.33.” you look back up at him. “Cash or card?”

“Uh–cash.” Legally, he couldn’t use cards since he was supposed to be six-feet under. He moved his hands around in their pockets, trying to find his wallet. “Sorry, I…” Patting down his pants, he inwardly groans, remembering leaving his wallet in his safehouse of the week before going out for patrol. “I lost my wallet.” 

“Oh.” Yeah, he's a dumbass. “I could…put these on hold for you, if you want?” Your voice is hesitant and he swears on everything he will always check if he has money in his pockets before entering another establishment ever again. 

Running a hand through his hair, a nervous habit he picked up on, he waves you off. “I wouldn’t want to be a bother. It's my fault, anyways.” 

“It’s not a bother, it happens to the best of us,” leaning over the counter, you point to a small poster with store hours. You're still talking to him, but he looks at your face, noticing small details he hadn’t before, like the unique slope of your nose, the shade of your lips and how delicately your lashes fall over your eyes. When you stop talking, he averts his gaze at what you pointed to. 

“Open Mon.---Fri. 10 A.M. to 8 P.M., Sat.---Sun. 12 P.M. to 5 P.M.” He reads it again, trying to remember the day. Damian wasn’t on patrol, so it was a weekday. “Open Mon.---Fri. 10 A.M. to 8 P.M.” He rereads it once more in confusion. Given the darkness outside, there's no way it wasn’t past eight already. 

“...You close at eight?” he hesitantly asks. 

“Yes sir, every day except for Sundays.” If you were closer, he probably would have teased you about the customer service voice. He checks his watch. His whole body freezes as he reads the time. 

8:34

His head whips to you in confusion. “You're closed right now?”

“Technically speaking, yes.” You seem almost bashful as you answer.

Instant mortification fills his body, and he could hit himself for what he’s done. Not only did he unintentionally skimp out on patrol with Tim in a bookstore, potentially scaring the innocent and hot worker, but he wasted that workers time by wandering around for thirty fucking minutes past closing.  He starts to leave, apologizing to you, and despite your assurances, he can’t bring himself to face you knowing he’s kept you working later than you should. He's halfway out the door when he hears you laugh, and he momentarily pauses, turning halfway to face you. 

You’re smiling.

“Trust me, it’s completely fine. I’ll keep these,” you lift up a book, waving it at him, “behind the counter. Good luck finding your wallet!” 

His throat seems to close up, and whether it's from embarrassment or that smile, he can’t tell. Nodding, he quickly leaves the store, walking in long strides back to his gear. Guilt, shame, and confusion all pile up inside him as he puts on his thigh straps, holstering the guns he put a little more care into hiding. Zipping down his leather jacket, he puts his helmet on, which immediately reconnects to his line with Red Robin. He's met with instant accusations and threats. 

“Wait for me down Fourth and Main, I’ll be there at nine.” He murmurs quickly, grappling to the top of the nearest building before disconnecting from the line. He perches over the edge, watching the lights in the bookstore shut off before you run out, closing and locking the door.

He takes extra care to keep himself hidden from your sight, ducking behind various rooftop structures and grappling to different buildings, silently protecting your late walk home. It’s only when you’ve entered your building and he sees a corner apartment window light up that he leaves. 

He’ll return to that bookstore tomorrow.

[ilylmwwifys]

OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING FOR NAGUMO ON VALENTINES DAY PLEASE WRITE MOREEEE!!!! Like if you don't mind the request.. I was thinking like in the future... like the aftermath of the whole fake girlfriend thing and nagumo and Y/n a retired assassin meet again at sakamotos store! :DDD she could be like Hana's teacher or smth idk trying to live a normal life lol

—𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏: 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔

⏳,, angst & fluff , one-shot , slight suggestive

. 🕰 You thought you left that world behind—cold missions, whispered secrets, and a certain infuriating assassin, but fate had other plans.

previous - next

After Sakamoto retired to focus on his life, you soon followed suit, especially after hearing that your dear friend was going to be a father. You had left the world of assassins behind, choosing to live a quiet, normal life as Hana’s teacher.

To be honest, becoming a teacher had never been in your plans. But you had your reasons.

First, you wanted to protect Hana. If anyone ever placed a bounty on Sakamoto’s head, his daughter could be caught in the crossfire. Second, kids were just too damn adorable.

This was what you called paradise, surrounded by cheerful children, including Hana, whose laughter brightened even your darkest days.

Shrugging, you picked out your outfit for the day, settling on something casual. Today, you were going to spend time with Hana, maybe tutor her a little.

Maybe I should get her a toy… you mused. It wasn’t a special occasion, but you simply enjoyed spoiling her. You made sure, of course, that your favoritism didn’t become too obvious in class.

With your bag packed, you headed out, making your way to Sakamoto’s convenience store.

Humming softly, you watched the town come to life around you. Children ran past, laughing as they played. A man stepped out of a shop, adjusting the bag in his arms. In the distance, a couple sat at a restaurant, talking in hushed voices, hands brushing over the table.

The sight tugged at something in your memory.

A mission.

A night.

Yoichi Nagumo.

"I’m sorry, sir and ma’am, but we can’t let you enter unless you’re a couple," the staff member said, their tone firm yet apologetic.

You clenched your jaw, irritation prickling at your skin.

"I already told you—we are a couple." Your grip on Nagumo’s hand tightened, a subtle warning. Nagumo, ever the observer, noticed your irritation but simply smiled at the staff, letting you do the talking.

The two of you stood in the lobby of an exclusive couples-only nightclub. The entire concept was ridiculous, but unfortunately, your target—one of the club's founders—frequented this place. The original plan had been simple, pretend to be a couple to gain access. But neither of you had anticipated just how strict the entry requirements would be.

You had no intention of holding hands, and you were sure Nagumo didn't either—at least, that was until the staff eyed the both of you suspiciously. Without hesitation, Nagumo had laced his fingers through yours, his grip firm, silent reassurance hidden beneath his usual amusement.

You had been caught off guard, embarrassed, even. You had tried pulling away, only for him to squeeze tighter, his message clear: Play along. It’s for the mission.

And so, there you stood, hands entwined, shoulders brushing as you faced the skeptical staff. "If you have proof that you’re a couple, then you may go in," the staff said.

A nerve twitched in your temple. Proof? Proof of what? That you were together? That you were in love?

