#and this feels like we��re a step closer at least

[jeonstudios]

fontana di trevi | 01

you seek out a vampire to help you with something.

pairing: vampire!jk x sadgirl, blood donor!reader

genre: vampire au, angst, fluff (really a sadgirl fic lol)

word count: 7.6k

warnings: blood, needles, talking about how you euthanize cows and such? suicidal thoughts (not graphic or elaborated? very straightforward?)

rating: NC-17 – Adults Only

masterlist

part 1/2

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© between takes is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.

It’s a freezing cold December night when you step into the dark alleyway, your thighs having gone numb under your jeans a while ago. The sun set hours ago, and the only light present is that of a few scattered streetlights. 

Your pulse quickens as you take another cautious step. Something moves further in, where the light barely reaches, and since there’s no snow yet, you hear the slight crunch of frozen fall leaves under… footsteps. From the dark, a tall figure approaches slowly in a way that would have anyone’s blood chilling.

“I have a proposition,” you state, trying to stand somewhat tall.

"A proposition?” a low voice inquires, and you have to tilt your head up to look at the face that emerges from the shadows. “I’ll fuck you, but I’m not turning you for sex.”

“That’s not what—I don’t want sex or to be turned.”

He directs his full attention to you, and in turn, you get a better glimpse of his features. He looks like a man; incredibly handsome with jet black hair, eyebrows, and eyes, but his skin is paler than anything you’ve seen, and there’s the tiniest smudge of something red tinting the corner of his mouth. Though his eyebrow is raised, he doesn’t look very entertained.

“You can have my blood. All of it, if you just take it quickly.”

He lifts his hand to slowly wipe the red from his face. The outfit he wears—a black leather jacket and black pants—looks human but is definitely too cold to wear this time of year.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t simply take it if I wanted to? Why would I need your permission?”

“I’m just saying. Take it if you want it?”

He looks at you, seemingly at least a little intrigued by the odd human in front of him. You definitely understand that most people run the other way at the sight of this big, intimidating being. 

“You realize ‘all of it’ means you’ll be dead, right?”

You nod. “Do we have a deal?”

“Regardless of if I wanted to or not, I literally just… ate, so I physically can’t. Not for another week or so.”

You feel your shoulders drop slightly, and you blink, trying to improvise a plan.

“Okay, well… Do you want to meet here in a week, then?”

At that, he tilts his head. “You want to die here, in a dirty alleyway?”

“I don’t care. So yes or no?”

“If you want me to do this, give me something in return first, okay?”

You look at him in confusion. “You’re getting my blood?”

“Who's to say your blood is even good?”

Trying not to let his words discourage you, you look around, thinking. Maybe you should’ve played harder to get? At least in the sense of giving him a hunt? You don’t want to waste any time, but he might not be your best option. 

“Fine, do you know if there are other vampires around here? How do I find them?”

It took you three weeks to even find this one, and maybe it was more luck than anything, so setting off on another search doesn’t sound too exciting. These creatures really do live in the shadows.

“No, listen. Whether your blood is delicious or not, it would certainly be helpful to have it. But…”

“But?”

“Let me stock up on it first. Meet me at my place and let me take some every week for two months and then I’ll take the rest.”

You look around again, unsure if you should just try to find someone else. Two months is not ideal; it’s too long, and you’re sure you could manage to find someone else in the meantime. 

The vampire senses your hesitation and takes a step closer.

“You want it to be quick, which means you’re scared of pain. People around here, my kind, tend to drag it out. Pain and fear equal adrenalin, which gives the blood a certain… flavor that some enjoy. Agree to my compromise, and I’ll make it quick and practically painless.”

He gives you the smallest of smiles, barely a hint of one, but it feels wicked and makes a cold shiver run down your spine. You know he’s not trustworthy, but he’s getting a lot out of the deal, and you have nothing to lose, really.

“Okay. What’s the address?”

In the middle of the day a week later, you find yourself in front of a big two-story house. It’s nice, looks pretty expensive but… like a regular house? It’s painted white and definitely not blood-red or even black. Aligning more with your expectations is how the house is partially obscured from the road by huge, towering spruces and how it seems to lie just a little bit further from the neighboring houses. There’s a thin layer of snow on the ground now, but you’re not sure whether it’ll stick.

After confirming that no, there is no door bell, you lift your fist to knock on the door. Vampires have crazy good hearing anyway, right? You’d assume so, given the fact that they’re always portrayed as super fast, super strong, super… attractive, and with super hearing, super vision, just… super all around. The mythical creatures don’t officially exist to the world, but in your little town, everyone knows they do. And they do. You found one. So if they drink blood and are super attractive—at least this one—it’s not too weird to assume there’s more truth to their pop-culture portrayal. 

