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#So feel free to come in and ask ask about it whenever you want sweets <3
svt-rosalie · 2 days
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hi!! i was just wondering if you could go more in depth about yoongi and rosie’s relationship? they are such a sweet sibling duo and i’d love to read more about them!
. . . ♡ YOOJI ! ? 🐡 TIMELINE ★ ゚๑
ׁ ׅ ୨ ❪ relationships! ❫ ୧ ⊹ ࣪
© 2024 , svt-rosalie rosalie masterlist!
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you're in the first sentence of this
non-stopping page, my brightest dream
rainbow, nct dream
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2013-2014 / Where It All Started.
Rosalie had attended a BTS fansign in 2013, when she got some free time after training
She loved meeting all the boys but her favorite was Yoongi
He was confused when she confessed that statement towards, yet she explained that his attitude and rapping skills drew her in and she’s excited to see what they become
She hoped they would make it big and all their dreams would come true
Rosie also confessed that she was training too at Pledis and hoped one day he could see her on stage and cheer her on like she does him
Their interaction was short but memorable
Yoongi spoke about her to his company and asked if they could get in contact with hers to see if it would be allowed for her to visit back and forth for training purposes
Pledis was skeptical, not wanting a trainee of theirs to get into a scandal before they even made a debut, but as long as their meetings were supervised then it was fine
(As if a 13 year old girl is thinking of anything other then school and her training?? Shut the fuck up Pledis)
The big brother roll set in very quickly for Yoongi
The two would spend time together with Yoongi teaching her skills with writing music and helping her rap even though she knew she wanted to be a singer
Knowing how to rap wasn’t a bad skill, as Yoongi would say
Every single time they would work together Rosalie took in every word Yoongi said like he hung the moon in the sky
Again — Rosalie was a fan of Yoongi and all the other members of BTS. So, it was crazy for her to be in the same room as the boy, gaining tips and tricks from him even though he was still a rookie
She just knew though that he and his member would be something one day, and she’d be right their supporting them!
2015-2018 / Debut, and More
After months of training and putting her blood, sweat and tears into everything that she does
Rosalie finally debuts
She hadn’t told a single soul that her groups first music video would be out on May 26 that year
Not even Yoongi, it was suppose to be a surprise
And surprised he was
Yoongi didn’t find out until Seventeen had a stage on the same day as BTS at the same place ( author note, i know run by bts was released in april 2015 so i feel like their schedules might have overlap but im not sure, so we are going to pretend they did!)
BTS has been busy that year, changing their concept and figuring out what said group was going to be with their newest comeback ‘Run’ — so Yoongi didn’t really have the chance to ask Rosalie many questions other then
‘How are you doing?’ ‘Are you eating correctly?’ ‘Is anyone being mean to you?’ ect ect
So it definitely threw the older boy off when the (at the time) 5’6 girl comes running at him and yelling “I debuted! I debuted! Aren’t you happy?”
Yoongi was very excited for her even if he didn’t show it well
Rosie knew though
She knew that he was proud and little scared for her as well in his eyes.
Eyes tell.
Yoongi and Rosie cheered each other on silently and behind the scenes
The older boy would send her flowers and words of encouragement when she had a showcase she’s was nervous to perform for or when she needed some uplifting words
Rosalie would show him pictures of her pulling his photos cards and would subtly promote BTS whenever she could.
The kpop community found out of their friendship when Yoongi released his solo mixtape under the name Agust D and they had a collab named ‘So Far Away’
Fans were surprised but at the same time not really that surprised, if that makes sense?
Everyone saw the subtly of their friendship, a senior and junior.
But it was more of older brother and younger sister.
Yoongi even though he would encourage her and give her advice, he still teased her.
They took the world by storm again when posting a photo together on BTS twitter with the caption “annoying little sister.”
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Since 2017 they’ve became known to the world as the nations favorite siblings
Even though they aren’t related!
2020-Present / A Lifetime Friendship
The continued to have a strong bond throughout the years
They released many collabs together such as the song Eight on Rosalie’s first solo album, People Pt.2 on Yoongi’s Second mixtape
The public loved and hold on to every interaction they have
Rosalie’s parents think of Yoongi as a son they dreamed for
Yes, they love their two daughters but having son wouldn’t be so bad
At least that’s what Rosie’s mother says every time the older boy visits
Rosalie calls Yoongi any chance she gets
You know how their are some girls that call their mom or dad when they are in the car or getting ready, that’s Rosalie with Yoongi
Constantly.
The amount of youtube complications made for Yoongi and Rosie’s friendship
Clips resurface every year such as . . .
A clip from one of Rosie’s vlog of her and Yoongi going strawberry picking and then Rosie forcing the boy to bake a strawberry cake from the fruit they picked that day
Or Yoongi being recorded supporting Rosie at her Solo debut showcase in Seoul
Clips of Rosalie’s collection go BTS album collection right next to her SEVENTEEN ones, she likes to show off the photo cards she collect
(She’s one of us guys)
The two have never argued, disagreements yes, but they never get angry with each other
Rosalie is so happy she has someone like Yoongi in her life and Yoongi feels the exact same.
Twin flames, the two will stick by each others side till the very end
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author note — this sucks, i’m sorry
taglist — @angie-x3 @alixnsuperstxr @allthings-fandoms @peachyaeger @sakufilms @aysxldea @swagcandyfun @wonwooz1 @s4nsmoon @seolarzone @miyx-amour @novwonia @marissa-11 @magicsoyeon @skzfairies @btskzfav @vhsdolly @vlbi @iamawkwardandshy
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sanatomis · 3 months
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⋆౨ৎ˚ ──── 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐔𝐒𝐄.
it's been on your mind for a while now. and, even though he's a little confused at first, it takes satoru very little time to warm up to your enticing offer.
დ content. fr3e use kink, cursing, female!reader, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, consensual somnophilia, deepthroating, cum-swallowing, mentions of satoru eating it from the back <3
დ notes. second attempt at posting this on tumblr, don't mind me. it's crossposted on ao3 bc my previous attempts at posting all failed miserably (it never showed in the tags ://)
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Satoru is confused. It doesn’t take you much time to notice that your softly spoken words have him quite rattled, as the results of them can so clearly be observed on his face. There’s his nose that scrunches up cutely, and a little tilt of his head to the left which comes accompanied by a few snowy strands of hair shifting across his forehead. A small furrow of his brows, the soft gnawing on his bottom lip. He’s thinking about it; mulling over your offer. 
Three times, he tries to say something. His mouth opens once, twice, and it’s futile. Not a word escapes, and he takes a sharp intake of breath. You almost believe that, if you weren’t currently seated opposite him, he’d smack the side of his head a few times to make sure it’s still screwed on right. 
“So, I just. . .” The third time really is the charm, it seems. Though, he never quite manages to finish what he was going to say. 
“Just put it in, yeah.” 
You finish it for him, you’re sweet like that. It does really seem as if he could use the help.
“Wh—whenever I. . .” 
There’s a little voice in your head, chiming and chattering about how all of this is weird. It makes you nervous, and your fingers itch to play with your necklace to fight it. 
“Whenever you want,” you confirm. It’s as if your heart has suddenly moved to your throat. 
“Wha—what if you’re asleep?”
“I said whenever you want, didn’t I?” 
He almost lets out a little squeak at the words you so casually give him. They surprise him, as they do you. Your last sentence wasn’t one spoken by your mind, and you shift in your seat as if it’d shush the part of you that did. 
It’s as if you’re telling him what you’d eaten for breakfast this morning, not giving him permission to slip, bully and sheat his cock into your needy cunt at any given time of the day. Without needing to ask, too. Satoru can fill you up, stuff you full, and dump so much of his cum into you until you’re overflowing, and he can do it whenever he feels the need to—because he’s Satoru, and you love your Satoru.
“Are you sure?” He asks, a hint of apprehension laces his voice. Your heart almost swells at his concern, at his hesitancy and need to confirm your wishes; even if you’ve vocalised them so bluntly. “Maybe, think about it for a little long—” 
“I have,” you interrupt him. As gentlemanly as he’s being, there’s no mistaking the darkening of his eyes. The pretty, baby-blues making way for something sinister. You suddenly don’t feel so nervous anymore. “I have thought about it. Way too much, and for way too long.” 
A string of curse words tumble past his lips. They’re hushed, and quick, and from the way he, too, shifts in his seat you gather that he’s hard. Painfully so, if the bulge forming in his pants is anything to go by. Your relationship has existed long enough for you to know that drops of his pre-cum are staining the fabric of his boxers already—always so messy, your Satoru. The mere thought has you wanting to take him out, to put him in your mouth and lap at the sticky, white beads falling down his length. 
“Please,” you plead softly, and watch how he stifles a groan at the needy, saccharine sound of it. You want more, more of that sound. Right next to your ear, preferably. “Use me, Satoru.” 
There’s little you want more than that, little that arouses you more than that. The thought of Satoru taking you whenever he wishes, abiding by his whims and allowing him free-reign over your body—it instils a heat into your stomach, into your core. It makes you feel filthy, like a cheap whore picked up from the street; but you’d be his whore, and suddenly it all starts to feel like a dream. It’s Satoru. Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. He’ll be gentle, and he’ll be kind, and he’ll stop as soon as you utter your safeword, and he’ll love you so much, even if he fucks you as if he doesn’t. 
You have half a mind to ask him again, to plead, to beg for it again, as it almost feels as if he didn’t quite hear you. But, as soon as you open your mouth to do so, he immediately latches his lips onto yours. It’s messy, and sloppy, and entirely fueled by the frantic state his mind is currently in—but you don’t complain, and never will. 
His hands are everywhere and nowhere all at the same time, and you feel him almost buzzing with excitement. Your teeth clash against one another at the force of the kiss, your tongues greedily seek the other out, and saliva gets swapped from your mouth to his, and vice versa. It’s dirty, and sticky, and almost brings you back to your high-school years, when he’d been all clumsy hands and feigned confidence on the night you’d lost your virginity to each other. 
Satoru pulls back from your kiss first, and a small smile falls over his lips when he notices you chasing him. “Wait a minute, sweets,” he murmurs, forehead against yours. His breathing is heavy, as is yours, and you don’t want to wait a minute—you want him, now, tomorrow, and each day after that. “Are you. . .” He chuckles when you kiss him again, and again, and again. You only stop when he holds your head in place. “Are you completely sure about this?” 
You blink up at him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Mhm,” you hum, and caress his cheekbone with one of your thumbs. Satoru melts in your hold, as he always seems to do. “‘S you, ‘Toru. I’m completely sure when it’s you.” 
He lets out a shaky breath. There’s a storm of emotion behind his eyes, but all of them point to the same conclusion—he loves you. So much, you might even get sick of it one day; he’d told you as a joke, one born out of fear. But you won’t. You never will. And you think he’s starting to realise it, finally. 
“Okay,” he whispers, and kisses your forehead. 
It’s delicate, and loving, and so opposite from the way he buries himself into you over, and over, and over again a mere five minutes after that. Satoru’s needy, and impatient, and so pent-up from your previous conversation that foreplay gets thrown out of the window. 
He bends you over the couch first, that cute little ass of yours jiggling right in front of his face as he mounts you from behind. He slips in easily, with a pussy as wet as yours, and a cock as leaky and hard as his—the lack of foreplay almost goes unnoticed. Almost, of course, as the sheer size of him never fails to elicit a hint of a burn as he stretches you out. Nevermind that you take his cock daily, or that your walls are bound to carry his shape after the many years you spend with him. 
The sounds that decorate your apartment are filthy, lewd, and borderline obscene, but you’re thoroughly obsessed with them. The slapping of his balls against your ass, the squelching with each passing thrust, the deep groans and choked whimpers Satoru releases next to your ear just like you wanted. Even your own moans, your own babbles, and your own whines add to the experience; the combination of sounds. And you love it, because it’s you, and it’s Satoru—and it’s the two of you together. 
It doesn’t end after Satoru cums, nor does it after you do. The agreement between the two of you that was made tonight seems to have done a number on him, and he takes you a second time. On the balcony, where he puts you on display for the world to see as he fills you over and over again. And a third time, in your shared bed that’s never been safe from his affection and blatant desire towards you. And a fourth time, in the shower that was initially meant to clean you up, he decides to dirty you even further. 
If this is the reaction he gives to the mere idea of using you whenever he pleases, you long for the time that he actually does.
It’s well past midnight when Satoru finally decides he’s done with you. You’re curled into his side, a shirt that’s way too large for you (but one that you swore you didn’t steal from him) covers your figure. You’re asleep. Tired, exhausted, and completely knocked out. He smiles. You’re so cute. A love-sick expression is stuck to his face, and it may very well become permanent if he stays looking at you. 
One of his fingers reaches in-between your thighs, gently scooping up the remnants of his release. Satoru almost coos at the way your nose scrunches up cutely when he starts to finger it back into your pussy. It allows his digits to slip easily through your folds, and she sucks them in as soon as he reaches your hole. His cum doesn’t leak out this time. Not yet, anyway, but even if it does, he’s more than willing to repeat the process. 
He sighs. Mind full of thoughts, but at least his balls are empty now. There’s a little huff escaping his lips, and he’s amused at his own comment. Satoru shakes his head, but the small smile remains nonetheless. Strong, yet gentle arms pull your body tighter against him. 
You’re delicate, and sweet, and so precious to him; and he will do his best to take care of you. Use me, use me, use me. He kisses your forehead, his own eyes falling shut. 
He will most certainly try to. 
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The very first time Satoru entertains the idea of indulging in your offer, is on a day where you’ve decided to wear his favourite lipgloss. It’s so shiny, such a cute shade, and makes you look so beautiful, but above all—it’s sticky. It’s sticky, and easily smudged, and he knows from experience that everything feels so much filthier when he steals a kiss from you with it on. 
Without meaning to, thoughts of you wrapping those glossed lips around his dick, creating a mess made-up of spit, cum, tears, and thus that delightful stickiness from your lipgloss, enters his mind. The coloured shade will leave a perfect ring around his length, there’s no doubt in his mind. Your pretty face will be all dirty, smudged stains near the corners of your mouth courtesy of his fat cock. You will be a sight for sore eyes. 
You’re talking to him, but Satoru can’t seem to listen. He’s enamoured by your lips, your soft-looking, plumb, and very glossed lips. He briefly feels pathetic, knowing that a mere make-up item has the ability to make his head spin to such a degree—but he doesn’t, as he quickly realises it only does so because it’s you that’s wearing it. 
Fuck, he really wants to stuff his cock into your mouth. 
Five, six, almost seven seconds pass before the realisation kicks in. If he wants to put his cock in your mouth, then he can. Satoru’s body moves on its own before he gets a chance to think about his actions, as is often the case with him, and it's not long before his large hand finds its new home on the back of your head. He falters briefly, watching how you quiet down, how your eyes widen slightly, but continues as he’s doing when you make absolutely no move to stop him when he gently guides your head down, and down, and down—until you’re right where he wants you. 
A small gasp leaves your lips when he puts you on eye-level with his crotch. It’s quiet, and he almost didn’t hear it, but it makes him pause nonetheless. The hand on your head loosens its grip, and he hesitates as he looks down at you. 
“Is this oka—” 
The sentence never gets finished, forever interrupted by a sharp hiss as you take his cock out of his pants with such unabashed eagerness. It slaps against his abdomen, leaky tip staining the fabric of his shirt. Your previous conversation is all but forgotten, it seems, as you don’t waste a second in taking his hard, aching length almost entirely into your mouth. It all happens so quickly, and Satoru’s mind almost can’t keep up. All he did was think about filling your mouth, and now he’s actually doing it; the fat tip prodding near the back of your throat. 
His hands are shaky, he notices, and so is his breathing as a small whine escapes when one of your hands goes downwards to play with his balls. “Fuck!” he curses, caught by surprise at the boldness with which you reached for that part of him. In his startle, his hands return to the back of your head, and your words make their impromptu return to the very front of his mind. 
Use me. 
He will, then. 
Satoru isn’t at all gentle when he does. His fingers tangle into your hair, and he pushes you down onto his cock until your nose brushes against the soft, white hairs near his pelvis. Your poor little mouth is struggling, he can see, but he can’t seem to pay much mind to it; the sounds of you gagging around his thick length are too much of a pleasure to hear. The way he pushes you up-and-down nears the realm of brute force, and still you eagerly suck, and suck, and suck. 
A particularly loud groan echoes through the room when he steals a glance at your small form kneeling between his legs. It seems he knows you well; you are a sight for sore eyes like this. There are tears in your eyes, and some of them have already fallen down your hollowed cheeks; hollowed, to make space for him. Your mouth is filled to the brim with his cock, and even though he can see you fighting for breath, you never make an attempt at catching it—as if you wouldn’t dare to deprive him of the please your throat gives him. 
Satoru catches himself falling in love all over again. 
He fucks your face harder, and harder, and harder the closer he gets to the edge. Deep groans, and slurred curse words join your symphony of muffled moans, and his hold on your head slowly starts to falter. 
“‘M close, princess,” he mumbles, but that’s about all the warning he gives you. A few seconds later, he cums down your throat. He doesn’t ask, he doesn’t need to. Not because you’d given him permission to use you as he sees fit, but simply because he knows you’re utterly obsessed with him doing so. “Fuck, f—fuck, look a’you, hm? Gonna take all of it like a good girl? Don’t waste it, m’kay? S’all for, fuck, for you.” 
It’s something he’s done countless times before, but Satoru swears that each time he spills his cum down your throat feels better than the last. Thick, sticky ropes fill your mouth, and you hum around him when it keeps going, and going, and going. You’re struggling to take it all, and he huffs in amusement when bits of it start to drip down your chin. His thumb catches it, and he quickly places it back in your mouth, forcing you to open it wider to accommodate both the digit and his slowly softening cock. You happily do so. 
He pulls out of you shortly after, with his chest heaving as he recuperates. His entire focus is on you, you, and you as he watches you wipe your mouth and swallow the last of his seed. There’s a smile on your face. It’s kind, and gentle, and innocent; almost as if he hadn’t just fucked your mouth and dumped his release down your throat. Satoru is utterly bewitched as he watches you, captivated by all and every little thing you do, and he cooperates as you tuck him back into his pants. 
And then, as if nothing at all happened, you sit down next to him again—and you speak, you continue talking, finishing the story he’d interrupted with his need to be sucked off. Your voice is hoarse, and your cheeks are still stained with dried tears, but you pay neither of those facts any mind. It makes all of this look so. . . mundane. You were speaking, and then you were between his legs, and now you’re speaking again. 
Satoru’s heart starts to beat even faster for you. Fuck, that’s so hot. This time, he decides to try his very best to listen to your tale about some co-worker of yours that pissed you off this week. He pitches in every-now-and-then, adding a low ‘huh,’ or ‘mhm’ to keep you occupied, and he almost feels guilty—guilty, because all his adrenaline-filled mind can think about are the future possibilities of using you.
“And, wanna know what’s the worst thing about the situation? It was my idea to get donuts for everybody! That harlot didn’t even want them initially.” 
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Satoru’s downward spiral is inevitable, and he finds himself falling victim to it more times than one would consider healthy in a mere seven days. He very quickly learns that he’s thoroughly obsessed with the notion that allows him to fill you up anywhere, and at any time. To him, it’s one of the highest honours. 
There’s such confidence, such unwavering faith encompassed in your view of him. There has to be, if you’re willing to allow him such a thing. Thinking about it almost causes a cute pink hue to colour his cheek. . .you really do trust him a lot, huh?
He’s never been able to tell you ‘no’ before, and he certainly isn’t about to start. So, he dutifully listens to you and abides by your delectable request. To satisfy you, of course. There’s absolutely no other reason for his actions, and the way he breaches your dripping cunt with his leaky tip, all while soft breaths leave your lips, and your pretty eyes are peacefully shut, is simply to indulge you. 
Use me. Use me. Use me. 
Satoru curses, the crude words that tumble past his lips being plenty colourful. One of his hands settles on your hip whilst the other hikes your (or rather his) shirt up to provide him with better access. It’s your fault, really, that he’s currently sporting one of the hardest boners of the century. You were waiting for him, weren’t you? Waiting for him to return and bury himself to the hilt in that sweet, sobbing pussy of yours. 
There’s no other reason for you to fall asleep with nothing but his shirt on. Not even panties covered your cute little cunt, your sticky folds fully on display and welcoming him home. Satoru wants to bury himself in it—in a multitude of ways if he’s being truly honest with himself. For now, though, he’ll stick to simply one. 
“Shh,” he coos into your ear, delicately rubbing soft circles into your upper thigh with his thumb. You whine faintly, feeling his cock fight its way past your walls. He splits you open, stretching you just wide enough to slip inside. Your nose scrunches up cutely, and he almost rouses you from your slumber.  “‘S me, really need you, baby.” 
And that’s all he has to say. It’s me. It’s your Satoru. A gentle whisper of those words, and he gets to use you as he pleases. All of his previous worries, all of the near-boiling anger he felt at his previous meeting with the higher-ups washes away as soon as he sinks himself balls-deep into your pussy. Satoru groans deeply at the feeling, and gentle, stuttered declarations of love are babbled into your ear with each slow drag of his cock along your walls. 