"Such as?" you asked, voice clipped. "Well, for instance…" The staff hesitated, struggling for an example. You exhaled sharply, patience thinning. You were about to speak when suddenly-

Nagumo tugged you closer.

You barely had time to process the movement before his face was mere inches from yours. His breath ghosted over your lips, dark eyes staring into yours with something unreadable.

Your nose brushed against his, and then—Soft. Warm.

Nagumo kissed you.

Your world stilled.

Your mind scrambled for logic, reason, anything, but all you could register was the heat of his lips, the way his fingers tightened around yours, how effortlessly he melted into the role.

When he pulled away, he turned to the staff with his signature closed-eye smile. "Like this?" His voice was smooth, nonchalant, as if he hadn’t just stolen something from you.

Your first kiss.

You stood frozen, your heart hammering against your ribs. Your cheeks burned, the heat unbearable.

The staff gawked, clearly not expecting that as proof. Nagumo chuckled at their stunned silence. "What? Do you want us to fuc—"

"NAGUMO!" You shouted his name, mortified, and immediately bowed to the staff.

"I’m sorry for his behavior," you said through gritted teeth.

The staff, still flustered, waved their hands. "I-It’s fine… Sorry for doubting you both. You may go in. "You shot Nagumo a glare as you yanked your hand from his grip the moment you were out of the staff’s sight.

"You stole my first kiss."

"Stole?" he echoed, his smirk widening. "I was meant to be your first kiss."

That night, you felt something shift. Your heart betrayed you, drawn to his warmth.

And yet, that was also the night you vanished from his life.

Completely.

You shook off the memory, stomach twisting at the thought.

You had buried that part of your life—him— long ago. Yet, even now, your chest tightened at the mere memories. Sighing, you quickened your pace, spotting the convenience store up ahead.

Sakamoto had recently hired a new employee, a girl. You had been curious about her and decided today was the perfect chance to surprise both her and Sakamoto.

Aoi had texted earlier, saying she’d be out with Hana, which meant more free time for you. You stepped toward the entrance, completely unaware of what awaited you inside.

The automatic doors slid open.

You froze.

Sakamoto stood behind the counter, as usual, but beside him sat a girl munching on pizza, completely unfazed. Shin, his blond hair disheveled, looked utterly bewildered.

But the real shock?

A man, tall and lean, dressed in a red-patterned polo, was choking a pizza delivery guy with just his arm, his grip like iron. The delivery guy wheezed, struggling.

"See? Just like I told you," the black-haired man said, smiling as if he weren’t seconds away from snapping the poor guy’s neck.

"I don’t like lies." His voice was light, playful even, but laced with unmistakable menace as he gave the blonde one of his infamous closed-eye smile.

Shin tensed, raising his guard as the man’s grip tightened. "Nagumo, wait." Sakamoto’s voice was calm but firm while an unfinished pizza laid on his hands.

At his words, Nagumo immediately let go, letting the delivery guy collapse to the ground without so much as a glance.

He turned to Sakamoto. "Don’t tell me you’re going to try to get through this without killing—"

"Chi…?"

The name left your lips before you could stop it.

Nagumo’s entire body stiffened. His head snapped toward you, eyes widening.

For the first time in years, you locked eyes with him.

And in the next heartbeat-

Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a crushing embrace. You didn’t know what was happening. Heck, even Nagumo didn’t know why he was acting like this.

The only thing he knew was that his soul ached for you, craved you, missed you.

Every part of him did.

His grip on your clothes tightened, his body pressing closer as if afraid you’d slip through his fingers again. You had once again appeared in his life. This time, he wouldn’t waste the opportunity.

The same day the mission was completed, you had vanished without a word.

And that was the day he had been waiting for, the day he was finally ready to take you seriously.

But he had lost his chance.

And now, fate had handed him another one.

This time, he wasn’t letting you go.

"Huh—" You barely got the sound out before he held you even tighter, silently telling you not to say anything.

"I missed you," he murmured, voice low, raw.

A lump formed in your throat. You weren’t sure what shocked you more—his words or the way your heart clenched at them.

Your breath hitched, hands hovering in the air, unsure of whether to push him away or pull him closer.

He was warm.

Too warm.

And it scared you.

You had spent years convincing yourself that what happened that night meant nothing, that Nagumo was nothing but a fleeting part of your past. But here he was, holding you as if you were something precious, as if you belonged in his arms.

And the worst part?

A part of you wanted to stay there.

"Nagumo," you finally muttered, your voice unsteady.

At the sound of his name, he exhaled sharply against your neck, his grip on you tightening for just a moment before he finally pulled away, but not too far.

His hands remained firm on your waist, his dark eyes scanning your face as if committing every detail to memory. There was something unreadable in his gaze—something raw, something unspoken. You swallowed hard.

"You’re acting like I was the one who disappeared," you forced a scoff, trying to ease the tension, but your voice betrayed you, quieter than you intended.

Nagumo didn’t smile.

For the first time in a long time, the usual teasing glint in his eyes was gone, replaced by something real.

"You were," he murmured.

Your heart lurched. Before you could say anything, Shin’s voice cut through the moment.

"Wait, what the hell is going on here?!"

You flinched, suddenly aware of your surroundings again. Shin looked absolutely dumbfounded, glancing between you and Nagumo like he had just witnessed something illegal. The girl beside Sakamoto continued eating her pizza, watching the scene unfold like it was a drama playing out in real-time, but she too was confused. Sakamoto, who knew everything simply let out a small sigh.

Nagumo finally smirked, his usual playfulness returning as he turned to Shin. "What? Didn’t I tell you? She’s my little runaway."

Your brows furrowed. "I am not your—"

"And now that I’ve found her again," he interrupted, shooting you a knowing look, "I’m never letting her go."

Your stomach twisted.

The weight of his words settled in your chest, a dangerous promise laced with something even heavier—something terrifying.

Because for all your years of running, all your years of trying to forget… You knew.

Nagumo never made empty promises.

. [📜] This is my first time writing a request so I apologize if I wrote something not to your liking. I wanted to integrate some angst to it... But anyway, I'm glad you liked my nagumo fic! :) p.s the header I used from the start is what I imagine you and nagumo's date will be. (Sorry if I published this late since my tumblr has been acting up and it's annoying)

ˏ 「🗝」 Mission: Heartstrings = Missions are usually about strategy and precision, but this one? It’s about emotions—specifically, the unbreakable bond between the you and Yoichi.

