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ficsbyfrankie · 1 month ago

Text

QUIET

warnings: mdni, smut, 18+, praise, nicknames, no protection

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: y/n had always been great at driving, but handling public spaces? not so much. luckily she had a teammate who supported her well.

a/n: hiiii, english isn’t my first language but ive been reading fics on here and decided - why not, instead of just sending requests, i write them myself! i took inspiration from other writers too, my favourites being @cutieln4 and @lnfours

Being an F1 driver came with a certain lifestyle, most of which detailed partying, clubbing, going to events.

Y/n hated it.

But once again, the team had forced her to attend some event to promote a sponsor, dressed in a tight black dress.

The air was warm in the intense summer months, the fabric of her clothing holding onto her like a second skin, the delicate golden necklace burning against her collarbone.

And where was her bloody teammate?

Shaking the thought off her mind, she stepped out the long limousine, the bright glare of cameras clicking around her instantly.

They hurt her eyes, but she ignored it, flashing her signature smile into the lens of the glowering orbs round her.

The two men behind her, her assigned bodyguards, nudged her forwards past the cameras, towards the large room, packed with people.

Men in shirts and suits sauntered round with women on their arms, like nothing but an accessory.

Y/n hadn’t grown up rich, she didn’t know how to act, how to behave, how to speak to people like them.

She’d never been a fan of close spaces, much less big crowds - it was like someone had dragged her into her own personal nightmare.

Y/n could feel her throat closing up, the edges of her vision going blurry as she pushed through the crowd, trying to find a corner, or some space to calm her mind.

She hardly even paid attention to her surroundings, subconsciously denying a chute of champagne from a waiter, and moving past.

Her breathing grew raspier, thicker even, slicing her way through the crowds, her shaky hand fumbling with the knob of the bathroom door.

Y/n’s face as filled with colour, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she slammed the door of the stall, sitting onto the toilet behind her.

God, she hated this.

She thought F1 was just driving and racing and winning - not glitz and glamour, but she was very wrong.

Y/n hadn’t even realised she was shaking, tears streaming down her face, her mascara smudging, lip quivering, chest heaving.

Her perfect makeup, the make up that the team had forced to be done by professional artists.

Knock, knock, knock.

Y/n jumped at the sound, someone beating their fist on the stall door on the other side of the bathroom.

“Y/n?”

That was Lando’s voice. Her teammate.

He shook every doorknob, all of them open except…her one.

“Y/n?” Lando spoke again, his voice more calmer, the banging stopping, “you on there?”

“Yeah,”

There was a pause for a moment, before Lando spoke. “Can you open the door f’me?”

Y/n hesitated, her fingers brushing against the lock, but she slid it open anyways.

Lando looked panicked, his cheeks flushed, hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it - had he been worried? For her?

His face melted.

“Was it too much? The crowds, bunny?”

Y/n nodded.

She could feel the familiar ache in her throat, the same one she had every time she forced herself to hold back tears, the material at the bottom of the dress pooling round her.

Neither of them cared they were sat on the floor of the bathroom, Lando’s attention solely on the girl in his arms, practically begging for comfort.

“D’you wanna leave?”

Y/n hiccuped, wiping her eyes, ignoring the smudges of black across her cheeks as she looked up.

That made Lando smile.

“Im sorry,”

“Dont be,”

The event was yet to begin, no one at the entrance anymore. Perfect.

Lando tugged on her hand, pulling her along the side of the room, ignoring the few stares they got as he led her away from the crowds.

“We’ll get in trouble,” Y/n hissed, ignoring the butterflies in the bottom of her stomach as Lando held her hand, pulling her to the cars along the road.

“Takeout?”

“Why not?”

There was something almost humorous about leaving an event as glamorous as the sponsor event and getting take out.

And that’s how Y/n and Lando ended up sat rather close together on his sofa, three bags of takeout around them.

Lando had his feet up on the table, one arm still round her waist as he snickered.

“What’s funny?”

“You have ketchup on your face,” he snickered, wiping the red stuff from her facr.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

This was more awkward than she thought.

“You look really pretty tonight,” Lando spoke, his gaze fixed on the burger in his hand, “by the way,”

“Thanks,” she muttered, “you look…good too,”

Y/n’s gaze fell to her own drink, Lando slowly wriggling it free from her hand and placing it softly onto the table.

Yet again, there was a pause, before his lips came to her cheek, soft, gentle, gliding across the apple of her cheek.

Right where his lips met her skin, a faint blush covered her skin, her lashes fluttering.

“This is weird,”

“I know,” Lando groaned, “I’m not sure how to…you know, initiate it,”

“Like this?”

“Wha-?”

Y/n took advantage of his gaze in her, her lips pressing against his.

Lando’s hands were hesitant to come to her waist, pulling her closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

His hands came to the thin material of her panties, ripping it clean in too.

Y/n gasped, Lando’s tongue taking advantage of her open mouth to delve further in.

“Oh fuck, bunny,” Lando’s head fell back as her hips pushed down on his aching member, a wet patch forming on his ever-growing bulge.

“Let me do it,” Lando’s voice was raspy and thicker, an octave lower, as he pushed her hand away from his belt to pull the leather off himself.

His cock jumped free of the restraint of his trousers, thick and long, his tip an angry shade of red.

“Sorry bunny,”

“What- Lando!”

His hands tore the material down from her chest, the dress clean in two as she blushed, the dress now hanging in separate pieces.

Lando’s hands fumbled on the table, grabbing his card as Y/n huffed, dress in nothing, except adorned in her jewellery.

“That was expensive, I spent ages trying to find-!”

“Buy it in every colour,” he pushed the thin card between her lips, a squeak of confusion falling from her mouth.

Lando took his thick cock into his hand, pumping himself slowly as Y/n put the card back down onto the side, one hand coming to pull her chin to face him.

“Spit,”

“What?”

Lando held out his hand as Y/n blushed, before she spat into his palm.

“Good,” Lando muttered, spreading the warm liquid down his length, right to his shaft as Y/n rubbed small circles into her bundle of nerves.

Y/n gasped as he took his cock into his hand, slapping it softly onto her clit, spreading her own slickness through her folds.

His tongue came to the swell of her breast, slowly dragging round her perked nipple as Y/n gasped, head falling back.

“Sit on it bunny,” Lando whispered, his hands squeezed the flesh of her waist, guiding his tip to her entrance.

“Oh fuck…that’s it baby, just like that,” Lando cursed, his fingers digging into her skin as she sank onto his tip, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp.

“You can take all of it, bunny,” he held Y/n on his lap, lowering her fully until he bottomed out.

The bulge was evident in her tummy, and she could feel every ridge and vein settled inside of her as her hips twitched, Lando’s dick jerking softly inside of her.

“Ride me…please,” Lando whispered, his eyes a darker than usual, pupils blown up a hundred times.

She started off slow, bouncing up and down on him as he groaned, head falling back onto the sofa.

“That’s it bunny…taking me so well, aren’t you?”

Dirty talk, Y/n’s biggest weakness.

“Been picturing how you’d- fuck, how you’d look riding me…with my dick in you,” he cursed, “better than anything I imagined,”

Y/n squeaked, the words spurring her on somehow further, ignoring the ache of her legs as she bounced on him, the slick of her pussy making it ten times easier.

“This pretty little pussy…gonna be the death of me, bunny,” he muttered.

“Lando,” Y/n whimpered, almost whining, “my legs…they hurt, please…”. Lando scoffed almost mockingly, his hands lifting her slightly.

Y/n shrieked, the sudden slam of her hips against him unexpected, the feeling reverberating through her body and core.

She could feel the undeniable knot building up in her stomach, as could Lando, his tip slamming into her g-spot again, and again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Lando cursed, still holding her up as his thrusts became sloppier, the sound of his cock ramming against her slickness becoming louder.

“Fucking addicted, I swear,” he groaned, “this pretty little pussy…like a drug,”

Y/n was the first to fall over the edge, her vision going white and orgasm flooding through with a cry as her head fell back.

There was something so mesmerising about how her hair fell back behind her, how her body convulsed on his cock, like she was possessed.

He held her tightly, riding her through her high.

Lando followed shortly after, his hips snapping into her once, twice, before he pulled himself out, his cock pressing against her thigh as his seed spilled out.

His hips spasmed, streaks of hot white cum painting her flushed tummy.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, mouth falling open, lips parted.

Y/n said nothing, her chest rising and falling as Lando held her, his chin resting on top of her head.

“Bunny that was…that was amazing,” he breathed out.

The girl remained silent, Lando’s chin on her head as she panted, her breathing coming back to.

Lando’s hand ran through her hair, the wisps of hair sliding through his fingers like silk as she calmed, her chest stilling shortly, resuming to its normal pace.

“Y’alright?” he finally spoke, voice deeper yet kinder and warmer.

Y/n nodded.

And for the first time, she felt truly loved.

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yandere-sins · 11 months ago

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Bad Guy

First Prompt! And I just so happen to find a character that I thought would really match the vibe I wanted to go for. I'm so excited to write for him since I've been mostly keeping out of writing for LaDS, but I do love the characters ♥

Fandom: Love and Deepspace Pairings: Yandere!Sylus x AFAB!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Dub-Con, BJ, Gagging, Non-Con Touches, Lingerie, Reader is a virgin and inexperienced, Pet names, Degradation, Nicknames), Mention of Body Issues, Forced Captivity, Swear Words, Long Post Prompt: @sintember Innocence - What would you do to preserve it, what will be done to tarnish it?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Come now, you make me look like the bad guy."

Legs quivering, you could barely stomach looking down at yourself. It didn't help that you felt how skimpy the outfit was with every move you made. Felt the strings that kept the fabric together pressed into your skin, bit you as if the shame was not enough harm. But looking up and straight ahead was not an option you had either. Not when you knew the smirk on the face that awaited you. Knew about the hungry, predatory sheen in Sylus' eyes if you met them head-on.

Why you? Why did he choose you? You kept wondering as you stood in his bedroom, barely two steps from the man who had ruined your life. You couldn't think of a good reason as to why he needed to keep you to himself, lock you up like an exotic animal, and demand to be the only one to put their eyes on you. Maybe if you had been especially pretty or incredibly rich, his infatuation would have made sense. But it really didn't. None of his actions made sense.

And by now, you didn't even know if you wanted to cry or be angry with him anymore.

The sheer, triangle coverings did nothing to hide, only to expose your nipples, strained as you felt the nubs getting harder. The fabric rubbed them a little more every time you breathed, lungs expanding. Bitterness overcame you as pleasure turned to shame turned to helplessness. You could only stand there, both hands reaching down to hide your privates, all while you heard the man in front of you chuckle.

"Glad to amuse you," you muttered bitterly, biting your lip so hard it tore beneath your teeth. Wearing an outfit that split right around your pussy, giving even easier access than it gave a full view of it, was proof of how you couldn't win against him. If he wanted to, he could be sneaky and uncaring about what you wanted, and forcing you to wear this was yet another challenge he was winning to hold above your head. Sylus had long begun to chip away at any pride or dignity you had, finally ready to deliver the final blow. But although you wanted to break down and cry, hide from the embarrassment, your feeble fighting spirit refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break down and beg for your clothes back.

You'd be giving him exactly what he wanted—power.

Power over you. The upper hand in this month-long dispute. You had sought him out for a deal, an equal exchange. And he had broken that deal the moment you put your trust in him just so he could keep you for whatever twisted reason. People had warned you of deals with the devil, but you had been too stupid to listen, now finding yourself in a situation too horrifying to speak of. Captivity.

It wasn't like he made you work to earn your keep. There were three meals provided to you every day, and Sylus tried to join whenever he could. He bought you expensive clothes, accessories, and entertainment, always asking what you needed, but never reflecting on his actions, not even when you told him he couldn't buy your love. There was constant surveillance, and the outside was a threat to your life, so the windows and doors stayed locked tightly. You had no means to escape, only able to stay indoors and wait like a good pet.

"But you are the bad guy here, forcing me to wear this."

Your addition seemed to make him thoughtful, a small hum escaping Sylus before he extended his arm towards you. It was a bad idea, you knew that. But if you refused to take his hand, he'd simply come to get you, and you couldn't afford to struggle looking like this.

Embarrassed, you forced one hand away from hiding what should have never been exposed in front of the likes of the leader of Onychinus, someone you thought would be interested in what you had to offer in exchange for the help you needed. Now, it almost seemed like all he wanted was your body, although you doubted it. You never liked seeing yourself in the mirror, but you didn't know anyone who enjoyed seeing themselves. You just thought it was normal not to feel like you were special, and yet, Sylus made you wear something that hid nothing of your insecurities from him.

A shuddering breath escaped you as his fingers wrapped around your hand like a snake suffocating its victim. But he moved on quickly from the threatening touch, twisting and turning his palm until it slithered beneath yours, fingers entwining before he gave you a jerk, forcing you towards him.

You couldn't help but wonder what changed in that one month, although you were lying if you said you didn't see the change in your captor. You thought he was out for ransom at first, keeping you just for the sake of exploiting more out of you than what you were willing to give. Then you caught him watching you, eyes almost softening as he observed. He'd done more than enough touching and manhandling over the course of the month, but he never forced you to wear lingerie and expose yourself.

Admittedly, your fall wasn't graceful as you were pulled forth. Your legs staggered over the sudden jerk, your free hand coming down just behind Sylus's shoulder. One of your legs hit the edge of the couch, knee bending with nowhere else to go until your shin was settled next to his thigh. You sacked forward, the strength in your torso handicapped from the awkward position, but it was better this way. Anything was better than to look into his face.

"The bad guy, eh? So far, I've been pretty nice to you. I have no idea what you mean."

Sylus played with the skimpy fabric around your waist, rubbing the material between his fingers as if to gouge its value. He was tugging at the strings, threatening to undo the triple knots you had made to keep it all together. All while you were shivering from the cold and the hatred he invoked inside of you.