The garbled mesh of words that he deems too important not to say, even despite their poor enunciation, only ceases to exist a few minutes later—when he spills his heavy load into that sweet, sweet cunt of yours. No, into that sweet cunt of his. Because, that’s who it truly belongs to, no? It’s his, to use, to spoil, to worship. You’d offered it to him so kindly, after all. And, well, Satoru has never been the type of person to turn down a gift. 
. . . You unknowingly create a monster. It seems that even the mere idea of being allowed to use you as he pleases has him tip-toeing around the line of borderline insanity. As each time he sees you, he wants you. . .and each time he wants you, you let him. 
It doesn’t matter what you’re doing at that moment. Even if you’re speaking, and he suddenly feels the need, no, the simple want for a blowjob. And even if you’re asleep, resting after what must have been a long day, you still allow him to slip his aching cock into you to satisfy the craving he’s had for hours. 
Even if you’re busy setting the table, you don’t push him away, and you still allow him to bend you over the wooden surface, to sink to his knees and lick, suck, and kiss around his pretty pussy with his tongue. Simply because he wants to do it, and you really do so, too. 
. . .And even now, when you’re cooking dinner. 
There’s a certain cuteness about the way your brows scrunch in concentration, about the way you gently bite on your bottom lip as you prepare the food for the two of you; it nearly makes him feel guilty for feeling the secret desire to ruin such a lovely, innocent view. The word nearly is important, however, as he’s acutely aware of your need for him to do exactly that—and so, any sense of wrongdoing melts away, similar to snow underneath the sun.
He’s not quite sure what it is that you’re cooking, but it smells delectable. There’s an array of spices, herbs, and vegetables strewn around the counter, and Satoru knows he’ll be eating like a King in a few minutes. As for right now, though, there’s a different craving, a different type of hunger slowly making its way forward. He fears it won’t be one that’ll be sated by your lovely culinary skills. 
“Smells good, baby,” he mumbles. It doesn’t take him long to settle himself behind you, large hands gently coming to rest on your hips. He sighs in the crook of your neck, and nudges the skin with his nose. “What’cha making?” 
You answer. He knows you do, as he feels the vibrations of your voice underneath his lips, the soft hum feeling quite soothing as he kisses along the column of your throat, but Satoru can’t find it in himself to focus on the words you give him. His ever-loose hands roam eagerly down your body, and the previous loving, and delicate kisses along your neck turn sloppy, wet, almost, as Satoru dips one of his hands underneath the waistband of your panties. There’s a grin forming on his lips, one entirely too big and full of confidence. 
“‘M startin’ to think you’re just always wet for me, pretty girl,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear, fingers entirely coated in your slick the second he’d sunk them into your dripping cunt. 
Your cheeks heat up, and you try to stifle a moan when he, so very, very slowly starts to move his fingers in-and-out of you. “I—I am,” you admit, and clench around his digits just as he’s about to take them out; as if it’s a last resort to keep them inside. “F’you, Satoru. Just for you.” 
“Hm?” He hums, and almost huffs in amusement as he sees you trying to continue what you were doing so desperately, as if you weren’t being fucked on your husband’s fingers. Just for that—he rapidly thrusts his fingers back into you, harsher, deeper, and so much quicker. “Just for me, yeah, princess?” 
“Y—Ah! Yes, yes,” you squeak, one of your hands seeking out some semblance of support from the kitchen counter.  “Only for you.” 
There’s an embarrassing sound hitting your ears, as each thrust of his absurdly long fingers is accompanied by your wetness squelching around them. You struggle to speak, to breathe almost, as he fucks you on his fingers. Satoru stretches you out, curling his fingers to find the spot he knows will leave you with those pretty tears falling down your cheeks, and to hit it over, and over, and over again. 
There’s such a heat gathered between your legs, such a pleasurable source of warmth, and Satoru suppresses a groan as he’s once again made very aware of that fact when your walls clench around his digits. His cock twitches, and he lets out a shaky sigh as he grinds it against your ass. “You are, aren’t you? Hm? C’mon, baby, don’t be shy. . .be a little louder.”
You aren’t shy. You haven’t been for a while now. There’s a certain hotness in the way you moan so unabashedly, so utterly shamelessly whenever Satoru gets his hands on you in such a way—it’s as if you can’t ever get enough of him. It never fails to harden his cock even more, to make his balls feel achingly heavy until he ultimately empties them inside your tight little cunt. And you know so, which is exactly why you do it. 
“‘M not,” you rasp out, one of your hands coming to rest on his wrist. The back of your head falls against his shoulder as you choke on a moan, seeking some very necessary aid to stay upright. “Please, I. . .’Toru, please.”
In all honesty, Satoru isn’t quite sure what you’re begging for. He knows it’s one of two options: either to cum on his fingers, or for him to push his thick cock inside your pussy already. There’s no desire to ask, however—he’d much rather make that decision himself. The hand that wasn’t currently burying three of its digits knuckle-deep into your pussy busies itself with his belt-buckle. 
There’s a pitiful whine falling from your lips, one that’s released immediately upon the removal of his fingers from your cunt. “Shh,” he coos in your ear, instantly soothing your upcoming tantrum. You stifle the complaint you’d prepared for him, the feeling of his fat tip prodding near your too-eager hole quickly puts an end to it. “S’okay, pretty girl, just wanna feel you cum around my cock, s’all. . .Think you can do that for me?” 
You nod, and rapidly so. “Mhm,” you hum, and open your mouth when he presents it with his soiled fingers. You clean them, suckling around them until each bit of your sweetness is gone. “Want to—really wanna cum around your cock, ‘Toru.”
“Of course, you do,” he breathes, and captures a quick kiss. And another. And another. And one more. It makes you smile, and that, in turn, makes him smile. When he does pull back, there’s as much love as there is lust dancing in his eyes. “Wouldn’t have expected anything less of you, princess.”
Satoru is often greedy. There’s no such thing as savouring something with him—if he’s enjoying himself, he’ll be as gluttonous as he wishes. The exception is you, of course, as you always are to him. There’s no greater feeling than savouring you. It’s why he, more often than not, decides to fill you up slowly. To let his cock drag along your walls, to let your soothing warmth engulf him inch, by inch, by inch, until his firm balls press up against your ass. He does so this time, too. 
Your long, drawn-out moan as he fills you up slowly sounds as if it were gifted to him by the Heavens, and Satoru’s cock twitches inside when he hears you mutter a soft fuck as you struggle to adjust to him. It’s certainly not the first time you’ve taken his cock, but the sheer girth of him still stretches you out—as it always does. Your husband loves you dearly, however, and waits. . .one second, two seconds, three seconds, and he doesn’t get any further before his self-restraint falters. 
Satoru nearly pulls himself out of your cunt completely, only for him to fuck himself back inside so deeply—it has you place both palms of your hands on the counter to steady yourself. It startles you, as he hears you choke on a moan, but he continues. His movements are quick and rough, animalistic even, as he pounds into your cunt. 
“Sa—ngh, Satoru, wait, I. . .” You interrupt yourself with a moan, the feeling of his tip near your cervix too sharp for you to properly finish a sentence. He’s so deep. It feels as if he’s in your womb, in your stomach—it feels as if he’s everywhere. “Fuck, I. . .f—fuck, ‘Toru. . .”
 “Hm?” He breathes out, a groan slipping past his lips. “Want me to, fuck, you. . .” His rapid movements dial down. The self-control needed for it is enormous, but you’d asked him to wait—so he will. Some beads of pre-cum drip into your cunt, as if his cock was upset that he’d suddenly slowed down. “Wan’me to go slower, baby?”
“No,” There’s a small whine near the end of your sentence. It’s the absolute last thing you wanted him to do, even if you originally asked him to wait. “No, don’t, please, keep going. Need—need more.” You feel Satoru wrap both hands around your hips, as if he’s preparing for something. “Harder, please. . .”
“Harder?” He asks, and you don’t need to see him to know there’s currently a sense of smugness ruining his pretty face.  “How hard do you want it, huh, sweets?” 
Little more than the tip remains inside you, and there’s not a moment for you to mourn the loss of his entire girth—as all air leaves your lungs when he immediately thrusts back into you with a newfound vigour, with such force that it has you bend over the kitchen counter. 
“Like, ah, like this, huh? That how you want it, angel?”
You don’t answer—you’re not able to, as Satoru uses the entirety of his thick length to steal your ability to speak coherently. Once again, you’re acutely aware of the sheer size of your husband. Satoru is tall, and big, and he likely isn’t even aware of it. It certainly doesn’t seem so, as he heads no mind to the way your feet are starting to lift off the floor. Each deep thrust has you inching further up the counter; his hands on your hips nearly holding you up and off the floor as he rocks into you from behind. 
There’s little you can do, except take it. 
The kitchen is filled with sounds that definitely do not belong there. Your wetness is prominent, the sound of it borderline embarrassing, and Satoru’s balls slap against your skin with each thrust. He’s relentless, and you want to cry. The good kind of crying; the kind that often comes accompanied with mind-numbing pleasure. You hiccup, and sniff, and try your best to stabilise yourself against the counter. 
Though, your efforts prove futile once Satoru brings one of his hands to your front. You choke on a whimper as he cruelly pinches your clit, toying with it, flicking and rubbing it in the way he knows will get you off. 
“T—Toru,” you warn him. “I—I’m. . .”
“Mhm,” he hums in acknowledgement, not letting up even for a second. There’s a featherlight kiss pressed to your shoulder. “Me too, princess. S’okay, let, shit, let go for me, yeah?”
And because he’s Satoru—your Satoru, you comply. It hits you all at once, and you’re suddenly very grateful for both your husband holding you upright, and your expensive kitchen counter for adding some extra support. You’re still breathing heavily, coming down from your high, when Satoru hits his own. It’s a familiar feeling, but one you’ll never grow tired of nonetheless. 
You sigh in content. His cum fills you up rapidly, and to the brim. It’s hot, and thick, and trickles out of you even with him still inside—simply because there’s so much of it. The both of you are out of breath, and because of it, choose to stay within each other’s hold for just a little while longer. 
Satoru could—and would—stay in this position for the rest of his life. . .but he’s quite sure that you’ve put a lot of effort in today’s dinner and he doesn’t want it to be for naught. With a deep sigh and a quick kiss to your cheek, he goes against every fibre of his being, and pulls out of you. 
A shiver trails down your spine when he does so, and you let out a soft sigh in content. You’re still recovering, he notices. There’s a trail of his cum dripping out of you, though he wastes little time to push it back inside. Satoru takes matters into his own hands, and decides to place your panties back into place for you, too. It gets soiled by his seed rather quickly, but that’s a problem for later. 
After smoothing down your skirt, he tucks himself back into his pants, as well. He’s by your side as quick as he can, and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your temple. 
It’s only then that he properly takes notice of all the stuff that’s been thrown around the kitchen. Pots, pans, vegetables, spices. It seems you really were busy.
And, as if he hadn’t just finished fucking you silly, he smiles. 
“So, what are you making?”
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© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
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aliceramblez · 8 months
Text
Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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Pity Party.
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Synopsis - Carmy just wants to see you treated the way he thinks you deserve. He decides to take matters into his own hands.
Pairing - Carmen Berzatto x Female Roommate Reader
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol mention. carmys filthy mouth.
Age Rating - 18+
Author's Note - hello hello hello!! i am back!! i had a wonderful vacation soaking up the sun, and i am feeling refreshed and ready to go. i have had so many ideas over the past few weeks, so i'm excited to get some of them written asap!! this was a fic that came to me randomly, as i was thinking about roommate!carmen and how much of a menace he'd be if you ever talked about other guys. this was written as a part of my carmen roommates collection. it doesn't follow on from Finders, Keepers or Sweet Dreams, but it does exist in the same universe - so you can decide if this takes place before or after!! as always, feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts or burning desires you have. so much love <3
as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3
Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.
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"You're back early."
Carmy had swung the door open, expecting to come home to an empty apartment. Instead, he's met with the sight of you, sitting on the couch, undoing the straps of your shoes.
"Fuckin' disaster," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.
He breathes out a chuckle at the stormy look on your face. Carmy thinks you're cutest when you're angry. He aches to smooth the crease between your brows with his thumb.
"That bad?" he asks, taking a seat next you and kicking off his sneakers.
"You wouldn't even believe."
He rises and makes his way to the kitchen, filling the tea kettle and placing it on the stove top. Grabbing two mugs, he casts a glance over his shoulder at you, frowning at your body language. You look defeated.
Carmy steeps two cups of tea, placing one of them carefully into your waiting hands. He resumes his seat on the sofa, pressing his thigh against yours and turning to face you.
"You wanna talk about it?"
You think for a moment before replying.
"You're gonna laugh at me."
His face instantly crumples, confusion written all over it.
"I'll never laugh at you. I'll laugh with you, sure. But never at you."
He nudges your shoulder with his, urging you to go on.
"Okay, fine. The actual date was pretty good. He took me to that Italian place downtown-"
"Dolce Vita? Did you get the truffle pasta I told you about?" Carmy interrupts you before you can continue.
"Yes, oh my God. It was incredible. Do you think you can recreate it sometime?"
"Fuck yeah. They're pretty secretive with their recipes, but I think I can figure it out. You can help me if you want - I'm gonna need a sous chef."
He pulls a reluctant laugh from you, the sound echoing off the ceramic of your mugs. You both know that being the sous chef involves you sitting on the counter drinking wine while Carmy does all the work.
"Of course. I'll always be your sous chef."
"I'll hold you to that."
You smile at him gently, a little taken aback by the sincerity in his voice.
"Anyway. The dinner went great. He seemed super interested in me, asked me questions, told me about his job, his hobbies, his dog. He was hot, and good to talk to. I thought I'd hit the jackpot."
"And then?"
"And then we went back to his apartment. And it all went to shit."
He chuckles, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight.
"Tell me more."
"You really want to hear about all of this?"
It's not like you and Carmy aren't close. You absolutely are. It's just that there's always been this unspoken connection between the two of you. A bubbling, fiery attraction that you both shut down repeatedly, screwing the lid on tight whenever it rears its head. So, you tend to avoid talking to Carmy about dating. You're scared you'll accidentally blurt out the truth - you compare every single date to him.
"Of course I do."
His answer is so genuine it makes you ache. You continue, hesitantly.
"Well... things got a little... heavy. He wasn't a bad kisser, I guess... he just wasn't... a good one? He kept biting my lip super hard and it kinda hurt. Then he pulled my clothes off like a high schooler, and he's on top of me, and I'm waiting for him to sort of... do... anything? And then he's finished. Like, completely done. And then he has the nerve to ask me if I finished."
Carmy's mouth has fallen open, shock etched across his face. After a long, heavy pause, he speaks.
"What the fuck?"
You look at him for moment, before bursting into contagious laughter. He joins you, both of you with your heads thrown back, giggles reverberating around the lowlit room.
"I mean, seriously," he pants, still laughing. "What the fuck?"
"I didn't even answer him. I just put my clothes on, grabbed my bag and left without saying a word."
Every time you try to stifle your laughter, a giggle escapes. The situation wasn't funny at the time, but looking back, it's hilarious.
All of a sudden, you both go silent. You're deep in thought, reflecting on the seemingly never ending stream of bad dates that you've endured. Carmy is watching you intently, ocean blue eyes glued to your face.
"Fuck," you breathe. "This is kinda pathetic."
Carmy inhales deeply, and turns his body so it's facing yours on the couch.
"The way I see it," he begins, "you have two options."
You quirk a brow in confusion and stay quiet, waiting for him to explain.
"You can sit here feeling sorry for yourself, or, you can let me fuck you the way you deserve."
Your mouth falls open in shock at the exact same moment your brain seems to shut down. You can't think. You can't process his words. All you can focus on is the way he's staring at you. You suddenly feel hot under his gaze, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. A shiver runs down your spine, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"Wh-... what?" you choke out.
"You heard me, honey. You can wallow in your little pity party, or you can let me show you what it's like to be with someone who can actually make you come. Your choice."
His voice has dropped an octave lower than usual, the tone warm and honeyed. He's still staring at you, blue gaze unrelenting.
"Is this gonna fuck everything up between us?" you whisper hesitantly.
Carmy reaches out and places a gentle hand on your cheek, thumb stroking careful circles into your skin.
"I don't think anything can fuck up what we have," he murmurs. "You're the only thing in my life that makes sense."
His confession seems to sober you up, the honesty in his words snapping you back to your senses.
"Okay."
He almost does a double take at the sureness in your voice.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Put your money where your mouth is, Carmen."
"There she is," he chuckles. "You scared me when you went quiet for a second there."
"Well, if what you say is true, you're not gonna be able to shut me up for the night."
He laughs darkly, and slides closer to you slightly.
"Oh, honey. You're gonna wish you hadn't said that."
He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, tracing the journey of your neck with his fingertips. He rests his hand lightly at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it making you pant.
"If there's any point where you don't like something, or you want me to slow down, just say so. Okay?"
You nod your head, entranced by the sudden dominance he's displaying. You've never seen this side of him before. You can't believe he's been hiding it this whole time.
"Words, pretty. Need to hear you say it."
"Yes. I understand. I'll tell you, I promise."
He doesn't say anything in reply, just smirks. He lets you sit in the silence for a moment too long, the anticipation slowly killing you.
"Please, Carmen," you breathe. "Please."
"Fuck," he groans, shuffling closer to you. "You sound so pretty when you beg."
Carmy leans in and kisses your cheek gently, testing the waters. He presses a kiss to your other cheek, and pulls back to watch for your reaction. When he's happy, he tilts forward and leaves a careful kiss on your chin, then your forehead, then both of your closed eyes, before kissing you on the side of your mouth. His closeness makes you whine, desperate for him to give you what you want.
Finally, he connects his lips to yours, starting off slow and tender. When you tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and try to pull him even closer, his resolve snaps. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, exploring eagerly. You clamber over him and climb into his lap, straddling his hips and pressing yourself into his body.
Carmy can't decide where to put his hands. He's grabbing at your waist, running his fingers up your back, pulling you into him by your ass. You're both groaning into each others mouths, enraptured by the other person and the all consuming way they kiss.
"Can I take this off?" he asks lowly, pulling at the hem of your dress.
Instead of answering, you pull it over your head, throwing it onto the floor in front of you.
"Fuck," he murmurs. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen."
His hands are roaming all of your exposed skin, as if he can't get enough. He's terrified he won't ever get to see you like this again, so he's not going to waste a second.
You grind your hips down into his, eliciting a groan from the both of you. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, as he leans up to press open mouthed kisses to your jaw. Your fingers fly to the hem of his t shirt, pulling it off swiftly. You manage to shove his jeans down and off, before attempting to pull off his underwear. Carmy stops you in your tracks.
"Nuh uh," he tuts. "This is about you. Not me."
He pulls you off his lap gently and shuffles so his back is resting against the couch cushions. He spreads his legs wide, and gestures for you to sit between them. When you don't move, he looks at you carefully.
"Give me a color, pretty girl."
You take a deep breath, and smile at him softly.
"Green, Carmen. Promise."
You manoeuvre sideways, so you can place yourself with your back to his chest. He wraps his arms around you for a moment and holds you tightly, as if he's scared you'll disappear any second. You relax into his embrace, all the tension leaving your body. You have nothing to worry about. It's just you and Carmen, in the place you call home.
You drop your head back into Carmy's shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of his hands on your skin. He's begun tracing patterns down your arms, your sides, your stomach, until he reaches your underwear. He plays with the band, dipping his finger underneath in a feather light touch. Goose bumps rise across your body and you shiver, practically vibrating with need.
"Carmen," you whisper. "Don't tease."
"But that's half the fun," he murmurs into your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice.
You can picture it perfectly, too. The way his eyes crinkle, the way his mouth curves, the way he bites his lip to stifle it. The image in your mind makes you melt into him further. You want to be as close to him as you physically can be. You'd completely disappear into him if you could.
He brings you back to reality by cupping you over your underwear, groaning when he feels the saturated material.
"Oh, pretty girl. Is this all for me? Fuck."
Suddenly, his game of teasing has lost all its fun. Carmy twists his fingers into your underwear and pulls them off in one swift movement, throwing them in the general direction of your dress on the floor. He places a hand on each of your thighs and spreads them apart, hooking them over his legs.
Carmy starts off slow, careful. He caresses over your skin, gentle and almost apprehensive. When he gets to your core, he swipes a finger through, testing the waters. When you buck your hips into his hand, he knows you're both on the same page.
"Just relax, okay? Gonna make you feel good."
His deep, smooth, whiskey like voice is doing nothing to help the heat bubbling in your stomach. You only whine in response, wiggling your hips to urge him to keep going.
Carmy throws one arm around your stomach, keeping you plastered to his body. You can feel him hot and hard against your back, and you so desperately want to feel him that your mouth is watering. You grind back into him, and he reads your mind.
"Not yet," he whispers. "This is about you, remember? Need to show you what you've been missing."
With that, he circles your clit with two fingers, slowly but surely. He revels in the noises you elicit. They're making him dizzy, disorientated. He never thought he'd be the one to pull a sound like that from you. He's quite convinced he's dreaming.
"Let me hear you. Don't hold back on me, okay?"
You nod your head frantically, willing to give him whatever he asks if you get what you want.