The "Heartstrings" part adds a soft, romantic touch, showing that despite all the danger and the years apart, their hearts are still connected. It’s like saying, "Oops, this mission wasn’t just about work… feelings got involved!" It perfectly captures how Nagumo and the reader are tied together, whether they like it or not

Reblogs are highly appreciated, commenting is encourage as I always read comments, they motivate me. Please do not repost on other platforms or translate into other languages without my permission. The idea is mine and purely original, do not steal. Any similarities are purely coincidental unless stated otherwise

[sunshineandspencer]

Friendly face

A/N: Aaron Hotchner, thank you for being there when our fathers weren’t 🙏🙏

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Receptionist!Reader.

Summary: The higher ups decided that the BAU needed their own reception area so that visitors and the agents had their own friendly face whenever they come back from a case. Hotch already has a soft spot for her.

Word Count: 741

Warnings: just a little fluff for my first Hotch fic, because receptionist!reader and Hotch makes me feral

Part 2!!

When they first told her that she’d be moved from the normal reception to a special one being made for her up in the BAU, she thought that she’d been sent a spam email. Laughing it off and getting back to her baking.

Until her boss escorted her up to her new desk the next morning.

Thankfully, all her belongings had been boxed up by other staff, and had already been moved up in boxes for her to unpack. 

Her days were long, and she was routinely one of the first people in the building, which meant she had more than enough time to sort through her boxes before any of the actual team turned up for the first time.

Apparently they’d had a few issues with people getting in that weren’t the most savoury of characters. So she was moved up as an extra layer of protection before the public were allowed into the bullpen. But being on the same floor as profilers wasn’t going to stop her from decorating as she always had.

Besides, she didn’t have to share this desk with anyone, so she got the entire space to decorate herself.

Putting her box of biscuits, made and decorated the night before, on the top of the desk, she got to work. Getting into her own little world as she sorted out the boring bits first. Putting away important files she always needed to have on hand, and setting up the monitor to make sure all the information worked to let people in.

Eventually, thankfully, she got to the more fun aspects of her unpacking.

A lilac notebook, a collection of glittery pens (that, sadly, still had to be black ink), a sweet bowl since she knows how many agents have kids, and a plush lilac blanket over the back of her chair. She runs cold, and will have that over her lap if she starts to freeze.

Just as she started to unload her pretty, pastel post-it notes, there was a voice from beyond the desk.

“Are these for us?”

She shot up, hand going to her chest, thankfully also somewhat startling the man in front of her desk. At least she recognised him, SSA Aaron Hotchner, she’d been the one to sign him in most days when she worked downstairs.

Giving him a small smile as she leant over to pop the lid, the smell of shortbread biscuits immediately hitting the area and making them both hungry.

“Of course, sir, and since you’re the first here, you can have two.”

Her original shock lessened as she smiled up at the man, who did immediately take two biscuits for himself. He’d never say no to her baking again - it had made her upset and she hadn’t spoken to him for three days.

“You don’t need to call me sir, not now we work together. It’s good to have you on the floor.”

“It’s good to be here.” Smiling nervously as she shifted into her chair, the clock telling her that more people were going to start coming in soon. “I can only deal with Maria’s constant bad date stories before I go mad.”

There was that small smile on his face, one she’d seen very few times, but still made her all warm and gooey whenever she did. Brushing her hair back behind her ear and glancing away to boot up the monitor for the morning.

Looking back at him one last time, just to catch him sneaking a sweet from the pot, not even stopping when she caught him. Shoving it into his pocket and stepping away a little.

“I’ll stop by later on, make sure you’re settled.”

He nodded, as if he’d do that for anyone else, and she smiled. God. He could drown in her smile.

But as he went to walk off, she waved a hand for his attention, neither of them noticing Spencer coming through the elevator doors, freezing at seeing the interaction between them. Not sure what to make of the smile on his Unit Chief's face.

“I’ll save a biscuit, so you can take one home to Jack. I’ll sign you in, go on, you workaholic.”

Accepting and returning his little wave until she turned back to her desk with a stupidly daft smile on her face. Which she didn’t even try to dampen when she spotted Spencer, beckoning him forward.

“Morning Doctor, have a biscuit, I’ll sign you in.”

Want more?! Good!

[raven-dor]

i can't help but love you

in which pietro maximoff falls for his coworker...

PAIRING: pietro maximoff x fem!reader, tony stark x daughter!reader

WARNINGS: arguing, oblivious nature, more arguing, tension, angst, avoiding, jealousy, fluff ending!!

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : war of hearts - ruelle

AN: ♥️💗 - i guess there's no civil war au with this? like everyone lives in the tower and nothing bad ever happened - yippee right?! anyways, enjoy!!

“Maximoff!” 

Y/N Stark’s voice rang clear through the 59th floor of the Avengers Tower, and Wanda laughed as she stalked into the living room. “What has he done now?” 

“Your brother-” The girl was practically fuming. “Has destroyed my project.” 

“Lies.” The speedster stood near the glass doors that led to the landing pad. “She is lying.” 

“Don't.” Y/N hissed, approaching the speedster with murderous intent. “You know what you did.” 

“Please enlighten me as to what I have done.”

“I swear to god, Pietro.” Her voice was ragged, and Wanda frowned. Her friend’s normally witty disposition was nowhere to be seen. “I stayed up all night working on that- it had just started working, and you- you-” 

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice cut through the tension the pair had so expertly built. They refused to face the Captain, opting to glare at each other menacingly. “Either of you care to explain?” 

Neither moved, as if they were in one of those gun fights in those westerns Clint loved so much. Wanda sighed, giving up on her peace and quiet. “Pietro destroyed Y/N’s project.” 

“I stayed up all night working on it.” Y/N whined, still glaring at Pietro. 

Steve sighed, placing his hands on his hips. Y/N would have teased him for acting like her father in any other circumstance. “Pietro, you can’t keep doing this.” 

“It is not my fault little Stark gets so angry. It was just a little fun.”

“Just a little fun, huh?” Pietro nodded, smirking. “I’m going to-” Y/N’s hand was itching to punch the Sokovian in the stomach.

“I think you need to take a break.” Steve intervened, eyeing her clenched hand with fear. “I’ll deal with him, don’t worry.” 

“He-” She squeezed her eyes shut before nodding sharply. “Fine.” 

Steve waited until she was out of view to address the speedster. “Maximoff.” 

He was still smirking. “Yes, Captain?” 