Anger flooded your mind, and you threw your head back, ready to let him have it! Too late did you realize he baited you, forcing you to look at him despite your refusal, the grin on his lips disgustingly victorious, his expression almost besotted now that you met his eyes. There was strength to be drawn from your embarrassment, fury brewing in the pit of your stomach. Your free hand curled into a fist, and you fixated your gaze on his stupid face, ready to bash in that smirk he loved to give you so much!

"Not quick enough," Sylus lamented as he caught your fist in his hand, closing around it in a painful grip. You winced, and he brought your arm down, twisting it behind your back while squeezing the other hand he hadn't given up on holding. "Now, now, let's play nice. And here I thought you liked my gift."

Slinging his whole arm around your midriff, Sylus suddenly pulled you on top of his lap, your legs losing balance, and forced your hips down to settle on top of the bulge in his pants. The second your crotch met his, you felt nauseous, the helplessness making you desperate to get away. You hated every second of this interaction, hated this man for all the abuse he put you through. Was this what he had wanted all along? A sex toy? Why wait this long if he intended to defile you anyway?

Even though you tried to be still as a board, when Sylus bent you backward, closely following behind, you shivered as his hot breath grazed over your nipple. You stared down in horror as his tongue slid out, only the tip of it flicking over your nipple before he watched the nub bounce back into place and, using the flat side of his tongue, pressed down onto it. You shuddered, biting your lip again to hold back a moan.

The room wasn't cold, but his breath felt incredibly hot through the mesh fabric of the coverings, his tongue almost like a hot iron pressed to your skin. Sylus looked up, and you saw the agonizing sight of yourself in the reflection of the red irises, exposed and vulnerable. He smirked, opening his mouth just far enough to take your nub between his teeth, pulling it towards him as you sucked in your breath.

You couldn't help it. Couldn't help the pleasure zapping down your spine and between your legs, the mewl that escaped you as Sylus's teeth slipped off your nipple and bit into the mesh fabric. Your reflection looked so pathetic, but he seemed pleased as he kissed your abused nub, as if to appease it after his teasing.

"I heard something interesting," he muttered against your chest, trailing kisses from one side to the other, briefly burying his face in your body and letting out a content rumble. "Heard you've been wholly neglected, poor thing."

"What do you--"

Giving the hand behind your back a firm shake, warning it to stay in place, Sylus released it, only to drive his hand down to your ass. He slipped lower as you piped up, only to silence you again with his touch. It made you realize fairly quickly what he meant, his fingers curiously slipping through your slick.

"That's not true at all," you argued, closing your eyes and shying away from his keen gaze.

"Really now?"

Feeling his lips curl into a grin above your other nipple was an unfamiliar torture, the fabric of the cover transferring every movement dutifully, heightening your sensitivity. "So the reason you are so wet is because you are experienced. Is that what you're saying? You're not a virgin whose anticipation is making you eager, Kitten? Did you secretively hope I'd help you release some of the tension?"

You felt his fingers apply pressure to your cunt, threatening to slip inside and forcing you to shoot upwards, recoiling from the touch. The throb of his cock beneath your slit vanished, and you cursed your body for aching, almost longing to return to his lap. But how could you? At this rate, he was truly going to take your virginity from you, even though you tried to act as if he wasn't.

It was such a stupid sentiment to cling to the concept of virginity, especially in the situation you were in. There could be potential gain by losing it, yet you were holding on to it like a lifeline. Considering that, in one month, you had lost all kinds of things that made your life yours, it was understandable that crossing this line scared you. It was a small rebellion that would prove you weren't completely lost to this man's whims if only you could keep it.

"No! No, wait!" you huffed as his hold on you tightened, trying to keep you in place so he could continue evading every little piece of privacy you still had. If only for your sanity, you had to at least try to conserve it. You weren't keeping yourself for marriage necessarily, but having your first time with the man that kidnapped and imprisoned you would definitely do you no good.

"I'm... I'm unwell! I'll do something else for you, but not this. Let's not go there... Sir."

Halting all his movements, Sylus's brows furrowed, and he leaned back, looking up at you. Of course, you didn't miss how he tensed when you called him Sir, but even though it cost you a lot of your pride to call him that, it was the most you got for a reaction. You could only assume he could see the fake, nonchalant expression you forced, perhaps your embarrassment too. But you hoped it would deter him. When you looked back at him, he almost seemed... concerned. Hopefully, that would be in your favor.

"Are you sick?" he asked, both accusatory and worried at the same time. As if he was offended, you didn't tell him.

"No, I'm... Actually yeah! I feel sick! I got cramps, and I'm sure my period is just around the corner--"

"Darling," he interrupted you, and your heart rate quicked at the sly grin playing around his lips. "You're so adorable when you try to lie, but I'll have you know that a bit of blood has never stopped me.

Tell me the truth, or I'll assume you're just nervous."

Fuck, you thought to yourself, chewing your stinging lip again as you thought about what to do. Sylus returned back to your chest, pressing his lips to your unattended nipple again before sucking it in for a tease. You drew in your breath sharply as you thought about a lesser evil to deter him from taking your last strand of dignity, the one thing you could hold over his head. But it would cost you greatly to protect your virginity, and you almost wavered in your determination to keep it a secret.

"I'll... I'll suck you off."

Sylus stilled, and you saw his eyes widening. For a moment, no one said anything, and although it was hard to endure his inquiring gaze, you forced yourself to face it head-on, showing him you meant it. One of his eyes felt especially exposing, the red so much more vibrant. But just a moment later, his lips curled into a wide smirk, freeing your nipple as he drew back.

His expression was almost soft as he gazed over your body, all the way down to where your hips met. You saw the longing in his gaze and felt the throbbing of his cock against your pussy, but then he looked up at you again, and for a moment, you felt adoration wash over you. Approval, genuine desire.

And it was gone right the next second.

Before you knew it, Sylus lifted you off his lap. You yelped in surprise, only to sink to your knees, his legs spread widely to comfortably accommodate you between them. "Alright then," Sylus chuckled. "Show me what you got."

Another wave of shameful heat rushed into your head as you watched the cocky bastard wait for you to stick to your words. Excitement and impatience radiated from the way he looked down at you to the tapping of his food next to your thigh. He'd not wait forever for you to act, but he was enjoying your hesitation.

Swallowing hard, your mouth had never felt as dry as it was now. With jittery hands, you reached upwards, seeing the stains you had left on his trousers and feeling the heat underneath your palms. But before you could unzip Sylus's pants, he caught your wrists in his grip, clicking his tongue at you, chastizing.

"I'm sure you know a more creative way to start this."

You were disgusted by the thought, but even a virgin like you could imagine what he wanted. Lifting your butt off the floor, you placed your teeth around the zipper, slowly dragging it down. Sylus chuckled, but to your surprise, when you looked up at him angrily, he let go of your wrists and looked away, hiding his full face from you. Was he ashamed? Mocking you? Or did he enjoy seeing you opening his trousers with your teeth that much?

You used the moment of freedom for your hands to unbutton the pants on top, completely taken aback when without the restraints of underwear, his cock sprung free, surprise and horror overcoming you. "You're not the only one who was anticipating this," Sylus clarified, and although he still hid his face behind his hand, the gleam in his eye was as mischievous as ever.

Bastard, you thought, but a small part of you wondered if he had been walking around in just his pants all day or if he changed out of his underwear before meeting with you. It was a completely scientific question of course! You needed to know how long he anticipated and planned this. If his sudden carnal desire had been a surprise or a long time coming, although you never thought it existed.

"Are you giving up already, Sweetheart?" Sylus tore you out of your thoughts. "Less scowling, more sucking."

For the record, you didn't do as he instructed because he told you to. You did it because you wanted to get it over with. You kept telling yourself this, over and over, even as you brushed your fingertips over his length. But there was one problem. One you couldn't tell him about.

You had no idea what to do.

Of course, the general concept of a blowjob was familiar to even you, but how were you going to pull it off? Was it enough to take it into your mouth? Did you need to kiss it? Would it taste bad? Could you even put your lips around it?

There was no time to panic and let Sylus find out you were an inexperienced virgin with no idea what you were doing. His cock bopped impatiently in front of you, waiting for your caress, and you had to please it regardless of not knowing how.

Reaching up, you wrapped a hand around it, steadying it with your grip. The stiff feeling surrounded by soft skin was almost mesmerizing, leaving you in a moment of awe before you returned to reality. You expected something rougher, more like its owner, but the heat and eagerness spoke of vulnerability more than Sylus's usual domineering ways.

There was a click of his tongue from above, and you knew your time was running out. Giving him a coy glance from below, you leaned forward, steading yourself on Sylus's thighs to kiss the throbbing cock in your hand. You felt his leg tense beneath your palm, then relax, and when he neither mocked nor pushed you away, you concluded you were onto something.

Kissing a trail up the shaft, you smoothed over his cock, taking note of the ridges and veins that seemed to pop out the longer you were giving it attention. Soon, you reached the edge of the tip, the form of his shaft dipping into itself for a moment before forming the bulb on top. It was so fascinating that, for a moment, you forgot the situation you were in, your tongue dipping out to lick along the edge out of curiosity.

Sylus drew in a sharp breath, and you looked up with more inquisitiveness. For the first time, you saw an expression akin to pain on his face. You wondered if you were hurting him somehow before satisfaction hit you. Red was drawn along his cheeks, and you realized it was pleasure and not pain; the firmness of his expression was merely showcasing that he was holding back. How gracious.

Slipping the flat of your tongue over his tip, you soon brushed your lips over it. Cock jerking, the tender flesh jumped against your mouth, smearing a strange-tasting liquid all over it. Precum, you thought to yourself, recognizing that this meant you were doing something right.

It almost got you excited.

You remembered the way Sylus had played with your nipples, the teasing and sucking. The way he forced you to feel pleasure despite not wanting to, and it gave you an idea of how to return the favor. If it worked on you, it might just work on him the same way! Sure, he wanted this, but you'd not make it easy on him!

Wrapping your mouth around the tip, you began to suck gently, drawing your lips lightly back and forth and wetting the top to make it more smooth. Sylus groaned, his right hand coming down to cup yours on top of his thigh, pressing it into the muscles there.

"That's it, Kitten," he mumbled, and you felt his hand brush up your neck and into your hair. Immediately, you drew back, staring at him with your mouth forced shut. His cock bopped in complaint, and Sylus's expression hardened, but you challenged him with your glare.

"No forcing it," you established, getting great satisfaction from his annoyance. "You will let me do it."

"Fine," he spat out. "Hope you got a bit more than that, though. Otherwise, we'll be here forever, Sweetheart."

"Fuck you," you bit back, not waiting for him to respond before putting your lips back around his cock. This time, you went deeper, his tip brushing your teeth as you weren't used to his size yet. His hand sunk back to the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands of hair there. You could feel him testing out the boundaries of your rules, applying pressure softly ever so often. Still, after you drew back one more time, he gave up, the warmth of his palm remaining unmoving at the back of your head.

"No fun," he complained, but his words had no bite. They were followed by a soft groan, Sylus's head rolling to the side as he watched you work your way down his shaft. It was more strain than you expected, his cock seemingly never-ending, even when you forced it deeper than anything ever before. You'd not accept defeat, not let him win this round, especially after coming this far!

But it was nasty. Drool dripped down your chin, and your sucking became more and more sloppy. You barely had enough strength or training with your tongue to keep up an even pace, and your desperation to get this over with made everything quite boring, evident by Sylus not reacting like you thought he would while you worked your mouth over his cock.

"Is this your first time?" he finally asked, and you grimaced, mouth full of cock and exposed anger burning in your eyes.

Sylus smirked, and you knew that he knew.

"Did you really think you could hide the fact from me that you have no idea what you're doing? Come let me help."

Without waiting for your response, he pressed your head forward, tears shooting to your eyes as the newly reached deepness pried your jaw open. "Now, use your tongue and lick upwards all the way. Slowly."

You hated this! You hated him! You hated this man so much!

"That's it, Kitten."

Pulling you back by the roots of your hair, the strain disappeared, but all the drool and fluids pooled inside your mouth, making you cough. Sylus showed you no mercy, even after seeing you struggle to keep yourself together.

"Now the tip again, just like the beginning. You need to alternate sometimes."

Reluctantly, you opened your mouth again, willing the pain away as you began to suck and lick at his tip. The next time Sylus pushed you forward, you braced yourself, although he didn't go as deep, instead bopping your head back and forth. As much as you hated following his instructions, you did the same with your tongue as when he forced you to take it in completely, moving the muscle along the sides while Sylus directed your head.

This time, he let out a loud, content sigh, his head falling back. His pressure never stopped, though, sometimes slamming you forward to dangerous depths again, other times letting you rest at his tip. There was a steady increase in speed, and you felt the control slip from you pitifully as he worked you up and down his shaft as he pleased. Were you just a sex toy to him? That's what you wondered as the first tears fell, your reflection so pitiful in Sylus's eyes.

Although, he seemed ecstatic for some reason.

His nails dug into your hand still on his thigh as he pushed you steadily deeper with every thrust of his head. Soon, you felt the tickle of the fabric of his pants against your nose, his cock taking up all the space in your mouth as it throbbed. You, too, dug your nails into his thigh as you heard Sylus breathe heavily, knowing all too well what was going to happen now.

You couldn't believe he'd be so barbaric, knowing it was your first time, as to force you to take all of his dick inside as he came. But with a slight thrust of his hip and his hand pressing down at the same time, you were caught with his cock throat-deep as hot splurts of semen sprayed everywhere. Sylus grunted as he came, and you couldn't help but splutter, gagging on the length shoved down your throat, and almost fainted from the lack of air as he waited until the very last drop of his cum to be emptied inside of you.

If not for his cock stuffing your mouth, you might have thrown up from disgust.