You can see how the town’s vampire believers and enthusiasts shake their heads in disappointment at your relative indifference, but truth be told, you’d probably be more curious about the vampire whose home you’re about to step into if the situation was different. Or maybe you’d have some self-preservation and run the other way?

The door opens almost soundlessly, and when you look up, you meet those black, bottomless eyes. It really is his color, you think, your gaze drawn to the short-sleeve, black button-down he’s wearing, the top three buttons or so left undone. With it, he’s wearing black pants on the looser side. He looks incredibly handsome, and very effortlessly so. His hair is shiny and looks soft, and like it naturally falls into that slight side-part.

“Are you gonna come in or just stand there and ogle me?” He isn’t smiling teasingly; he just looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry.” 

He turns to retreat back into the house, and you’re left to enter through the open door. There are no lights on inside, and when you close the door behind you, cutting off a majority of the daylight, you start to feel like you’re truly inside a vampire’s home. Still, it’s light enough for you to follow said vampire’s back after hastily removing your coat and folding it to leave over the boots you step out of. Since you assumed he needs access to the veins in your arms, you picked out a gray t-shirt and a black zip-up hoodie that’s a little too big on you, paired with jeans. Nothing fancy—you’re not there to impress him.

With quickened steps, you catch up to him as he wordlessly leads the way into his kitchen, a place you doubt he uses much. Vampires don’t actually eat, do they? Either way, the room is clean and feels almost... sterile, despite the walnut cupboards and dark gray countertops.

On the short end of a wide, matching walnut dining table, a bunch of supplies are laid out. He gestures to one of the two chairs positioned around the corner of the table, but as you sit down, he turns to leave.

“Uhm, I don’t know how to do this,” you admit, pulling the zipper of your hoodie down and slipping one arm out. “I mean, I’m sure it can’t be that complicated in… theory, but I don’t think I can do it on myself.”

“I’m just gonna wash my hands,” he explains, and there seems to be a very slight trace of emotion in his voice and on his face that you interpret as amusement. He thinks you're dumb.

Oh. Well… does it really matter if his hands are squeaky clean or not?

Water hits the sink with a familiar sound as you focus on the table, inspecting the supplies. There’s a needle with a tube attached to it, a tourniquet, some syringes, antiseptic wipes, and a few empty blood bags. A voice in your head wonders if maybe he changed his mind and will simply take everything at this moment because those bags look pretty big, and you’re not sure you can fill them and still walk out of this place. 

The water stops, and you sit pretty and wait until he positions the other chair in front of you, a little to the side. You’ve never been a fan of needles or having your blood drawn, so you focus your eyes the other way, to a specific part of his kitchen window and the overcast outside. You hear the sound of paper and plastic ripping, and you feel his cold fingers place and tighten the tourniquet around your upper arm and feel for your veins before he wipes the area clean.

“Scared of needles?” he teases arrogantly, and you see how he reaches for the sharp object on the table.

“Bodily reaction. I can’t help it,” you explain before holding your breath and waiting for the poke.

It comes soon after; an uncomfortable but not too painful prick. With one hand, he moves some things around on the table, and you try to keep as still as possible, loathing the feeling of a needle jolting around in your vein.

“You’re not curious as to why I know how to do this stuff? Or worried that I don’t?” he wonders, releasing the tourniquet and seemingly fastening the needle to your skin with some tape.

“No. I guess it doesn’t surprise me; blood and vampires seem to go hand in hand.”

He surprises you by letting out a quiet chuckle before placing a red stress ball in your hand. “Squeeze this. I’ll be back to change the bag in a few minutes.”

Nodding, you watch him rise from his chair and leave the room.

Left to your own devices and with the filling blood bag taped to the chair’s armrest by its thin tube, you close your eyes. 

The house is entirely silent, and you have no idea where the vampire went. After he moved the stuff around on the table, you were able to count exactly three blood bags with a printed 450 ml on them. That adds up to somewhere between one and one and half liters and around 30% of your blood volume if you’ve calculated correctly. According to your brief research, a human doesn’t typically survive losing more than 40% of their blood unless given emergency medical attention. You probably won’t feel too great after today, but you most likely won’t die. You think.

Slowly, the minutes start to tick by, but you feel okay so far. You’ve got a good rhythm going for the stress ball, squeezing, holding, releasing. Squeezing, holding, releasing. The silence has your mind wandering.

“You can stop for a bit.”

The vampire’s sudden voice has your eyes flying open. He hadn’t made a single sound, returning to the kitchen. Catching your breath, you nod, keeping the ball still in your hand. You don’t look at the needle in your arm, but you see the bag full of dark red that the vampire sits down and trades for an empty one, attaching the tubes before he fastens them in the same way to the armrest. 

When he’s done, he lifts his hand, and you spot one of his fingertips covered in red. For a split second, he observes it, and then he puts the finger to his tongue. At first, it’s weird to see, and you almost want to tell him that it’s not hygienic to taste other people’s blood. That is before you remember that other people’s blood is what sustains him.