“The whole ‘bullying the girl because you like her’ routine is getting old. There are easier ways to get her attention.” 

Wanda laughed as her brother’s cheeks grew bright red. “What?” 

“She’ll never forgive you if you keep messing with her projects. They’re important to her, and-” He huffed, placing a hand on Pietro’s shoulder. “Just go easy on her, okay? You know how hard she’s been working.” 

Pietro nodded, cheeks still bright. “Yes, sir.” 

Normally, mission debriefs went smoother.

Keyword, normally. 

Wanda had always noticed this, the tension between the two, but after this particular meeting, it became clear to everyone. She reminded herself to start a betting pool after Steve finished the debrief.

“You can’t be serious, Cap.” 

“I am serious.” Steve sighed. “It makes the most sense. With your expertise and his-”

“Steve…” It seemed Y/N was not below begging. “Anyone but him, please.” 

“That desperate to escape me, Princessa?” Pietro wiggled his eyebrows. “You know you-” 

“Don’t.” She raised her hand, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” 

Tony watched with mild fascination, leaning back in his chair. Natasha leaned over, whispering in his ear. “What’s going on with those two?” 

“I’ll die out there.” Y/N cried. “He doesn’t care about watching my back.” 

“Hold on-” Pietro looked mildly offended. 

“I don’t know what exactly happened between the two of you, but Pietro would never leave you to die.” Steve looked stern. “You know that.” 

Pietro nodded, not that that reassured her in the slightest.

“Fine.” She huffed. “Whatever, just continue, I guess.” 

Steve smiled, looking back at the screen. “Thank you. As I was saying-” 

The rest of the team hadn’t missed the way Pietro stared at Y/N, eyes wide like a kicked puppy’s. And Tony hadn’t missed the way his daughter’s eyes lit up when she ‘glared’ at the Sokovian.

“ETA?”

“Five minutes, tops.” Y/N unplugged the hard drive, stuffing it in her pocket. “Just got the drive.” 

Pietro looked nervously out the door. “Hurry, Princessa.” 

“Stop calling me that.”

“Princessa?” He raised an eyebrow. “Are you not-” 

“Just stop, alright?” 

Pietro nodded. “Fine. Are you finished?” 

She shook the drive that laid in her palm. “I’ve been finished. Thought you were supposed to be up to speed, Quicksilver.” Walking past him and toward the doorway, she almost gasped when his hand wrapped around her wrist, pulling her back. “What the hell is your prob-” 

“Do you trust me?” 

She’d been caught off guard by that question, replying before she could even truly think about her answer. “Of course.” 

“What’s taking so long, you two?” Her father’s voice rang over the comms. “Can’t keep the Quinjet here forever.” 

She peeled her eyes away from Pietro’s, staring at the doorway. “Relax, old man.”

Pietro put his hand around her neck, pulling her flush against him. Her cheeks flushed. “What are you doing?”

“Just-” He looked down, smiling lightly. “You said you trust me.” 

She nodded slowly. “Do we need to get your hearing checked?” 

“Don't let go.” 

“Okay.” She tried to ignore the way her stomach flipped when he looked at her. 

The New York skyline was so beautiful in the middle of the night. Her legs dangled over the edge of the balcony as she stared out at the people below. 

“What are you doing awake?” 

She jumped, clutching her chest. “Jesus, Maximoff.” She shook her head. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere like that.”

He laughed. “Did I startle you?” 

“No.” She deadpanned. “That’s why I jumped.” 

“Perhaps you should not sit by the edge then.” 

She rolled her eyes, slapping his arm half-heartedly. “What’s got you up?” 

“I asked you first,” Pietro responded. “Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” She sighed. “Just- can’t sleep, that’s all.” 

“Ah.” A beat of silence fell over them before he spoke again. “When we were younger, and I couldn’t sleep, my mother used to make me a special tea.” He stared at the traffic below, a nostalgic melancholy look on his face. “Wanda makes it for me now.”

“Do you miss your mother?” She whispered. 

“Everyday.” Pietro smiled. “And my father.” 

Y/N nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.” His mouth went dry, she was staring at him so intensely. “I will make you a cup.” 

“You don’t need to do that, Pietro. Really.”

“It is no trouble.” He stood up, extending his hand. “Come inside.” 

“I’m fine out here.” 

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Because you are shivering.” 

She laughed, taking his hand as he guided her to warmth. “Why are you doing this?”

He tilted his head, releasing his hold on her to fill the kettle. “Doing what, Princessa?” 

“You’re-” She smiled. “You’re being nice.” 

“I do not enjoy upsetting you.” 

She huffed, sitting on the island as Pietro grabbed two mugs. “Could have fooled me.” 

“We are not so different, you and I.” He leaned against the counter across from her, and her eyes fell on his arms, stretching the fabric of his sleeves so beautifully. “I forget what made us this way.” 

“I don’t remember either,” Y/N whispered back. “I just remember you trying to stop my dad from completing Vision.” 

“In my defense-” Pietro laughed. “I thought-” 

“Yes.” She nodded. “I know.” They sat in a comfortable silence, staring at each other. When the kettle hissed, breaking their peace, Pietro turned around, pouring them each a cup. There was something so domestic about this moment, about him helping her fall asleep. If anyone had walked in the kitchen right then and there, she would have denied that any camaraderie had occurred.

She wondered if he would do the same.

He turned back around, and she straightened her posture, all of a sudden insecure about how she looked. He blew carefully, cooling down the tea so she could drink it. “For you.” 

She smiled, taking it gratefully. “Thank you.” He nodded, watching as she took her first sip. Her eyes widened, honestly surprised at the taste. “It’s delicious.” 

He grinned, cheeks growing red. “You are just saying that.” 

“No, really!” She insisted, taking another sip. “It’s delightful, honestly.” 

“I am glad you enjoy it.” His voice was quiet, deep as they realized how closely they were. His head was hung, mere inches away from hers. “Princessa-” 

“I-” She interrupted. “I should go. To bed. I should go to bed.” Setting the mug down, she jumped down from the counter. “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” He nodded. “Anytime.” 

Steve was fuming, which, if you knew the Captain, was extremely rare. The quinjet was silent as their leader pointed out their mistakes, their missed chances. “This was a perfect mission, you two. What happened?”

Y/N sat on the bench, staring at her hands. “We almost-” 

“No excuses.” Steve raised his hand, waiting for an answer. “What happened?” 