He was breathing heavily while your lungs barely shuddered. As if he regained clarity, Sylus suddenly pulled you off him, and his cum spilled from your lips together with his cock. Tears, semen, and drool all dripped from your pitiful face, and you two stared at each other, both a little less lucid than before.

The hand at the back of your neck slipped forward, thumb grazing over the side of your mouth before he slipped it inside. A grin spread over his lips; this time, he looked nothing short of insane from the satisfaction as he pushed the fluids back into your mouth, seeing the remnants of the havoc he wrecked. But then his expression grew soft, and you hated to admit it, but this was probably the gentlest look he had ever given you.

"Good job, Darling."

You choked as you held back a sob. The situation was so maddening it was almost funny. Just seconds ago, it felt like he'd kill you with his dick, and now he was praising you, looking at you as if you were the greatest treasure in this world.

But you didn't have the time to lament. Not even a moment later, you were pulled from the ground, set down pussy to cock on his lap, feeling the sticky heat from his crotch matching your own. You hadn't even noticed your own arousal, the way your body found appropriate to act. It only shamed you more.

"You were so pretty down there, doing amazing, Darling."

Next thing you knew, he had toppled you over and laid you down on the couch beside him while your eyes widened. You snapped your legs shut immediately, although his hands roaming downwards snaked their way between them. Looking at you, unblinking, a victorious smile played along Sylus's lips before he effortlessly pried your legs apart, not even breaking a sweat.

"We said only sucking off!" you mewled, part scared, part frustrated. What else did you need to do to make him stop? Why was he doing all of this? Why did it have to be you?

Resting his lips on your thigh, Sylus kissed it briefly, eyes closed, appearing almost reverent as he peppered some more kisses.

"You said that," he finally muttered against your skin, and all the hope to make him see reason in the end was lost with just a few words. "I am going to return the favor now. Can't let anyone think I'd not take good care of my Darling."

"You are so mean," you whispered, tears now falling freely. You didn't care anymore if he saw them. If they could soften his heart—good! If not, it didn't matter anymore. He was going to do what he wanted anyway; there was nothing you could do but to let him.

"Sure, I can be mean," Sylus chuckled, but his expression darkened. It was unlike his usual cockiness, and it infuriated you. How dare he feel upset about your comment! How dare he wallow in your misery! Your pain wasn't his to share! He didn't get to feel bad from seeing you hurt by the actions he inflicted!

So why did he look like you were the one hurting him?

"After all..." he mumbled, leaning forward until his face hovered over yours. For a moment, he simply stared at you, and you wondered what he could find in your terrified gaze. How far he could really look into your soul and if that would deter him or if he'd still choose to ignore your feelings in all of this like he had ever since he locked you up.

"You made me the bad guy, Darling."

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kiwriteswords · 4 months ago

Text

The Prophecy [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist|| Ao3||Word Count: 4k|| AN: This is for the lovelies who have also felt unlovable, defeated, and gotten their heart broken time after time. This was originally supposed to go in an entirely different direction when I started writing this during the week, but now it is purely self-indulgant...BUT writing this was cheaper than therapy. I also might be embarrassed by this in the morning and delete this--idk LOL. Tags/Warnings: female reader, alcohol tw, reader has self-worth issues, reader goes on bad dates, might be slightly ooc for hotch idk, hotch is no.1 reader defender, hotch falls first, whipped!hotch, insecure!reader, heartbroken reader, protective!hotch, mainly hotch's POV, reader is 100% a mary sue--sorry, not sorry. Summary: Hotch watched you get treated incorrectly time and time again by your poor choice in men. Over time, he begins to try and show you what you deserve.

In the cool, dim light of the early morning, Aaron Hotchner walked into the BAU roundtable room, his footsteps quiet against the polished floor.

The team was already there-

Everyone but you gathered around the table, their voices a low murmur of concern. He paused at the door, observing them--

A rare moment of unguarded conversation among the agents.

Your name was circling the room. He knew his team wasn’t one who gossiped, per se. But this was different than workplace chatter; this seemed…this seemed important.

"Did you see her last night?" JJ asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Spencer found her crying in the parking lot.

Across the table, Spencer nodded, his youthful face more solemn than usual. "She was in her car. Just...sitting there. It was late."

Penelope shook her head, her vibrant accessories jangling softly with the movement. "That guy she's been seeing, the one who keeps popping in and out of her life? He stood her up again. I mean, who does that to someone as wonderful as her?"

Derek’s jaw tightened visibly. "We need to tell her to cut him loose. The guy's no good."

Emily leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. "It's not our place to say who she should see, but it's tough watching her go through this."

Rossi, ever the sage, swirled the coffee in his cup before speaking. "The heart has reasons that reason knows nothing of, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch someone you care about get hurt."

Hotch stepped into the room fully, the conversation pausing as all eyes turned to him. He moved to his usual seat, the chair's soft scrape punctuating the sudden silence.

"How is she this morning?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of concern that matched his team's.

No one seemed ready to answer. It was a telling silence, one that spoke volumes about their collective unease for your well-being.

Clearing his throat, Hotch folded his hands on the table, his gaze settling on each of his team members.

"We're a team, and we look out for each other. It's not just about being agents; it's about being there for one another as people." His eyes darkened with a quiet intensity. "We need to make sure she knows she's supported, not just as a colleague, but as a friend."

Just then, the door opened again, and you stepped in. There was a slight redness around your eyes, a testament to the previous night's tears, but you masked it well with a brave smile.

"Morning, everyone," you said, your voice steady despite the slight quiver you hoped no one noticed.

The room filled with choruses of "Morning," each agent offering you a smile, but their eyes were too knowing, too filled with empathy.

As the meeting proceeded, Hotch found himself watching you more often than usual.

You were the glue of the team--

Always brightening up the room.

Always making sure everyone else was okay.

It pained him to see that light dimmed, even just a fraction.

He made a mental note to check in with you later, privately, to offer a listening ear if you needed it.

Throughout the briefing, your contributions were as insightful as ever, but Hotch noticed the small things--

The way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

How you were quieter than usual.

Less inclined to join in the lighter moments of banter.

When the meeting broke up, Hotch lingered, watching as you gathered your notes and prepared to head to your office.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. It was not just about being a leader now; it was about being a friend and maybe--

Just maybe, something more.

In that quiet, somber room, as the early rays of sunlight began to filter through the blinds, Hotch realized just how deeply your well-being affected him.

The realization was sudden, like a shift in the air--

A silent acknowledgement of a burgeoning concern that felt a lot like the beginning of something far deeper.

Not even a week later, the office was nearly empty.

The hum of computers and the distant sound of night shift agents were the only accompaniment to the soft clacking of Hotch’s shoes against the polished floor as he prepared to leave for the evening.

It had been a long day, filled with the usual demands and stresses, but none of that seemed to matter now as he rounded the corner and stopped short.

There you were, pacing the bullpen in a dress that took his breath away--

A stunning array of shimmering fabric that cascaded down in elegant folds, catching the dim office light and throwing it back out in soft, glowing ripples.

It was unlike anything he had ever seen you wear; the dress made for a special occasion, its beauty stark against the backdrop of the BAU’s utilitarian surroundings.

Looking at it, it reminded him of your personality. A reflection of light on everyone around you. Made up of so many pieces--beautiful in itself, but for others to appreciate as well.

Your face, however, told a different story.

It was etched with disappointment, the hurt in your eyes stark and unguarded as you moved restlessly across the floor. Hotch’s concern deepened, his initial pause turning into a determined stride towards you.

You didn’t notice him at first, lost in your troubled thoughts. When you finally saw him, the surprise on your face quickly morphed into a strained smile.

"Oh, Hotch, I didn’t see you there."

"Clearly dressed for a special occasion," he commented softly, his voice carrying a note of concern. "You look...beautiful."

He meant it, but the compliment was tinged with…worry as he took in the full picture--

The meticulously done makeup, the curls in your hair falling just so, the perfume that seemed a touch too poignant for the empty office.

You chuckled weakly, the sound hollow.

"Was supposed to be a special night. I had a date, but..." Your voice trailed off, and you shrugged, a brittle edge to your movements. "He cancelled. Less than an hour ago. Guess it wasn't as special to him."

Hotch frowned, noting the weariness that seemed to seep through your attempt at humor.

"You shouldn’t have to feel this way," he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering. "You put so much into this, into everything you do. It's not right, him not seeing that."

Your smile faltered, and you looked away, a self-deprecating laugh escaping you. "Maybe I’m just too much, you know? Maybe it’s just... me--”

"No." Hotch said firmly, cutting through your words. His expression was stern, but his eyes were kind, a rare show of open frustration mixing with something softer. "It’s not you. It’s him. Anyone who fails to see what they have right in front of them doesn’t deserve it."

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the bullpen seemed to hold its breath. The air between you was charged, filled with the unspoken thoughts and emotions swirling around.

"You deserve someone who sees you," Hotch continued, his voice emphatic--passionate even. "Not just the effort you put into one evening, but every day…the way you look out for everyone here, how you keep us…together. You deserve much more than last-minute cancellations and excuses."

The words seemed to hang in the air, heavy and sincere. You swallowed hard, the impact of his words slowly sinking in. The corners of your mouth twitched, a ghost of a genuine smile beginning to form. "Thank you, Hotch," you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears. "I...I needed to hear that."

Hotch nodded, his posture relaxing slightly as he sensed the shift in your demeanor. "Anyone would be lucky to have you," he added, the truth of his statement clear in his steady gaze.

As the silence stretched between you, a palpable connection in the quiet of the almost deserted office, it was clear that something had shifted.

Not just in the night. But perhaps, just maybe--in the space that lay between personal heartache and the promise of something deeper, something real that was just beginning to take root in the dim light of the bullpen.

About a month had passed, and Hotch kept a close eye on you. He hated that not much had changed for you. He wanted to see you return to the office with a smile on your face one day.

That you’d share you met someone who charmed you and held space for you in a way you deserved.

Someone that treated you right.

The way he wishes he could tattoo it into your brain all of the ways he knows you should be treated. The way he wishes he could treat you that way--

Just to show you.

Or what he told himself when he began thinking about how he wouldn’t stand you up.

How he’d hold every door open for you.

How he’d be prompt and make sure you knew you could take his word.

Yet here you were.

The local bar was buzzing with the usual Friday night crowd, the atmosphere lively and the lights dimly lit, casting a warm, inviting glow over the small group from the BAU.

Laughter and chatter filled the air as the team, having wrapped up a particularly grueling set of cases, gathered around a large table cluttered with empty glasses and half-eaten appetizers.

Hotch, who usually opted out of such gatherings, found himself not only attending but also genuinely enjoying the camaraderie.

His eyes frequently searched you out, making sure you were handling the evening well.

As the night progressed and the drinks flowed more freely, the conversation deepened into personal territories. You, slightly more uninhibited from the alcohol, began to share more openly about your recent dating woes.

"And then," you laughed, though the humor didn't quite reach your eyes, "he just disappears. Poof! Like magic. One day, it's text after text, and then nothing. Like I made it all up in my head."

You laughed. It echoed. He watched, heart sinking. You were drifting. Away.

The team's laughter quieted down as they listened, their expressions a mixture of sympathy and discomfort. Rossi raised his eyebrows, shooting a look at Hotch, who was watching you intently.

Your smile faded as you continued, the alcohol loosening your tongue further. "I don't know, maybe it's just me. I dunno…Maybe I'm just...unlovable."

A heavy silence fell over the table, the word hanging in the air like a thick cloud.

The team exchanged awkward glances--

Clearly at a loss.

Hotch's jaw tightened as he saw the self-deprecation take a darker turn, his concern deepening.

"That's not true," Hotch finally said, his voice firm and commanding attention. "Being ghosted says more about his character than it does about your worth. You are... incredibly important, not just to anyone you date but to all of us here." His voice softened, "You light up every room you enter, and if someone can't see that, it's their loss, not yours."

The table went quiet, everyone looking between you and Hotch, sensing the weight of his words.

Your eyes welled up with tears--

The kindness in his voice breaking through the veneer of humor you had used as a shield all night.

"Excuse me," you muttered, quickly standing and making your way to the bar without meeting anyone’s eyes.

As you stood and made your way to the bar, the rest of the team exchanged knowing looks, their earlier conversation giving way to a shared understanding of what needed to happen next.

Derek caught Hotch's arm as he started to follow you. "Man, you see the way she lights up around you?" he said in a low voice, his gaze serious. "She deserves someone who's going to show up for her, really show her how she should be treated."

Emily chimed in, her expression earnest. "And not just show up, Hotch. You need to say it, too. She needs to hear how you feel about her. It’s obvious to all of us, and honestly, it’s been a long time coming."

Rossi, ever the sage, gave Hotch a firm pat on the back. "You’re a good man, Aaron. You both deserve a shot at happiness. Don’t let your chance slip by because you’re too cautious to take the next step."

Hotch looked between his friends, their faces reflecting a mix of encouragement and insistence.

The weight of their words settled over him, reinforcing what he already felt in his heart.

He nodded, a resolve firming in his eyes as he turned to follow you to the bar.

"Thanks," he murmured, grateful for their support.

The team watched for a moment longer, satisfied with their intervention, before they started to gather their things, their subdued waves goodbye mingling with quiet hopes for what might develop between their stoic leader and the woman who had brought a new light to his eyes.

Hotch watched them leave before turning his attention back to you--

Now alone at the bar.

Throwing back another drink.

With a newfound determination, he was ready to take the advice of his team to heart and to make this evening a turning point--

Not just for tonight, but for all the days to come.

He approached quietly, taking the seat next to you. The bartender moved away to give you some privacy, sensing the shift in mood.

"You don’t have to try so hard to be okay all the time," Hotch said gently, his voice barely above the noise of the bar. "It’s alright to not be alright."