Carmy slips a finger into you slowly, moaning under his breath at your warmth. When he thinks you're ready, he adds a second finger, and sets a steady rhythm, trying to figure out what you like.
After he's set his pace, he starts to curl his fingers on the up stroke, grinning to himself when he finds the spot.
"Yeah? Right there? That's it, isn't it?"
You're nodding and shaking and pawing at his forearms, trying to tether yourself to reality in any way you can. You think you might be floating, on cloud 9, in some sort of euphoric trance. You can't believe no one's ever made you feel like this before. You're convinced no one ever will again.
Carmy quickens his pace and basks in the glory of your moans. He thinks this might be the most beautiful you've ever looked, spread out completely for him. Every inch of your skin is touching his, and it makes his heart skip a beat for a second.
He presses a kiss into your hair and keeps his mouth there, murmuring honeyed praises into your ear.
"Doin' so good for me."
"You got it, honey, that's it."
"Atta girl. Keep going. Almost there."
"You look so fuckin' pretty like this. Fuck. Gonna be thinking about this forever."
"I'll ruin you, baby. Nothing's ever gonna compare to this, to what we have."
All you can do is moan in response, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You're almost there, but something is stopping you. You whine in frustration, tears welling in your eyes. Carmy feels the tension suddenly grasp your muscles, and leans down to mutter to you softly.
"What is it, sweet girl? What do you need? Just tell me. Anything, and I'll give it to you."
You're not sure how much you trust your voice right now, so you decide to show him instead. You take the hand that he's using to hold you to him and move it up your body until it's resting against your throat. You tighten your fingers around his, and moan in response to the pressure.
"Oh, baby," he coos. "Filthy fuckin' girl. Here I thought you were so innocent, and this whole time you wanted to be choked like a whore?"
The way he degrades you so lovingly makes you mewl. You'd never ever trust anyone else to speak to you this way in such an intimate moment - but with Carmen, there's no hesitation. You know he's just telling you what you need to hear in the heat of the moment. And you love him for it.
"Fuck, Carmen," you manage to choke out. "Keep going. Don't stop, please."
"I'll do anything you want if you keep saying my name like that," he whispers.
"Carmen," you moan in response. "Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy Carmy."
You're chanting his name like a prayer. He's rutting into your back, hips grinding and circling in time with his fingers that are maintaining their steady rhythm. His fingers tighten around your throat as he crooks his digits just right, and the result is a devastating moan from you that Carmy wishes to have on repeat for the rest of his life.
"So close," you whisper hoarsely. "Harder."
Carmy uses his thumb to circle your clit with one hand, other hand pulling you by your neck back into him tightly. He grinds his hips dirtily into you, and the feeling of him so silky and warm against you is what sends you over the edge. The corners of your vision go white as you arch into him, head thrown backwards into his chest. The sounds you're making are so melodic, so borderline angelic that Carmy almost cries. Heaven, he thinks. This is salvation.
Carmy finishes with you, climaxing onto the soft skin of your back. You both relax simultaneously, chests heaving and panting. He removes his fingers gently and wraps both arms around you, pulling you into him tightly despite the mess. He reaches to brush the hair out of your face, and the gesture is so tender it makes your lip quiver.
"Thank you," you whisper after what feels like hours of comfortable silence.
"Sorry I called you a whore," he murmurs back.
You let out a surprised laugh, vibrating with amusement in his arms.
"I know you didn't mean it."
"I mean I did give you the best orgasm of your life, so... call it even?"
"You're forgiven," you chuckle. "Completely forgiven."
You trace gentle patterns over his forearms with your fingertips, following the black ink of his tattoos. He sighs in contentment and places a kiss into your hair, relaxing further into the couch.
You sit together like that for a while, neither of you too concerned with the time. It's not often you see Carmy so relaxed, so serene. You're enjoying it for as long as you can.
"We should clean up," he says quietly, eventually. "Sorry about the mess."
"It's okay. Worth it," you tease, pinching his thigh. He pinches your side in retaliation, which makes you jump.
"Come on, trouble."
He stands from the couch, never letting go of the grip he has on you. You have no choice but to stand with him, yelping as he half carries you through the apartment towards the shower.
The sounds of both of your laughter bounce off of the abandoned mugs of tea still sat on the coffee table, melodic and joyous. The moonlight seeps through the windows, illuminating the beginning of something special in the living room of your shared apartment.
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sugurizz · 1 year
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(Smut/ NSFW +18 - minors DNI !)
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Nanami always keeps clear boundaries with his subordinates. He's a highly professional man who never crosses a line when it comes to mutual respect with everyone around him.
It's almost admirable in your eyes..How efficient he is, how perfectly he executes every task of his job. only does he seem different at times...
You're just so thoughtful it almost annoys him. You've already picked up on each and every one of his little habits; the way he likes his coffee, exactly when he takes his coffee breaks, where he usually hangs his freshly ironed jackets, where each piece of paperwork is kept in his office...
...Might be the old age but it makes him feel things when you knock on his door, when you greet him with the "Morning, Nanami-san, I sorted the documents from yesterday for you", or when you get his jacket for him without him even asking, with a sweet "Nanami-san, please don't forget your umbrella tomorrow, it's going to be rainy."
You're the only one who's allowed to adjust his tie when it's a bit loose, the only one allowed to lay your hands on his chest and fix his collar -breathing in the scent of his colone along the way-, the only one igniting his primal desire despite his exhausting life.
Might be the old age but he certainly wishes he could get this kind of treatment at home as well. He's rather lonely, overworked and tired whenever he gets back to his empty apartment..
Wouldn't it be better if you were the one to bake his fresh bread and prepare his delicious sandwiches for him? Give him a kiss before he heads to work and send him pictures of your legs spread with one of his designer ties barely covering your pussy?
Wouldn't it be so much better if he came back to strip you naked and take a steamy shower with you? push you on his king-sized bed to devour your sex, then have you all prepped and pretty to take his cock?
He'd be so happy with any of that, so happy he's now stroking himself and fondling his balls, trying his best to picture the way your tits pressed on his chest in the cramped elevator yesterday.
He knew your birthday was coming up but you never thought he'd even remember something so seemingly 'irrelevant' to him. So you didn't expect to find a luxurious box delievered to your doorstep, with a handwritten wishcard that had a familiar scent to it.
A note saying "wear them with your black heels, it'd look perfect" was inside the box, signed with a beautiful -Kento- on the corner...
---
"Nanami-san, your morning coffee." You greeted him with a smile the next day, leaning down as you gently posed the cup next to him.
"Nanami-san, I'm wearing your gift for my birthday. And the fabric feels so soft on me..."
a large hand pulled you back by the arm as you were about to walk off..
"Don't go there, sweet cheeks. you know I'll ruin you.."
"Then ruin me, Kento..."
I'll be at my desk if you ever need me."
You closed the door behind you, flashing him an innocent smile on the way...
---
Nanami san was missing at work that evening, secretary y/n was not there either. But thankfully your coworkers didn't know the reason behind your absence..
Nanami is busy training your throat in his spacious apartment. Your ass is on the cold floor tiles, body stripped to the lacy lingerie he bought you, caged between the wall and his lower half as he goes balls deep in your throat.
His tie is leashed around your neck with his leg pushing between your thighs, the tip of his expensive leather shoe bumping against your tiny clit.
"How much did this pussy think of me, hmm? does she like my shoe kissing her? playing with her?"
His leg presses harder, your eyes cross in pleasure as you suffocate on his veiny length..
"Look down princess, she's dirtying herself, drooling on my shoe.."
he frees himself from your mouth, leaving you with a drooly tongue and snotty nose as you shiver under him.
"Nanami..my pussy wants you, put it in her..please!"
"Nasty minx." He flicks his tongue with a grin, tears his shirt open to reveal his broad shoulders and toned chest, then tirelessly lifts you on his biceps.
"Aww...I want her too, princess.."
he kisses you senseless, giving himself a few pumps before he splits you open.
He's fevereshly rammimg inside you..golden strands sticking to his sweaty forehead, blushy cheeks blooming and hazel eyes almost teary as he finally feeds the hunger for you..
"Y/n...I need a wife! I want you-fuck-" you hug on him tighter, pussy clenching at the way he growls it against your lips... he paints your stomach white, his embrace deliciously crushing your body.
---
...A few days later the rumors started circulating among the coworkers; Both y/n and Nanami suddenly started wearing rings around the same time, and Nanami's office door started getting double locked, too often...
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crushmeeren · 5 months
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♡ Master List Link
❥ Quickies with the MHA Boys
❥ Everyone involved in this work of fiction is 18+/aged up.
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♡ Bakugou Katsuki
Katsuki doesn’t mind quickies per se. He just has to be in the right mood for it. He’d much rather take his sweet time. Not wanting to rush, being able to relax afterwards — otherwise he’d rather just not have sex at all.
But there are times when he’s frustrated. When your schedules haven’t lined up, when you haven’t had sex in weeks — he gets pent up.
Katsuki’s the kind of guy who will lounge on your bed in just his tight black boxer briefs. Arms folded behind his head as he lazily waits for you to get out of the shower, because of course he’s aware the long lean line of his body will draw your eye.
He knows it also gives you the view that you’re unable to resist of his unreasonably toned arms, biceps flexing in an infuriatingly effortless display.
And of course, he remembers that you have to leave for work in less than 20 minutes. He just doesn’t give a single shit.
He’s been dreaming about your warm pussy sucking in his cock in all night and there’s not a chance in hell he’s letting you go until he fucks you silly.
So, when you finally exit the shower, he tilts his head and leers at your naked body as you drop your towel onto the bed. He urges you in a low, rasping voice to “come here baby,” sporting a wolfish grin that makes your insides twist.
What he wants is glaringly obvious. From the way he can’t keep his eyes off your tits to the way his arousal is obviously beginning to strain his briefs.
“Five minutes Katsuki, I’m serious.” You shoot him a pointed glare. He scoffs, rolling his eyes and gesturing you forward with a curl of his finger.
“As if I won’t have you cumming in less than two minutes.” The grin he levels you with is sharp at the edges.
Although, the man’s right to be confident. Much to your chagrin.
Katsuki will drag you onto the bed when you are within reaching distance. His dick’s already stiff and thick when he wiggles between your legs, yanking his briefs down to mid thigh and letting his cock bob free.
Admittedly, you’re turned on enough that he slides in with relative ease, even if it burns a tad, because let’s be real — he’s so hot you would take him any time, any place. No questions asked, even if you do keep that piece of information from him for fear of inflating his already mountain sized ego.
Katsuki will tug one of your legs up, hooking it over his shoulder. He’ll bend you in half and circle his fingers around your throat, applying pressure that’s just right, because he’s memorized all the spots that make you weak.
With precision, he wholly makes this quickie worth it. Katsuki has your toes curling, cheeks flushed so hotly it travels to your hairline. Choking on your own moans as you cum.
He does exceptionally well with the time limit, just as he does with everything else in his life. He pulls out, stroking his cock eagerly and cums all over your belly with a groan that leaks out between gritted teeth.
Almost exactly five minutes on the dot.
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♡ Kirishima Eijirou
Eijirou has the spirit of a happy, care free, lovesick golden retriever. So naturally, he loves physical touch.
He’s addicted to constantly being in your space. Hugging you, holding your hand, pulling you to sit on his lap, kissing you., etc.
And if we’re being honest, whenever he gets the chance, he’ll be inside you too. Stretching you out. Making you feel so good it melts your brain — if only because it makes him feel twice the amount of pleasure to you see come undone.
Needless to say, Eijirou enjoys quickies a fuck ton. He also is the sort of guy who gets literal heart eyes whenever you initiate one with him.
He’ll be relaxing on the couch, lost in some sort of video game when you snatch the controller out of his hands and place it out of his reach.
Eijirou sputters, glancing up at you in surprise. His startled expression turns to one of knowing when you straddle his lap. Your sundress bunches up and exposes the soft skin of your inner thighs in the process.
“I’ve got 10 minutes until I leave for my appointment. Wanna have sex, Ei?” You ask teasingly, a coy smile playing on your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, gently scratching your nails up and down the nape of his neck, a shiver wracking through the red head.
You swear if Eijirou had a tail it would be wagging. He moans lowly in his throat. Your light touch and filthy words are all it takes to get him hard, stiff cock pressing eagerly into your thigh.
“How could I ever say no to you gorgeous?” He beams at you with his sharp teeth, resting his hands your hips. You snicker, raising up a little so he can slid his shorts down enough to free himself — letting the waistband rest just under his balls.
He sneaks your panties to the side, rubbing precise, quick circles into your clit with his thumb. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, trying to hold in a whine.
He has mercy on you, gripping his shaft and parting your pussy with his cock until the head catches. You ease yourself down onto him until you’re fully seated in his lap, the easy slick glide of his cock stretching you out is delicious.
You both simultaneously breathe out a sigh of relief.
After that, he lets you ride him until you’re sweaty and satiated. He praises you sweetly, holding your waist with a tight grip and helping you bounce.
“That’s it baby, take what you need. I’m right here, I’ve got you. Love it when you cum for me, so pretty” he coos, voice tender and adoring.
It’s effortless to cum like that, face buried in his shoulder while you rock back and forth in his lap. Letting him hug you tightly to his chest.
Once you come back down to earth, you check for the time, noticing you’ve only got a meager two minutes left.
You taunt Eijirou with the time limit, telling him it’s his turn to cum unless he was planning on taking care of himself.
He snaps his hips upwards in shallow thrusts, chasing his own pleasure desperately. Kissing you to keep himself from biting marks into your neck.
You’re only running a couple minutes late when you go, leaving Eijirou a sticky, gooey mess on the couch.
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♡ Todoroki Shouto
Shouto, he’s, well — a mix of the two really. He enjoys taking his time, but he also cannot keep himself out of your bubble.
One of Shouto’s absolute favorite past times is cuddling with you. He’s a bit touch starved and he’s aware of it, embracing it with no shame.
He just loves the coziness of your body, the way you fit like a missing puzzle piece into his toned chest. The tender kisses he can trail across your neck and the ones you give him in return.
That’s why Shouto takes immense pleasure in those honey coated, sweet and warm, limbs riddled with sleep morning quickies.
He can’t resist the temptation.
You’ll hear Shouto’s piercing alarm go off in the morning, jostling you from your dreams. The sheets rustle as Shouto maneuvers to turn off his alarm.
Your lids are droopy, and your limbs lag by a couple seconds when you turn over to cling to him.
You sprawl out half way on top of his chest and you slip your arms around his neck, nuzzling his utterly too warm left shoulder.
“Sho,” you mumble in his ear, voice rasp and faint. He snakes an arm around your waist, tugging you closer when you brush your lips over his cheek, and he subconsciously leans into your touch.
“Mm?” The noise he makes rumbles in his chest.
“I want you before you go, please,” you plead softly, kissing along his jawline. He squeezes you tighter briefly, responding without a trace of hesitation.
“Turn over baby, I’ll have to make it quick.”
So, you shift around until you’re on your side. Back facing Shouto as he scoots in close, wiggling down until his forehead rests at the back of your neck.
He shoves the large T-shirt you’re wearing up to your ribs, finger tips tickling the ridges of bone on his way back down. He smoothes his hand over your bare ass and squeezes until your breath hitches in your throat. Shouto smacks your ass playfully.
Automatically you lift your thigh and Shouto grips underneath it to keep it in that position, shifting his legs until he’s got the right angle.
The silky, warm skin of his full cock slides along the lips of your pussy and you jolt. He must’ve gotten rid of his briefs at some point.
Shouto shift his hips, pressing the head of his cock to you, rocking his hips unhurriedly until he’s sliding in and out to the root with each thrust.
You were already crying out his name, white knuckling the sheets when only half his cock had been worked inside you. Now each thrust knocks the breath from your chest.
“Is this what you needed Angel?” Shouto pants hotly against your neck. “Your pussy feels incredible,” he moans, the sound pushing the edge of a whine.
You can’t speak, still halfway asleep as Shouto takes you with powerful and deliberate thrusts.
He repeatedly presses into your g-spot as your climax builds gradually. It’s like a faucet sluggishly dripping warm water into a cup until it fills to the brim and overflows through your veins.
It doesn’t take long for Shouto to cum after you clench him like a vice.
He presses in until his balls are flush against your skin, biting harshly into the back of your shoulder blade with a breathy moan. That will definitely leave a mark.
“I love you,” Shouto murmurs, planting a kiss to your cheek after he helps you get clean enough to fall back asleep.
You’re out like a light before you hear the door shut, hoping Shouto makes it to the agency on time.
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reshinless · 10 months
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☆ ❝ 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? ❞ ⋆ hsr x reader
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synopsis. whenever he wants to taste you so bad ...
warnings. cervix eating, afab!gn!reader, face sitting, dom!character, they/them pronouns are used on reader, squirting (done by reader), overstimulation, fingering
author's note. just finished a documentary on a serial killer then wrote an essay with my own free will
pairings. dan heng, blade, luocha, jing yuan, sampo, welt, caelus x afab!gn!reader / fem!reader (take this however you like because i still use they/them on reader but they're afab :p)
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dan heng is just messy asf, like probably his first time too, never really has had gotten the chance to ever eat anyone out. kind of was too busy to do that. but when you offered, he couldn't help but think of how you'd be straddled atop his chest, and his tongue just went deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole, and honestly would slurp your aftermath all up after with no shame. the loud sounds of him licking up all your cum didn't help the embarassment. but he pushed his thoughts away and finally got you straddled onto his face, and pleasure was all that was on his mind. the taste of your sweet honey just made him wanna indulge so much deeper inside you. your velvety walls clenching around his snake-like tongue was a good enough sign he'd get to taste such sweet bliss again.
type of guy to overstimulate the hell outta you just for all that essence. he has never tasted anything better. probably would finger you while you sit on the motel bed you rented for a few measly 10 thousand credits. becomes so greedy when his mouth is finally latched onto your hole just begging for you to come. after a while of eating you out, he'll just know where your g-spot is, would go so far to even say his tongue memorized it, and the taste. and he just can't get enough of it. and after everyday as your trailblazing mission is ongoing, whether you'd be away from him at the moment or just right beside him, he already misses you and your pussy so much :(
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caelus is def a big sweetheart about it. even though you think he wouldn't be the one to ask, he would. "hey i've been a little stressed lately, can you.. sit on my face and let me treat you right?", and can't help but be a little messy with it, when you finally are on top of him. your hole is right there, wet and ready for him. he's still so blushy, shy and nervous about it. but as soon as he gets a taste of such bliss, he can't help but get more, and more, and more. as soon as he felt your cum on his tongue he couldn't help but want more! he doesn't mean to overstimulate you :(( he just wants more of that tasty sweetness!
does it after trailblazing missions specifically, his thoughts do lowkey get to him while on the job, probably jerked off to the idea of eating you out, or you giving him a blowjob, but that's another story, for another day, not tomorrow, not the day after, some day. anyways, he definitely likes the idea of doing it publicly, the adrenaline of someone catching you in the bathroom with your boyfriend's mouth filled with lust and hunger, he'd keep going if that ever happened, literally just wants everything we can harvest out of you. at first he does like to tease with a bit of fingering and kitty licks while you're blindfolded. your thighs slowly choking him is such a relieving feeling to him, he can't wait to feel that exotic bliss on his tongue.
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cw: public-ish sex
sampo will not hesitate to tease the living hell out of you, does it everyday, and any day. and is not shameful at all, will ask you to sit on his face with confidence. after all the teasing is over though he will be messy with it. lowkey wants you to fuck his face with your pussy slowly because it feels that good. his nose literally covered in your wetness because of how deep his tongue is in, or how your forcing his face to get closer, as you're ab to cum!! also the kind of guy to finger you while he eats you out.
loves doing it in an alleyway in belobog especially. just indulging the hell outta your pussy while others just watch as he marks what's clearly his. his gloved finger so deep inside you, so deep inside your pussy and he just had to have such long and slender fingers, as he kept licking your blushing clit, and he couldn't help but moan into your pussy too <33 the vibrations just sent all the more pleasure into you. after that, he'll forcibly grab your thighs and put them atop his shoulders as he also sat you down on 2 small boxes stack on each other and eats you out even more. not afraid at all to overstim your poor hole. but how can he resist such ethereal tasting bliss of yours? it tasted so good he just couldn't get enough!
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welt is very straightforward. only word that comes to mind, no shame, maybe a bit, but will ask you himself with pleasure to ask you to sit ontop of his face, or at least just let him eat you out. he's been so stressed after that trailblazing mission.. he's just gotta eat somethingg.... and you can't deny him forever so one thing led to another, he's ravaging in the taste of your hole, god.. why was it just so fucking addicting? the sticky taste of the sweet little honey you produced made him wanna cum, he is indeed stroking his cock as he eats you out, he's just that kind of guy!!
more into doing it in private, prefers that only he hears how good his tongue makes you feel. so long, and it just felt so good, his nose getting covered in the sticky essence, he didn't care anymore, he just wanted more and more. but would probably ask you if he can overstimulate you more LOL. if himeko like ever just comes in without knocking, he'll literally growl, and she'll be out in a jiffy, just.. can't get the image of a hungry welt eating his s/o's pussy like a homeless man who hasn't ate in days... is just certainly shocked, calm, collected, and cool; welt yang, was so easily undone and broken by his s/o('s taste yum yum yum)..