He looks to be assessing something, and suddenly, you’re worried he might not like it.

“B positive," he focuses on you, but you give him a slight, confused shrug because you have no idea what blood type you are or what it means in this context. 

“Is that… okay?”

“It’s… meh. Not the most common but also not the rarest. Most of my kind prefer A or even AB, though.”

“Oh."

Of course, your blood is substandard. You nod toward the filled bag on the table. “Will you have any use for this then?”

Truly, it would be just your luck to not even have the scary creatures, who roam the night in search of victims to drain, want your blood.

“Yeah. Doesn’t matter. I can always use it as a backup if I don’t get the chance to feed in time. Squeeze.”

Per his order, you resume squeezing. The rest of the process goes relatively smoothly, although you’ve started feeling a lot… weaker by the time the second bag is full and the vampire is about to switch it for the third. 

There’s a lot about blood and the human body that you don’t know, and you’re silently wondering what the recovery rate is and if you can really give him this much every week. Does he plan on taking less next time or has he not taken it into consideration?

“Why do you want to die?”

You blink at his bluntness, looking at his uncaring face. He obviously doesn’t care to hear the longer story, and you don’t care to tell it, so you settle for a shorter, more condensed version.

“There’s something wrong with me. I don’t belong here.”

“Didn’t taste like it.”

“Maybe not physically.”

He doesn’t dig further, but when your blood starts trickling into the third bag, the vampire stays seated. You still close your eyes, afraid that you’ll stare at his face otherwise, and he didn’t particularly seem to like that. 

You’re not sure if it’s just the blood loss or a combination of having slept poorly for the last few weeks and being in a calm, silent environment, but you’re feeling tired. Really tired. And cold. 

“Squeeze harder,” his voice instructs, void of emotion. You do your best to follow his instructions, squeezing the ball tighter even though it’s getting difficult.

“We’re done.”

You open your eyes, finding the vampire much closer than before and his fingers swiftly removing the needle from your arm.

“Okay, so… uh…” you start, finding it hard to choose words or even think of what you want to convey in the first place. “Do I come back… same time… next week?” 

“No. Make it two weeks.”

You look at him, confusion written across your features, but it’s hard to focus your eyes on his face. It’s blurry, and there are dark spots infiltrating your vision.

“I took as much as I could, and while you won’t have time to replenish everything in two weeks either, I’ll at least get more out of you than in just one week.”

He smiles, and if you had the energy and maybe (mostly) the common sense, you’d be scared by the way he truly looks so wicked. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then.”

The vampire takes the stress ball from you and rises from the chair with the used supplies in his hands. You grip the armrests best you can, but your right hand slips, and you stumble a little, trying to stand. It’s so incredibly cold, and you feel dizzy, nauseous, and weak, putting your hoodie back on properly.

Very quietly, you hear him move around the kitchen, and while he hasn’t explicitly told you to leave, you’re very much assuming he wants nothing else. So on unsteady legs, you make your way back to the front door, where you grab your coat to haphazardly put it on, and you step into your boots, unable to bend down to tie them properly.

You’re able to make it to your old but trustworthy car that you parked on the street, but when you sit down in the driver’s seat and close the door behind you, you realize that you definitely can’t drive as it’s proving more and more difficult to even keep your eyes open. You can’t walk home, you have no one to come pick you up, and even if there probably is a bus stop somewhere around here, you don’t think you’d make it there. 

So with your last burst of energy, you pull the lever under the seat to push it back a little, leaving your boots on the floor as you bring your feet and knees up. Your coat finds a new purpose as a makeshift blanket, and you cover as much of your body as you can with it. Fully knowing that as you close your eyes, you might never open them again, you don’t care that much. Dying is what you want, anyway.

Surprisingly, you do open your eyes again. It’s dark when you do, and it’s so, so cold. Your heart is beating hard as it tries to circulate blood that just isn’t there anymore, and it’s with a low groan that you move, trying to reach for the phone in the pocket of your coat.

It’s seven p.m.. You met with the vampire at two p.m., and the visit took less than an hour, which means that you got into your car at maybe a bit before three, and so you’ve been passed out for four hours. It takes you a while to come to properly, and even when you do, you feel weak, groggy, and stiff. Ideally, you shouldn’t drive, but you have no other means of getting home, so you decide on a route consisting of smaller roads with lower speed limits and less traffic.

It’s no wonder you feel like you’re on death’s doorstep because when you do some further Googling on blood donation and blood volumes at home, you calculate exactly how much someone of your size would have. And you find that the vampire took 38% of that.

Three weeks later, you’re knocking on his door again. He opens it, an eyebrow raised and looking even more unimpressed than last time. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t show last week, but I was sick,” you inform, hoping he’ll accept your apology. “Didn’t think you would’ve wanted to see… that.”