“It was my fault, Captain.” 

Steve faltered, looking over at the girl for confirmation. “Is that true?” 

“What are you doing?” She whispered to Pietro. 

The speedster ignored her. “She was hurt.” 

“It was a scratch.” Y/N insisted. “I told him we could keep going.” 

“It was not a scratch.” Pietro hissed. “They shot you.”

“Stop,” Y/N whispered. 

“What?” 

She stared at him, desperate to figure him out. “Stop acting like you care. You wanted to play the hero, and you ruined the mission.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“You heard me.” Y/N’s eyes hardened, ignoring the looks their teammates gave them. “Do you deny it?” 

He nodded. “You are wrong.” 

“Doesn’t seem like I am. You’ve been in this situation before - when Clint got grazed two weeks ago, you kept going.” 

“That was different-” 

“Or when Nat was trapped back into a corner. She told you to go on without her. No hesitation.” 

“Princessa-” 

“When Wanda sprained her ankle, and she told you she could keep going, you listened. What’s so different?” She interrogated. “That you had to ruin everything?”

Pietro looked hurt, angry, and hurt. “I think you know why.” 

“I don’t, actually.”

“Then we have nothing more to talk about.” 

“Fine by me.” She sat back, staring at the wall until they landed. And when they had, she’d been the first one off, stalking toward the training room. 

“He loves you.” 

She scoffed, punching the boxing dummy once more. “How do you know?” 

Tony laughed, crossing his arms. “C’mon, kid. He ruined what should have been a simple mission because you were scratched.” 

“So?” 

“You said it yourself. He didn’t save his sister when she sprained her ankle.” He took a step closer. “He loves you, and you’re scared.” 

“I’m-” Punch. “Not-” Punch. “Scared.” Punch.

“Yeah?” Her father sighed. “You seem scared to me. Classic Stark move, you know. Running from affection.” 

She pushed past him, taking a sip from her water bottle. “You perfected it.” 

“Never said I didn’t.” He shrugged. “Another classic. Deflecting."

"Get to the point."

"Just don’t lose out on this. That kid cares about you, and I’m not going to be around forever-” 

“Dad…” 

“Give him a break.” Tony placed a hand on her shoulder, smiling lightly. “Do it for me, okay?” 

“Fine.”

“And go take a shower.” He laughed. “You stink.” 

They hadn’t talked since the quinjet, since the mission had blown up in flames.

Two weeks had passed since the rest of the Avengers solved the case, since they’d been the only ones left in the tower, since she’d ask Friday if he was in the kitchen, and sneak out of her room when the coast was clear. 

Now, as she sat at the party thrown in honor of the successful mission, she fought the way the hairs on her arms raised as she felt his stare from across the room. 

Instead, she flirted with the bartender. 

Her dress had long flowy sleeves, which was not normally her style, but because of her ‘injury’ she now felt disgusted by the scar. It was off the shoulder and short, short enough to capture someone’s attention. 

“You’re stunning.” The handsome man behind the bar was the perfect distraction. 

Her eyelashes were low, smile mischievous as she responded. “You don’t mean that.” 

“I do.” He nodded. “Plan on being here for long?” 

“That depends.” 

His eyebrow raised. “On what?” 

“When your shift ends.” 

“Y/N.” 

A deep sigh left her, and she quickly smiled at the bartender before spinning in her chair to face him. 

“Maximoff.” 

“Can we talk for a moment?” 

She honestly considered it, ignoring him and going back to the man that eagerly waited behind her. But the look in his eyes and the way her heart twisted under his gaze was enough to convince her. “Quickly.” 

Pietro nodded, following after her. “What is his name?” 

“I don’t think you get to know, since you so rudely interrupted.” She stopped in the hall, the party now a dull roar. “What do you want?” 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“No, I haven’t.”

“Oh?” He frowned. “The computer told me your 'escape' plans.” 

“Friday!” She gasped, looking up. “What the hell?” 

“Mr. Stark made me.” The computer responded, and she silently cursed her father. 

“I've missed you.” 

She raised an eyebrow, forcing herself to act uninterested. “I don’t know why. We’re not friends.” 

“No.” He nodded, his eyes dropping to her lips for a second too long. “We’re not.”

“Well, this has been exactly what I expected.” She clapped her hands. “If you don’t mind, I have to get back to-” 

“He will only hurt you.” He whispered. 

“I don’t care.” She hissed. “He’s a distraction; that’s enough for me.” 

“A distraction?” Pietro looked much too confident. “From what, exactly?”

“From you and your creepy stare.” She lied straight through her teeth. Technically, she wasn't lying. She really was flirting with the bartender to distract herself from the larger issue: her feelings for him. “Following me everywhere. It’s-” Pietro took a step closer, and she choked on her words, swallowing. “You’re-” 

“Yes?” He whispered. “It seems as if you are at a loss for words.” 

“Why can’t we just go back to arguing?” 

“We can argue.” He smiled. “We can do anything you want.” 

“You’ll agree with anything I say, won’t you?” 

Pietro shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” 

“Oh?” He nodded. “Get me a slice from-” A small to-go box laid in her hand before she could even blink. Fighting the smile that threatened to break through her hard exterior, she bit her lip. “I never finished my sentence.”

“Bravo Pizza, Union Square.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “You visit after every mission.”

“You-“ She shook her head, and opened the box, two New York slices inside. “Alright then. I want to sit on the landing pad.”

“Jesus, Pietro.” The New York traffic blared below them, lights flickering like stars in the night sky. She gripped his suit jacket, questioning her stability in these heels. “This is higher than I remember.”

“Princessa.” She hummed, leaning her head against his chest. His finger hooked under her chin, pulling her eyes away from the city. “It is alright.” 

“I didn’t think this through.” 

He laughed, gripping her waist tighter. “You won’t fall, I promise.” 

“Wow.” She whispered. “Even your eyes are silver.” She stared for a moment longer. “They’re captivating.” 

He smiled, pushing a stray hair out of her face. “I am yours to command.” 

“Anything?”

He nodded. “Anything at all.”

“Forgive me.” If he had not been staring at her lips, the wind could have carried her words away.

“Forgive you for what, Princes-” Her lips collided with his, passionately, deeply, pulling him closer, as close as she could. 

His eyes widened before he even registered that she was kissing him, that she was actually kissing him. His hands trailed further up her back, one landing on her waist, and one landing on the side of her face, caressing her cheek. 