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jing yuan has no mercy at all, and will ask you so nonchalantly, "hey, can you sit on my face i'm kinda stressed ;(" is the first text you see when opening your phone. is this really the dozing general of luofu.. asks you so many times actually, like when he's bored and lazing around he'll just ask you to sit on his desk while he eats you out. but dear fucking god— whenever you just came all over his tongue, why the hell did that taste so damn good?? so good he would literally eat you out everyday if he could just to have that 'snack'. and he wouldn't want anyone else's, yours was special, that's what he said. and honestly i see him to be the type that his eyes glow when he gets closer to his climax, and he is another one of the cock stroking while eating you out gang!!
whatever anyway, he'll pound the hell out of your pussy after anyway, don't worry! it's just 'till you can't move a damn muscle in your legs, kind of guy to just want to hold you down by your hips, or the plush of your thighs, he just wants you to hold still while he drinks the devil's wine. if he isn't stroking his cock while he eats you out, his hard cock will just be out in the open while he fingers and eats you out too <3. eats you out like a snack literally sometimes, because he acts like he didn't just eat you out half the time. like after getting you cleaned up and everything, he literally would just start asking "you want anything for dinner?", "huh? it's 1pm in the afternoon jing yuan—"
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blade is really rough when eating you out. messy and rough. type of guy to softly bite on your clit/really rub his tongue against that spot tbh HLP.. overall is confident, "hey babe can i eat you out rq im aboutta go out" "huh??". has your legs on his shoulders and roughly brings your hole to his mouth, all that juice on his tongue is really what makes him distracted from anything else, like even if anyone were to walk in on you both, he wouldn't care, your sultry moans and you cumming all over his face is all that mattered. will finger you and eat you out because he likes it when you squirt your cum out, is in love with the idea. and right after probably would put you into a mating press and insert his dick so smoothly inside there <3
the type to say i'll wash you up after eating you out but ends up having sex in the shower and literally pounds the shit out of your hole.. again.. in the bed this time.. he gives the first impression of high sex drive, breeding kink blade, what can i say? anyways, will just be so glad to slurp all your cum up after, in love with the scent, smell, taste, anything about you, and he'd gladly say it out loud. just keep cumming all over his face when he eats you out and little bladies will be running everywhere :0
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luocha, even if he is a doctor of some sort, he is either so vanilla with it, just a few kitty licks and fingering you, or rough as fuck and messy, no in between because it's either he's gonna make you cum all over his face or cream on his face, doesn't want anything in between. will be glad to finger you if he feels like he wants your cum to just squirt everywhere, mmm just sit on his face and let him do the rest. doesn't care if his hair gets messy, doesn't care if he's supposed to be somewhere right now, he just wants more of this.. essence. whatever it is, he wants more. and won't be pleased if he hasn't milked you of all of it.
doesn't care if anyone decides to walk in on you both either, but that doesn't mean he prefers public sex. just prefers these moments to just him and you. probably also has a breeding kink. while he fingers you, right before he indulges himself in you, and gets too lost and drunk on the taste, he's already daydreaming of mini versions of him and you. loves the idea sm<33 and is glad you are pleased by the idea too!! so he hopes you don't mind his rock hard cock will pound you after a few 7 rounds of eating you out! just for you <3
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can't take the word pussy seriously had to replace it with hole for that and because i want this to be for everyone/every reader!!
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lemonlover1110 · 10 months
Text
𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒
Suguru Getou
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Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader
Summary: Suguru needs your help to help him focus on studying again.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Praising, Vaginal Sex, Creampie
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Suguru loves to go to you for help, even if it’s a subject he understands better than anyone. You talk so sweetly to him, explaining the topic that’s at hand very patiently. He’s lucky he asks about subjects that he already knows because otherwise, he wouldn’t know a damn thing. He keeps staring at you, focusing on your face and on your body as you speak, eyes occasionally shifting to the bed that’s in the room.
“Focus, Suguru.” You call him out, not wanting your friend to fail his exam. You notice that he isn’t listening, staring at the bit of cleavage that your top allows. He isn’t listening, forcing your hand to go under his chin, moving his head to look at your face. “Focus. You’re not learning.”
“I don’t think I will focus.” He confesses, and you purse your lips together. He licks his lips, relaxing on the chair. “I need your help.”
“And what do you want me to do, Suguru?” You ask, letting go of him. He stands up from the chair, a sly smirk on his face. You immediately know what he’s thinking of, and you roll your eyes. You grab his hand, guiding him to the bed.
“It seems like you already know what to do.” He answers. It’s not the first time that Suguru comes to you, pleading for help for his class– The first time around, he actually needed help, and you ended up making out on your bed. Ever since, he comes around to ask for your help, and he doesn’t end up learning anything, instead, he ends up between your legs or on your bed. Well… Maybe he does learn something new, but not academically.
“You’re going to fail.” You tell him, but it goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t care if he fails, his mind is elsewhere. His hands go to your waist, his lips going to yours. His tongue enters your mouth, his fingers going under your shirt and touching your skin. You give in to the kiss, your hands going behind his head and pulling him in. 
His hands go to the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up. You help him take it off and he unhooks your bra, tossing it elsewhere. He kisses your lips and kisses down your neck. He reaches your breasts, his tongue circling around your nipple before his mouth wraps around it. His fingers begin to play with your other nipple, while his free hand goes to unbutton your pants. 
“Suguru…” Your voice is barely audible as you say his name, but he knows that by the end of the night that’ll change. He detaches himself from your tit, putting you down on the bed. He takes off your pants, leaving you with your cute little pink panties.
He admires the scene for a moment, and he wishes he could take a picture so he could look back at it whenever he’s feeling… excited. He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip while he begins to tease you through your panties.
He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers running through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You moan against his lips as his fingers make you feel so good. He gets his fingers wet enough before pushing two inside your cunt. He’s learned how to make you weak with his touch as he slowly gets to know every inch of your body. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
Suguru pulls his fingers out, pulling away from your lips. You sit up to better watch him get undressed, and when he’s completely bare, he pushes you down on the bed again. He grabs your legs, and they wrap around his waist while the tip of his cock runs through your folds.
He slowly pushes himself in, shutting his eyes as he feels your warm cunt wrap around him. You softly moan as he fills you up. His fingers really are nothing compared to this. Suguru gives you a moment to adjust to his size, his hands going to your waist. 
“Fuck… Your pussy is so perfect.” He says under his breath, slowly beginning to move. You act annoyed when he can’t focus, but you love it. This is much better than trying to explain any subject to Suguru– A subject he so clearly knows. Suguru’s cock hits all the right spots, bringing you immense pleasure. “You’re so perfect.”
“Suguru…” One hand goes down to play with your clit, your back arches. His nails dig into your skin, as he slowly picks up speed. He leans down, his lips entrapping yours, his tongue moving swiftly into your mouth to press against your own.
You begin to squeeze around him, your climax approaching after being worked up by Suguru. He moans into your mouth, driving you wild. He bites down on your lip before pulling away, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
His cock continues hitting all the right spots as he picks up the pace, and your high approaches rapidly. You see white, loudly moaning his name as your orgasm overtakes you. His nails dig deeper into your skin, surely to leave deep marks after he’s finished.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, thrusts slowly becoming sloppy, and his breathing unregulated. You work him up so much that he’s almost disappointed at how fast he finishes with you. 
He moans your name before releasing his cum inside of you, completely filling you up with his seed. He gives a couple more gentler thrusts before pulling out of you. He lays down beside you, and you take a moment to breathe. Until you speak up,
“Now, can you focus?”
3K notes · View notes
f1fantasys · 2 months
Text
FUCK (literally and metaphorically)
Summary - exes who get back together, leading to A LOT of smut.
Warnings : Smut, swearing, minors DNI, fingering, p in v sex, anal, oral sex - both male and female receiving.
4.8 K
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You and Lando had been dating on and off few about 2 years now. It started off as friends with benefits - neither of you were able to put in the time and effort for a relationship because of his f1 and your modeling career - so it was just hook ups for a quick fuck whenever you were free and in the same country. Obviously though, feelings were soon coming in strong for the both of you, so you became official for a bit, until it was becoming too difficult, so you mutually broke it off. Until you found your way into each others beds more often then not. So it really was like a game of running around in circles.
You had last seen Lando 2 months ago, before he jetted to Asia and USA for his races, where you 'broke up' again. You'd told him that that was the last time, and that you both seriously needed to move on from each other. It was hard, you wont lie - the both of you full of emotions and not wanting to let go - but it was also for the best. Your careers were too demanding.
Last night though - he texted you.
In town for a bit, staying at the lake house with my parents for the weekend. Wanna come over tomorrow night? They'll be out.
Lan.. you started replying but he was quick to send another text.
I know what we said last time, but I really need to fucking see you
Okay, what time?
Say 10? Bring swim clothes
You just reacted to his message with a heart.
You were a mess today. Why were you so nervous to see him?
Maybe because you didn't want to walk away? Didn't want to have to leave him again?
You wore a skimpy red bikini and threw on a pair of denim shorts and tank top. The drive to the lake house was not far from yours - so you got there in good time.
You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door. Holding in a breath and you knocked.
''It's open'' you heard him say.
You pushed the door open and there he was. Standing in the kitchen in nothing but his swim shorts, opening a bottle of wine, sending you his deliciously handsome smile.
''There she is'' he said, putting the wine down and coming up to you before pulling you in for a tight hug.
You responded immediately to his touch. It instantly calmed you down and took the nerves away. This was your Lando - how could you be nervous about him, you thought to yourself.
''Hey Lan'' you breathed out.
He pulled back and looked at you, eye wandering between your own eyes and your lips.
But he couldn't hold back anymore. He crashed his lips to yours as he picked you up by your thighs and set you on the counter. His lips were sloppy and messy against yours, which had you moaning into the kiss. Lando took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You ran your hands along his bare back as he lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot.
''Lan'' you panted.
''Missed you so fucking much this time'' he whispered, slowly peeling your top of of you.
''I missed you too'' you couldn't help but mutter between breathes.
''Fuck'' he said before pulling back. He must have seen the worried look so he quickly smirked at you. ''The nights' gonna end here and now if we carry on. Wine?''
You smiled back. ''Please''
He poured you both a glass before you went to sit outside. It was sort of chilly, so he had a fire going as well as the hot tub bubbling away.
''In or out?'' he asked, pointing at the hot tub.
''Hmmm, out for now'' you said.
You both took a seat and gazed up at the sky, just listening to nature, and happy to be in each others' presence.
''Soooo'' he started. ''How have you been. We actually didn't even catch up this time.''
''I know. But I've been good. I guess. Busy. Work's great.'' you looked at him as you continued- ''Missed you though. Been miserable without you''
Without any hesitation he pulled your chair close to his and interlocked your hands together.
''I've been thinking..'' he paused for a few seconds. ''About us. I hate being away from you. Not being able to text and call whenever i want. Not being able to kiss you when i want. I want to put in the effort to make us work. I want all of you, y/n''
You gasped at his admission. A bittersweet feeling washing over you. He was saying everything you've wanted him to say. But is it worth the risk? Getting back together, for real, and then having the risk of heart break when things don't work out.
Lando bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles when you didn't respond straight away. But something in the way he was looking at your tonight made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. That there would be no heartbreak. You held on to that piece of hope.
''I want all of you too Lan. I want us to work, more than anything'' you pleaded back to him.
He smiled and pulled your whole body onto his lap, kissing you hard and deep. ''Just need to communicate, yeah?'' you nodded in response. ''And be honest with each other'' you added.
''Hmm mm'' he said, kissing you again. This time slow and sensual, still deep enough to make you see stars.
''You're mine forever, y/n. Never forget that'' he whispered.
''All yours Lan, always'' you said, peeling your top off for the second time tonight.
Lando gently stood up, lifting you with him, before stepping into the hot tub, lowering you down back on his lap, all the while his lips never left yours.
Things quickly turned heated, physically and metaphorically. The hot tub was steaming, already breaking a sweat on your faces. And your actions - well anytime the two of you were joined together, it was hot.
Lando's kisses became erratic, desperate. He was kissing, sucking, nipping, soothing every inch of your face and neck while all you could do was moan and pull on his hair, edging him on to give you more.
Your skimpy red bikini top was soon untied and ripped off of you, revealing your perky boobs and taunt, pink, hard nipples. You didn't miss how Lando's eyes turned a shade darker.
He lowered his mouth and began his onslaught on them. Sucking and biting at them relentlessly, over stimulating you.
''Lan, oh my god, slow down'' you panted, pulling harder at his hair so he'd get the hint. But of course he didn't. He was for sure leaving purple bruises for tomorrow, not showing any mercy.
He finally pulled back for air, but that didn't stop his fingers from sliding into your bikini bottoms to cup your sex. The movement had you jolting. He was the last person - besides yourself - to touch you there, and that was over two months ago. So to finally feel what-or who-you've craved so much of, sent your spiraling and reacting instantly.
He spoke with a teasing tone. '''Fuck, y/n. Already this wet. For me?'' he asked smirking at you, gliding his fingers through your folds.
''Fuck you Lan'' you teased back.
''Baby. You're gonna fuck me. My fingers. Now.'' he said, lining two finger up at your entrance, not pushing in yet though. You gave him a confused look when he stopped. But just chuckled. ''Fuck my fingers, y/n''
Something clicked in you and you finally got the hint. You quickly lowered your self on his fingers. The stretch burning you, but nearly not enough to what you craved.
''That's it. So tight and slick for me'' Lando said as he pulled your face down to lock lips once again.
You set a brutal pace, chasing the high that you needed, while Lando added a third finger to the mix, also finding your clit with his thumb.
''Lando, I'm close'' you moaned into the kiss. He didn't reply verbally though. He just curled his fingers at just the right moment, rubbing them against the spongy spot in your cunt, which sent you trembling over the edge.
Your orgasm left you body hard and fast, shaking while Lando held you in his arms, slowing his fingers, riding you through the intensity. You groaned his name, squeezing his biceps as you let your juices release on his fingers.
The two of your just embraced each other for a few minutes, before Lando carefully slid his fingers out of you and lifted you out the water to sit on the ledge with just your legs staying in the water.
The cool air of the night hardened your nipples and raised goosebumps on your skin as Lando pushed you back to lie down, as he stepped in between your legs and spread them apart.
He took your bikini bottoms off and threw them to the side. Now your cunt was on full display. He reached forward and licked the cum that was still dripping out of you. The feeling of his tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you latch onto his hair again.
''Hmm Lan, more. Please'' you begged.
His slow pace was soon replaced with a series of ferocious licks and sucks, his mouth lapping at your cunt as if he were starved - which he would argue he is.
''So fucking delicious babygirl, missed my favorite taste'' he murmured before continuing his activity.
You opened your legs further, giving him better access. He added a finger to play as well, and within minutes you felt that all too familiar warmth start to build up in your stomach. All it took was one bite of your clit between Lando's teeth and you violently came all over his face.
''Fuck y/n, that was a load full. So fucking sexy'' he commented, making sure to swallow all that you gushed his face with.
He sat back down and pulled your jelly-like body onto his lap again. The warm waster soothing your aching pussy that was still throbbing.
Lando took your face in his hands and peppered you with feather like kisses. His finger stopped at your mouth and you took it in without hesitation. Suck at it, eyes not leaving his.
You suddenly whined, an urge to taste him over coming you.
''Lan, need to taste you. Please'' you said, already climbing off him and pulling his shorts off underwater.
But he stopped you. ''Later. First need to fill you up. Need to feel you around me. Please y/n.''
Your brain short circuited as soon as the words left his mouth. As you forgot how much you wanted needed him in you.
You were quick to climb onto his lap again, this time his dick was rubbing against your inner thigh, feeling hard and hot.
You took him in your hands, pumping him a few times as he moaned your name.
''Oh y/n. Fuck.''
You giggled at him. You'd hardly touched him and he was putty in your hands, pulling at your hair now.
''Laugh at me again and I won't let you cum'' he said, very matter of factly, though his smirk told you a different story.
''Oh yeah?'' you teased, lifting yourself up slightly and running his cock through your folds.
''Babygirl you'll be the death of me''
''Hmmm mm'' you mumbled, already distracted by feeling him on your most sensitive parts.
Lando took your face in his hands again. He kissed you, his tongue sliding back in and then sucking harshly on your tongue. ''Gonna ride me yeah? Fuck me til you're screaming my name?''
''Lan'' you breathed. Your cunt clenching desperately, needling to feel him now.
He took his dick out of your hands and lined himself up at your entrance.
In one swift movement you sank down on him. He filled you up to the brim. You sat still, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, the stretch was sore, but in seconds the pleasure over came you and you began to move.
Lando's hands settled at your waist, his touch light, as he let you set the pace. Your hands found his hair again, pulling at it as you rode him.
''So fuckin tight for me angel. That's it baby, fuck me harder'' he mumbled between breaths.
By now all coherent thoughts had left your mind. All you could do was moan his name, chant it through gritted teeth, as your movements became faster and faster.
You don't think you'd ever ridden him - or anyone - this hard before. Your pace was brutal. You could feel him hitting just the right spots inside of you, and the water of the hot tub was splashing all over.
''Lan'' you moaned again, guiding his head to your boobs to let him suck softly on your nipples.
You were both so caught up getting lost in each other's bodies that you didn't hear the front door open and close, voices from inside the house muttering away.
That was until you heard Lando's mum speak.
''Lando? Are you outside honey?'' she called.
You both stopped in your tracks, movements coming to a halt.
You were so fucked out to react - to separate away from him, so you just sat still, his dick inside of you.
''Fuck'' he muttered.
''Yeah mum, but I'm good. Go to bed'' he yelled back.
But of course, Cisca, oblivious to what was going on, had to come outside.
''Lan -'' She started but gasped when she saw you - your back to her.
You just hid your face in his neck, not sure you could even get a word out while still feeling him twitch in your cunt.
He let out a nervous chuckle. ''Mum'' he said, smiling at her.
She was dumbstruck, confused? You didn't know.
''It's just y/n, mum'' he said, trying to detactch yourselves but failing to do so.
''Y/n, good to see you. Uh, I'm gonna go inside. I'll see you later'' she said, as something must have clicked in her.
You heard the sliding door close and let out a breath of relief, looking back at the house, then back at Lando.
''Fuck me'' he said, eyes still watching his parents inside, who he could see were desperately trying to busy themselves and go upstairs.
''I kinda was until... how the fuck am I gonna face your parents now'' you pondered, slightly turned off at thinking about it.
''I don't know. We'll deal with it later. For now I need to feel you around me again'' he said, pulling out and pumping himself a few times.
Once he saw the lights downstairs were turned off and no Norris' were in sight, he man handled your body to bend over the sides of the hot tub.
Oh boy you thought to yourself, he's not gonna let you off easily now.
''Anal, yeah?'' he asked just as he lined his tip up with your hole.
All you could do was nod your head. It was new for the two of you, but it was something you only did a few times. You pushed your ass slightly in the air.
And he did. He slammed into you, causing you to let out a guttural moan. He was quick to cover your mouth with his one hand, while the other pulled at your hair.
''Have to be quiet, unless you want an audience'' Lando said through gritted teeth.
You didn't. So you muffled your moans into his hand.
He fucking into you so hard, with so much force, you weren't sure you would be able to walk after. But you didn't care. It felt amazing. He felt fucking amazing.
Not 5 minutes later and you whined. ''Need to come Lan, not gonna last long'' and before you could even finish your sentence, you gushed all over his cock. Your walls clenched around him, throbbed around him.
''Jesus, fuck, y/n, so tight''
You'd think he'd slow his movements and ride you through your orgasm, but this was Lando Norris. Of course he continued to fuck into you with no mercy.
You were sure you would black out if he didn't slow down soon. ''Lan, too much'' you mumbled.
He suddenly pulled out of you and turned out body around so you could took at each other.
''Want me to stop?'' he asked, smirking.
And fuck no, you did not want him to stop. The way your pussy was clenching around nothing sent your body into overdrive. You needed to feel him fill you up again.
You didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so you bit your lip and he couldn't help but laugh at your antics.
''Thought so'' he said, before thrusting back into your normal entrance, very quickly setting a pace that had you seeing stars, while his hands settled on your boobs and fondled with them.
''Lan'' you whined again.
''Doing so good for me princess. So fucking good. Taking me to well.''
You could feel Lando's girth twitching inside of you, his movements getting sloppier by the second.
''Fuck, so close y/n. Together, yeah babygirl?'' he asked.
You nodded again, unable to form any words. He bought his hand up to wipe at the tears that were leaving your eyes.
''Almost there my love. Keep going'' he encouraged you.
''Lan I'm - '' but you were cut off by Lando pinching you clit, your orgasm washing over you which had your body jittering and shaking once again, unable to control yourself. And just at the same time you felt him shoot ropes and ropes of hot cum deep within you. His own body shuddering and whines and moans leaving his mouth.
He pulled your body back into the water to settle above him, dick still inside you, softening quickly.
You slumped forward on him, and he rested his arms on the back of the hot tub, both gasping for air, a thick sheet of sweat plastered on both your faces.
''Fucking hell. That was incredible y/n.'' he said he lifted your head to look at you. His eyes were still shades darker than usual.