You turned to look at him, the dim light of the bar highlighting the vulnerability in your expression. "I just don’t want to be this person, Hotch. This...sad, pathetic person who gets left all the time."

"You are not pathetic," Hotch countered softly, his tone earnest. "You’re human. And being human means you feel things deeply. It’s one of the things...one of the many things that makes you so special."

Your eyes met his.

A mix of gratitude and sadness swirling within.

"Why are you so good to me?" you asked, a small, wistful smile playing on your lips.

"Because you deserve someone to be good to you," Hotch replied, his gaze steady. "And I'm here as long as you need."

The conversation paused as you both sat, the noise around you fading into a background hum.

Hotch’s offer hung in the air.

Sincere and simple.

A promise from a friend that felt like it could be the start of something more, something neither of you had expected but perhaps both needed.

You did not take much convincing to get home. Hotch watched your balance waver. Your eyes glassy. Your yawns. Your red-rimmed eyes.

The silence in the car was thick--

Only occasionally interrupted by the soft hum of the engine and the faint sound of passing traffic.

Hotch kept stealing glances at you. His concern evident in the crease of his brow and the tight set of his jaw.

You stared out the window, your reflection ghosting back at you, tinged with the glow of the streetlights.

Breaking the silence, your voice was soft but filled with a weariness that seemed too heavy for one person to bear.

"There was this guy I really liked," you began, your words slightly slurred from the drinks. "He always kept me on the back burner. I'd wait by the phone. Hoping he’d call. But he never did. I hate that I've turned into the girl I used to judge…the one who cares too much about people who don't care about her at all."

You paused, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you continued.

"I’d give up anything just to love someone who loves me back. It feels like I've taken a back seat in everyone else's life because they've all found love. And me? I’m just... I'm so alone. It’s like this loneliness follows me into every room, no matter how many people are there."

Hotch listened, his expression somber, the usual reserve slowly melting away under the weight of your heartfelt confession.

After a moment, he spoke.

His voice low and filled with an unexpected vulnerability.

"I understand what you mean," he admitted. "After my marriage ended and Haley...after she died, I was thrown into a kind of loneliness I had never known. When you spend so much of your life with someone, you don’t realize how much of yourself is intertwined with theirs until they're gone."

He paused, choosing his words carefully.

"And you’re right, no matter how full other parts of your life are, nothing can truly fill the void that’s left by a lack of romance or intimacy. It’s a different kind of emptiness, one that seems to echo louder the quieter it gets."

Your head turned slowly to look at him, surprised not only by his openness but also by the resonance of his words with your own feelings.

There was a comfort in knowing you weren’t alone in your loneliness.

That someone as composed and self-assured as Hotch could understand such deep, personal pain.

"The hardest part," Hotch continued, his eyes briefly meeting yours before returning to the road, "is learning how to fill that void in a way that’s healthy, without losing yourself to it. And I see you trying to do that, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now."

The car pulled up to your place, the engine idling as you both sat in silence for a moment, letting the weight of the conversation settle.

"Thank you, Hotch," you finally said, your voice softer, tinged with gratitude and a newfound respect. "For understanding. For being here."

Hotch nodded. A gentle smile touching his lips. "Always," he assured you. "Let me walk you to the door. Just to make sure you're okay."

At your door, you turned to face Hotch--

And without a word, you wrapped your arms around him in a grateful hug.

It was more than a simple gesture of thanks; it was a release of some of the night’s accumulated tension and loneliness.

Hotch, caught slightly off guard, heitated for only a moment before his arms came around you, returning the embrace with a protective warmth

He could smell the faint mix of your perfume, now mingled with the sharp scent of alcohol, and it stirred something in him--

A concern deeper than the usual care he held for his team.

As he held you, his hand gently patting your back in comfort.

Hotch found himself wishing he could do more.

Wishing he could step inside. Make you a cup of coffee. And talk through the night until you felt better.

But he held back, acutely aware of the boundaries that his role as your superior and his professional integrity dictated.

As you finally pulled back, looking up at him with eyes that showed a flicker of something like relief and comfort, Hotch realized that his feelings were perhaps more complicated than he had admitted to himself.

There was something magnetic about you.

Something that drew him in, far beyond the simple need to protect a team member.

It was a pull he hadn’t expected, one he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and it left him momentarily unsure of his next words.

“You’re sure you’ll be okay?” he asked, his voice low, filled with genuine concern.

“Yes, thanks to you,” you replied, managing a small smile that seemed to brighten the dim hallway. “Really, Hotch, I can’t thank you enough for tonight.”

“Just doing my part,” Hotch said, trying to sound more casual than he felt. “But if you need anything, or just want to talk, you have my number.”

You nodded, and there was a lingering look, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had deepened tonight, before you turned to open your door. “Goodnight, Hotch,” you said, stepping inside.

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching the door close gently behind you.

He stood there for a few more moments, lost in thought.

The night had revealed layers of both your vulnerabilities and strengths, and Hotch felt a renewed commitment to supporting you, not just as a leader but as someone who genuinely cared.

As he walked back to his car, the quiet of the night surrounding him, Hotch felt a mixture of worry and something akin to anticipation. It was clear now that his concern for you went beyond the professional; it was personal, and it was growing.

He hoped that would be the end of it. He wished it would.

He just wanted to see you happy.

Glowing from within like he knew you could and often did.

Hotch approached your desk, his steps deliberate, echoing softly in the nearly empty bullpen.

The rest of the team had already left for the day, leaving behind a quiet that seemed to magnify the frustration evident in your posture.

As he drew closer, he saw your face buried in your hands. Your shoulders tense.

The office was quiet. The clock ticked loud. Each second echoed. You sat, staring. Lost.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his tone laden with concern as he stopped beside your desk.

You lifted your head, your expression a mixture of bitterness and fatigue. "Guess," you said, voice tinged with a harsh laugh.

"A guy?" Hotch guessed, his brow furrowing as he watched your reaction.

"Yup," you replied bitterly. "Got a lovely message today. Apparently, I'm not pretty enough and not compatible enough for him. And oh, he couldn't possibly date someone who works for the FBI." The frustration in your voice grew with each word. "And to top it all off, I'm losing my reservation at this place that took ages to get into."

Hotch's expression shifted from concern to disbelief, then to a visible annoyance. "Where do you find these guys?" he asked, his tone sharp. Boys. He wanted to say. "I'd love to have a chance to talk to them, give them a piece of my mind."

Your eyes widened slightly, taken aback by his intensity.

Hotch's jaw was set, his eyes hard with indignation on your behalf.

After a moment, he softened slightly, gesturing to your things. "Collect your things," he instructed.

You stared at him, confusion etched across your face--

"What?"

"We’re going to that dinner reservation," Hotch stated firmly, as if it were the most natural decision in the world. "It’s important to you, and you deserve at least one night where someone can attempt to live up to what you deserve."

The sudden shift in the evening's plans left you momentarily speechless, your previous frustrations giving way to a surge of something else--

Surprise.

Perhaps tinged with relief.

You slowly began to gather your belongings, still processing his words.

"Hotch, I..." you started, unsure of how to express your gratitude or the flurry of emotions his gesture had sparked.

"No need to thank me," Hotch interrupted gently, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he saw the change in your demeanor. "Let’s just go have a good evening, okay? No expectations, no pressures. Just dinner. As friends."

The word 'friends' hung in the air, safe yet filled with unspoken possibilities.

As you followed him out of the office, your steps matched his in rhythm.

A silent acknowledgment of the shift in your relationship.

As they walked out of the BAU, Hotch's actions spoke volumes about the kind of evening he intended to provide.

He held every door open for you--

His movements graceful.

Assured.

A soft but firm hand on your back guiding you through the thresholds.

At the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, a gesture that might have seemed outdated to some, but from him, it felt respectful.

A nod to a gentler time.

A time he still lived in and was raising his son to live in.

Once seated, the conversation between you flowed effortlessly.

You spoke animatedly about the dishes, your favorites, and the memories associated with them, lighting up as you described the people woven throughout your life.

How highly you spoke of them and how important they were to you.

These memories that made you who you were.

Hotch watched you, a small, genuine smile playing on his lips, captivated by the light in your eyes and the passion in your voice.

As the evening progressed, Hotch found himself offering compliments, each more personal than might be usual for a boss.

“You have an incredible way of seeing beauty in simple things,” he remarked sincerely, watching as a blush crept up your cheeks.

It was cute. He’d never seen your cheeks turn that color pink before.

Sweet, even.

You seemed taken aback, almost shy, under the weight of his words. "I...thank you," you stuttered slightly, your smile bright but your eyes reflecting a hint of disbelief. "I-I’m not used to hearing that kind of thing."

Hotch's expression turned quizzical, his head tilting slightly. “Really? I find it hard to believe no one has ever told you that before. To me, you are so many things…”

Your eyes widened, and a vulnerable honesty shone through as you responded. "I've never been complimented like that. And from someone like you--Hotch,” You laughed, almost at yourself, “you’re... you’re attractive, smart, important. For you to see me like that, it’s... i-it’s everything. And hard to believe."

Hotch paused, the weight of your words settling between them. His brow furrowed slightly, not in frustration, but in a thoughtful reassessment of how he had come to view you--

Not just as a subordinate or a friend, but as someone deeply impressive in your own right.

Someone he cared for more than just a team member or friend.

Something so much more, he’d realized.

“You should believe it because it’s true,” he said earnestly. “And I’d tell you more often if you’d let me.”

The air around you seemed to charge with a new energy, a mixture of surprise, anticipation, and a burgeoning realization of the mutual respect and admiration that might be blossoming into something more.

The way Hotch looked at you in that moment--

With a profound seriousness tinged with warmth.

It made your heart flutter in a way that no hollow compliment from anyone else ever could.

Dinner continued under this new, uncharted atmosphere, each of you navigating this subtle shift in your dynamic, exploring the boundaries of a relationship that was, perhaps, no longer just professional.

As the night drew on, the conversation deepened, not just into personal likes and aspirations but into what made each of you the person sitting at that table.

As Hotch drove you back to the BAU parking lot after what had unexpectedly turned into one of the most memorable evenings of your both of your lives.

The night air felt charged with a new, electric energy.

He had been the perfect gentleman throughout the night, insisting on paying for dinner and ensuring every part of the evening felt speciall.

Standing beside your car under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, you turned to him, your heart full of gratitude. "Thank you, Hotch. This was...this was the best not-date, date ever," you said, the words not quite sufficient to express the depth of your feelings.

Hotch smiled, a hint of something more serious in his gaze. "It can be considered an actual date, if you want...or I could plan one that could be our actual first date, if that would be something you’d be interested in," he proposed, watching your reaction closely.

Your expression shifted to one of disbelief, a mix of joy and astonishment dancing in your eyes. "Y-You...would want to go on a real date with me? But look at you? You're handsome, sexy, smart, experienced... and I'm just me?"

Hotch shook his head, his expression softening with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "I can’t believe you don’t see what I see," he said earnestly. "You are incredible, truly. You’re beautiful, smart, and absolutely wonderful. I so lucky if you’d have me."

The words washed over you, stirring a mix of emotions so intense they nearly overwhelmed you. "This feels too good to be true, like a dream," you murmured, the vulnerability in your voice mirrored in your eyes.

Like he said the words you’d been waiting for…for so long.

Hotch stepped closer, his voice dropping to a tender murmur. "Honey, this isn’t a dream. This is real, all of it," he assured you, his call to affection so genuine it carved a warm path straight to your heart.

The air between you had thickened, the kind that could change the course of a life

You felt the intensity of his gaze, the palpable connection sparking between you, and in a moment of need to ensure this wasn't a figment of your imagination, you blurted out, "Pinch me, I must be dreaming."

Hotch chuckled softly, his eyes alight with affection and amusement. "I’ll do you one better," he said, and before you could respond, he leaned in.

His lips met yours in a kiss that sent sparks flying through every nerve in your body.

A kiss so profound and filled with emotion it felt as though everything but the two of you had melted away.

A kiss that put all other attempts from others before to shame.

As you kissed under the soft lights of the BAU parking lot, it was as if the world had come to a standstill, the only sound being your combined breaths and the faint rustle of the night wind.

It was the kind of kiss that marked the beginning of something new and beautiful.

A moment neither of you would ever forget—

The world seemed to realign itself slowly as you both pulled apart.

Breathless.

The air was still thick with the electricity of the moment, and the soft glow of the parking lot lights cast a gentle halo around you.

He gazed down at you, his eyes searching yours for a reaction, a sign of how you felt after such a profound connection.

For a few heartbeats, neither of you spoke.

You were both caught in the gravity of what had just happened.

The kiss lingering like a promise between you.

Finally, Hotch broke the silence, his voice gentle, tinged with hope.

"Was that better than a pinch?" he asked, a tentative smile playing on his lips.

You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound light and filled with the fluttering of a thousand tiny butterflies in your stomach.

"Much better," you admitted, your voice a whisper as you dared to meet his eyes again. "Hotch, I...I didn't expect this. A-Any of this."

Hotch's smile grew warmer, his hand reaching up to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. "Neither did I," he confessed. "But I'm glad it happened. You're...you're more amazing than you realize. And I want to explore this, explore us, if you're willing."

The sincerity in his voice, the earnestness of his gaze, it all made your heart swell even as a sliver of uncertainty lingered.

"Are you sure? I mean, you're you, and I'm...well, I'm just me. Are we really good for each other?"

Hotch’s expression grew serious, his thumb softly caressing your cheek. "You are not 'just' anything," he said firmly. "You are incredible, and yes, I am sure. More than I've been about anything in a long time. I admire you, respect you, and I am drawn to you. I hope to make up for all those who failed so miserably at trying to hold something as special as you.”

His words, so full of conviction and depth, washed away the last of your doubts.

"O-Okay," you whispered, a smile breaking through your initial apprehension.