“You’re right.”

That’s all he says before he turns, leaving the door open for you just like last time. Well, you take that as a sign that you’re forgiven, and so you follow him inside. 

Trying to keep up with him, you’re feeling even smaller and weaker around the tall vampire than before, and truth be told, you are. Because according to those Google searches, while it takes the body only approximately 24-48 hours to replace the blood plasma, it takes four to six weeks to replenish the red blood cells and recover fully. And that’s from having one bag of 450ml donated; you left three and it’s only been three weeks since. Essentially, the vampire is taking your blood a lot faster than you can produce it.

Like last time, you sit down on the same chair in his kitchen, but since he wasn’t expecting you, he has to retrieve the supplies from elsewhere. You remain quiet while he organizes everything, stealing a few glances at him in the meantime. This time, he’s wearing a black t-shirt and black shorts, and you’re amazed at just how… ordinary he looks. In the best way possible, of course. 

Without being too tight, the shirt does a very good job at showing off his physique: it hangs wonderfully off his shoulders and dips slightly between his pecs. It exposes the prominent veins stretching across both his arms and hands, and you wonder if vampires also ‘live’ in the way that he has a heart that pumps blood around his body. Or if he’s really ‘dead’ or ‘undead’ like some media describe them?

“What?” he questions, having caught you staring.

“You look very human,” you say quietly. “Like a college guy.”

An athletic college guy. The one who’s just a little too handsome to be exact.

The trace of amusement that flashes across his face is so faint that you’re not sure you didn’t simply imagine it. He doesn’t respond to your observation, only sitting down and reaching for your arm. His large hands feel a little warmer against your skin than you remember them doing last time, and you turn your head when he prepares the needle. There’s a pinch and then the immediate relief when he loosens the tourniquet.

“Here,” the red stress ball is placed into your hand again. Looking down briefly, you watch your own hand squeeze it, but the red fluid flowing through the transparent tube is too off-putting, and so you close your eyes again.

A minute or so passes while you keep squeezing the ball to some sort of rhythm tied to your breaths. It won’t be long. Soon, everything will be over. 

Somewhere, you lose track of time, and to regain some sense of reality, you flutter your eyelids open. Only to see the vampire stare coldly at you. You freeze.

“I thought you left,” you admit, the surprise clear in your voice.

“I’m keeping an eye on you,” he explains, face still stoic.

You look at him dumbly. “No offense, but why? The point is to kill me, anyway?”

“No, it’s to take as much as possible,” he corrects you. “To a reasonable extent. And then kill you. Here, let me change the bag.”

You close your eyes once more as he switches the full bag to a new, empty one. The dizziness comes a lot quicker than it did three weeks ago, but then again, you’ve been feeling more or less weak and faint ever since that first donation.

“Okay, we’re done.”

You look at him, surprised. “Already? But you didn’t even fill the second bag fully?”

“I took too much last time, and like I said, I want to get as much out of you as possible.”

For the first time, you think you see a hint of a discreet fang when he gives you a blood-chilling smile.

The process of removing everything is quick, and before you know it, you’re putting your feet into your boots again. You feel faint, like your knees might buckle under you any second, but you don’t feel weak to the point of passing out for hours in your car; you do that when you’re home in bed instead.

Suffering from what you gather is immense anemia, you don’t have the energy to really do anything between your visits to the vampire besides lie on the couch and watch TV. You quit your retail job the Monday after finding him in that alleyway, confident (and correctly so) that you wouldn’t be able to handle really any job at all. 

Even rotting away on the couch with your eyes glued to the screen, you can barely understand what the shows are about. Your brain struggles to place the people and remember the plot lines, and you find yourself almost daydreaming instead. Though it’s mostly just flashing images of the vampire whose name you still don’t know.

If your heart wasn’t already so strained, it would beat harder for him in some kind of fear-filled attraction. He’s absolutely gorgeous—and there’s definitely something almost drawing you to him—but he’s also so, so intimidating. If the end goal wasn’t to die, you’d for sure be running for the hills and looking over your shoulder late at night.

Next time, there’s a slight smile pulling on the vampire’s lips when he opens the door.

“Still alive?”

You chuckle quietly, looking down at your boots. “Unfortunately.”

Taking off your coat reveals another simple outfit with no other purpose than granting the vampire access to your arms while keeping your freezing body warm. This time, it’s a thick, brown cardigan over a t-shirt, paired with somewhat baggy jeans.

The contrast between your clothes is almost funny. Even indoors, you’d be freezing in the half-open thin, white dress shirt he wears messily tucked into black, also thin-looking slacks. The gap in his shirt makes you want to reach out and touch his pale chest, but of course, you keep your hands to yourself.