“Pietro.” She whispered, pulling away. 

“I was supposed to kiss you.” He laughed, kissing the corner of her mouth gently. “I had a plan.” 

“I suppose…” She smirked, reveling in his touch. “You’ll have to be quicker than that.”

taglist: @milesdrift

[propertyofwicked]

WORK EXPENSE - LN

lando x dj!reader SMAU <3

no one can quite work out if they're together - neither can lando. yn? she's just there for the vibes.

masterlist the playlist

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

beatsbyyn has posted!

liked by martingarrix, landonorris and 15,607 others...

beatsbyyn best night - thank you martingarrix and burnerroom for having me! <3

... more comments

burnerroom come back soon!!

⇾ beatsbyyn ur never getting rid of me now ♡

landonorris photo creds left the chat :(

⇾ beatsbyyn cry about it ♡

⇾ landonorris make me???

⇾ beatsbyyn sir this is a wendys?

⇾ landonorris sir? oh so it's like THAT huh?

martingarrix SO SICKKKK same time next week?

⇾ beatsbyyn ive already started planning our next set!!

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by maxfewtrell, landonorris and 21,031 others...

beatsbyyn to my favourite brother, happy birthday frankie ♡ ̆̈ glad u stopped trying to run me over with your kart

... more comments

frankb im your only brother? but thank you ig?

⇾ beatsbyyn be grateful i said anything at all

⇾ frankb what was that? sorry couldn't hear you over the sound of my successful career and happy relationship

⇾ beatsbyyn didnt ask.

l4uren wait was he in formula renault??

⇾ beatsbyyn yes but now hes just a pain in my ass

⇾ ln4ours wait so her and lando have probably known each other for years??

⇾ l4uren he competed with max f in 2016 so maybe?

⇾ ln4ours the djing crossover now makes perfect sense lmao

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by landonorris, martingarrix and 45,217 others...

beatsbyyn personal assistant, professional dj and part time nurse - amsterdam, you were messy - same time next year??

tagged: landonorris and martingarrix

... more comments

landonorris delete this 🙏

⇾ beatsbyyn no 🙏

⇾ mclaren beatsbyyn never delete this

⇾ beatsbyyn anything for you admin ♥︎

lnwag bro what did h- hOW??

⇾ beatsbyyn he's a 24 year old man who can't hold a glass without smashing it

⇾ landonorris which is completely normal, im sure

⇾ beatsbyyn it's not.

⇾ maxfewtrell it's not.

⇾ georgerussell63 it's not.

-> beatsbyyn yo georgerussell63??? tell carmen i miss her

lilymhe can you be my nurse?

-> beatsbyyn i heard kissing is the best medicine

-> lilymhe cant hurt to try

-> alex_albon hello?

-> beatsbyyn lilymhe never let your boyfriend get in the way of finding your future wife

martingarrix the door was unlocked? why did you climb through the window?

-> beatsbyyn skill issue 😎

beatsbyyn has posted

liked by landonorris, mclaren and 22,745 others...

beatsbyyn he said "i can dj, but can you drive" - im expecting a call from zak brown any moment now.

tagged landonorris

... more comments

landonorris never getting in a car with you ever again.

⇾ beatsbyyn i did great wdym??

⇾ landonorris you spun off the track and said "oopsies" ?!?!?!

⇾ ln4ours she's so me fr

mclaren zak said he's sending the paperwork over now

⇾ beatsbyyn good thing i look great in papaya

⇾ landonorris is this how i find out ive been fired?

⇾ mclaren yeah so about that....

⇾ landonorris admin?? say jk rn

lnwag are they...together? im so confused

⇾ alex_albon me too.

⇾ georgerussell63 me too.

⇾ oscarpiastri me too.

⇾ landonorris me too.

⇾ beatsbyyn me too.

maxfewtrell did he not learn from the last time we went karting?

⇾ beatsbyyn in my defence - i was leading and he pushed past me??

⇾ maxverstappen1 so you pushed him back and then he pushed you off the track?

⇾ beatsbyyn it's not fair :(

[tales-of-a-seahorse]

I needed a few days to put all my thoughts together on this, so forgive the delay.

At my 24 week scan, my amniotic fluid was a little low. My OB asks me to come back in a week for a follow up because they can measure amniotic fluid differently starting at 25 weeks. At the 25 week appointment, my amniotic fluid is measuring in the low-normal range. It's borderline. The problem with having low amniotic fluid is it can cause fetal growth restriction and given my history that is a concern. So, my OB referred me to Maternal Fetal Medicine.

I have some not so great experience with MFM from my last pregnancy. I was misgendered by multiple ultrasound techs and often made to feel out of place. So, I was kind of stressed about having to go there again. But my OB had her nurses try to coordinate with them so to try to avoid any unpleasant interactions this time around. Unfortunately that wasn't enough. I missed the call from the MFM scheduler because I was in a work meeting. When I called back, I got a different person. I said to them: "I'm returning a call from [scheduler]. My OB referred me to MFM for a consult regarding my low amniotic fluid and I'm hoping to speak with them to get that taken care of." There was a long pause before the person responded with: "Sir, you're calling Fetal Imaging..."

"Okay. Maybe I pushed the wrong options in the phone tree? This was the number I was given in the voicemail left by [scheduler]. Can you transfer me to them?" Before she would transfer me, I needed to reexplain why I was calling- I'm pregnant, I have low amniotic fluid, my OB referred me to MFM because of this, and I needed to schedule an appointment. I then had to out myself when she apologized for calling me sir. She looked up my information and eventually agreed to transfer me. The scheduler was much nicer. She got me scheduled for an appointment the next day.

Thankfully, at my appointment the next day, the ultrasound tech was nice and respectful. The MFM doctor didn't seem to have a problem with my gender. She had other problems with some things my OB has told me were okay, but that is neither here nor there. All I'm really concerned about is that she says my amniotic fluid is on the low end, but she thinks it's okay.

These are the two sides of being a trans man and seeking "women's health care". I'm either perceived as a stupid and/or creepy man calling a "women's health" office or I'm misgendered and forced to out myself. Either way, it is unsafe for trans men to seek care, not just for ourselves but for our families as well.