As you both lingered by your car, neither of you in a rush to end the night, the conversation drifted to lighter topics--

Plans for your next outing. Favorite movies, books, the comfortable chatter marking the ease that had always existed between you, now deepened by the new, flourishing intimacy.

Finally, with a last, lingering look, Hotch said goodnight, promising to call you tomorrow.

As you watched him walk away, his figure receding into the night, you felt a warmth spreading through you, a mix of excitement and peace, the night’s surprises leaving you eager for what the future might hold.

And for Hotch, he knew he had a 1 in a million chance of a lifetime to prove to you over and over again what you deserved. He never wanted to see the light in you dim again. If anything, he wanted to be the one to help you burn brighter.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016 @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216 @sweethotchlogy

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dollyswishingwell · 25 days ago

Note

just reread your crybaby MC hcs and it made me feel sooo fluffy i need more plz plz plz i’m begging even just a part two 🥺💕

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ His crybaby P.2

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluffff, dramatic ness as always

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ He will always comfort you

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The moment it shattered, it was like the air was knocked from your lungs.

You stood there in the center of your gilded sea-view kitchen, frozen, staring down at the beautiful ivory-and-gold bowl now cracked tragically on the floor. Your favorite one from your Mariposa Rosé collection, the one Rafayel had custom-ordered from an eccentric island designer just because you said it looked “like a seashell that belonged to a princess.”

Your bottom lip quivered.

You didn’t even mean to drop it, you just got distracted scrolling through accessories for your new silk robe set, and then it slipped. One second, it was in your hands, and the next,

Snap. Crack. Shatter.

A sob bubbled up in your chest like a wounded little kitten.

You crouched beside the porcelain ruins with wide, glossy eyes, fingers trembling as you whispered,

“No… my bowl… it’s ruined… it’s all ruined… the whole set is ruined—”

And just like that, the tears welled up. Huge, glittering, spoiled tears spilling down your pretty cheeks.

By the time Rafayel appeared—drawn by your quiet, pathetic wail, he found you crouched on the floor in your frilly pink house robe, sobbing softly and pawing helplessly at the pieces like a princess mourning a fallen kingdom.

“Baby?” he blinked, dropping the novel he was reading. “What happened? Did something—did someone—hurt you—?”

You pointed dramatically at the broken bowl.

He followed your gaze. Then blinked again.

“…That’s it?” he said, baffled. “That’s what has my little pearlie crying like the world ended?”

“It’s not just a bowl,” you sniffled, crawling toward him on your hands and knees like a sulky little cat. “It was my favorite, Raffy. It’s from the seaside rose line, now the whole set is off. You can’t just have five bowls! It’s—it’s cursed now!”

He barely managed to suppress a grin, crouching to meet you and pulling you into his lap with a sigh.

“My dramatic little darling,” he cooed, rubbing your back with slow, soothing strokes. “You break a single dish and suddenly the whole home is haunted.”

You swatted his chest half-heartedly with your little fists. “Don’t tease me! I’m upset!”

“I know, I know,” he whispered, kissing the corner of your eye gently. “I can see you’re devastated. Absolutely tragic.”

You sniffled harder and collapsed into him. “Raffy… I really liked that one… It was so pretty. I was gonna make fruit salad in it for you tonight…”

“Oh, that I care about,” he teased, though his voice was already soft with guilt and fondness. “No fruit salad? That is a crime.”

You whimpered and buried your face into his neck, clinging to him with both arms like the big strong comfort plushie he always became when you were sad.

“Shhh,” he murmured into your hair, rocking you just slightly. “Don’t pout, little crybaby. I’ll call the designer in the morning, hmm? We’ll get another full set. Or two. One to use and one just to look pretty on the shelf.”

“Y-You promise?” you hiccupped.

Rafayel smiled, cradling your cheeks between his hands and kissing the tip of your nose.

“I’ll do one better,” he said smugly. “I’ll have him name the next set after you.”

Your eyes lit up through your tears. “Like… the wifey Collection?”

“Exactly,” he purred. “Inspired by the prettiest little housewife in the world. Comes in pink. Exclusive. Only one exists. No touching allowed unless you’re married to her.”

You blinked. Then flung your arms around his neck again with a squeaky, dramatic wail:

“You’re the only one who understands meee!”

He chuckled warmly, carrying you off the kitchen floor like you were fine china yourself.

“No more touching dishes, angel,” he murmured against your ear. “From now on, you’re banned from the kitchen. I’ll do all the cooking. Or we’ll just hire another chef. You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I feed you grapes.”

You sniffled. “…Okay.”

He grinned. “That’s my good little baby.”

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

It was supposed to be a peaceful evening. Zayne had just gotten home from the hospital, white coat off, sleeves rolled up, shirt half-unbuttoned as he moved around the estate’s sleek kitchen preparing tea for the two of you while you fussed with plating pastries on your beloved designer tea set.

The Porcelaine Blanche d’Étoile collection. Limited edition. You made him fly you to the private showroom in Italy to pick it out.

And then you dropped the plate.

It slipped right through your freshly moisturized fingers.

The crash echoed through the marble like a thunderclap.

Zayne’s head snapped around immediately, but you were already frozen, arms outstretched, eyes wide, looking down at the shattered porcelain with horror like you’d just witnessed a crime scene.

“Z-Zaynie,” you whispered in despair. “I broke it…”

He was already walking over, concern in his eyes, until he saw it was just a plate. Then he stopped short, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a small exhale.

“Angel. It’s just one dish—”

“No it’s not!” your voice cracked.

And then your lip trembled. Your cheeks flushed. And just like that, you were crying.

“Now the whole set’s ruined—” you hiccupped as fat tears began to trail down your cheeks. “It’s not complete anymore and I can’t look at it without seeing this stupid, ugly gap and, and the pattern won’t line up now and—I liked that one the most! It had the starburst mark right in the middle…”

Zayne blinked. Slowly.

Then sighed.

“Of course it did.”

You whimpered louder, kneeling dramatically beside the shattered remains in your silken robe like a weepy widow. “It’s not fair! That set was perfect… now it’s cursed, tainted, ruined—”

“Okay, come here.” He reached for you, scooping you up into his lap right there on the kitchen floor. “You’ll give yourself a nosebleed if you cry any harder over porcelain.”

“But Zaaaayne,” you sobbed, burying your face into his shirt. “I can’t just replace it, it’s limited edition!”

Zayne rubbed slow circles into your back, letting you sob into his chest as he cradled your tiny frame with the same steady gentleness he used in the OR. His voice was low, calm, but tinged with the smallest amused sigh, because this? This was classic you.

“Okay,” he murmured into your hair, “I’ll call the curator at the Milan showroom. You’re still on their private list, right?”

“I don’t know!” you wailed. “What if they’re sold out? What if they’re gone forever?!”

“Then I’ll find the original artist and commission a new one,” he said flatly, already mentally pulling strings. “A better one. With a reinforced edge. And your initials engraved.”

You peeked up at him through wet lashes. “Really?”

Zayne brushed your hair gently behind your ear and leaned in to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

“Of course,” he said softly. “I don’t care if you break every dish in this house. You’re still my spoiled little wife. I’ll replace them all ten times over if it keeps that pretty pout off your face.”

You sniffled. “…Ten times?”

He gave a low hum. “At least. Though if you break another one in the next 48 hours, I’m bubble-wrapping the entire kitchen.”

You let out a soft whine and pressed into his chest like a needy kitten, arms looping tightly around his waist.

“Cuddle me until I forget it happened.”

“You’re not moving until morning,” he muttered, already standing with you in his arms. “I’ll bring the pastries to bed. You can eat off my chest if you’re scared of plates now.”

You mumbled, sleepy and teary and spoiled:

“…You’re the best.”

He kissed your temple with a low exhale and whispered against your skin:

“I know, baby. I know.”

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

The cup slipped from your fingers while you were showing it off.

You had just spent the whole morning twirling around the penthouse in your soft, lace-trimmed robe, gently rearranging the display cabinet Xavier had custom-built just for your Mythic Dream tea set. It was whimsical and elegant and sparkly and rare, hand-painted in shimmering moonlight hues with little dream creatures on every piece.

You were holding your favorite one, the lavender-and-blue cup with the little winged rabbit on it, and twirling as you told Xavier exactly what dessert you were planning to match it with.

And then it was gone.

One slip.

Clink. Crack. Shatter.

You froze. The smile dropped off your face.

Your heart sank with it.

“…Bunnycup,” you whispered, staring in disbelief at the porcelain wreckage on the polished marble. “I—I dropped my Bunnycup…”

From his place lounging on the couch with his datapad, Xavier looked up slowly, head tilted.

“…You dropped what?”

“My favorite one,” you said breathlessly, your voice wobbling. “It’s gone. It’s dead. She’s gone.”

“…Oh,” he said, blinking slowly.

You turned away from him abruptly, crouched in front of the shattered piece like a mourning widow. Your eyes brimmed with tears. You looked at it like you were at a funeral.

“I dropped her. She was the prettiest one. And now she’s dead and the whole cabinet is cursed and—” you sniffled, “I was gonna make violet cake for her…”

You let out the softest broken sob.

Xavier stared.

Then carefully set his datapad down.

“…Wait, are you crying?”

You didn’t answer. Your sniffles got louder.

“Starlight?”

You wailed louder and flopped down fully onto the rug beside the wreckage, tearfully hiding your face in your sleeves.

He was beside you in seconds, sliding down to his knees with furrowed brows and frantic hands.

“Did it cut you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you hiccupped. “I’m emotional! That was my favorite cup and now she’s gone! Her little bunny face is in shards—I named her!”

Xavier stared at the broken porcelain. Then at you.

“…You named it?”

“Her name was Cloudia!” you cried.

He blinked again. Then let out a helpless little breath and pulled you fully into his lap, tucking your head under his chin.

“Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was a funeral.”

“It is!”

“I’ll make arrangements.”

You sniffled.

He gently rocked you back and forth, eyes closing as he pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head.

“I’ll buy another,” he murmured. “A whole new set. No. Ten sets. All the bunnies. And wings. I’ll have someone make a sculpture of her. I’ll frame the shards. I’ll turn it into a shrine in the hallway.”

“R-Really?” you whimpered.

Xavier looked deadly serious. “I’ll build a moonlit garden in her honor.”

You hiccupped, peeking up at him through damp lashes.

“…I love you so much,” you whispered.

He cradled your cheeks in his hands, brushing away a tear with his thumb and kissing it.

“You are the most beautiful, sensitive, dramatic little thing I’ve ever loved,” he whispered back. “And I will mourn Bunnycup with you forever.”

You flopped into his chest again.

“Carry me to bed and feed me chocolate.”

He exhaled softly, lifting you with ease. “Consider it done, starlight.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

It happened during your ‘princess-core living room redecoration’ phase.

You’d decided one of the shelves needed to be “balanced” with something tall and whimsical, so Sylus (without question) had acquired an absolutely obnoxious but stunning vase: a slender rose-gold and opal heirloom piece from a royal estate, one of a kind, rumored to be enchanted. It had vines carved into the neck, subtle gold leafing, and shimmered like it had moonlight trapped in the glass.

You loved that vase.

And you shattered it trying to scoot the couch two inches to the left.

You didn’t even realize it was tipping over until it was already mid-air. Time slowed. You gasped, reaching for it like a damsel in a slow-motion tragedy,

CRASH.

You stood there frozen, socked feet on velvet rugs, clutching a throw pillow and staring at the sparkling ruin.

The shock hit first.

Then the guilt.

Then came the tears.

“Noooo…” you whispered, trembling as you dropped to your knees. “No, no, no… Sylus is gonna kill me, that was one of a kind!!”

Cue your dramatics. Full sobs. Teary gasps. Hiccupping into your hands as you wailed over the broken vase like it had been your childhood pet.

“I ruined it! It was so beautiful! It’s all my fault, now it’s goooone—!”

By the time Sylus entered the room, he found you on your knees, surrounded by glittering glass, hair slightly messy, cheeks wet, looking like a tragic little heiress from some tear-soaked opera scene.

He blinked.

Paused.

Then said, flatly:

“…You’re crying over the vase?”

You wailed harder.

Sylus sighed, unamused. “Darling. It’s a vase.”

“It was the prettiest one in the whole world!” you sobbed. “You said it was enchanted! I was gonna name it after us, put roses in it, now it’s gone forever and the whole room is unbalanced!!”

“Unbalanced,” he repeated, deadpan.

“I’m emotionally devastated,” you hiccupped.

A beat of silence.

And then his composure cracked.

He walked over in slow, deliberate steps, crouched in front of you, and tilted your chin up with his gloved fingers.

“Poor little thing,” he murmured, eyes glinting. “Is this how the world ends? Because your vase broke?”

You pouted at him with wet lashes and cried louder.

He chuckled darkly under his breath, kissed your pouty lips, then scooped you right off the floor like you were a little doll.

“You are the most dramatic creature I’ve ever loved,” he whispered, nuzzling your tear-streaked cheek. “You realize I could buy the entire estate that vase came from, yes?”

“But that vase is goooone—!”

“Then I’ll steal it back from the past,” he said, amused. “Or bribe the artist’s descendant to make you ten better ones. We’ll fill every corner of this house with glittering, gaudy glass. You’ll drown in roses and sparkle, my little crier.”

You sniffled against his chest.

He settled onto the settee with you curled in his lap, stroking your hair with idle fingers.

“Next time, call someone to move furniture,” he muttered, though there was no real bite in it. “You’re not allowed to cry unless you’re breaking someone else’s things. Understood?”

You looked up at him miserably. “…You’re not mad?”

He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“No,” he said. “But only because watching you weep like some grief-stricken little princess might be the most entertaining thing I’ve seen all week.”

You whined, burying your face deeper into his expensive silk shirt.

“I want five vases. All pink.”

“Ten. And I’ll commission a painting of the broken one to hang above the fireplace. ‘The Fall of Opal,’ starring my very fragile little wife.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

You were just trying to make him breakfast.