Once again, you follow him inside, and while you don’t need him to, he guides you to the same spot in his kitchen where the stuff is all laid out. 

Sitting down, you slip your arm out of the cardigan and place it on the armrest. The vampire washes his hands and then comes to sit down in front of you, reaching for the tourniquet to position it around your bicep. With the elastic band tightened, he rips open an antiseptic wipe to clean the inside of your elbow, and then, he prepares the needle like always. 

You look away, holding your breath until the pinch comes and for a few seconds after. 

“The whole thing about vampires losing control around blood… I take it that’s just storytelling?”

“Depends,” he answers, and despite not looking at him, you just know he’s got one eyebrow raised and a hint of a cocky smile on his lips. “If we’re hungry and someone happens to bleed around us, yeah, it can be more… tempting. Also depends on what sort of blood we prefer.”

“And you don’t like mine,” you state, your foggy brain concluding it the reason he seems to not care about the vulnerable blood right in front of him.

He laughs this time, a really nice sound that has your strained heart almost skipping an important beat. “I changed my weekly feeding to Thursdays, so I’m still quite full. And your blood isn’t vile, it’s just not what I personally go crazy for.”

“Oh,” you let out, looking at him before something dawns on you. “Wait. You eat once a week only? How much do you eat then? Or… drink?”

He nods toward the bag he just secured to your arm. “Someone of my size typically only needs about two of these a week to survive and not maniacally hunt and kill, but to really thrive? Between two and three liters, so four to six bags. I usually go hunting Friday or Saturday night when most bars and pubs are full. It’s surprisingly easy to find a few drunks stumbling around who won’t even realize what happened the day after.”

“So you don’t… kill?”

“Not if we can help it. There’s been… an increase in vampires around here, and if people drop dead? No, it’s less suspicious and only a little more work to find a few victims instead of draining one dry.”

“Makes sense.”

“Mhm. I typically don’t have to beg women to come with me, either.”

Something ice cold travels through your body at that last sentence. You wonder whose blood was on his lips that night when you found him.

“I can’t believe you’re telling me this, though? You seem like you’d tell me to mind my own business.”

Even more, you can’t believe you asked.

He smiles. “I don’t know. Like I said, people will occasionally find out what I am, find me fascinating, and ask a thousand questions. I’ve always thought it to be incredibly annoying, and I’m not really supposed to tell them anything even if I wanted to—which I don’t—but it’s been… odd, not being questioned by you. At all. Almost boring, like I’m not interesting to you.”

His answer surprises you, and for a moment, you imagine teenage you, not bubbly per se but at least a bit more naive than the current version. Would she be the type to annoy him? You don’t think so. 

“Objectively, you are interesting, but I can’t believe how brave people are? If things were different, I wouldn’t have gone out looking for a vampire in the first place. And if I somehow stumbled upon you, I would’ve run the other way because you’d terrify me.”

Slowly, he smirks at your honesty. 

“I scare you?” 

You’d be lying if you claimed the cold, calculating aura around him didn’t.

You’re not sure if he has any super powers like in the movies, but honestly, he wouldn’t need to be able to lift a bus to kill you. The scariest thing about him isn’t how he could end your life in a hundred different ways either way, it’s how he could drag it out and extend your suffering before doing so. Of course, your body and instincts find him scary, but in a way, your mind… doesn’t? Then again, you’re here because your mind wants him to kill you.

“I don’t know.”

“Hm,” is all he says, his eyes falling to the blood bag. “I have to change it. Hold on.”

“Okay,” you mumble, finding it hard to concentrate. Your heart beats so hard it hurts, but at the same time, your breathing is slowing down. Closing your eyes, you feel him move stuff around.

“How are you feeling?” he suddenly asks, but it doesn’t sound like he cares too much.

“Honestly? Terrible,” you admit, keeping your eyes closed. 

You keep still when you feel his hands on your arm, but then you hear a little… rip.

“Fuck.”

Curiously, you open your tired eyes, seeing the vampire hold the empty bag up to inspect it. 

“This was the last one I had. This brand is fucking terrible quality; how do you make blood bags so weak they rip?”

“You don’t have anything else to collect it in?”

He sighs defeatedly, “No, it needs to be in these kinds of bags so I can store and freeze it properly.”

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll have to stock up on them and maybe take more next time.”

You nod slowly and understandingly. That will probably be the last time, then.

About a week and a half later, you find yourself on a bench downtown, your hands in the pockets of your coat to keep them warm. It’s Saturday, and on the other side of the street, a few people are standing in line to be let inside your town’s best version of a nightclub. You’re not certain what exactly brought you here, and you’re sure that if the happy, club-dressed people took the time to observe their surroundings, they’d notice you staring and look at you weirdly in turn.

“Hello?”

Registering the almost rude-sounding voice, you blink as you turn your head. It’s a guy. 