[dead-flight]

⌖ and the wind still blows. / drabble

⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . dead-flight .ᐟ masterlist

He stands there, opposite you. His fingers twisted together in his lap, his eyes stricken. It wasn't nearly grief. An almost-there, a stuck in a chasm between 'it's gonna be okay' and 'i'm sorry'. Neither come out. He manages a half-smile, offers a hand. You take his. What could you do, really? "Captain," you manage, and you think your voice might fall from the fragile seams it already hangs from.

"Ms. Riley, I'm sure you've heard the news," he murmurs, the man tilting his head to meet your eyes. "Ah..," he pulls metal from his pocket. It's slightly bent, warped around the edge, but the name is unmistakable.

SIMON RILEY, LT. GHOST.

You choke on the cry that crawls up your esophagus. "How?" you manage, stealing the metal from his warm hands, twisting it between your fingers like you used to, every night in Simon's arms. He used to be warm too. Used to hang his dog tag around his neck--you just loved to play with it.

"Explosion, ma'am. Unavoidable… his body…" the captain takes a breath, "His body is no longer here."

No longer here. Those words nearly sent you to your own grave, at the steps up to the house. No longer here. Gone.

"Do you want me to stay for a moment?" he offers, and you shake your head.

"No, sir. I'll be just fine. Thank you for telling me," you say. The words feel foreign to your tongue. Like the concept of language was too hard for your brain to muster. Not now. Not when the concrete steps seemed to fuse you in, or how the chill of the autumn breeze stung at your cheeks, whipping your hair about.

The Captain nods. He leaves. He leaves. You're alone, alone again. You step back into the house, like it was normal. Like you'd just recieved mail. You make your way up the carpeted stairs, sock-clad feet stopping at the door to the sleeping infant's room.

For once, the baby doesn't cry. Instead, there's deafening silence.

[angelfrombeneth]

MAGICAL DRYING DISASTER - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: After waking up late and discovering you left your washing in the machine over night. You had no other choice to use magic to dry it - except it did dry but also shrunk, massively, in the process. Once Theo finds you let's just say he manages to keep it kept in till the common room. Then it's all fair game from there.

Warnings: SMUT, No Protection - PIV, Theodore is a munch - Fem Oral, Body Worship, Smidge of SubWhiney!Theo, Cursing

A/N: This is my first one-shot fic I've posted in a long time but also my first one EVER on tumblr. I used to write on wattpad and ao3 but took a very long hiatus. So excuse if my smut writing is a bit off or any spelling mistakes I currently have acrylics on - its quite hard to type.

Click Clack.. Click Clack...

You ran towards your class quickly, pulling town the absolute belt of a skirt you wore today before entering into your potions class. Late.

"Miss Neveah.. Thank you for finally joining us" Snape panned. His face expressionless as he stared at you. A slight hint of disapproval in his face.

"I'm sorry sir, it won't happen again!" You scurried to your seat beside Pansy.

"It most definitely will not" He groaned before turning back to the chalk board to continue his explanation.

You shimmied on your seat, pulling as much skirt down as you could. Practically flashing those behind you of your bright red thong and gorgeously placed star tramp stamp.

Nice touch is what you thought when you got it a few months ago after a night out in the muggle clubs with Pansy. She persuaded you and said Theo would love it. Or which he did.

"Y/N.. your skirt is practically a belt. Trying to flash us all?" She whispered, giggling as he peered down as your legs, absent of any tights aswell.

"Girl.. It shrunk when I tried to use magic to dry it. All my other skirts are dirty" You pouted. "I also couldn't find a pair of fucking tights, I was running so late"

"Its not that bad, just don't bend over if you can" She smiled as she reached to your ponytail tieing in a little green piece of ribbon into a bow. "And don't let Mr Lover boy see you" She snickered.

You sighed, focusing in the rest of your class. Praying not many people noticed. You were pretty daft thinking that. You were already the hot goss. It was only so long till Theo found out.

Though alot of boys in Hogwarts fancied you, they all knew about Theodore Nott swooping in, in 4th year the year before you 'blossomed' as they said. They say he saw the potential and snatched it up while they could.

You walked down the hall, pulling your books to your chest as your red bottoms clipped the wooden floor that spanned the whole school. Many turned your way gawking as you, mostly more than normal due to tour skirt size today.

You weren't a bad girl. You has good grades, you were overly nice to everyone just the people you hung round with were opposite. Many saying you were too nice.

After a quick detour to pick up an extra book from the library you shuffled down the corridor, your heels clicking their signature click against the oak as you walked towards your friends who stood beside your regular post class meeting pillar.

"Sorry I'm late!" You skipped towards them hurriedly. You watched as Theo whipped his head around, his jaw practically dislodging from his face as he stared at you.

Mattheo wolf whistled as he looked you up and down. Smirking as he pushed himself off the wall - "Damn Y/N, I didn't know you had this hiding somewhere"

"Neither did I" Theo's gaze burned through you as he bent his neck to get look at you from behind. Definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"I'm sorry- I fucked up a spell and I was running late I didn't mean to- OUCH! THEO!" you got cut off as he slapped his hand harshly against your ass before gripping a handful as he smirked down at you. The boys laughing at the pair of you.

"As much as I am thoroughly enjoying the sight Bella" He looked down at you, his gaze growing darker by each word that fell from his lips. He leaned in, practically growling in your ear."I don't like to share amore mio"

You gulped at his words as he pulled his jumper off, wrapping it around your waist. Slightly tugging on the fabric jerking you forward into his chest as he smiled down at you before kissing your forehead softly.

"As cute as you two are, everyone's looking. Can we clear out" Pansy groaned.

You snapped back into reality, quietly ushering an apology to the group as Pansy pulled your hand as you both walked hand in hand ahead of the boys.

You heard a smack and an 'ow' turning around quickly as you turned the corner seeing Theo slapping Mattheo across the head. "Flirt with someone else" He groaned. You giggled slightly at his protectiveness.

Once you arrived to the common room everyone scattered to do their own thing. Theo once more approaching you.

"Now..." a cheeky smile appeared on his lips as his hands held your hips softly as he peered down at you. The height difference really getting to you. "I can't stop thinking about that little skirt on you.." His hands slowly moving down and around to the curve of your ass as he nibbled at his lip. "..and how much I want to fuck you in it" He whispered the last part lowly as his tongue poked out and slid across his bottom lip as he squeezed your ass through his jumper.

"Then do it" You caught his gaze, already out of breath from his minimal touch.

It's like that's all he needed to hear. Like without warning and no regards for the fact your friends were just a few steps away bundled in the corner on the coaches - he pulled you tightly, hand on your ass against him as his lips crushed into yours. Needy kisses as if he hasn't kissed you in months.