You still couldn't form any words, so you smiled sheepishly at him.
''I love you'' he whispered.
Now all the air had left your lungs. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but something about the way he said it now had reignited all the butterflies in your tummy.
You tears had now returned, so he gently kissed them away before settling his lips on yours, kissing you softly.
''I love you too'' you whispered back, in between kisses.
''Let's get cleaned up yeah? Cuddles after?'' he asked, knowing what your answer would be. It was always cuddles after sex, no matter what.
Lando carried you out he water and made a beeline for his room upstairs, hoping everyone was asleep, since you were both butt naked.
Lando placed you on his bed and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you whining for him.
''Baby I'm back just went to get a warm cloth. He spread your legs apart, fully intending you just clean you up, but his brain nearly short circuited when he saw cum still leaking out of you - more so at the thought of his cum leaking out of you.
He bent down and as gently as he could- because he knew you were over stimulated- he licked a strip up your cunt, collecting as much cum as he could.
You gasped and jumped at the feeling, not expecting it at all.
''Lando! - '' but before you could even continue talking his hand hallowed your cheeks to pry your mouth open and the cheeky bastard let his cum drip from his own mouth down into yours.
You moaned, making sure to swallow every last drop, before he reached down and interlocked your lips once again.
''Dirty'' you chuckled, in between kisses.
''Hmm. Couldn't help it'' he mumbled, and after a while, he did eventually clean you up and spoon you from behind, the both of you drifting into an easy slumber.
You woke to the sun blazing on your body, strring sightly, forgetting where you were until you felt someone pull you closer.
Then it dawned on you - you were with Lando, and apparently back together with him, for real this time?
You could hear his soft snored so you gently turned your body to face his.
He looked angelic. Face contorted in a deep sleep still, mouth slightly agape, blowing cool air onto your own face.
Although you didn't want to wake him, you couldn't help but place a soft kiss on his lips.
You stayed staring at him, admiring him, for god knows how long, until he starting speaking, making you jolt at being caught.
''You're staring'' he mumbled.
''I'm gazing'' you cooed back.
''It's creepy''
''It's romantic''
Lando's eyes flew open and he immediately started tickling you all over.
''Lando! Stop!'' you shrieked.
''Romantic, huh? That's not how you rode me last night'' he smirked, settling his weight on top of you.
''Fuck you'' you mumbled, pulling him by his hair to connect your lips.
''Wrong. You want me to fuck you again, don't you?'' he asked, a knowing smile on his face.
You couldn't help but blush at his words, because, of course you wanted to fuck again.
But first, you wanted something else.
You pushed Lando back to lie on his back and threw your legs over him so you were now sitting on his stomach.
You very quickly noticed the slick dripping out of you. ''Someone's already so wet for me'' he firmly said.
''Shut up'' you replied, as you leaned down to kiss him again, rough and hard this time. You tongue slipping into his mouth for once, earning the sexiest moans from him.
You sucked on his bottom lip for some time until you felt his dick against your ass. Standing angry and tall, hard as rock.
You slid your hand back to pump him while you continued to kiss him, eventually bringing your lips to his neck to leave a few marks for him.
He started twitching in your hand, letting out more moans and a ''fuck, y/n, please'' bit of begging from him.
You made your way down to his nipples, sucking on each of them, biting them, then soothing them with your tongue, all the while you eyes remained locked on his.
Finally though, you slid down enough to see his cock standing in front of your eyes.
He already had pre-cum leaking from the slit, and the thick vein on the underside was protruding dramatically.
''Someones eager'' you threw his words back at him.
''Uh fuck please, please do something'' he begged again.
So you did. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucked at it, hard, swallowing the salty pre-cum.
He hissed at the action. Hips bucking up unable to control himself.
Lando gathered all your hair and held it out of your face as you pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, deep throating him, instantly feeling him hit the back of your throat.
You pulled back for air, a string of spit still connecting your lips to his dick, so he couldn't help but pull you up for a quick kiss.
You pulled away quickly though, eagerly wanting to taste him.
He relaxed back and still help you hair with one hand, while his other rested behind his head.
Every few seconds he buck his hips up to go deeper inside of your mouth, causing you to gag and spring a few tears at the corners of your eyes.
''You're so fucking good at this baby. Best head ever.'' he managed between breaths.
Al you could do was hum at him. Soon his movements started to get sloppy and you could feel his dick twitching again. You knew he was close - so you did the one thing you knew would send him over the edge.
You sucked, hard on his tip again, and in no time he shot sheets of milky white cum down your throat, body shuddering. Listening to his moans had your pussy clenching around nothing, so you squeezed your thighs together as your rode him through his orgasm.
Eventually you pulled back. Your face was a mess. Tears stringing down your cheeks, slightly black with your eyeliner from last night, chin and chest slick with a mixture of sweat, spit and cum.
You breathlessly sat on his stomach again, but he quickly pushed you lower down so he could sit against the headboard and pull you closer.
Lando then began a serious of harsh licks off over your face and chin, chest as well, basically cleaning you up.
As he was doing that, you started to grind yourself against his thigh.
You were so wet already so you easily slid against him. rewarding him with harsh moans and grunts.
Once he 'cleaned you up'', Lando latched his mouth to your perky boobs again. You squirmed at the sensitivity until he started talking again.
''Baby, wanna fuck me again like last night? Ride me again? But this time no interruptions, yeah?''
His words had you dripping even more now. Your mind not being able to form any words. So you simply lifted your self up and lined his dick at your entrance. Then you sat. In one swift movement you sat down on him.
You didn't even give yourself any time to adjust. You very very quickly set a fast pace. Faster than last night if you could. You held his shoulders and gave him everything in you. Swift, quick movements of up and down.
''Oh Lan, yes. Feels so good;'' you mumbled, eyes rolling to back of your head.
''Shit'' he spat back, also not able to form any coherent thoughts. Just you riding him as if your life depended on it.
Within minutes your body was shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, and anyone im the room next door would definitely be able to hear you, but you didn't care. You couldn't even move, so Lando had to chase his own orgasm but jerking his hips up to meet yours, fucking you relentlessly.
''Fuck y/n, fuck. So good. So fuckin tight for me. Gonna fill you up now. Maybe fuck a baby into you, yeah? You want that?'' he asked, not fully releasing what he was saying. Not that you did either, but you reply to him was quick. ''Please Lan, use me was your whore. Give me a baby, fuck. Please fuck'' you said through gritted teeth.
Hearing you call yourself his whore, Lando immediately came inside of you. White cum painting your walls endlessly. His whole body shaking underneath yours.
You both stilled for a few minutes. Letting your breathing come down to normal (if it even could?), just basking in each others sweat and breath.
''Fuck me y/n'' Lando breathed out after a while.
You couldn't help but giggle.
''I just fucked you Lan, already want more?'' you teased.
''You're gonna fucking end me'' he said, pulling you in for a gentle kiss as you played with his curls.
You could feel his dick softening inside you, but as he tried to pull out you stopped him.
You made a shocked face. ''Lan. If you want that baby you'll have to push your cum further into me. Not pull out'' you said smirking.
His expression was priceless but so fucking cute you had to laugh at him.
''I-I'' you started but you cut him off.
''Lan relax, I'm joking. I do, definitely want a baby from you, one day. But for now, I'm on birth control..so we should be okay..I hope'' you said slowly, knowing it wasn't always 100% effective.
But you both just got into a fit of giggles thinking about what you said to each other in that moment.
Just as he started kissing you again, someone knocked on the other side of the wall.
''Hey lovebirds. Thank you so much for the wake-up call. I appreciate it. Oh and how was the hot tub last night?''
It was Flo, Lando's sister.
You both froze at her statement, faces going red and although you shouldn't be, shocked that she probably heard every single thing from this morning.
''Ummm heey Flo'' you chuckled nervously.
Authors note - hope you all enjoyed this. Maybe the most smut I've written? I think so. But I had fun. ALSO - did anyone peep the vampire diaries ref in there?
REQUESTS ARE OPEN.
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luveline · 4 months
Text
𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
When someone hurts you, you and Aaron both need time to get better, and to put things right. fem, 8k
cw canon typical violence, graphic scenes and imagery of assault/battery, recovery, mentions of being sick, issues eating. established relationship, lots of angst and comfort, hotch being vulnerable, jack being sweet 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
You lay backward over the luxurious stretch of the couch and sigh as your spine gives a sharp crick. Your head feels heavy after a long shower, your arms ache from a day at work, but the feeling of soft cotton on your legs deters any moping. 
I hope these are more comfortable, his note read, a white post it note stuck to a boutique bag. You wrap an arm around your waist remembering how Aaron’s message had made you feel: spoiled, and considered. 
You’d mentioned in passing that all your pyjamas are old and rough as a consequence, thought nothing of it, and promptly forgot about the conversation entirely. 
When Aaron finally comes home tonight, you’re going to give him a proper thank you. You can imagine his reaction to such a thing, his smile as he says it’s no problem, his eyes shuttering closed as you press a kiss to his cheek. You hadn’t realised how prevalent affection would become in your life after meeting him, but everything he does inspires love. Awful, soft, marshmallowy love where he looks at you and you want to sit in his lap. 
You slide your phone up your chest lazily and click the button on the side to light the display. Aaron hasn’t claimed to know when he’ll be home tonight. All he’d said was to let yourself in. 
It’s odd but not the worst thing in the world to be alone in his apartment. There’s less and less free space each time you visit as Jack begins to outgrow his and his fathers lodgings, but there’s never a stain or bad smell, the Hotchner apartment feels homey. You’re excited whenever you’re invited to spend the night with them. 
Maybe some time soon he’ll ask you to move in, or better, to marry him. You’re not a hundred percent sure how you feel about marriage, about being someone’s wife, but there’s a great well of pleasure to be found in the idea that Aaron would want to marry you. He makes you feel loved already in a hundred different ways but the ring might be nice, like a symbol to signify how much you mean to him. 
You rest your hand across your eyes. It’s silly to think of. Sillier to want so soon. You’ve been together for just under a year, and you have no false hopes about rushing into the future, but it’s certainly a future you want with him (and with Jack, too). He’s taking things slowly for a hundred different reasons but he loves you, and gifts like your new pyjamas cement that. He really listens to you. 
Your phone rings a moment later. 
You smile at the screen. It’s nice to be in love with someone who loves you too. 
“Hey,” Aaron says when you answer, his voice warm even through the phone, “I didn’t think you’d answer.”
“How come?” You sit up with a little start. 
“It’s getting late, honey. I called Jess and Jack was already gone.” He doesn’t say anything further. 
“Are you okay?” 
“I wanted to hear your voice, I think.” 
“Well, where are you?” You struggle to envision him speaking saccharinely like this where his colleagues could hear him. He’s nice to you often, but he’s a reserved man. 
“I’m just,” —a crunching sound of metal, the trunk of his car closing— “about to get in the car. I’ll be home before ten. Can I have you until then?” 
“I don’t see any reason to say no. But do you think you could come home a little faster? I have a crick in my neck.” 
“And you want me to fix that?” 
“You always fix my neck.” 
“How have you done it?” There’s a sound you assume to be the car door closing, but you can’t hear anything beyond that. 
“I have bad posture.” 
“You have perfect posture.” 
“No, it’s quite bad.”
He laughs loudly. It took some time to draw the humour from him but he isn’t as stony as you’d think, and for a while he didn’t have much worth laughing for, anyways. Whenever you hear it, you try to prompt it twice. 
“You don’t have to lie to me, Aaron, it’s just like when you said my weird rash wasn’t weird.” 
He laughs again, to your pleasure. “It wasn’t weird, it was a heat rash, I promise. You act like you’ve never seen heat rash.” 
“One of us goes to hot cities all the time and one of us lives permanently in Virginia.” 
“What are you talking about? Virginia’s far from cold. You’re being argumentative, I can see your smile in my head. I’m never going to fix your crick if you keep acting like that.” 
“No, don’t be like that,” you laugh, tipping back into the cushions. “You’re always such a sore loser.” 
“What did I lose?” 
You can tell from his tone that you’ve promised yourself one of those hugs that borders on a straight jacket tightness, his face tucked into your neck as he asks you to repeat yourself. What did I lose? he’ll ask again, kissing your chin, the line of your jaw. Tell me clearly.  
“It hurts,” you say honestly, “please don’t be mad. I really need one.” 
“I’m not mad… I’m going under the overpass, my signal might cut out.” 
“Okie dokie. Hey, did you eat? I can make you something for when you get home. I got groceries.” 
“I’m not hungry, but you can make yourself hot cocoa, and I’ll drink it when I get there,” he says. 
“Or I could make us both some?” 
“It’s much more fun if I drink yours before you can, honey. You know that—”
You pause in the quiet, then hear a quick beeping. You pull your phone from your ear and find the call disconnected. 
Cruel overpass, you think. 
Sure he’ll call you back, you take your phone into his kitchen and set about finding all the things you’ll need for hot cocoa. One mug, because you should hate when he forces you to share, but you love the feeling of his fingers on yours as he takes it and the thankful kiss he dots on your cheek. 
The kettle is uncomplicated. You toy with the stovetop, set the kettle on the burner, and let the temperature rise. It begins whistling lightly a mere thirty seconds later. 
You click your phone on again. He’ll have passed through the tunnel now and will be calling you back any minute. You stare at the phone, hoping to summon him, slouched over the counter with the tin of cocoa powder by your fingers. The kettle whines with growing heat, but cool air kisses your back. 
Goosebumps rise. Up and down the lengths of your arms, the back of your neck—
A sudden chill. 
The lack of air comes before the hand, the pain a rush, a burst to be away from. Leather on your neck creaking without sympathy as a hand tightens and drags your body back against something hard. 
Not Aaron. Your scream comes strangled under cruel fingers as you fight to move forward again, straight for the burner, the kettle shoved across the burner grate and exploding with scalding water, heat of the burner kissing your chest— you scream, only it’s worse than a scream, sound from the deepest part of you forcing itself past the heat at your neck as you try to fling yourself away from the pain. 
You fall with a hard clout. “Stay still!” comes out enraged against the back of your neck. You drop to your knees, the pain lighting flaring up your chest, your gaze frantic as you search for a flame that isn’t there. You’re not on fire, you’re crawling and then scampering up into a standing position when the heavy weight drops itself on you again and smashes your face into the floor. 
All your fight leaves you. Your ears ring. Your panic wanes but the pain stays alert in your mouth. 
A hand grabs you by the back of the head and drives your face into the ground. It’s like light in your eyes and your nose, the brunt of it, the crack of your bone and the hot trickle of blood that swiftly follows. You gurgle in pain, spluttering and gagging against the linoleum, waiting for Aaron to turn you over and say sorry. It’s an accident.
Blood drains from your nose in spurts to match your racing pulse, so much blood you can see your eyes reflected in the dark stretch of it. Water drips down the front of the stove, your breath aches and begs, and your attacker takes a measured breath. 
He flips you over. You can’t slide away, there’s nothing left in you, your head a second body as he raises something. 
Your phone rings on the counter. 
“Please, don’t,” you plead with a sob.
You pass out as the pain connects. Just as quickly as it started, your body takes the reins. 
There’s a strange darkness waiting for you. Like waking before your alarm and stealing those last minutes, body aching, not wanting to get up and face the day. Aaron gets up early every morning, sometimes as early as four AM, and whenever you get up with him your eyes hurt for hours. 
Nothing, nothing, nothing. 
Hey, hey, I think your boyfriend’s coming.
What will he make of my handiwork?
You didn’t stay awake long enough for that one, did you? But you’re waking up now.
The pain is enough to wake you up again, a hot drag down the side of you to your hip and in. You aren’t aware of the sounds you make, but you can hear them. Your panicked squealing as the heat presses further and further in. Your crying, and your whispering, “Stop, stop.” 
“There’s handsome,” the dark voice says. “I’ve gotta go hide somewhere, does he carry after hours? I think I’ll find out.” 
“Oh,” you say, feeling sickly. You attempt to curl into yourself, when did you turn onto your back? “No,” you mumble, lips wet with something hot. 
“Honey?” a voice asks. 
“Honey,” you repeat, woozy again, darkness falling in all over again, where it stays. 
Honey, are you in here?
The window behind Aaron’s shoulder is cold. Rain patters fast like floods, thunder occasionally chewing through clouds, and Jack Hotchner cries sluggish tears into his dad’s shoulder. 
Aaron has his eyes closed. They’ve been at this for a while. “Shh, shh shh, buddy,” he says softly, patting the bottom of Jack’s back. He’d sway him back and forth if his arms weren’t about to fall off. 
Jack squirms closer, no room left between them. 
“I know it’s scary,” Aaron says. 
Jack just cries. This approach of quiet support isn’t working; Jack isn’t a baby that needs to be put to sleep, he’s a panicking little kid, and Aaron needs to change gears. He ushers him away from his chest and crosses his arm behind Jack’s back. Careful, he shifts Jack’s weight to free his other arm and brings his fingers up to the silky brown hair dropping onto Jack’s forehead. 
“She’s okay,” Aaron says, stroking Jack’s hair. His little forehead is clammy. “She’s not hurting. I know it looks scary, honey, but… she’s just resting.” 
Jack looks him in the eyes. “Her face.” 
“I know.” He nods emphatically. “It’s hard to see. Blood isn’t nice. You don’t have to see her again today, not if it’s too scary.” 
Jack lifts a hand to Aaron’s face. Clumsy but with clear attempts to be careful, he wipes at the skin under Aaron’s eye. Aaron bites back a smile. 
“I look tired,” he says. 
“Yeah.” Jack brings his hand back to wipe his eyes. He sobs as he does it. Aaron can’t describe the ache it gives him to see it. 
“Buddy, I’ll do it. Let me wipe your face. I can do it.” 
Jack drops his hands. Aaron turns his hand and wipes the smudge of Jack’s tears from hot cheeks, testing the waters with a little smile. 
“I couldn’t see you under all those tears.” 
Jack does a little smile back. “Yes you can.” 
“I couldn’t! But now I’ve wiped all your face I can see you again. You’re handsome, did we know that?” 
Jack giggles. He sniffles, and he presses his palm to Aaron’s neck. “I don’t want her to be sad, dad.” 
“She’s going to be sad, because something scary happened, but it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of her.” 
Aaron would offer to take him home, but they can’t go home. They may not go home for a long time —the team is still trying to work out how someone made it into the apartment without alerting the building’s security or Aaron’s internal system. And then escaped again without Aaron’s notice. Until then, Aaron has to make a decision about a safe house, for himself, Jack, and Jess, though she's extremely unreceptive to the idea. 
Aaron has to look after Jack, and he needs to take care of you. 
“What do you think, bud?” he asks, cupping Jack’s head in his hand. “Do you want to go home?” 
“You said I can give her a hug.” 
“If it’s too scary, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to get upset again.” 
“I’m not scared. I want to give her the hug,” he says. 
Aaron pulls him in for a hug of his own. “Okay, buddy. Just try to think of it like this. She’s where she needs to be to get better. Everybody here is looking after her. She’ll be okay soon.” 
Aaron looks over Jack’s head down the hospital hallway. It’s a quiet ward, and here between the main ward doors and the hallway that leads down to the individual rooms there’s complete silence. Night is approaching quickly again, and with it comes Aaron’s panic. Your head turned into a puddle, your face lax of expression in the dark. He can’t stop finding the women he loves bloody and on their backs. 
“Ready?” he murmurs. “Can you walk with me? My arms are tired.”
“Yeah.” 
Aaron puts Jack down gently onto his feet. He neatens his hair, chucking him under the chin as he goes to see his smile. He’s so pretty, like Haley was, with shiny eyes. He’s a beautiful kid. Aaron takes his hand and together they make their way down the hallway to your room. 
You’re sleeping. 
Aaron herds Jack through the door and to the plastic covered chair by your side, where he lifts him up and sits him down. He stays between you both. Jack isn’t scared of you, just the blood, but he wants to show Jack that he’s going to protect him from anything he needs protecting from. He also desperately wants to touch you, and reassure himself that you’re still breathing. 
He looks for your hand. Your pinky finger is splinted, but he can take it with care, give the palm of it a squeeze. 
The blood matted in your hair has finally been washed away after a turbulent day, as well as the staining that marred your face. Your nose is broken, and looks it, the bruises so fierce your eyes have turned puffy and your top lip has inflamed. There are second degree burns in multiple places but most affectedly on your chest. There’s a stab wound at your hip, allegedly done with a small blade. It nicked your small intestine. The bandages laid over you are a lump under your hospital gown. 
Aaron looks at you, and he feels a passionate disdain for himself. He wishes he could… be someone else. Someone who doesn’t have such a deep connection to a job that hurts the people around him, over and over. Haley used to say he was obsessed with being the hero, but this doesn’t feel heroic. 
“Do you wanna give her your cuddle?” he asks softly. 
Jack stays sitting. 
He’ll have to give it to you himself. Careful, Aaron leans down over your prone body and presses a half kiss to your ear, the only place that won’t hurt. 
You have an IV drip going into your arm, painkillers, an ECG monitor to the left. The room is white but busy, you’re a burst of colour against it all, your cuts and bruises, the evidence of violence he can’t remove. Aaron’s tired. He perches on the gap of bed by your leg and holds your hand, turning to Jack, who watches with a frown. 