“Huh?”

His face looks skeptic, and he’s got his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. He’s not wearing a jacket or coat of any kind over his white t-shirt, so you gather he’s in the middle of a night out. Probably left a bar for a smoke and spotted you.

“I asked you what your name is? Like three times?”

He’s good looking with black hair and dark eyes, but the tone of his voice is very unattractive, and you have no interest in him whatsoever, knowing he isn’t just looking to be your friend.

“Oh. Uh…”

You don’t say it. It’s not that you don’t remember your name or that you’re making a conscious effort to deny him the information, but it’s like your thoughts are at a standstill. 

“Beat it.”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. His lips didn’t move.

“And who are you?” he asks, irritation dripping from his words, and this time, his lips are moving. However, his eyes are not on you but on something behind you.

Just as you’re about to turn around, the man in front of you leaves. His steps are quick, his mission abandoned.

“What are you doing here?”

Of course. It clicks the moment the vampire comes into view, and you’re surprised you didn’t immediately recognize his deep voice. He’s wearing that same leather jacket and some black pants, an outfit still very much inappropriate for winter. Though, something about him feels… wilder, almost a little uncontained? You can’t put your finger on what exactly.

“Uh, people-watching,” you inform as he rounds the bench, sitting down next to you.

Because he’s beautiful like no other, you glance discreetly at his face. He’s so masculine, but in certain lights, you glimpse something softer. You particularly like his nose and its rounded tip. It gives him such an attractive profile, you think, gaze traveling over his features and lingering on his dark eyelashes.

“Why? Isn’t it cold as hell for you?”

“Uhm, I don’t know? And I guess?”

From looking straight ahead, he turns his head, redirecting his full attention to you. The light from the closest street lamp reflects in his dark eyes.

“Is there any truth to that whole ‘vampires are designed to lure humans in’ thing?”

He grins. “I lure you in?”

“You’re more intimidating than you are attractive, actually,” you admit earnestly, wincing a little on the inside at how it came out a bit like an insult. He’s definitely attractive, and maybe the fact that he is so attractive is part of why he’s also so intimidating. “I’m just wondering what you looked like before.”

“I’ve always looked like this,” he explains casually, once again peering out over the cold, dark street. “Vampirism doesn’t change anything besides, like, skin impurities and conditions. I would’ve shown you a picture, but there were no cameras around when I was human,” he smiles cheekily.

“Anyway, you should go home. It’s really cold and not really safe at this time either,” he encourages.

You nod, realizing that he wants to protect his backup supply. “Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll see you next week.”

“Mhm.”

You expect him to get up and leave, confused when five seconds pass and he hasn’t moved. The feeling seems to be mutual because he turns his head to look at you again.

“So, are you leaving or not?”

“I am.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

You look away, clearing your throat a bit awkwardly and realizing that you might just have to tell him, since he doesn’t seem to be leaving before you. “I don’t think I… can. I walked here, but I think I overestimated myself.”

The vampire looks you over briefly, probably just to be sure, but you both know that your main health concerns aren’t visible. 

“Where do you live?”

“Oh, not that far. Like less than a ten minute walk, but I…”

“What’s your address?”

“124 Conch Street.”

“Stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Puzzled, you follow his instructions and slowly rise to your feet. Though you’ve been sitting stranded on the bench for almost two hours, the dizziness returns the moment you stand.

But the vampire isn’t satisfied. “Get up on the bench and undo your coat up to your waist.”

This time, you give him a skeptic look.

“Just do as I say,” he holds his hand out for you.

Slowly and still confused, you take it, and with his aid, you step up onto the bench.

To your surprise, he lets go, and before you know it, he’s unzipped your coat from the bottom up to your waist, positioned himself in front of you, and grabbed your thighs. Instinctively, you place your arms around his neck as he hoists you onto his back and starts walking.

“What are you doing?” you breathe quietly.

“Taking you home in an inconspicuous way. It looks like we’re a couple, does it not?”

“Definitely an odd and unexpected couple if so, but I guess?”

“You’re a pretty girl, you know?”

Your lungs hold your breath for an extra second before slowly releasing it, and then you hum, but it’s only to actually provide him with an answer. You definitely don’t think you’re anywhere near pretty enough for someone like him. He doesn’t call you out on your vague answer.

You’re not the most common sight, couple or not, and people still watch you as you pass them. Unsure as to how to meet their curious gazes, you don’t; turning your head forward instead. When you’re so close, you inevitably catch his scent, only to find that he doesn’t smell like a whole lot. There are traces of soap, laundry detergent, and maybe a hint of cologne, but not much else. No lingering smell of sweat or anything like that.

He walks you through the city and past the alleyway where you first found him. It’s quiet, except for the muted sound of his footsteps as well as those of a man a bit ahead, evidently hurrying to get home and away from the cold.