It was early. The Skyhaven penthouse was quiet, sunlight spilling across polished floors, and you, still in one of Caleb’s old black shirts with your bare legs peeking out, had just finished plating his favorite fruit on your favorite designer ceramic bowl. You were so proud. You were humming.

And then you bumped your elbow on the corner.

Crash.

The sound of shattering ceramic echoed like a gunshot.

You froze.

The bowl, the gorgeous, shimmering ceramic one from the exclusive Skyhaven artisan boutique, the one with tiny amethyst marbling, lay in pieces on the floor.

“No… no no no,” you gasped, hand flying to your mouth. “Not that one—please not that one…”

You sank slowly to your knees, devastated. The entire set had been your pride, your favorite for special mornings. And now the one with the prettiest veining was gone.

Your lip wobbled.

The tears were instant.

Caleb appeared in the doorway a few moments later, still in black sleep pants, chest bare, hair slightly tousled from bed, rubbing his eyes. “I heard something break.”

You whipped around with watery eyes, clutching your knees like a little girl.

“I broke it…”

He blinked.

“…You’re crying?”

You sniffled. “It was the prettiest bowl in the set. I was just trying to make you breakfast and now, now it’s ruined, and the rest will never look the same and I loved that bowl!”

Caleb’s entire expression changed in an instant.

The sleepy, casual look was gone.

He crossed the room fast, crouching in front of you and cupping your face.

“Did you cut yourself?”

“N-No…”

“Are you sure?” He grabbed your hands, inspecting them closely. “You’re trembling. You’re in shock. Breathe.”

You hiccupped. “I’m not in shock, I’m just, really really sad!! It was my favorite one, and now it’s shattered and ugly and the set is ruined!”

Caleb pulled you straight into his chest.

“That doesn’t matter,” he muttered, pressing a hand to the back of your head. “None of that matters. You’re okay. You’re okay. Don’t cry over something like that.”

“But I liked it,” you mumbled into his skin.

“Then I’ll buy you ten more.”

“It was limited edition.”

“I’ll commission a new set,” he said firmly. “Exactly the same. Better. Reinforced. I’ll put a standing order in with the artisan. You’ll never have to lift a hand again. You hear me, pips?”

You nodded weakly, sniffling.

He scooped you off the floor effortlessly, carried you to the couch, and wrapped you in one of the soft fleece blankets he always kept near in case you got cold. Then he sat beside you and gently tucked you into his lap like you were made of glass.

“I don’t ever want to see you cry over something like this again,” he murmured. “Things can be replaced. You can’t.”

You whimpered.

He wiped your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re not allowed to break down unless it’s me who breaks something,” he added, softer this time. “Understand?”

You nodded again, clinging to him like he was your whole planet.

“You’re not mad?”

He looked down at you, at your teary lashes, your pouty little lips, and shook his head once.

“No,” he whispered. “But I am upset.”

“Why…?”

“Because you thought I’d care more about a bowl than my wife’s tears.”

You sniffled, leaning up to kiss the side of his throat in apology

He stroked your hair slowly.

“I’ll clean it up. You stay here and cry it out in my lap. Let me take care of everything.”

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lovelywyenn · 9 months ago

Text

★☆«“First Time”»☆★

★Mitsuri Kanroji x Obanai Iguro x Virgin fem!Reader★

Synopsis★Obanai and Mitsuri are absolutely smitten with you. Of course they’d love to take your relationship to the next level and make you theirs★

Includes★Threesomses, Cunnilingus, fingering, sloppy sex, missionary, vaginal penetration, deep throating, tip sucking, neck kissing★

★W.C★4.6K

Being a Hashira took a lot. Brains, strength, determination. All traits that a chosen hashira must possess to have a hope of surviving the japanese nights.

You had all of these things. A smart and capable young woman you were, you rose the ranks fast. It left everyone shocked. It was rare for a new Hashira to be appointed. Especially one as sweet and shy as you. You were strong, no doubt. The evidence was all in your accomplishments. Starting at the bottom and working your way to the top in only two years, inventing your breathing style developed from water breathing on the way.

All your hard work had paid off, which is what landed you where you were. Standing with people you have looked up to for years as not only the first ice hashira but a colleague of theirs.

The hashira were friendly to you, and even if they weren’t the nicest they didn’t give you too hard of a time. But for the most part, everyone was kind to you. Especially two in particular.

You had known that Mitsuri was a bubbly person before you had met her so it wasn't a surprise to you when she clung to your side the first time you officially met. Pressing close to you and showering you with compliments.

The love Hashira's boyfriend was the same way with you. Obanai was equally if not more clingy with you as Mitsuri was. His behavior surprised everyone, especially you. You had heard so many rumors about how it wasn’t typical of him to show kindness to people, especially new people. But you welcomed the kindness from both of them. Enjoyed the way they showered you with gifts and money for seemingly no reason at all. And loved how sweet they were.

It took you a while before you realized why they were so friendly with you, they wanted a third. They confessed to you one night when they took you out to a nice dinner and got you dressed up all pretty for them. They had drowned you in accessories, gold earrings, floral headpieces. You would have to be crazy to say no. So that night you went home with a kiss on the cheek from each hashira, and a handful of gift boxes that were sure to never stop.

Life with them was a dream, sure it was scary sometimes. There were times all of you were afraid. When you would go out to slay demons there was always a fear one of you wouldn’t come back.

But the good times outweigh the bad. The times they would smile at you when you made dinner when they got home late, enjoying meals and deep conversations. The times the three of you would train together, pushing each other to your limits and laughing about it afterwards.

And times much like this, when they had you pressed against the futon, both of their soft, warm hands gripping all over you. Obanai had his lips pressed against yours in a sloppy kiss. The feeling of his tongue slipping into a tangle with your tongue makes your legs quiver. Your girlfriend had her hands glued to your tit, finger flicking and teasing at your nipples, pebbled from the constant stimulation. She sucked pretty purple marks along your neck that were sure to get worse in the morning.

While Mitsuri’s hands were busy, Obanais free hands started groping over you, he slid down to play with the band of your underwear hidden below your silk robe.

You shivered at the touch, your hand quickly came to grab at Obanai’s when he attempted to slip under the fabric clad against your cunt. “W-wait,” you said breathlessly.

Obanai’s hand immediately halted. This was usual when the three of you got like this. You would always stop it when it got this far. They never pressured you into anything, they were just curious as to why this was the point you stopped at. You had already assured him you wanted to have sex with them, they just never understood what the hold-up was.

Your boyfriend pressed an apology kiss to your lips, “Sorry doll, I got carried away. ” he said, hand sliding back up your body to gently stroke across your abdomen, gaze sliding down to watch the way your muscles fluttered at the light touch.

"It's okay, I-I just”, Mitsuri sat up at your own words, her full tits practically spilling out of her robe as she took the chance to look at you. “Just what sweetheart? Tell us.” she spoke, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

It feels impossible to keep ahold of her gaze as your cheeks flush, eyes glancing away from hers. Obanai tuts at this, “Don’t be shy doll, you can tell us anything and everything.” he says.

You sigh as silence washes over the three of you. Your lovers don’t rush you to speak, they wait patiently until you’re ready to continue. “...I’ve never done this before.” you said, feeling your heart thump a little faster in your chest.

“Done what?” Mitsuri questions, “Had sex?” She asks.

You silently nod, embarrassed by the truth. To your horror, Mitsuri and Obanai give each other a look before chuckling. “Please don’t laugh at me,” you said. As a frown took shape. The two immediately stopped laughing, each placing a comforting hand on your body.

“Sweetheart we would never laugh at you, it was just funny that you were embarrassed. Did you think you being a virgin would scare us off?” Mitsuri asks after assuring you.

The sigh you let out was one of relief at your girlfriend's reassurance, “Yes, I-I thought it would make you all see me as if I was immature, when in reality. There just…. Isn’t enough time for sex when you’re constantly working to get to hashira status.” you say.

“That’s perfectly fine.” Mitsuri assures, Obanai then chimes in, “After all, we have plenty of time right now.”

“We can make good use of it.”

“You guys want to have sex?” you ask, eyes wide as you feel a tingling sensation between your legs, the same feeling you always get when they kiss and touch all over you.

You close your eyes as Mitsuri leans down and presses kisses on your lips, sloppily trailing kisses down your neck, “Just say the word Y/n, say the word and we’ll make you feel so good.” she muttered between kisses.

Obanai grabs your chin and your eyes shoot open as he makes you look at him. “C’mon doll, let us give it to you, make that little cunt feel good, what do you say, hmm?”

You nod and are immediately overwhelmed with the sensations of their hands all over you again. Mitsuri’s tongue suckled around your tits, while your boyfriend was kissing you so rough you could barely keep up. His strong hands somehow trail gently down your body, toying with your panties again before running a finger along your covered slit. Your body jumps and your boyfriend presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Relax doll.” he says, backing off from the kiss as he continues his feather-light touches, it felt like so much more to you. Gentle strokes turned into defined circles around your sensitive clit. Still a gentle feeling, but overwhelming at the same time.

“Oooh, why d-does it feel like that” you moan, hips slowly grinding up into the pleasure you were receiving.

“Like what Mama? Is it too much?” Mitsuri asked, cupping your cheek so you would look at her.

You nod at her question, “It’s a lot but I-I like it. Feels good, really fuckin good. ” You moan surprising your lovers, it was rare for you to curse. “Am I supposed to feel. . wet down there?” you ask.

Mitsuri nods, “It’s natural baby, which means Obanai’s making you feel just right”

“Can you take my panties off? They feel sticky now.” you ask sheepishly. Obanai pulls his hands up as Mitsuri slides the fabric down your legs and throws them across the room. Your girlfriend crawls off your body and sits on her knees right in front of you.

She gasps and you get a little shy, closing your legs to cover yourself. Mitsuri shakes her head, pushing them open. “Don’t hide such a pretty thing from me sweetheart. Obanai look how pretty our baby’s pussy is.” she said, pulling Obanai to stare. You blush as they stare at you, hands spreading your cunt to get a pretty look at you.

“She’s so pretty, wet too.” Obanai stares in awe. You watch as your lover spreads your legs wider, leaning in closer. Mitsuri can’t help but lightly drag her tongue through your folds and you whimper, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. Obanai’s tongue soon follows, stroking through your slit to get a taste of the wetness leaking from your sopping cunt.

Your moans grow louder and louder as they both start to make out with your pussy, taking turns sucking on your clit and fucking their tongues into you. It made your toes curl and your cunt clench, you hadn’t felt like this ever before.

But nothing made you wetter than seeing the two of them end up kissing each other. Tongues tangling together as they made out with each other right in front of your cunt. They sat up, giving you the delicious view of the tent in Obanai’s pants and the wet spot staining Mitsuri’s panties. They were so incredibly sexy.

An experimental hand trailed down your body as you gently rubbed where Obanai had touched you earlier. You shivered as you circled the spot your boyfriend had earlier, eyes watching as Mitsuri’s hands reached into Obanai’s pants, pulling his fat cock out and stroking it with expertise you were sure to never have.

You fastened your pace as she jerked him off, loving the sight of precum leaking out the tip and down her pretty hands. When they glanced back at you, seeing their pretty girl playing with her pussy, they drew their attention back to you.

Mitsuri’s lips press one last kiss To obanai’s before she leans down and grabs the hand you’d been touching yourself with, her other arm never stopping her tugs on Obanai’s cock. She slowly sucked your digits soaked with your juices in her mouth, making your clit twitch from how arousing the situation was.

She let your fingers go with a lewd pop, “God you taste good sweetheart.” she sighed before moving back to Obanai to press a kiss to his tip. “Why don’t you let our girl take care of this for you, teach her a thing or two.” Mitsuri suggests. “I’ll focus on making her feel good”.

Obanai nods, enjoying Mitsuri’s idea. He pressed occasional kisses on your stomach, moving up your body until he was straddling your neck. He gently slapped his cock against your cheek and you moaned at the heavy weight of it.

“Open up pretty girl.” he says and you eye him wearily. But when his soft hands grasp your chin you open up. Obanai slips the tip of his cock in your mouth and you try to mimic what you think Mitisuri would do. Sucking on it. You suppose your choice was right as your boyfriend threw his head back with a groan.

As you suckle on your boyfriend's swollen tip. Your girlfriend has settled between her legs. Nimble fingers toying with your slit. Just dragging them through, playing with you like she would a toy.

You moan around Obanai's cock, the sound sending a fat glob of pre cum rolling down your throat. He grabs the back of your head, hands pushing himself farther down on it. You swore you were choking, it was just so thick.

Your girlfriend marveled at your pretty little cunt, juices just oozing out of you. Mitsuri finally leans forward and flicks her tongue on your clit. The feeling makes your legs twitch, and your thighs would be sure to close if it wasn’t for the love Hashira’s strong hands spreading you apart perfectly.

Mitsuri was nastily skilled with her tongue. Quick and nimble movements were sure to be the death of you. She was practically making out with your slit, her tongue sliding into every crevice of your pussy. You could barely keep up, the only thing grounding you from the pleasure was Obanai’s meaty thighs, which you had a death grip on.

Your long nails left red streaks along the skin as his cock stuffed your mouth full. Tiny tears creased the corner of your eyes as you tried your best to take him down your throat. Gagging as he moved you through the motions.

Back and forth back and forth, back and forth.

Until your chin was a slobbery mess. But you weren't the only one. Mitsuri's face was soaked, spit and slick covering her face as she ate you out. Her nose nudged your clothes as she forced her tongue as deep into you as she could manage. And it was toe-curlingly good.

Obanai peered down at you, smiling at the fucked outlook in your eyes. He tapped your cheek, “You still with me baby?”

You nod your head, eyes focusing on the pretty sight above you. He was just as handsome as always. Cheeks flushed, panting as his hips thrust down your throat.