“She’s sleeping,” Aaron says. 
“When can she come home?” 
“In a few days.” He feels the pad of your hand, terrified of your broken finger but needing to hold a part of you. 
“Why is she sleeping all day?” 
Traumatic experiences are exhausting. “I think she might want to be alone, so she sleeps.” 
“Should we go?” 
Aaron shakes his head. “I think we should stay. When she wakes up again she’ll be happy to see us, because we’re not strangers.” 
“We’re family,” Jack says. He’d liked that, when the nurse asked you how Aaron was related to you. Family only.
“We’re her family,” Aaron agrees. 
If he somehow miraculously fell out of love with you, you’d still be family to them. You’ve given so much of your heart since you met them. Aaron wants everything you have to give. 
You wake in a slow, slow upheaval. It takes effort on your part, the opening of sore eyes, the dreary decision to face your pain. Your hand jumps in his but relaxes when he shushes you, your slimmer fingers stilling under his rubbing thumb. For a split second, you keep your gaze half-lidded, jaw soft, like you’ve been indulging in a stolen nap. 
Then your breath catches and you screw your eyes tightly. 
“You’re okay,” he says, quietly, and not as lightly as he means to, “you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” in quick succession. 
“Hurts,” you say, and gasp, a whine stuck in your throat. 
He doesn’t know what to do. Jack shouldn’t watch this but he can’t leave you alone. “It’s okay,” he says, holding your wrist to stop it climbing up your bruised face. 
You were worse the first time you woke up. Catatonic, then sobbing. You mumble and whimper now, pain threading goosebumps down your arms. 
“It hurts too much,” you say. A sob falls out of you like you’ve been ripped open. 
Aaron doesn’t think, but an instinct sparks. The pain, to hit you right out of the gate like this, to make you say something like that when you’ve always always made your problems small, must be torture. It must feel new and sudden all over again. 
Aaron checks that Jack is alright and leaves the room. He looks down one hallway and then the other, but there’s no nurse around —he races to the reception desk and begs the two nurses there for help with you, “She’s in intense pain,” he says, grasping the desk. 
The nurse he’s more familiar with clears her throat. “Mr. Hotchner, she’s already had enough motrin for two people at your request, she really shouldn’t need–”
“Pain is just as important to treat as the injury.” 
A second nurse puts her salad down with raised brows. “Do you want to overdose her?” 
“Excuse me?” 
Aaron has always seen himself as a gentleman, but the argument that ensues is tricky to navigate while remaining respectful, and he’s no closer to better treatment for you by the end of it. He gives each nurse a disapproving glower and takes his phone from his pocket, turning on the spot, ready to call whoever it is he needs to call for a second opinion. He’s not gonna listen to you cry when there’s no need. 
He pushes the door open with the phone still clutched in his other hand. Jack’s climbed onto your bed. He cuddles your face, sitting by your pillows and bent over you protectively. 
Aaron lets out a breath. 
“It’s okay,” he says, his arm behind your head and his arm on your shoulder. “W’gonna take care of you.” 
“I know,” you say, crying without sound, shaking under his arms.
His cheek smushes against your forehead. Your eyes are closed and your face braced for contact Jack doesn’t make, careful not to hurt you as he rubs his cheek into your skin. Your blankets are falling off of you from the squirming and your bruises shine with tears in the light, but Jack has calmed you down some. 
Aaron shouldn’t have left Jack with you. He’s been so scatterbrained since he found you when he should be the opposite, but Jack is doing better than Aaron managed alone. 
“I’m sorry for crying,” you say slowly. “I’m hurting, but it’s not bad. I’m okay.” 
“That’s good. You have a big scratch on your face, and bruises.” 
“I know.” 
“Dad says you have a bruise on your tummy too.” 
“I got lots of bruises, but it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” You bring your hand up injured and uncaring to rub his leg. “You’re being a really brave boy, thank you.” 
A tear rolls down your cheek. 
“It’s teamwork,” Jack says. “I hug you and you hug me.” 
“Is that what you want? You want a hug?” 
“I want to go home,” he says, hugging you harder. 
You grasp his arm loosely where it’s just under your chin. “Jack, can you move your arm?” you whisper. 
Your breath comes quickly, but Jack moves his arm away from your bruised neck and you try to calm yourself down. 
Aaron jolts himself back into action. “Sweetheart,” he says, rushing to sit Jack back and give you more space. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine.” 
He watches. Not sure what to say. Not sure saying anything is wise. You squint at him through your lashes, eyes opening slowly, your mouth a line pressed hard to stop from crying. 
“I think it's time for Jack to go home,” he suggests gently. 
“Yeah,” you say, eyes swimming with tears. 
“No.” Jack squeezes your head again, to your panic. 
“Jack, buddy, please don’t touch her neck,” Aaron says, grabbing Jack from your pillow. 
He erupts into tears again. Frantic and vying for you, Aaron tries to calm him and he kicks against his chest, tears turning to disgruntled sobs at not getting what he wants. You wince, pressing your face completely into the pillow. 
Aaron carries Jack from your room, phone in hand. 
Is she breathing? Can she talk? 
I don’t– I don’t know, I don’t– She’s breathing. Honey, can you hear me? I don’t know what to stop. I don’t know where it’s all coming from. 
Where’s the worst of the blood? 
It’s everywhere. 
Abdominal? Chest? 
I can’t tell. I can’t tell. 
Mr. Hotchner, you can’t panic. Does she have a chest wound?
Yes. Yes, but– 
Is she conscious? How’s her pulse? Be ready to start chest compressions. 
Honey, can you hear me? 
Your name said clearly. 
“Hey, can you hear me?” 
“Yes,” you murmur. 
“If you need a minute, that’s okay.” 
You cover your mouth with your hand. Emily Prentiss has a soft voice like your boyfriend’s when she wants to have it. She’s never spoken to you like this, none of his colleagues have, but since the incident, everybody treats you like you’re made of glass. 
Cognitive interviews are meant to happen immediately after an accident, but you weren’t up for company. Aaron promised this would be on your terms, that Emily is the most practised, and that she’s reaped the most information from them than the rest of the team. So far, it’s worked to drag bad memories to the surface. 
“Maybe we should start from the beginning.” 
There isn’t a beginning. There’s just conversation. Aaron’s hand on your heart and his shaky voice, so unlike him.
“Okay.” 
Emily reaches for your hand. She smiles, and her nice features get nicer. That’s another thing they all share, good looks. “Okay. What did you notice, in the kitchen? It’ll help if you close your eyes,” she reminds you. 
You close your eyes. 
“What stuck out?” 
“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’ve been in there lots of times, and nothing ever changes.” 
“Nothing? Not even the drawings on the fridge?” 
“Jack’s particular about his best work, even if I think they should all be on display.” 
Emily’s voice turns to a shard of itself. “What did you do? Can you take me through it step by step? Make yourself a cup of hot chocolate.” 
“I never got that far.”
“What did you do?” 
“I filled the kettle.” 
“What kettle?” 
You don’t understand the need for specificity, but you answer. “Aaron got it for me, when he… he told me he loved me, and when we got home he’d bought me a kettle and a bunch of stuff to make my being there easier. The kettle, because… he said something about superheated water. How the microwave can be dangerous, and this would be easier than a pan.” 
“Alright. Okay, and what did you do after that?” 
“I put the kettle on the stove.” You lit the burner, and heat kissed your palm, and suddenly the room had felt cold. “I got goosebumps.” 
“When?” 
“The kettle started to whistle, and it was cold.”
“And then–”
“Then he grabbed me.” 
“Yeah,” Emily says softly. 
You touch your nose. “I tried… He didn’t feel like a person. He didn’t feel like someone I was fighting, it was just painful.” 
“Like he was quick on his feet?” 
“He was silent. I didn’t hear him until I made him fall.” 
“How big did he feel?” 
Your stomach churns. Big. He’d felt big. 
Where’s the worst of the blood?
“He said he was going to hide,” you remember. 
“He said that? He said ‘hide’?
“Yeah. And he asked me if Aaron carries after hours.” 
“When was this?” 
It’s a headache. You try to remember more, because that’s what they need right now. If you ever want to go home, if you want Jack to go home, you need to remember more. The BAU are good, but nobody can make a map out of slivers. 
“That was at the end,” you say. 
“After he stabbed you?” 
You wince. “Yes. After.” 
“You’re doing so good,” she praises, “I just want to fill in the gaps.” 
“I can’t remember. I was unconscious.” 
“When Hotch found you?” 
“No, before.”
“Before?” she asks. 
You’re sick of sitting there with your eyes closed. Sick of your hands shaking with nowhere to hide them, and sick of feeling sick, your nausea as present as the stinging pain of your burned wrist against your sleeve each time you move. 
You open your eyes and look around the conference room for something interesting. How nice would it be to think of something else for a few minutes?
“He called it handiwork when he cut me. Asked if I thought Aaron would like it,” you say, bordering monotonous as your gaze fizzles, unfocused, across the room. 
“Okay, Y/N. Okay. I know you’re tired.” She reaches for your hands to squeeze at the same time. “You did really well. Any details at all are details we can use to find him.” 
You’re not in the mood for talking anymore. Tears burn your eyes, waiting for a blink to set them loose. 
“I want to see Aaron,” you confess quietly. 
“I’ll find him for you.” Emily stands but bends, the dark of her hair a contrast to her pale face. She’s lovely, and her hand is gentle on yours. “Are you okay? Can I get you something to eat?” 
So Aaron’s not keeping that to himself. “I want to see him, please.” 
“Yeah. Okay.” 
This is a horrible room. It’s not their fault, but the big white board is tacked with bad photos of grisly cases —currently your own. You stare at a photograph of your blood in the kitchen and don’t know what to do. Should you look away? You hadn’t realised you bled so much. 
You turn your chair toward the door. Emily looks back as she leaves and smiles at you softly, but your eyes are already moving to the smaller dry erase board by the doorway. It’s ‘Hotch’s turn to clean up on Thursdays. How strange that they make the boss clean the conference room. 
You can picture him picking up coffee cups and wiping down the table. You can always picture Aaron. 
You can see him hovering over you, his hand pressed to the bloody mess of your hip to stop the blood. 
“It’s okay,” you whisper to yourself, wanting to break from the memory, following Aaron’s example. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.” You repeat it into your hands, head tilting down. You sink until your knuckles touch your knees. 
That’s all he says when you panic. He’ll say it over and over again until you can breathe right. I have you, I have you, you’re okay. 
He’s much quieter this time. You hear his footsteps, his familiar gait, your head pounding too hard to move. Aaron makes a sound between a sigh and a hum, like he’s saying a sorry hello as he kneels in front of you. His hand takes your face, rubs softly over your ear. 
“My head’s just hurting,” you murmur. 
He doesn’t respond. You sit together for some time as your mind races with bad memories, your fear a rush of goosebumps down the lengths of your arms and thighs. It’s hard not to think about what happened, mostly because you’re still a walking bruise, your stitches sting when you move, the blisters on your chest ache, all of it inescapable. But it’s your anxiety that plagues you most. You’re in a constant state of dread. 
You had no idea someone could hurt you as badly as they had until it happened, and now you’re desperate not to be hurt again. 
“You have to look after me,” you say eventually, throat sore with how awful it feels to say. 
“Yes, I do.” 
“Please don’t let me get hurt again.” 
Total silence. You sniffle at his lack of an answer, only slightly comforted by his hands at your wrists now, pulling them from your face. “Let’s sit up,” he says, standing himself. “Come on, let’s sit up. You shouldn’t be putting so much pressure on your abdomen.” 
You lean back and everything aches like a stretch after a long run or a bad night’s sleep. 
Aaron pulls a chair next to yours. When he sits, your knees are pressed in between one another’s thighs, so close he could hug you. You might need one.  He’s given you a ridiculous amount of them each day, some for him and some for you. 
He has with him a takeout box and a bottle of water. 
“Here,” he says, popping the seal of the drink. “Three sips.” 
You feel like crying, but you drink. He opens the takeout box to reveal a normal looking sandwich already cut into two halves, but he takes a plastic knife from his pocket, peels away the wrapping, and cuts the sandwich again into quarters. 
“I’m gonna be sick,” you say. 
“No, you’re not. You won’t be.” He presses the sandwich flat with his hands and holds it to you until you take it. “Please, Y/N. You only have to eat what you can.” 
“I don’t want it.” 
“Please.” 
“Did Emily tell you about my interview?” 
He reaches for your thigh. Mildly unlike him when you aren’t at home. You assume it to be a tether for your sake. “No. Is there something you think I should know?” 
“I don’t want to say it again.” 
“Then you don’t have to. Someone will tell me when I get back.” 
You pinch the fluffy bread in your hands, eyeing wearily at the wet insides. “Can I come with you?” 
“You’re having trouble in the cognitive interviews, you won’t want to hear what we have to say.” 
You split the sandwich in half again, watching as salad and mayonnaise ooze from the bread. 
“If you don’t eat, you won’t get better,” he says, a touch stern. 
“I can’t eat when you won’t let me come with you.” 
“I’m not the only person capable of protecting you. I…” He circles your wrist before you can make a mess. “Can you please eat it?” 
You take a bite to appease him, your stomach roiling, food wet and cold on your tongue. You eat the whole quarter queasily, a lump at the back of your throat begging you to stop. 
Aaron takes an empty hand and rubs it tenderly. “Thank you,” he says, that rubbing turned more forceful, his hand journeying to your elbow and back again. 
It’s sweet how attuned he is to your needing his touch, but mortifying. This entire experience had been embarrassing from start to end. Couldn’t defend yourself, can’t get to grips with it, and can’t keep anything down. Aaron looks at you and your bruises and you wonder if he’s seeing you with blood matted in your hair, or hearing you beg for him to get you something stronger. All you’d wanted was a sedative. 
“I’m far from the only person capable of protecting you,” he says. 
“You saved me,” you say. You mean it in every sense of the world. 
“…This is my fault.” 
“I want to be with you,” you say honestly. “I don’t feel okay by myself right now, I just need you, or I feel so sick I wish that I died.” The anxiety is marrow deep. 
Aaron looks gutted. “Don’t say that.” His hand goes back to yours, back to tenderness. “I know you're scared.” 
“Then why won’t you listen?” you ask weakly. 
“I’m listening to you,” he says, his tone a dulcet, pleasing softness you’ve never ever heard before, “I need you to be safe, and I need Jack to be safe, and I can’t do that while he’s still out there.” His brows pinch together, agonised. “I’m sorry you’re scared. I didn’t protect you. But I won’t let anything happen to you again.
“I love you. Please believe that I’m doing what’s best for you right now.” 
You turn your head away. He cups your cheek regardless. 
“I love you,” he says again. 
“I know.” 
“No, I love you.” 
He’s saying sorry.
“I love you,” you mumble back. 
“How are you feeling? Is anything hurting more? Weeping?” 
Your eyes are heavy at his touch. “You only looked at me a couple of hours ago.” 
“Alright. Can I kiss you? I need to go.” 
You don’t answer. Aaron kisses your chin, your jawline, the type of roving, teasing kisses he’d give as he squeezed your sides, only he doesn’t squeeze you, he can’t without hurting you. His hand hesitates just above your deepest wound. 
His bright kiss works to spark a modicum of life back into you. Not a lot, but enough. It was likely his intention, some quick prodding kisses to remind you of something happy between you both. 
You curl your fingers over his hand and turn your face for a chaste peck. He smiles, the curve of his lips evident and relieving against yours. 
“Someone will take you back to the safe house, okay? Give Jack a kiss for me,” he says. 
You nod. Aaron strokes your cheek. 
Your assailant could have killed you while you were vulnerable, but he didn’t. “He assumes he’ll have another chance,” Emily surmises. 
“That’s cocky,” JJ mutters. 
“It’s telling,” Aaron says. “But he won’t.” 
The coaching has been extensive. You, sick, a breath from tears and hurting, your shoulders in his hands and his grip too tight. If someone tells you I’m dead, you wait. If Morgan tells you I’m dead, you ask Rossi. If he says I’m dead, you ask Emily. You can’t believe the first thing someone says. No one is going to move you from this safe house to another without seeing me first. If I do get hurt, you and Jack will be moved separately. You will always get my confirmation before you’re moved. 
I’m not gullible, you’d said, wincing at his sharp tone. 
It’s not about that. People will lie, and they will lie well. They will talk their way into the house if you let them. You can’t let them. 
I won’t. 
He’s racing against a countdown, because no matter what he says, what you know, or how many agents wait outside your house, sometimes it’s a force of will. 
Foyet didn’t need much more than that. 
He admittedly feels on surer footing knowing where you are. The decision to guard you without putting you in WITSEC is aching and scary but better, too. He knows where you are. He can be there in ten minutes. No guessing games, but no hiding for you either. 
Your dread is taking over everything you do. Today’s the first day since you came home almost two weeks ago that you could function without a live-in nurse or Jess there to look after Jack, and already he’s worried, because he’d convinced you total honesty was what’s best for the both of you, and so your texts are candid. 
One an hour for his sake, more if you're up to it.
Threw up my beta blockers. Jack misses you, he wants to make you a Lego boat and fishing rod, but I’m not sure how to do it. Please make sure you eat dinner. 
Your next message makes him smile, thankfully. I’m kidding about the dinner thing. Ha. I had one of those gels you got for me, and Jack wants fries, so I’m making waffle fries. 
He texts back quickly. Eat dinner. Please tell Jack I miss him too, and don’t worry about the boat, he’ll work it out. Then, feeling awful, he adds, I love you
Aaron should go home. He’d feel better if he knew he was there to help you keep your medication down, but if he leaves… He knows his team will give you everything they have, but he has more. He can fix this. 
He can’t fix this, god, his head hurts badly. You’re covered in cuts and bruises and burns and he thinks he can make up for that? You’ve been brutalised. Aaron can’t believe this is happening again. 
He rubs his brow. 
“You okay?” Emily asks. 
When he looks up, JJ is gone. 
“I’m fine.” 
“It’s okay if you’re not.” 
He’s not fine, but he knows what she’s asking. “I’m okay enough to do this,” he says. 
It’s hard not to confuse you with memory, your hurting similar to his own, your situation one that he’s already lived. Haley will haunt him for life. It doesn’t usually feel as punishing as he fears he deserves: he gets to remember the best parts of her everyday. He sees her in Jack all the time. He sees her in you, occasionally —you’ll touch his hair or rub his arm like she would’ve done, and it doesn’t make him miss her any more than he does, he’s not in the business of wishing you weren’t yourself, he loves you, but he remembers her. Aaron remembers how he failed her every day. 
He can’t fail you, too. 
“Is it ever easy?” Emily asks. 
Aaron looks around for a bottle of water. “Is what?” 
“Being in love.” 
He thinks about it. “I must make it look hard.” 
She laughs softly. “Sometimes, yeah.” 
Maybe that’s not fair, then, to you. For him to make it seem difficult to love you. To fail to correct Emily when she asks. 
He chooses his words carefully. “Loving her is the easiest thing in the world. But… I continue to work a job I know makes me hard to love in return.” And that puts you in danger. 
It doesn’t feel wrong to be sincere. Perhaps it’s easier with Emily. She saw so much of him during Foyet, and she’s family, truly. He can tell her how intense it’s felt. 
“Well, it doesn’t seem hard for her,” Emily says. 
He shakes his head. 
She continues regardless, “Even during her cognitive, she mentioned the first time you told her you loved her. When it was over she wanted to see you over anything else.” 
But I put her here, he wants to say. Or doesn’t want to say at all, but instead knows with surety. 
“She can’t eat if I’m not home,” he says. What a thing to do to someone. “It’s my fault.” 
Emily smiles, hair slipping off of her shoulder as her expression turns to playfulness. “I think you’re seeing it all wrong. Something bad happened to her, and you’re so safe to her that you make it better when you’re with her. That’s not fault, Hotch. Just love.” 
He turns his attention back to the board without another word. 
When the day comes, when they find the man who hurt you, you’re sitting at home with Jack Hotchner in your lap. You’re laughing at his laughing, cartoon fish on the TV, and Aaron’s got a gun in his hand fifty miles away. You both giggle, nearly in hysterics as the safe house living room glows pink and red, Jack’s favourite character swimming hurriedly across the screen, as Aaron negotiates the arrest. 
Usually capable of mediation, Aaron finds his patience completely unravelled. He offers the UnSub two choices: he surrenders now, immediately, and he keeps his life, or he deliberates and Aaron kills him. 
He has reason to believe the UnSub will try again, of course. Will keep hurting you until it sticks. 
He goes home satisfied.
“Dad’s home!” you say excitedly, your movie long finished, your thighs numb and stitches stinging where Jack has leaned against you. You encourage him off of you as the front door closes, the cold air from outside rushing in. 
“Honey?” Aaron calls. 
“Yeah!” You stumble into a standing position, sure you look about as disgusting as you have since the situation began, promptly sitting back down as head rush hits. 
Jack races for the door, meeting Aaron in the hallway with a whoosh. “Hey!” 
“Hi, buddy, what are you doing?” 
“We watched Finding Nemo,” Jack says, “and now I’m hugging you, duh.” 
“Duh. Well, I need to talk to Y/N for five minutes. Can you wash your hands for dinner?” 