“Are there more vampires here?” you wonder, looking around the silent street and thinking it might not be as empty as it seems. 

“Yes,” he confirms casually.

It has your brain working, and the surroundings reminding you of why you’re with him in the first place.

“How are you going to kill me?”

If he’s caught off guard by your straightforward question, he does a good job of not showing it. 

“I don’t know.”

“Okay. But I’d rather not bleed out,” you say, body aching at the mere thought. Although you’re certain there are much worse ways to go, you really don’t like the feeling of severe blood loss.

“It’s the easiest way though,” he explains. “It’s not as easy to drain a body without a heartbeat to move the blood around.”

“Are you familiar with livestock?” you ask, thinking back to what your three-year-older cousin once told you as you biked past a field of cows one summer when you were ten. “You can kill the animal and then ‘deblood’ them by hanging the body upside down and cutting their throat. The blood will drain easily. Do you have a bathtub?”

“You’re… a person though, still,” he says, and though he doesn’t falter in his steps, you can tell your words don’t sit quite right with him. “There’s no dignity in an ending like that. And don’t you care what happens to your body?”

To say you’re surprised is an understatement. You thought vampires were all bloodthirsty monsters, only biding their time until they can rip someone new apart. The messier, the better. The vampire, who’s carrying you on his back, made no effort to appear nice either. At least not at first. Now, you don’t even know.

You shrug slightly. You’re not a spiritual person, and you’ve never believed in something like an afterlife. “It’s just meat and bones. I won’t be here anymore, and no one’s going to be looking for me, anyway. There’s no use in keeping things ‘pretty.’”

He doesn’t say anything in turn, and you wonder how much about you he knows. How much about your life he realizes.

The vampire’s smooth movement lulls you further into relaxation, and you lean your head partly against your own arm, partly against him. He doesn’t say anything.

Way sooner than if you would’ve walked with your own two legs—if you would’ve made it home at all—he puts you down in front of your apartment complex. You search your pockets, locating your keys in the left one. 

“Going home now? Since you can’t enter without permission,” you joke tiredly, unlocking the front entrance with the key fob. 

The vampire raises his eyebrows. “I might as well make sure you don’t somehow trip and spill all my blood on the way to your apartment,” he smirks, grabbing the door and opening it wide without breaking eye contact. “And you shouldn’t believe everything you see or read.”

The smile he’s wearing as he makes a show out of stepping inside the building is another chilling one. You can’t say that you expected him to hit an invisible wall or anything, but for some reason, it would’ve almost felt… nice if that were the case. Considering your situation, you’re not sure why. 

The elevator is empty and waiting for you, and after getting inside, you press the button for floor two, the vampire coming to stand beside you.

“Is there anything that is true regarding vampires?” you ask quietly as if someone would hear you inside the elevator.

“Besides the fact that we drink blood?”

“Yeah. Are you like, immortal and stuff? Super old?”

He chuckles. “Kinda. I don’t think anything’s truly immortal, but we do have a longer life span, yes.”

“What about senses? Can you hear my heart beat right now?”

“Yes. It sounds like it’s about to burst through your chest.”

Yeah, because it’s strained to hell and back, trying to keep you alive even in the condition you’re in.

“And super speed, super strength and all that?”

“Mhm, although we’re not so fast we go blurry. Are you impressed?”

“I don’t know? What do you use it for? I can’t think of even one thing having those powers would improve in my life.”

“Tough crowd,” he chuckles, avoiding your question as he follows you out of the elevator. 

You understand that being physically superior is helpful when you’re a literal predator, and yeah, maybe being able to walk a tiny bit faster to work every morning would’ve saved you some time, but what else? Oh, yeah, one time, you had to throw away a jar of pickles because you simply could not get it open. Being stronger would’ve definitely helped you then. 

Reaching your door, you’re quick to unlock it and pull it open to head inside, ignoring the two envelopes lying on the floor in your hallway. The vampire stays at the door, watching as you start to remove your coat two or so steps away from him.

“Are those… bruises?”

Turning your head as you make your way to the wardrobe to put the coat away, you see the vampire looking almost worried. You look down at the skin on your arms. 

“Yeah.”

“Let me look at them,” he urges, holding his hand out.

“Why? They come with anemia; why does it matter?”

“Still, I want to see. Come over here.”

Despite looking oddly insistent, he makes no effort to actually enter your apartment.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. “You really can’t come inside without an invitation, can you?”

He sighs exasperatedly. “Technically, no, I can’t step inside unless you give me permission.”

It makes you laugh a little in wonder. “Wow.”

He rolls his eyes, but you can tell it amuses him a little too.

“Listen, I’ll be fine until we meet again and if the bruises are still there, you can look at them then. I kinda don’t actually want to invite you in, is that rude of me?”

“No, it’s not. Very reasonable, actually.”