If he didn't know you were too sweet to ever not be honest, he would call you a filthy liar. You were a natural. Sucking his dick deep, tongue licking underneath the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

It was taking everything in him not to blow his load right now.

His head turned to look at Mitsuri, calling to her over his shoulder, “Think she's ready for me?” He asks.

“Hmm,” Mitsuri ponders, pulling away from your needy clit. You were pretty soaked, but she had barely prepped your hole yet.

A slim finger slides into you with ease, and when it curls your whole slit twitches.

“Oooh, she's a tight little thing” Mitsuri chuckles as she starts to thrust her finger in you, keeping its curve. Your mouth went slack around your boyfriend's cock at the feeling. It had your mind going blank.

Every time your girlfriend's finger pulled out of you, the pad of her finger dragged deliciously over a spot inside you that drove you crazy.

Obanai couldn't hold himself back anymore when Mitsuri's tongue joined in the mix. The muscle mashing against your clit, the nasty noises running straight from his ears down to his cock.

He grabbed your hair without thinking, forcing you all the way down on his shaft as he came.

You could barely keep up with what was happening, just. Swallowing the thick liquid he gave you no choice but to taste.

When he pulled out of your mouth, the heavy weight of his cock pressing into your cheek you could finally moan freely.

And fuck you were loud. But your noise was warranted. After all, Mitsuri slid another finger deep into your pretty pussy.

She must've wanted to kill you, that's the only reason you could find to explain the mean way her lips were latched on your clit. It was so harsh, the Inescap pleasure driving you the same.

The hands-on Obanai’s thighs gripped onto him for dear life as you squeezed your eyes tight.

He had seen it countless times when he had gone down on Mitsuri.

“Open your eyes doll, let me see how pretty you look when you cum.” he says.

It was all just so much. You wail loudly as you feel pleasure building up in your gut. Different than what to have been feeling so far. It felt like you were tumbling down a hill, pleasure building up and up and up until… you finally came.

Your whole body froze up and you swore your vision went pure white. Your back arches up into Mitsuri's Mouth until the pleasure hits you.

The thick of your thighs closed around Mitsuri's face, legs shaking terribly as your toes curled in. But your girlfriend, ever stubborn, didn't let you stop her from prolonging your orgasm. Her licks were gentle, just. Prodding at your clit. She pulled her fingers from your country, focusing on working through it with your tongue.

Obanai had his eyes glued to yours the entire time, a dark look in his eyes.

It felt like forever had passed before Obanai crawled off of you, gently pushing at Mitsuri's head, doing what your tired arms failed to do. Reluctantly, the girl pulled away, a pout on her shiny lips that was quickly kissed away by l.

Just like that, the two were all over each other again, kissing, tongues down each other throats. Obanai loved kissing his girl, but there was something about the taste of her mouth that was driving him crazy.

Your eyes trailed down their bodies, Obanai, already naked and hard again, his cock twitching every which way, desperate for a hole to find refuge in.

Mitsuri’s hands desperately took hold of her robe, pulling the fabric off. You moaned as her soft body was exposed.

Heading that, she pulls away from Obanai, leaving him chasing her lips. She crawls next to you and you think you're gonna die. She's so sexy, an absolute wonder of a woman. Thick hips, huge tits with a cute face. Sometimes you wonder what you did to get so lucky.

You sit up weakly on your elbows, smiling up at her. Obanai’s hands reach for his cock as he watches Mitsuri grab your cheek and kiss you. Her tongue immediately takes control of yours. You moan into the kiss, the feeling of love Hashira’s tits pressed against your side sending your brain into overdrive.

You almost don't register Obanai moving between your legs until you feel his dick prodding at your clit. You pull away from Mitsuri's kiss with a moan. It felt different than before like every little touch to your clit was overwhelming.

Obanai smiled, tapping his too to your clit a few times just to hear you whine. “You think you can take me baby?” he asks you. He sees the wide look in your eyes and he knows you're nervous. After all, you could barely fit two of Mitsur's fingers. And now you were moving on to seven girthy inches of cock. Your boyfriend was not a small man.

He places a comforting hand on your stomach, “you don't have to if you don't want to baby” he reminds you.

You nod your head, you know but, “I want to” you express, “but how is it supposed to fit… inside”*you say.

Mitsuri pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder, “he's gonna go slow mama, give you time for that pretty pussy to adjust, okay?” She tells you and you cling to the calmness the words bring you.

“W-Will it hurt?” You ask softly and Obanai can't help but lean forward and press a kiss on your pretty lips.

“Only a baby,” he says honestly, then it'll feel good, just as good as earlier, he tells you. And you nos, nervously biting at your bottom lip.

“O-okay, m'ready”* you say and Obanai crawls back, positioning your legs wide for him.

Mitsuri’s soft hands come to caress your tits, rolling your nipple around to distract you. Her lips pressed kisses to your throat, as you moaned.

The distraction worked until you didn't, when you felt Obanai position himself at your entrance, pushing his cock in as slow as he could.

You let out a pained wince as his head slipped in, letting out an uncomfortable sigh. Mitsuri's quick to shush you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “It's okay baby girl.” she tells you.

Obanai watches your face as he pushes farther in. His heart aches at every pained whimper, grateful that Mitsuri was comforting you

“It's almost in Mama, good job,” she tells you, and you moan when you feel Obanai's pelvis flush against you. It was a weird feeling. Almost uncomfortable but not as bad as it was at first.

You only grow louder when Obanai leans forward to kiss your lips, his cock shuffling inside you. “I knew you could take it, proud of you baby.” he tells you.

The pain is bad at first when he pulls out of you and pushes back in. It hurts no matter how gentle he tries to be. But the pain turns into stinging. That stinging starts to make your back arch. And soon he's thrusting into you with no resistance. His thrusts feel as good as Mitsuri's fingers curling inside you.

It was such a new feeling. Having something so thick and big inside you. It was weird, but it felt good, really good.

“F-fuck” you curse under your breath, lidded eyes staring at the man stuffing you with his cock. You were a mess, body sweaty, hair disheveled.

Not that Obanai was any better. He didn't know someone could be this tight. You had to be doing this on purpose, pussy trying to milk him for all he's worth. And it was taking an embarrassing amount of effort not to let go right now.

Mitsuri was smiling, watching you make Obanai's dick disappear. It was such a pretty sight, hearing the sounds your pussy made.

The pleasure was intense and you turned to Mitsuri, grasping her arm to ground yourself.

“How's it feel mama, you like it?”Mitsuri asks you, a gentle hand caressing your torso.

You nod your head, “I-I like it. ” you tell her, biting your lip and Mitsuri smiles as she leans in to kiss your pretty lips. She always takes your breath away when she kisses you. Conveying everything she feels for you with a battle of your tongues.

Obanai draped one of your legs over his shoulder and you were keen as his cock seemed to plow deeper into you.

Mitsuri pulls away with a smile, watching you try and take your boyfriend's cock, “it's deep, isn't it baby?”

You nod your head, looking over at her with the most adorable look on your face. Eyes laced with need and hazed with pleasure. “I-its so deep” you stutter out.

Obanai smirks at that and Mitsuri catches it, rolling her eyes at him with a giggle.

Her hands trail down your stomach, pressing down right over where Obanai was inside you,” yeah, you feel him right here mama?” She asks and you can barely respond. The pressure on your stomach makes your legs quake a little.

Obanai's hips only fasten their pace and you swear every time his fat tip slams against that perfect spot inside you you're gonna die.

Your boyfriend above you is lost in pleasure, low groans of your name tumbling from his lips as he pounds your pussy. Pressing kisses up your ankle, sucking one of your toes into his mouth.

The feeling made you giggle, but ain't nothing funny about Mitsuri's sneaky hand trailing down your stiffened clit.

You let out a whimper, reaching to grab Mitsuri's wrist. But you would never be stronger than her, not in a million years. You swore the laughter she let out was evil as she swirled mean circles around your clit.

But all Obanai saw in front of him was a pair of angels. It was such a gorgeous sight, his two girls in front of him. Blissed out together. The body's rocking with the weight of each of his thrusts.

The hand that wasn't busy spreading your legs apart reaches to spread Mitsuri's. The girl let out a soft gasp, her hand stuttering on your clit as Obanai thumbed hers.

Her moans were loud as her boyfriend played with practiced expertise. Fingers rubbing side to side on her slit before he presses two fingers deep into her. They slipped right in, the love hashira's pussy a soaked mess.

“Shh” he shushes both of you and you both do. Biting your lips to restrain the pillowy moans leaving your lips.

Now with the two of you quiet, you could hear the filthy sounds of your pussy, squelching and soaked. Making the prettiest noises. Mitsuri's fingers seem to regain power as she goes back to swirling your clit between her fingers. She playfully bites at your ear, “you sound so pretty mama” she slurs in your ear.

You turn and press a kiss to her lips, your hand moving to play with her clit. Mitsuri's tongue goes slack as pleasure shivers through her.

The faster the two of your hands got on each other the closer the two of you got. And it wasn't long before you were squirming, feeling something different for the first time Mitsuri made you cum.

You cling onto her with one arm, the other gripping Obanai’s flexed arm. “I-I think I'm gonna cum!”*you gasp out.

Obanai nods, “go on baby, you can do it,” he says.

“M'close to baby, s-so close” Mitsuri moans. As if reading each other's minds you both speed up your hands, rubbing mean circles against each other's clits.

“Ooooh, i-i'm cumming!” you whine and you barely have time to process what's happening before pleasure hits you from the ends of your ears to the tips of your toes

Mitsuri wasn't far behind you, her creamy pussy making a mess on Obanai's hand. He curled his fingers within her, smiling as she screamed, thighs squeezing around his hand.

His thrusts into you never ceased, it felt like you were floating.

You were still in a daze but Mitsuri came down from her high before you. Getting the honor of seeing Obanai Iguro break.

He was barely holding back, just trying to fuck you through it so he could cum. And at this point, he didn't care about where. In or out. But your pussy was gripping onto him for dear life. He wasn't gonna last any longer.

“In or out doll?” Obanai gasps.

But you could barely answer, too fucked out to think. The overstimulation was so much to take, and you couldn't squirm, not with the death grip your boyfriend had on your leg. Humping into you as he pants, waiting for your answer.

A swift slap to your clit has your eyes wide and open in no time and the fast circles that have you moaning out a jumbled-up string of pleas. For what exactly? You weren't sure.

“Did you hear him mama?”Mitsuri asks and you shake your head. “He asks if you want him to cum in or out of you?”

The question brings heat to your cheeks and right down to your clit. It was getting hard to focus. The constant stimulation makes another orgasm build up in you. But this one felt like it might break you.

“W-which one do you like? ” you ask Mitsuri.

And she smiles, “I like it when he cums inside me.”

“T-then that, inside.” you say, eyes rolling back in your head as her fingers speed up on your clit.

Mitsuri turns to Obanai, giggling at his blushed red face. “you heard her, baby, go on fuck it deep in her.“

Obanai groans loudly as he cums, and you gasp as you feel his loud shoot into you. You cum with him, the white load painting your walls sending you over the edge.

It takes a long time for you to come to and by then, Obanai had pulled his stick cock out of you, and Mitsuri was stroking your forehead with her clean hand.

They each press a kiss to your cheek, marveling at how fast you had fallen asleep. Chest rising and falling peacefully.

“She can't go to sleep, we have to clean her up. ” Mitsuri says softly.

But Obanai shakes his head leaning to press another kiss to your forehead, “I'll run her a bath in thirty.” he says.

“Let our pretty girl rest”

First one down, 14 more to go!!!!!!!~ Kinktober Masterlist|2024»☆★

Taglist: @nousija, @miiiturix, @kittylovecatssuff,

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lac3void · 1 month ago

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thinking about jerking off your man with his watch on your wrist.

you were going through his mini collection of watches and a particular one caught your eye. you could tell it was expensive, a high end brand that you probably couldn’t recall.

you felt him hover over you, chuckling lowly as he saw you going through his collection. “ah, i haven’t worn that one in so long”. he started to tell you the backstory of why he bought it, making you giggle fondly.

you look up at him and ask him if you could try it on. he took the watch from your hands and pulled your wrist out, putting it on you. you admire the heavy metal on your wrist, imitating him as he chuckles lowly.

"it suits you perfectly," he murmured, his eyes fixed on your face. his hand remained wrapped around your wrist, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin on the underside. the action made you feel strangely vulnerable.

one thing led to another and here he was, his head low on your shoulder as you jerked him off with watch on your wrist. he breath was hot against your skin as he let out husky moans.

with each stroke, his body quivered and trembled against you. his husky moans turning into pants and whines, you could tell he was close. you praise him and tell him how good he is, kissing the top of his head.

with a low moan, he came all over your hand and wrist. you chuckle as you press soft kisses on any part of his face you could reach. “you came all over your watch”, you say in a disappointed tone. he let out a breathy chuckle, pressing a kiss to your jaw as he basked in the afterglow. “don’t worry too much, hm?”, he said in a low tone he moved you both over to the bathroom to clean up.

as the weeks passed by, you noticed the watch you tried on become an everyday accessory of his.

uhh…this is very unprovoked because i lowkey tried on a rolex and immediately thought about several characters who are loaded (😼) so its been floating around my head for the past two days.