“Yeah.” 
“You okay?” he asks. 
“I’m fine.”
You hear the sound of a light kiss, and then Jack rockets across the hallway and up the stairs. Aaron walks into the doorway, tie still knotted but with no suit jacket, and you know what he’s going to say before he says it. He wears a strange expression.
“You got him?” you ask. 
He puts a white bag on the coffee table, looking down at you fondly. “I got him.” 
“How did you find him?” 
He crouches down in front of you. He’s so careful to be harmless to you now, so tentative. “You’re not the only woman he hurt. We dealt with him in the past. From the information you gave Emily during your interview, and the information he left behind, we found him… If you weren’t as brave as you are, I couldn’t have kept you and Jack safe.” He holds your knee. “Thank you.” 
You stare at him. Staring, wondering what he means. “Brave?” 
“Brave.” 
“I’m a coward.” 
He shakes his head. “No. You’re not.” 
All you've done for days is cry and throw up and bleed, literally. You’ve ruined clothes and sheets, thrown up in his lap, terrified and aching. Each time was met with the same gentleness. A kiss on the cheek, or a hand rubbing your back. Is that bravery? You feel like a baby. 
Aaron’s brow is relaxed. He takes your two legs into his hands, and he looks at you with a reverence that leaves you breathless. 
“You’re hurt forever because of me,” he says quietly, you strain to hear him, “because of who I am, and what I choose to be.” 
“How can you say that? It’s not your fault.” 
“It wouldn’t have happened to you if I hadn’t missed his MO the first time.” 
“You’re not putting the knife in anyone’s hand,” you argue. 
“But it keeps happening.” 
His hair shines dark and wet. It must be raining outside, the safe house walls are thick, the windows shuttered permanently, you haven’t heard a peep. You stroke it back from his forehead. 
“Remember… when we first got together, and you told me you were sorry for how hard being with you could be. And I said it was okay, that it wasn’t hard, and you said it would be?” 
“I remember,” he says, practically mouths. 
“I was so afraid when...” You swallow roughly. “I still am. But not– not of you. Not of what you can do. When you told me it was going to be hard, I thought, well, it’s worth it, because I really liked you then and I love you now.” Tears collect in your eyes. Safe. I’m safe. “And you look after me, so– so–” 
You stop as your voice turns to glass, worried you’ll make a fool of yourself and cry in his hands. 
“I didn’t want this for you,” he says. 
“Nobody wants this. Bad things happen to everyone, but who has someone like you to look after them?” 
He breathes out heavily. “Please… don’t cry.” 
You wipe your cheeks, taking a lengthy pause before you say, “I’m okay now.” 
He looks at you in silence. 
“Come and sit with me,” you say, scrubbing your cheeks, hot tears cooling on the backs of your hands. “Your knees.” 
He actually smiles. It changes his entire face. “What about my knees?” 
Aaron sits on the couch next to you atop Jack’s blanket, a bag of pretzels tipping between your leg and his. You attempt to rake his damp hair into submission as his fingers run against your thighs, fishing for pretzels to put back into the bag. 
You’d like for him to grab you and kiss you harshly, give you one of his straight jacket hugs, some roughhousing, but you won’t get that from him until you're better, and even then, it’s up in the air. So much has changed. 
But not everything. 
“I love you,” you murmur, fingertips scratching down behind his ear to the back of his head. 
He turns to you, sagging with relief and exhaustion. “Kiss?” he asks quietly. 
You nod. He holds your cheek, and you close your eyes at the same time for a kiss. It’s not a lot, but you have time. He can give you another one when you’re both better recovered. 
He pulls away. You open your eyes, finding his closed, his face downturned. “I love you.” 
“I love you, too.” 
“Was Jack good?” 
“Jack’s always good.” 
“Did the nurse have anything to say about your chest?” 
“She said it’s healing okay. That I need to use, uh, scar patches when they start to scab.” 
“I can get those.” 
“I know, I knew you would.” 
He gathers you up for a hug. For a moment, you think he’ll move on, that the end of your nightmare will kill his remorse, but he breathes in, nose wedged against your cheek. 
“Do you think that tonight, we could pretend it didn’t happen?” You’d like to just sit with him, press your hand to his chest and doze. It’s the first night in a while that you’ll feel completely. 
“Yeah. I can do that.” He hugs you rather tightly. “Do you want to see your present?” he asks, relaxing his grip. 
“My present?” 
He grabs the bag on the coffee table and places it in your lap. “I’m worried it’ll remind you of bad memories, but I wanted you to have nice things then, and I still do.” 
In the bag, there’s a pair of pyjamas. Very different to the ones you’d been wearing when you were attacked, they were girly and sweet, soft in your hands, these are sturdy. Still soft, but thick. The shirt is short-sleeved and the pants cuffed at the ankles, a hoodie tucked underneath them, and a packet of minky socks. 
“Thank you,” you say. 
Thanks for everything, for saving you twice, for taking care of you at your worst, and for wanting you to have something comfortable to wear at the end of it. To have experienced an abjectly cruel battering will leave its marks in your forever, but you meant what you told him. He looks after you, and you love him. 
He kisses your shoulder. “You don't need to say that.” 
He doesn’t add anything else, his nose pressed to your shoulder, his hand on your hip. Whatever goes unsaid can be felt in the other’s touch. 
˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚
thank u for reading!! it’s been a long time since I wrote a fic for hotch and it’s hard to write him being vulnerable but I hope this is alright anyways and that you enjoyed :D please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it (cos that way my fics get shown to more people <3) ❤️
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 5 months
Note
how do you think the boys would react to reader telling them that she’s like NEEDY needy (iykyk)
would they do it, or just like get shy and walk off? or? 👀👀👀👀👀👀
mature content ahead: view discretion is advised
So, are they in a relationship yet? I'm going to go with they're in a relationship for this but if you meant they weren't you can feel free to re-ask
James:
chokes on his spit and nearly trips as he turns to look at you in shock (not unpleasant shock, mind you)
"You're what?"
He'd coo in sympathy after you had to embarrassingly repeat yourself in a whisper, rubbing your thighs together desperate for friction
"awe sweets. Okay, come on." and he's leading you by the hand - he's almost more eager than you are as he rushes down the hall
ends up on his knees with his face under your skirt in the closest bathroom - you'd be taken care of for sure 😩
Sirius:
biggest shit eating grin you've ever seen in your life and you almost regret saying anything
I think he'd tease you a little bit: "Awe, poor dolly's feeling needy, hm?" He'd coo in faux sympathy, the bastard
He'd make you tell him exactly what you're looking for. "What do you want, dolly?" 'touch me' "Like this?" and all he'd do is push your hair behind your ear
two can play at that game: 'Fine, I'll go ask someone else.'
He'd let out a horrified squawk and throw you over his shoulder. "Now now, let's not get hasty. I don't want anyone thinking I don't take care of my girl"
bent you over in the nearest broom closet and you both leave flushed and satisfied
Remus:
would smirk at you but continues reading through the first draft of his essay "really dove? now?"
he'd chuckle listening to you pout and get all breathy as you try to sit still "We've got homework, baby girl."
You'd get petulant and lean back in your seat with a huff, crossing your arms.
without even looking, he'd grab the leg of your chair and pull it over towards him - he'd keep his head low and continue making adjustments on his paper as he slips his free hand under your skirt and moves your panties aside.
"Awe, poor dovey - you really were needy weren't you" he'd lightly tease, murmuring softly so only you could hear.
your breath would hitch as he slipped inside of you, earning you a gentle shush as he threatens to stop moving his fingers.
"I'll take care of you but you have to be quiet; only I get to know how pretty you sound, yeah?"
gets you off with just his fingers in the library - makes up for it again later once he's done his essay
Regulus:
he's mean, I'm sorry
he'd make you wait all day
he'd go to class, to every meal, to quidditch practice barely sparing you a glance leaving you all the more desperate
it was painful for him too, mind you. Thinking about you being needy made him needy, and he spent all day dreaming of taking you over and over and over again
but he's a bit of a sadomasochist lol
he'd finally be all wound up after quidditch practice and would pull you roughly into his room and, like he'd been imagining all day, take you over and over and over again
to the point of over stimulation
"Come on amour, you can give me one more, yeah? Wasn't this what you wanted? Weren't you so needy?"
he got three more for his dirty talk alone
Barty:
no questions asked
'Barty?' "Yes Treasure?" 'I...I want, erm....I mean I...I feel kind of needy'
slams book shut and throws it over his shoulder where it lands in the fountain with a splash
"Where are you two going?" his friends ask bemusedly
"I'm going to treat my girl like a slut the way she deserves, Black; if you're not going to help, mind your fucking business"
you spend the rest of the day in his bed, fucking, smoking, eating, fucking, smoking, fucking, reading, fucking again
you'd hardly ever need to worry about feeling needy with him - whenever, wherever, however - consider it done.
1K notes · View notes
buckys-wintersoldier · 6 months
Text
Never say “no” to your husband | Steve Rogers
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 -> Dark!Mob!Husband!Steve Rogers x Wife!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 -> You say “no” when Steve wants you to warm his cock in front of his men.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 -> 557
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -> 18+, Minors DNI Smut, dark!Steve, mention of fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex
𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 -> 🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about: Dark!Steve Rogers + covering your mouth @stargazingfangirl18
𝐀/𝐍 -> Thank you for sending that Drabble idea. It was funny.
Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Come on. Don’t be like that, honey.”
Steve groans and grasps your hand, stopping you from leaving the room while he turns you around. Your front crashes almost painfully against the hard wall in front of you. You hiss softly, and Steve pushes himself against you, holding you tight between the wall and his body. You can feel his tensing muscles against your back and the way his fingers dig into your skin.
“Stevie, pl-,” you whimper, but you get interrupted by his forward thrusting hips.
Steve's hand snaps to your face, covering your mouth before you can complain or beg even more. He knows that you would try to convince him to let go of you, but he won’t. He is desperate, and he wants you, your tight pussy. He owns his reward; he is the most popular mob boss, so he deserves to be treated like that. He thrusts his hips another time forward, his growing bulge pressing against your ass, and you whine against his hand.
“Told you to be good. Wanted to bury my dick inside of you earlier, but you made a scene. There were just a few of my men. You're a bad girl. You little slut, now I’m gonna fuck you,” he mumbles into your ear before he kisses down your neck.
Steve’s hand, which isn’t covering your mouth, removes your pants, freeing his cock. He moans loudly when he runs his thumb over the tip of his hard cock, smearing the pre-cum all over his dick, and gives himself a few strokes. Your husband loves to have you like that, begging for him to stop, maybe for his cock - depends on his mood. But now he just wants to fuck the attitude out of you, the way you said “no” to him when he told you to warm his dick. You didn’t want to, since he had a meeting with his men. Steve didn’t like to hear a no when it came to things he asked for. Not to mention that he always gets what he wants, as does his sweet little wife, who has to give him whatever he wants.
Steve’s hand lets go of his dick, sliding around your body until he reaches your pussy, moving them through your already wet folds. Steve chuckles, knowing your body exactly and how to touch you to make you drip like that. He rubs your clit, adding more pressure while he listens to the soft, muffled moans that leave your lips.
“Like that, don’t you? Such a pretty little slut for me.”
Before you can protest in any way, he shoves his dick inside of you. Your walls are stretching painfully, but your arousal makes it easy for him to slide balls deep inside of your tight pussy. Steve can’t get enough of it. Can’t get enough of you and your pretty little pussy.
“Don’t try to wiggle out of my grip. We both know you love that, love being fucked like that by your husband,” he groans, starting to thurst in a brutal pace inside of you.
His hand covers your mouth, your screams and moans muffled by it, while his dick stretches you like no one else could. And as much as you hate to admit it, he is able to fuck you whenever and wherever you want.
Taglist: @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @nicoline1998enilocin @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @blackhawkfanatic @armystay89 @suz7days @felicitylemon @cjand10 @casa-boiardi @cevansbaby-dove @flstrawberry @capsbestgirl77 @bookishtheaterlover7 @rogersbarber @sebastianstanisahotmf
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toruro · 1 year
Text
— ✧ to the brim
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pairing. kim mingyu x reader
description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?
↳ tags. smut (18+), breeding kink, husband!mingyu, filthy honestly
w/c. 2.9k
a/n. request .. i couldnt hold back
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you shut your eyes tight, squirming against the soft linen sheets as your husband holds you down. mingyu’s thick, strong arm latches onto your hips, pushing them back down whenever you dig your heels into the mattress and lift them up.
his tongue is lapping at your cunt, the lower half of his face slowly turning into a slobbering, dripping mess. “gyu,” you cry out, as he brings up a single finger and plunges it into your gummy walls, rubbing against them relentlessly and moves his mouth to your clit.
this is mingyu’s treat, as he put it five minutes earlier when you rolled on top of him this morning. you’d spent a few peaceful minutes laying on his sheet as he stroked his fingers through your hair as you drowsily murmured something about enjoying this weekend. of course, mingyu being the loving, caring, giving husband that he is, he offered to go down on you to make sure your day started off a little extra sweet.
now, as mingyu promised, you’re on the verge of your likely first of many orgasms for the next two days, nearly having to grab a pillow to cover your mouth so you don’t get a noise complaint from your neighbors.
reaching down to pull his hair, mingyu moans against your core when you tug at the thick brown locks, the vibrations building up that knot that he’s been so carefully tying. he’s looking you right in the eyes and the way his eyelids are half closed, almost as if he’s enjoying this as much as you (he probably is), has that knot being pulled so tight that you can’t help but let tears prick at corner of your eyes when it finally snaps.
mingyu fucks his fingers into you so fast it has you seeing stars as you ride out your orgasm, his demanding grip on your waist finally being release so you can swivel your hips to meet the movements of his hands. coming down with cries of his name and heavy pants, mingyu finally frees your overstimulated cunt of his ministrations, not breaking his gaze on you.
“you liked that?” he asks jokingly, peeling himself away from your wet thighs, glistening chin on display under the morning glow. rolling your eyes as you finally catch your breath, you let your hiked up knees fall to the bed as mingyu crawls up to you, pressing a messy kiss on your lips.
wincing slightly at the feeling of your own wetness against your cheeks, you push his face away gently. “of course i liked that,” you mumble, face burning.
mingyu chuckles, rolling over and laying in his back next to you, legs intertwined with yours. “just making sure angel,” he replies, bringing up a finger to wipe away some of the wetness from his lips, watching you as you shimmy your panties back on. he pouts when he realizes you’re getting up, fisting and unfisting his hand as he reaches out for you in a grabbing motion. “want more, angel.”
you consider going along with whatever plans mingyu has, and although you are quite turned on, you also feel the need to be a little productive. “i thought this was my treat, was it not?” you retort, swinging your legs over the bed and standing up, making your way out the door.
mingyu huffs at your response, “you’re lame,” throwing his head back. he kicks his legs around in the bed with a faux tantrum, rolling over to your side—he insists it’s warmer—and reaches for your phone. “hey babe, what’s your password again?” he calls out to you in a teasing tone when you’re at the bedroom door.
“mingyu there’s no way you just asked me that,” you sigh, knowing where this is going. he looks up at you with a smug grin as he holds your phone in the air.
“i know,” he says smugly, ”i just want to hear you say it.”
warmth permeates your body at his honesty, and you ears burn as you turn away, embarrassed. “it’s your birthday…”
“aww, really?” he coos as if you haven’t repeated this a million times.
“yes babe,” you mumble, walking out the door. “don’t milk it, or i’ll change it.”
mingyu gasps from the bed. “you would never,” he yells in disbelief.
“would so!” you yell back, grinning to yourself knowing that it’s a damn lie. “what are you doing on my phone anyways?” you ask curiously from the kitchen.
“‘m checking your calendar,” he replies, and from the open door you can see him scrolling through what you can only assume is your period app. you, once again, have an idea of where this is going to go, except this time you aren’t sure if you’ll be able to control yourself—not with the way you instinctively press your thighs together as you remember that it’s that time of month.
no, not that time of month—the other time of month.
you don’t even have time to think about what you’re going to make for breakfast because mingyu is thudding down the hallway and circling his large hand around your wrist and dragging you back to the bedroom. you can’t even find it in you to protest at this point, the familiar pooling of heat at the base of your stomach reinforcing the fact that you want—no, need—this as much as him.
you stumble over your steps but mingyu’s grip on you is tight and steady and before you know it he has you in the air and thrown onto the mattress. “you’re already prepped right angel?” mingyu confirms as he pushes his boxers down before clambering on top of you, resting himself between your legs.
“i dunno,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him down into a fierce kiss. “you kind of did eat me out like five minutes ago, did you forget?”
“how could i?” mingyu grins, tugging at the hem of your (his) shirt as a signal to take it off. “you look so hot when you cum,” he adds, “wish i could take a picture and make it my wallpaper or something.” he yanks down your soiled panties once more, making it a personal goal for himself to make sure you don’t get the chance to put them back on this morning.
“you already have pictures,” you remind him, slipping off mingyu’s shirt from your body, falling back onto the sheets as he stares down at you, his painfully hard length pressing into your thigh.
“yeah but they aren’t my wallpaper,” mingyu whines, flicking your clit once and chuckling at the way your body jerks.
“maybe because i don’t want—i don’t know—dokyeom to see me naked every time you open your phone.”
“ugh, you’re right—i hate sharing,” he agrees, nudging his tip against your folds. “you ready angel?”
"uh-huh," you murmur, lifting your hips slightly so he can line himself up with your hole. his bulbous tip hardly pushes in an inch before you're whining out his name and pushing the side of your face into the mattress from the stretch.
not even years with mingyu can prepare you for the way his cock is always so thick and long—the initial stretch is always a challenge, but the sensation of being split in two by your one and only husband has become one that you cherish.
"fuck," mingyu grunts, letting his had fall to your shoulder as he eases his cock into your cunt. "you're fucking sucking me in babe," he continues as he finally bottoms out. pressing kissing onto your skin, you dig your nails into mingyu's back as he allows you to adjust.
when you start to involuntarily rock your hips into his, mingyu takes this as his chance to take control, pressing his arms into your pelvis to still your movements. looking up at him with confusion, his only response is a smirk as he roughly snaps his hips back, the harsh drag of his cock making your vision go hazy and your mind go dizzy. without warning, he ruts back into you, and he feels so close that you nearly feel his cock pulsing inside of your cunt.
the sound of your soaked pussy and mingyu's cock colliding echos through the room, a wet puddle forming beneath the area you connect. your body shakes on the mattress with every thrust, his hips sending you in a back and forth motion as you reach for his hand to stabilize yourself.
"fuck, how are you always this tight?" he moans, slick from your cunt running down his thigh as he angles himself higher above you.
"f-feels so good gyu," you manage to gasp, your legs weakening, their grip on his hips growing loose. "baby, your shoulders—fuck—ca-can you—can i—" you beg incandescently, not making much sense but it seems mingyu understands the message as he slows down his movements.
"god yes." grabbing your legs, he pushes them up so that your knees are pressing against your chest. you secure them in their spot by wrapping your hands under your knees, but the position doesn't last for long before mingyu throws each leg over his shoulder so your ankles touch behind his neck. mingyu latches his arms over your legs that are now pressed against his chest, before pulling his hips back and ramming back into you.
the sound of skin slapping against skin rings in your ears and with every batter of his cock against that one spot in your cunt, you feel closer and closer to white, hot release. you grapple at the sheets around you, not being able to hold your husband's hands, and squirm at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you.
"you close gyu? 'm close," you moan.
"yeah—shit—i can tell babe, you're squeezing me so tight, so good. gonna milk me dry angel?" he grunts, pressing down further so you're nearly bent in half.
"i wanna," you babble mindlessly, "wanna cum with you—wanna have your cum gyu—"
even in your hazy state, you catch the way mingyu's eyes darken at your words. "fuck say that again," he orders.
"want your cum!" you cry out, feeling the hot coil in your stomach grow close to it's end. "fill me up gyu, 'm so close, 'm ready—please, please, please, gimme your cum gyu, please." your words are going through mingyu's ears and straight down to his cock and then he's slamming into you so hard you think you might fall off the face of the earth.
"fucking perfect pussy, 'm gonna fill you up, fill you up so good your tummy's gonna be all swollen with my baby," mingyu moans with thick spurts of his seed shooting through you, marking your cunt as his. the feeling has your back arching off the mattress, legs shaking over his shoulders as you shriek his name. "you like that?"
"mingyu—shit! love it, love your cum, love you!" you whine as pleasure slams through your body, legs giving out from the tension so they fall by mingyu's side so he can continue fucking into you despite his own overstimulation.
he watches the way you twitch at every movement, looking down at the part when his cock kisses your pussy, adoring the way he's able to fuck all his dripping seed back into you, muttering to himself about how he's gotta "make sure you don't waste a drop."
within a few moments you're both intertwined as an overstimulated mess, mingyu finally stilling inside of you as you pant for breath. "think it worked?" he murmurs, and you lift your head to look down at your core.
"it'd better," you reply, letting mingyu lean down to kiss you. then, against his lips, you continue, "we fucked up the sheets for this." you shift a little and then you feel the cool wet spot that has formed, cringing at how you already have to change the sheets.
"mm, we can just make use of the space…you know, since it's already so messy," mingyu suggest, pulling away from your lips and now that he's not kissing you, you're hyper aware of the way he's growing hard inside of you.