The sudden rip of his jumper loosening the knot as it dropped to the floor. His hands sliding under the little fabric the skirt had as his nails gripped into the flesh on your ass cheeks. You yelped slightly and he took that as permission to shove his whole tongue down your throat. The kisses grew messier and messier as you both backed up towards the stairs, bumping into everything possible as you both chuckled.

Breaking the kiss as you both removed various pieces of clothing as you scrambled up the stairs. By the time you got to yours and Pansys' room you both had disregarded of practically everything. Theo quickly finishing unzipping his trousers before pushing you into the room, kicking the leg off quickly, flinging his trousers into the centre of the hallway as he shut the door behind him.

You stood infront of him in just your skirt, bra and panties as he ruffled his hair, staring at you like a kid in a candy shop, pondering what you try next.

"DONT WORRY WE'LL CLEAN UP AFTER YOU TWO!" Draco yelled, annoyance plastered in his voice.

That broke Theo out of the trance he was in as he lunged at you, unclipping your bra swiftly as he threw it across the room before pushing you against the bed.

"Fuck, I'm so hard. I can't- I just need to fuck you now" He groaned, biting at his lip anxiously as he stared down at you. "Get on all fours". You obliged and quickly.

You felt the sudden cold breeze against your clit as he tightly yanked on your thong, splitting it apart at he threw it on the floor aswell as he kicked off his boxers.

"Fuck your so hot" He groaned, dropping to his knees as he gripped your ass, spreading your cheeks wide as he licked a nice wet strip up your pussy.

A moan lodged itself in your neck as you bundled up the sheets in your hands as he let out a shaky breath.

"Wanna eat you out so bad, but my cock is throbbing.. Need to treat you well tho" He whined as he spat into his hand as he began to fuck it. His free hand gripping your ass as he dove his tounge deep into you.

You hung your head forward as you let out an exasperated sigh as your toes curled. Theo's tongue worked wonders inside of you. He ate you out like it was dire need. The roughness of his mouth sopping against your pussy as his tongue drilled into your hole. The wetness of both his mouth and your pussy mixing as he moaned against you as he continued to fuck the shit out of his hand. Loud moans rumbled against you as he sucked and twirled like no tomorrow.

You were drawing to your high as you noticed he stopped, pulling away for a moment as he let out a deep growl before a light whimper escaped his lips as he came up the bottom of your bed frame and on the floor. He panted for a moment, light whimpers leaving gis mouth as he toyed with his sensitive dick.

"Fuck- Sorry Principessa. I came, naughty of me to do so before I helped you. I'll make sure you feel extra good" His other hand colliding with your ass again as he dove back in. His nose rubbing harshly against your slit as he flicked his tongue continously against your clit. Sucking and nibbling at it from time to time as he continued to grip and massage at your ass.

The sudden overwhelming feeling drove you over the age as you screeched, yelping as you squirted all over his face. You gasped loudly, crashing to the bed as your legs shook slightly as you panted.

"Mhmm.. Love it when you squirt" You looked at Theo as he wiped the cum from his face, sucking his fingers like a dessert he's got to finish.

"You're so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful.. Beautiful body" He groaned as he slid his hands up your curves, moaning softly as the scene infront of him. "S'lucky.. So fucking lucky.."

He tapped your thigh, as you led on your stomach on the bed, your legs hanging off the end slightly as your tippy toes held against the floor.

"Gunna make you feel so good, amore" he cooed as he lied up his tip with your slit before thrashing it in harshly. You yelped once again at you looked back at him.

"Going to teach you not. to wear. a slut. short. skirt. again. fuck!" He growled with each thrust as your body jerked against his movements. Your body slid up and down the bed as your feet struggled to stay on the floor much longer as he pushed you up the bed.

It wasn't before long till Theo climbed ontop of you, straddling you as he drilled into you. Loud whimpers left you as you clawed at the sheets as you screamed into his duvet.

"FUCK!! ARGH- TEDDY!" you pleaded as your back arched, shoving your ass harder into him as his hands gripped your hips tightly, his nails scatting cresent moons to your flesh as your bodies recoiled against one another.

"Yes! Like that.. fuckkk Teddy more..  please!" You babbled. He reached over grabbing your neck as he pulled your body up against his chest. Your legs trapped between his as he squeezed them shut. His arm tightly against your stomach as he continued to drill up into your pussy. You gasped and whined continously as he groaned and growled into your ear. His grip growing tighter around your neck as he flexed his biceps, his tongue sliding up your jawline to your ear.

"Teddy- I'm gunna cum! Please please please PLEASE! Cum with me!" you whined as your eyes rolled back. The growing feeling in your stomach as his cock continued to thrash into you. You were drunk on the feeling of him buried into you. You tightly shut your thighs together for any ounce more of pressure you could grasp.

"Good girl- M'close" He panted.

Your eyes began to roll back as you gasped for air at the tightening of his arm around your neck. The bursting feeling in your stomach as your whole body recoiled and shook as you screamed like bloody murder with all the air you has left in your lungs as you came.

At that moment Theo threw you down, as your body twitched conthously. He gripped your ass as he thrusted deep before cumming in you. Groaning deeply as he threw his head back. Sweat trickling down his forehead and chest as he panted heavily.

Neither of you moved for a moment to compose yourself. You occasionally twitched at your body recoiled against his dick.

"Fuck me.. So good" Theo pulled out, sighing as he watched cum pool at your slit and began to slide down. You felt his tip against you again as he collected the escaping cum and slightly fucked it back into you. His dick entering you once more as you gasped at the feeling.

"Good girl.. such a good girl.." His light thrusts as he peppered you with kisses all over your back and shoulders.

He gasped slightly as he froze above you. You were about to question him till you felt a slightly release.

"Did you just cum again Teddy?" You giggled as he thrusted once more before pulling out and collapsing next to you.

"Its hard to last with you. You make me so addicted" He smirked, his head turned to look at you. He rested his hand on your ass, squeezing it lightly from time to time.

"I'm glad this skirt shrunk" He chuckled, his smile wide.

You shook your head as you laughed at him. "You're a fool" You shimmied towards him, flicking your leg over his chest as you cuddled into him. His body warm.

He kissed your shoulder softly before softly kissing your cheek, nibbling at your ear before whispering;

"Ti amo amore mio".

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