#jjk #jjk smut #smut #nanami jjk #gojo satoru #geto suguru #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads smut #light yagami #aizawa #bleach #death note #levi ackerman #armin arlert #erwin smith #aot #aot smut #bleach smut

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adoreddestiny · 1 year ago

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ೃ⁀➷ TONGUE PIERCINGS 🔞 — rafayel, xavier, zayne x fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ request: can you write a snippet of l&ds boys having tongue piercings 😛🤭🔞? Please and thanks also I love all your snippets!

it’s pleasing to the merman when he licks your lips with a scintillating gaze. rafayel’s eyes sharpening in the light of the moon as he presses his lips against yours. the silver piercing on his tongue glides against the pink muscle in your mouth. a rough grunt elicits from his mouth and you can feel your knees grow weak.

your back is pressed against the wall, trapped by muscular arms. he chooses when you breathe again as you find yourself drowning in the heat from his mouth. his knee slots nicely in between your legs giving your clothed pussy something to grind against.

he pulls away finally. a lewd string of saliva attaching your lips for a mere second before he moves to pin you further against the wall. his piercing grazing against the sweet spot on your neck. you whine out something about being late but he only responds by sucking a hickey on your collarbone. “don’t wanna go,” he mumbles out, “just wanna fuck you.”

it’s a little surprising to learn that such a stoic and stern doctor like zayne could possibly have such an accessory. but he brushes the college dare off with such elegance that it entirely counterposes the way he’s got you reeling. your shirt is pulled up and dangling by your teeth, allowing him access to your pretty tits.

he pulls you closer to the edge of the desk. strong hands hold down your waist and inner thigh. he chuckles maliciously as the cold steel makes contact with your nipple. a shiver crawls through your spine and your body trembles in his grasp. his tongue expertly navigates your pleasure, grazing over the sensitive skin.

his hand dips down further to press against the seat of your panties. through the sheer fabric, he lazily rolls your clit. a gasp escapes you causing you to release the end of your shirt. it tumbles down, covering you back up. zayne clucks his tongue, peering up at you with keen eyes, pulling your shirt back up and slipping it back in between your teeth. “don’t drop it again,” he whispers, “you promised to stay quiet tonight.”

you don’t even have time to catch your breath when xavier’s tongue meets your melting pussy again. the little piercing ball on his tongue glides alluringly over your clit. an obscene amount of cum and saliva drip down your ass. inquiring about such a curious little piece of metal had been your downfall the moment the light in his eyes shifted.

his hands pin your legs against your chest allowing him perfect access to your constricting hole. another swipe over your clit with that godforsaken piercing has you seeing stars. a filthy squelch incurs when he pushes a little deeper. your thighs quiver but he steadies you once more with a rough grip. nothing is left in the darkening room save for desperation and pornographic pants.

your hands search helplessly for something to root you back to reality but you find your fantasies entangled in the way he pulls away. his mouth is slick with your sweetness but the hunger in his eyes is ever-present. you have to catch your breath, clit throbbing achingly so when he grinds a heavy cock against you. “please let me put it in,” he pants, “i can’t take it anymore.”

#ੈ♡˳ aurora's writing #love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x y/n #rafayel x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace x reader

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aweina · 2 years ago

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HI CAN I REQUEST MIKE SCHMIDT X FEM READER?? MAYBE SOME FLUFF I JUST- UGH I NEED HIM. anyways. PLEASE? THANKS! REMEMBER TO HYDRATE!

ᥫ᭡. winter heart , mike schmidt ( fluff )

you and me, hugging ? if you want …

tags fem + gn reader. pining. friends to ( redacted ). mike tries to be a meanie but he can’t. special abby cameo.

“cold?”

mike quirks a brow at your shivering form, the lack of warm layers and no sign of any other winter accessory made him visibly cringe.

“o-obviously.” your teeth clattered with heavy pronunciation, clinging to yourself for some ounce of warmth. “t-the forecast are liars, i’ll never trust them a-again.”

he huffs a laugh at your retort, his breath condensing into the winter air — swirling aimlessly into the filtered blue atmosphere. mike was extremely amused, he could tell you that. during the coldest seasons, you decided to only wear a sleeved shirt constructed with the thinnest fabric he’s ever seen.

you play dumb games, you win stupid prizes. he believes wholeheartedly.

at the same time, he grew concerned. your reddened nose sniffled in the cold air, shakily clinging onto your shirt like it could get any warmer. your brows were furrowed in discomfort, the moisture of your lips stolen by the crisp breeze. even in this condition, you stayed with him to watch abby — who was bustling in the frozen playground with her new friends.

instinctively, mike tugs down the zipper of his oversized fleece hoodie — the bulky layers he wore combating the bitter cold. he turns to your shivering form, suddenly feeling shy about his decision, but seeing you in such a vulnerable state for his own sake made him feel guilty. mike bites back a self-encouraging sigh, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of the fluttering feeling inside his core. with his gloved hands snug in his pockets, he widens his arms to open his furry jacket — coughing dumbly to catch your attention.

you turned to him and tilted your head in confusion, darting your eyes towards his flushed face to the baggy graphic t-shirt and the oversized jacket that cling to his body, somehow it felt like a mockery to your cold state.

“haha … nice jacket, i know you’re much more warmer and smarter than me. you don’t have to rub it in.” you jested through a freezing hiss, rolling your eyes at his attempt to push your buttons.

“w-what? wait no! just come here, please.” his voice sounded a bit more desperate than he intended it to be, but he usually doesn’t offer this treatment to anybody.

still confused, you shuffled towards him with caution. you silently gasped when you got closer, feeling the comforting warmth radiating off his body.

mike gulps nervously, feeling your panting chest grazing his. it was a strange feeling, how in sync your heartbeats were — they danced in the rhyme together, the tempo seemed to quicken as you approached him closer and closer. finally, he finds the courage to wrap his fleece jacket around your quivering body, hesitantly hugging you through the thick fabric.

your eyes widen in realization, he’s hugging you. mike schmidt is hugging you. he felt so warm and cuddly, all the lousy layers of old t-shirts he forced himself to wear felt like laying on soft pillows. the fur threaded in his jacket brushed its warmth against your frozen skin. but the thing making you burn up was the fact you’re so close to mike, shyly wrapping your arms around his frame while your head is nearly tucked into the nape of his neck — but you hesitated to go any further.

“are you warm?” mike’s voice was gentle in your ear, the flush of his body melted your bitter coldness in an instant.

you slightly nodded, still a little disoriented from this predicament.

feeling more comfortable, mike takes his gloved hand out of his pocket, assuring your stiffness as he petted your head, guiding you to rest in the nape of his neck. his warm pulse tapped softly against your forehead. you could hear his life line — every breath he takes. this felt like heaven, being held in mike’s arms. then he’s not protesting, his melting grip was tighter — protective like someone could snatch you away from his arms. he loved the way you smelled, delicate perfume and fresh laundry. if he could keep this close and take in your scent, he would if it wasn’t so creepy for him to do.

there was a comfortable silence between the two of you. the childlike chants and laughter faded into the background, the bitter cold didn’t feel so bad anymore. it felt like your hearts were clinging onto each other, feeding the aching starvation of touch and warmth. he needed this, you needed it too.

“are you guys finally dating now?”

a youthful voice forced you both out of a love trance, eyes widened and heads snapped towards the smaller figure. it was abby, a huge grin on her flushed face — half covered with a comically large knitted scarf.

“abby … don’t.” mike winced at her bluntness, but he still held you in a warm embrace.

you allowed him to cling onto you, equally flustered at her words but much more comfortable, even playful at the weird circumstances.

“i’m still patiently waiting for your brother to ask me out.” you teased the younger schmidt, earning an excited giggle and an exasperated sigh from the older schmidt.

maybe he should’ve just offered you his jacket if you were going to embarrass him in front of his younger sister.

add. note : hope you enjoyed some fluff anon !! and thank you, stay hydrated too because we’re all thirsty for grumpy security guard mikey ㅜ ㅜ

#.୨୧ ina writes #.purple mark #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson

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chaoticallyfluffy · 9 months ago

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I have a migraine and my brain is not working Erich means it’s the perfect time you come up but random v Billy batson ideas! Yay! Sorry for misspelling

As a toddler, bully would often be caught wearing the clothes of the people he loves. His father’s hat falling over his eyes and his tie tangled to the point where tehy have to cut it off of his neck.

His mother’s makeup smeared scores his face as he tries to walk around in her too-big heels.

His twin sisters favourite sweater and accessories.

After tehy died he didn’t have access to any of their clothes anymore since his uncle inherited and stole everything. He went a long time in only his clothes and forgot about that habit of his.

When he joins the JL he thinks it’s fine and he won’t get attached. He does. After a few years when he really feels comfortable around them he’ll sneak their extra costume bits away and try them on. Eventually it becomes a common and expected sight to see him wearing supermans cape over his own, or a green quiver on his back, or one of wonder woman’s bracers.

It’s strange but endearing. They think it’s just a normal thing for his species to show affection though borrowing and wearing others clothes and don’t dare to stop him, not that they’d want to anyway.

#migraine posting #sorry if this makes no sense lol #I’m not fixing those errors jisy deal with it #dc #billy batson #shazam #justice league #dcu #dc captain marvel #my rambles #ow #JL

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years ago

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Kenneth “Ken” Sean Carson x male reader

Smut drabble

Can you guys believe that Kens name is Kenneth?? What the hell,,,,, I loved the Barbie movie btw, I loved how worshippy Ken was, cuz what’s better than a guy that would kiss the ground you walk on.

Reader doesn’t know he’s like,,,, a doll I guess, they just think he’s the biggest himbo airhead in existence.

This was not proofread btw.

Kens bright blonde hair was soft between your fingers as you brushed your fingers through it, before tightening your hand into a fist as you pulled his head closer. Kens hands grasped at your thighs, his grip clenching and loosening over and over as he gurgled around your cock, wet sloppy noises filling the back room of the store you worked in. Pleasured moans left the blonde man on his knees in front of you, and you could catch his feet wiggling behind him in those ugly cowboy boots he wore. His hat had been thrown somewhere to the side so you could bury your hands into that blonde hair that was so light you were sure it had to be bleached, but as you pulled his hair you couldn’t see any sign of roots showing. Either he truly was the stereotypical dumb blonde, or he had a great hair routine. But his hair was too soft to be bleached as much as you were sure it was, so maybe he really was blonde. His name was even Ken, like those Barbie dolls you had seen your baby cousin play with.

It was very clear the guy had never given head before, but the way he moaned and slobbered over your dick made it just as good. Never before had you gotten such good head, Ken was just so enthusiastic about it, like pleasing you was all he could ever want. The first time you had muttered praise down at him, he had stared up at you in disbelief, like praise was something he had never heard before. His pupils are grown bigger and his lip had quivered, and then he dove on your length and swallowed all of it down in one go, like he had no gag reflex at all, sucking and slobbering over it to the point you had to bite down on your fist to stay quiet, so as to not moan so loud it alerted other customers or your coworkers.

What you didn’t know was that Ken really didn’t have a gag reflex, why would he have one? Hes a doll. Dolls had no need for that kinda thing. They also didn’t have a need for genitals, so it wasn’t like Ken could whip it out or let you go down on him, not that hed ever wanted to do that. Maybe it was the fact that Kens by nature were just accessories, there to better their Barbie and follow along to her every whim, hanging onto any bit of praise and positive attention they could get. But being here between your legs, his mouth and throat working your length with throaty noises, was enough to have Ken brimming with pride and a hot tingly feeling he couldn’t identify.

Every murmur of praise that left your lips had Kens hips twitching or his thighs clenching, even though there was nothing for him to clench around. You were sure you’d found the guy with the biggest praise kink in existence, so you kept going, brushing his hair out of his eyes and telling him how good he was, how pretty he was, how good of a boy he was. It seemed the more praise you gave him the more he preened and more effort he put into it, and to say you were amazed at how good he became so quickly? You couldn’t even put it into words.

Kens pretty blue eyes looked up at you as he swallowed down all you were worth, the tip of your length tickling the back of his throat, and where others would gag, Ken just hummed and looked up at you with wet eyes. His lashes were clumped together, but it only served to make him look even more needy and attractive. Kens throat clenched around you as he swallowed, and when he learned that action got you to moan, he kept doing it, almost milking you like he didn’t have any need to breathe.

Soon it was impossible to hold it back anymore, and you came down his throat, your head falling back against the wall you were leaning against as you ground your hips against Kens pretty face. Ken swallowed everything you gave him, wet gulps filling the tiny room you two were hiding in as he gulped and gulped, still looking up at you, his hands gripping the fabric of your pants.

He kept your softening length in his mouth as you released the rough grip you had on his hair, a pleased hum leaving him as his eyes fluttered, as you ran your fingers through his hair instead. “Such a good boy Ken, you did so well. Fuck, you’re so pretty, so amazing. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so good at sucking cock as you, I just wanna keep you all to myself” you murmured in a post orgasm voice, the praise thick and heavy as it fell endlessly from your lips.

The praise seemed to be what did it for Ken, at least from your perspective. For Ken, hearing all those words from you as you petted him had that hot tingly feeling in his abdomen growing, more and more until it seemed to overtake his entire being. His vision went white as he swallowed around your flaccid length, eyes rolling back as that feeling overtook him. Kens entire body shook as he felt a sudden weight between his legs, a soft length of his own appearing, which quickly seemed to be filling up as you talked him through his orgasm.

Ken was still floating off somewhere as you pulled him to his feet, hugging him to your chest to let him calm down from such a powerful orgasm. To you at least, that was what it seemed like. Someone who came from the praise and sweet attention you gave him, but to Ken it was something completely different. He had no idea what to do with the hardening length between his thighs as he started rolling his hips into your thigh, whimpered moans leaving him as he buried his face into your shoulder.

You bit your lip as you hesitated for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “Why don’t you come home with me Ken? Just for a bit” you asked, both worried about how strong his reaction had been, as you feared maybe you had put him in subspace, but also because you didn’t want to see the blonde cute himbo go just yet. You barely had to ask before Ken was nodding into your shoulder, soft murmurs leaving him that he really wanted to go with you, please don’t leave him. So, after tucking yourself away, making yourself presentable, and grabbing Kens cowboy hat, you signed out of work and tucked Ken into the passenger seat of your car, starting the drive back to your apartment, Kens hand in yours as you kept muttering praise to the blonde, who only replied with soft whimpers and moans.

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