"mingyu—"
"c'mon angel, you know you want to. need to see you brimming with my cum," he eggs you on, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your stomach while he's still inside of you. you feel the stretch from inside of your pussy return, and mingyu's words are doing nothing but filthy things to you because you feel yourself growing warmer at the thought of his cum seeping out of you.
"please," you squeak out when he forcefully yanks your hips up so your ass is in the air, lined up with mingyu's pelvis.
"so needy," mingyu chuckles, pulling his length out halfway, placing a hand on your ass to steady himself. your whole core is covered in wetness, a mix of his saliva from earlier when he went down on you, his cum, and your own wetness. the sticky mixture coats both of your bodies now, and mingyu can't help but spiral at the idea that after this, you're going to be filled with even more of his cum.
he snaps his hips so his cock slamming back into you with such sheer force that you lurch forward, the only thing holding you in your spot being mingyu's grip on your lower half. "bet you wanted this—fuck—" he mutters out, each word punctuated with increasingly sharp thrusts, "—from the moment you woke up. wanted to be fucked raw. wanted me to dump my cum inside of your perfect fucking pussy."
"yes!" you agree without a thought to your head, arms giving out so your face is pressing into the mattress now. your moans are a bit muffled and mingyu is slightly annoyed that he can't hear you to your fullest, releasing his irritation by plunging his cock into your gaping cunt harder and harder, which has you crying out louder and louder.
"holy fuck, you're so tight—are you gonna cum already?" mingyu groans as you arch your back and push your ass back to meet his thrusts, chasing your third orgasm of the day.
"s-sorry gyu—it feels s-so so good," you blabber, tears springing at your eyes as a sob rips at your throat. you're so close already, your core squeezing and twitching uncontrollably at the immense stimulation and pleasure that's coming over you. you're tethering on to whatever last bit of self control you have as mingyu abuses your warm, wet walls with his cock.
"don't apologize angel," mingyu reminds you, but it's hard to believe him when his voice sounds so strained. you can tell he's refraining, holding himself back from letting loose and now you're mind is going blank at the thought of mingyu cumming inside you as tears begin to streak down your cheeks.
"oh my god, mingyu, 'm getting close," you warn, body growing limp as your thighs begin to cramp.
"fuck, my precious angel gonna cum on my cock? gonna make a mess?"
"yes, love your cock mingyu, love it, need it," you plead. "can i have your cum? wan' more of your cum gyu—feels so good." your vocabulary is reducing to that of a five-year olds (save for the repeated begging for mingyu's seed) and you can't help but hiccup over yourself.
"wan' my cum? fuck, i'll give you my cum—breeding you like the good fucking girl you are," mingyu spits out, jamming his cock into you with sloppy but determined thrusts. they're erratic and mindless but it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you cum for the third time this morning.
muffling your cries with the sheets underneath you, the way you're bawling out his name and pleading, "fill me up gyu, do it deep," has him letting go of all notions of self control.
he's cumming inside of you once more with one last thrust, murmuring, "gonna fuck a baby into you—you want that? wanna have my babies, angel?"
"yes gyu—fuck!" you moan at the feeling of his load being squirted inside of you, the hot ropes of cum seeming endless as the sensation helps you ride out the last of your orgasm.
"fuck, i've filled you to the brim," mingyu groans, looking down at the way his and your liquids cream the base of his cock and balls, the mess dripping down onto the linen. "what a mess," he mumbles to himself, more satisfied with himself than anything.
you're still slightly shaking, the past three orgasms fully catching up to you with a harsh wave of exhaustion that has your body falling forward flat onto the mattress, mingyu slipping out of you in the process. you let out a soft groan at the feeling of being empty, but have no time to dwell on the thought as mingyu flips you over again so you're lying on your back.
you're able to see the look on his face now, finally facing him, and the way his eyes sparkle down at you has your stomach tumbling in adoration. "i love you," mingyu states, eyes trailing down from your face back down to your cunt.
"i love you too," you chuckle before saying, "my eyes are up here lover boy." mingyu rolls his eyes, but doesn't peel his eyes away. "take a picture babe, it'll last longer." mingyu's eyes shoot up at that.
"can i?"
"only if you send it to me too."
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a/n. hope you enjoyed! please like and reblog and let me know how u liked this c:
7K notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 24 days
Note
It's me once again! Bothering you twice in a day, I'm annoying like that, ha just kidding. But yes James is soooo wholesome, it's crazy how he became my favorite boy. So Mae, I suppose you are super busy because being such amazing writer is no easy job when you have requests coming all the time but, if you have the time, whenever that is, could you write something about James? Like James being so wholesome, the best boyfriend, the fluffiest thing you can think of, maybe something with words or affirmation and kisses and hugs and just very lovely things, feel like I need that. If you can of course.
Hope you are having a very cool weekend and my username is basically my favorite colors and it has something to do with Van Gogh and my favorite singer but this kid knows something, haha it's so funny, kind of serendipitous if you ask me :) love that. Well, I'm going to set you free, read you soon.
P.S. Sorry this was so loonng
Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!! Sorry this took so long lol, I had to wait until I had an idea that wasn't already in my requests but I appreciate your patience! This is perhaps more hurt/comfort than straight fluff lol, but he is the most wholesome ever <3
cw: concussion
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 603 words
James’ hand is especially gentle as he strokes over your hair. Your nose dents into his thigh, and his jeans are coarse and scratchy but the slight pressure is nice. 
“Still dizzy?” he asks, carefully quiet. 
“A little.” Your own voice is thin, fraught. “Not as bad.” 
He sighs, and you feel too weird to decipher whether it’s in relief or dismay. “I’m sorry, angel.” He lifts one of your hands to his mouth, kissing the side. “Is it hurting in one place?” 
“It’s my whole face. But most in my forehead.” 
James’ touch is featherlight, ghosting over the spot where you’d smacked your head on the stairs. “Here?” 
“Mhm.” 
He makes a worried humming sound in response. You sit in silence for some time, and it’s not uncomfortable, but nothing is comfortable for you right now. You feel terrible, unlike yourself and unsettled because of that and also weepy but not as much as you are embarrassed. And dwelling upon any of this for too long makes your head spin worse. You don’t think you’re dying though it feels like you might be. 
The warm bead rolling down your nose brings you to the realization that you’re crying. James’ coo follows a moment later, and his hand splays protectively atop your head. 
“You’re okay, sweetheart. Do you feel alright to sit up?” 
“Okay,” you mumble. 
He does the work for you, though it’s hard to keep track of the movements. One second your head is on his lap and the next you’re propped against his chest, one muscled arm supporting your back while James rests his lips against your forehead. 
“You’re okay,” he promises. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” 
“I don’t really feel like going to dinner anymore,” you admit, tasting salt as a tear finds its way into your mouth. 
“Oh,” James lifts his lips to look you in the eyes, “honey, I didn’t expect you to. I’m going to call Remus and cancel in a minute, okay?” He brushes a lock of hair away from your face with his pinkie finger, stroking a sweet line down your cheek. “If you go anywhere, it should probably be to the doctor.” 
“No.” You close your eyes, too upset to care about the low whine that escapes you. “What’re they gonna do?” 
“I don’t know, baby.” James traces the same line again. “They might want to do an MRI or something. I’ve had a concussion before, they’re serious business.” 
You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. The material of his jumper is soft beneath your cheek. “I can’t think about it right now.” 
There’s a brief pause. 
“Okay. Okay, we can talk about it tomorrow, if it’s still bad then.” 
“I’m sorry.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry.” James’ arm wraps around your middle, squeezing lightly in a gentle sort of hug. You think that he’s being very careful with you, which you appreciate. You don’t imagine you could handle much more sensation at the moment. “I know it sucks, angel, and you’re handling it so well. We’re gonna do our best to get you feeling better. I love you so much, you know?” 
You feel like you might cry again. You don’t think you have the energy to stop yourself. “I know,” you tell him. “I love you so much, too.” 
“Heaps and heaps.” He gives you another little squeeze, his ability to repress his affection tenuous at best. “Probably the most anyone has ever loved anyone, if we’re being honest.” 
“James.” 
“Yeah?”
“I can’t do that kind of math right now. I love you a lot, okay?” 
“Okay. Same here.”
504 notes · View notes
abbyshands · 8 months
Note
more nerdy abby please
nerdy!gf!abby headcanons
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a/n; well, yes! how could i say no to that? <3
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; use of princess/angel/baby, abby coaxes reader on her period, implied strap-on, praise and a little degrading, cunnilingus, fingering, implied brat x brat!tamer dynamics (?), scissoring
P.S.; please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don’t stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking you to take the side that i’m on. i will be linking all of these resources in each post from now on. free 🇵🇸
LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help | places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
♡ fluff
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who is a biology major, planning to work as a doctor, and she freaks out whenever you get hurt. it could be the smallest of bruises and she’s there with bandages, wrapping you up, cleaning your skin, or whatever the case may be. there are times where she’ll scold you like a parent for being reckless, rattling off each and every fact she knows about the “delicacy of the human body,” as she calls it. “it’s like you do it on purpose, princess,” she grumbles, but you know deep down that she’s never really mad at you.
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who not only cares for you when you’ve got a cut or bruise, but also when you’re sick or on your period. it’s one of the only times she’ll drop all of her work, but then again, you’re the only person she’d ever drop her work for. if you have bad cramps, she’ll come to your dorm and cuddle with you, ensuring that you’ve taken medicine and are using a heating pad to assist with your cramps. she’ll spoon you from behind as she rubs your abdomen—where they usually are—whispering sweet things to you as you squirm in discomfort. “it’s okay, angel. it’ll pass. you’re okay.”
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who does her homework while cuddled up in bed with you. it’s amazing how she can do it, papers in her hands as you lay across her lap, or are cuddled up into her side. she’s managed to find a good balance in doing the work she’s meant to be doing while also ensuring that she isn’t ignoring you. you’ve fallen asleep numerous times to abby playing with your hair, and the sound of her scribbling away on her papers as she does so.
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who messages you during the day, a lot, just to check in on you on a regular basis. it’ll be small things, but it makes you feel cared for in every sense of the word. “did you eat today, princess?” “how was class, angel?” “feeling okay?” and if not: “do you want to come by my dorm? we can talk.” and, every single day, she will message you this one: “i love you.”
♡ nerdy!gf!abby who worships you like a goddess. she tells you how gorgeous you are on a daily basis, making sure you know how much she sees you for who you are. she loves every inch of you: your face, your eyes, your lips, hips, thighs, all of it. there’s not a thing in this world she doesn’t love on your body. “prettiest girl in the world,” she’ll say, and, if you’re feeling insecure, “what do you mean? you’re a real life princess, angel.” she’ll let you know just how mesmerizing she thinks you are with no shame.
✮ smut (18+)
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves to look you in the eye while she fucks you, but prefers to take you from the back. she’s obsessed with the way you whine and moan her name when she pulls your hair, not too hard, while she pounds into you from behind. “that’s it, princess. know you love when i fuck you like this, don’t you?”
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who praises you a lot, no matter if she’s behind you, on top of you, below you, it doesn’t really matter. she’ll tell you how much of a good girl you are, how well you’re receiving. “there you go, angel. you’ve got it,” she’ll coo, along with, “good/pretty baby. you look gorgeous like this.” her ways of worshiping you will never not come into the bedroom. “you take me so well, angel,” is also one you hear very much.
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who is a giving girl at heart. if there’s one thing she’ll spend the rest of her life doing, it’s eating you out, just to see that look of pure bliss on your face when she does it. she’ll kiss and bite up your thighs before she begins, leaving hickeys on your skin. then, she attacks your cunt in an almost ferocious passion, devouring your pussy like she’s running out of time to do so. she always feels herself get wet when she’s got you arching your back off the bed, whimpering prayers, and whispers of abby’s name. her glasses fog up during it all, and are always covered in your arousal and release by the time she’s done, but she never cared at all for that. she’s skilled in what she does, using her fingers to curl inside your g-spot while her lips attack your clit, easily getting an orgasm out of you each and every time.
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who isn’t big on degrading unless she’s praising you and degrading you in the same sentence. “my pretty little slut,” “you’re my good whore, aren’t you,” and “you’re my whore, d’you hear me? mine.” she doesn’t like to degrade you because she genuinely feels you’re too precious for that, her baby. so, she only does it like this, and the reason she does it at all is because you’ve told her that you like it. however, she can get just a little mean if you’re being a brat to her. “don’t give me that attitude, princess,” “you’re too pretty to be a brat,” and, “don’t test me, baby.”
✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves scissoring with you when you’re on top of her. the way you rub your soaked pussy onto hers, grinding your hips on her lower body like the needy girl you are. she loves to watch you fuck yourself as her own climax builds inside of her, and it feels nice to not have to do the work for once. she can get a little whiny herself when she feels your clit rub onto hers, grabbing your hips as she moans loudly. “f- fuck, baby, that feels so good. keep going. don’t stop,” and, “you like this? you like riding me, hm?” she also firmly believes that your bodies were made to fit like this from the beginning, and she always tells you that during it all. “my cute girl. you’re just for me. no one else makes me feel this good,” and “made just for me, princess? yeah, i know you were.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
———
1K notes · View notes
imagine--if · 9 months
Text
══⋆✰* Dating Cha Hyun-Su Includes: *✰⋆══
A/N: In honour of the second season of Sweet Home, this was mandatoryyyy 😁 just started off with some relationship hcs first but feel free to send some imagine or other headcanon requests through my inbox for Sweet Home characters if you're into it! These headcanons cover season one and two. Enjoy reading 🖤
Warnings: Sweet Home series spoilers, mentions of violence
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🩸• Starting from the beginning of this monstrous series of events, the most likely way you'll meet Hyun Su is at Green Home a bit before the monster outbreak and apocalypse comes along. All you'll see of the quiet, sullen young man is his weary, unfocused gaze that briefly trails up from the ground to glance up at you in acknowledgement as he bumps into you somehow while moving into his apartment in the complex. The only sign of his interest in you from first looks is his stare lingering for just a beat longer than he'd usually bother... and that's about it. Boy's too shy and broken and tired to feel like he's good enough to do much else, let alone have a shot at even being friends with someone like you, so he'll just admire you from afar every once in a while and leave you to live your life while he despises his.
🩸• HoWeVeRrR-
🩸• The apocalypse unleashes its hell before much else can happen, and before you know it, you two are out surviving in a ruined world riddled with horrifying monsters and mutations, hiding out inside Green Home as you form the group together with the rest and try to fight off the monsters inside the building along with it infecting and warping others into gruesome, inhumane figures.
🩸• This boy's absolutely damaged and drained from all he's been through before moving to Green Home, and so it takes a lot of energy for him to slowly, slowly break out of his shell and reach out to you in return. But he will. He just needs time and patience, and Hyun-Su will find himself making the tiniest amount of small talk when you're together with the rest of the surviving group in the apartment complex. Or, most likely, it'll be him giving you most of his food when you're eating by silently and gently pushing it over to you, no eye contact, no words.
🩸• Before you, he didn't have the slightest will or reason to live, and so the only idea he can think up while dragging himself around the wreck of Green Home along with the rest of the group of survivors is to follow you around and protect you. The way he wants to die is for you, shoving himself into the way of the monster or whatever else the danger is to take him instead. Hyun-Su's absolutely fine with that idea...
🩸• Until he starts falling in loveee- 😏🖤
🩸• Everyone gets used to the sight of this boy following around after you like a moon-eyed puppy, having a tall, slightly dropping shadow trailing behind your own whenever you go somewhere to find food or weapons or whatever you've been sent to find. From Season One, where Lee Eun-Hyuk tries forcing him to do everything and using his monster side as an advantage, if it involves steering clear of you or putting you in any danger, boy's had enough. Hyun-Su will defend himself in his own quiet but intense way, his dark glare bleeding into Eun-Hyuk's with a few mumbling words of a threat before he wanders off to find you again.
🩸• Hyun-Su does consider trying to completely leave you alone, since everyone's aware that he's dangerous with his monster brimming to the surface from inside of him and his other symptoms and dangerous instability being infected, but it feels like the worst form of torture. He's alone again, in a world grimmer than the last, and he has no idea what to do with himself except feel like crying and telling you everything about everything when you sit by him and ask him if he's doing alright.
🩸• I think that this guy would be mega touch-starved after living in isolation for so long after all the bullying and tragedies with his family, so having you as a comforting voice of reason and warmth is something he can't help but melt into after you've been unspoken friends during the apocalypse and doesn't have the fight left in him to reject you if you try to clean bloodstains and patch up his wounds after a nasty confrontation. After that, it's safe to say that out of the whole group of survivors together in Green Home, he'll always be naturally apprehensive and distrusting towards them all, but if it's you that's trying to point something out or is worried about something; let him go get his weapon, he's coming with you.
🩸• His general aim and instinct is to protect good people and be some source of help and comfort that's been so unfamiliar to him personally, but with you, instinct is boosted 10000000% because it's you. You're too good for this world, way too good for him, and if you die, he dies. This concept basically becomes something Hyun Su isn't even fully aware of until the point where you might almost die somehow being confronted by monsters with the others, which is where you'll witness himself having a full-on freak-out in his mind and using all his strength and darker, monstrous side to come out on top to save your life.
🩸• After the danger's gone and you're alone in a quiet room to recover and process what happened, that's all the time you need to make it official, hugging him tightly and thanking him, while Hyun-Su shakily pats your back in return before giving up and hugging you back equally as tightly, staying in a protected embrace as long as time will let you.
🩸• There's so much raw love and trust and protection in a relationship with Hyun-Su, it's unbelievable 😭 he's so clingy and sweet and ridiculously romantic in private with you until you point it out, which results in a blushing red sight and not being able to look you in the eye in bashfulness for about a straight hour before he gets over it. In public, it's still obvious that you're together, with smaller signs of affection and togetherness like holding hands, or doing that coupley thing where you whisper together in the back corners of rooms or give each other brief, subtle looks that say everything you need to understand what it means and where to run or go or something.
🩸• At first, he is a little reluctant to get too close to you because of that lingering fear of accidentally hurting you or his monster side popping out to ruin everything, but with some time and small steps, he'll eventually give up trying to be overly cautious and let him be wholly soothed by you, which was the biggest relief of all for him.
🩸• But just as you're getting properly closer and in touch with each other as romantic partners as well as best friends and survivors in this mess together, his monster alter ego personality will find it the perfect time to mess around with his head and find a way to overpower Hyun-Su, meeting you properly in the process.
🩸• Now, his monster side is a whole other story when it comes to personality, but if you think that means you'll be left alone or hated or something, think AgAiN, and then again, because no :)
🩸• Hyun-Su's monstrous side is darker, daring, dangerous, and with you, madly possessive and protective. I mean, he won't even try to hold himself back from taking things to extremes and spilling as much blood as necessary if he gets a weird vibe from someone around you, or if someone outrightly tries to attack you. Even if it's a monster like him, there's enough threat in thrashing them through a few solid walls and leaving some biting words behind before stalking off.
🩸• Monster Hyun-Su's a massive starer by the way, so those unnervingly blue eyes are going to be a sight you'll have to get used to, like literal inches away from your face when you wake up, studying you for wounds, or just studying you in general. There's something about you that's just so fascinating to him, and this side of him literally does not know what boundaries are, so he's all up in your face studying you in curiosity with a soft but dark smirk on his face, while you're just "😐"
🩸• Kind of gross but Monster Hyun-Su has the weirdest affection ever. Like, he enjoys feeding you when you're hungry, mostly questionably bloody-looking things until you get it in his head that you're not Hannibal Lecter and just want a breakfast bar or something 😭 and when this guy goes to hug you, it'll be ridiculously tight, sometimes his wing breaking out of its shell to wrap over you, which is kind of sweet. Until he goes to kiss you and it's not a kiss at all, it's more him living up to his monstrous reputation by licking at your skin like some kind of dog until you squeal and push him away, which he always finds hilarious. Meanwhile, normal Hyun-Su's mortified 😂
🩸• Normal Hyun-Su and Monstrous will most likely make an agreement between them to make sure you're kept alive and as unharmed as possible, protect you from any sort of danger, so if you thought you had a shadow following after you before the split between them, you've got a much more threatening one now, so it'd be very hard for much damage to come to you at all. And good luck if you want some time alone to wander and think by yourself, because if he doesn't straight-up follow you out with no buts like usual, he'll be watching you somewhere close at all times.
🩸• I feel like Hyun-Su's monstrous side would find it funny to make you jump, like falling down out of nowhere from a building or something right in front of you when you thought you were alone or something stupid like that. You'll give him an annoyed glare of protest, and he'll just smirk smugly and teasingly with a fake-innocent shrug of "something wrong?"
🩸• To sum up the whole. predicament you've gotten yourself into here, falling in love with Hyun-Su would pretty much protect you from ninety per cent of the apocalyptic mess of the world while being showered with all the lost love and affection and longing he thought were dead along with all the rest of his hopes and energy from the beginning. And then to keep you on your toes, you've got the monstrosity inside of his head coming out at random moments to obsess over you before Hyun-Su can come back to reality again. But whoever's at the surface, and wherever you two are, he'll always, always be there watching you and with you, one way or another.
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