“Okay, then I’ll see you Friday?”

He nods politely and steps back. “See you.”

You watch him leave, his footsteps sounding through the hall as you bend down to pick up the envelopes you’ve been ignoring for days. They’re probably bills, and you’ll be dead soon, so who really cares if you pay them or not?

Mindlessly, you approach the door to close it, your focus on the white paper in your hands. You put your finger under the fold to rip the first envelope open, wincing when the paper cuts through your skin instead.

Holding your finger up, you inspect the damage and the little bead of red that’s forming next to the invisible cut. You look at it, furrowing your eyebrows at how you feel like something’s… missing? A moment later, you realize what it is, and your body freezes. 

The footsteps have stopped.

It dawns on you, as you look at the blood, what the vampire was actually doing tonight and why he looked wilder than usual. Early Saturday night, lurking around the clubs until he found you and had to abandon his plans. 

He was hunting.

Your eyes widen and your heart stops as you hear it. One footstep. Then another. And another. They’re speeding up, and soon enough running toward you.

Before you’ve had a chance to shut the door, it flies wide open. Panicked, you move farther into the apartment, but you fall backward and by pure instinct, crawl back as quickly as you can.

Despite claiming that he couldn’t enter without your permission, the vampire falls to his knees, then all fours, to reach you. You’ve never seen anything as scary as the bloodthirsty creature grasping the air, trying to get you. He moves so quickly, and his hand is just about to grab your foot when it’s like… he’s held back by something. 

You're breathing heavily, trying to understand what’s happening. Why doesn’t he just move another three centimeters? He licks his lips in frustration, exposing fangs that are definitely longer than you remember. Meeting his eyes, they’re cold like never before, and he exhales angrily. He’s still reaching for you, and frozen in your spot, you look over at him, briefly wondering if his feet got stuck or something when it hits you.

He can’t step inside.

You sit there, your feet mere centimeters from his grasping hand when there’s a sound down the hall, and in a split second, the vampire seems to snap out of it. He looks at you, appearing to realize what he’s doing and somehow gaining control over himself. Looking around, he gets up, and he leaves. Quickly and without a word.

Wide-eyed and with your heart beating painfully, you remain on the floor, wondering what the hell just happened. Even when his footsteps are long gone, you’re too afraid to get up and close the door, worried that he’ll return and be able to reach you. 

You’d like a very serious word with whoever established the ‘no entering without permission’ rule but also decided that the vampires could cheat it by keeping their feet outside and crawling inside.

You sleep a little uneasy the following nights, thinking a lot. Of course, your thoughts are mostly occupied by those cold, black eyes, thirsty for your blood.

<previous | next> happy halloween <3<3

[barbarianbookhoe]

I swear I'm never gonna find the love I know I right-fucking-fully deserve

I just rewatched Bridgerton season 3 for the 3rd time already, and MY GOD, if a man does not yearn for me like a Bridgerton man😩

Request: Kaz Brekker x drunk (fem) reader (this is a long fcking one)

Too Sweet

TW: fluff, mention of assault

"And then, THEN he said I am just as useful as a rock. A damn rock!," she scoffed as she swayed in her seat. "Rocks can bee useful," she mumbled, "you can throw 'em at people. Like me! I can be thron at people," she hiccuped once before pointing at her glass for the bartender to re-fill.

The guy just shook his head at her and told her to stop shouting at costumers, or find someplace else. Apparently, she's been a lot friendlier than she thought.

She dropped some kruge on the counter, not having enough common sense left to count if it was even enough.

"But his eeeyes while he looked at me, oh Saints, his eyes are so beautifuuul, and sooo blue, they make me swoooon," Y/N told a waitress, who just laughed at the lovesick girl, who's been talking about a boy for the past 10 minutes.

"Oh honey, you have such a soft spot for that boy!" She laughed, and Y/N just nodded. "Yeah, and-and you should see his cheeks and ears, that when he gets flustred, no, flusterred, uh, flus-tered, yes, they turn red but he hides it, and no one sees, but I see it, because he has such a preeeetty face," she tells her on a high pitched voice, and even rests her head on her arms and lets out a sigh.

Y/N talking about her love life being the only thing actually happening in the small bar, the waitress sats down in front of her after getting out a round of drinks. The two women began their discussion about the boy, and the way Y/N cannot stop smiling while talking about him makes the waitress smile herself.

The sound of a cane tapping on the floor makes the lady turn around, only to find the Bastard of the Barrel himself staring right at her. No, not at her, but the girl on the other side of the table. She gets up and with a quick goodbye slips out of her seat, to make her way to the other side of the place.

Kaz Brekker, as if he had all the time in the world, slowly walked over to his Crow, who was supposed to be in the Club with their group hours ago.

He'd only been trailing her for an hour or two, but in that time she already went through 3 bars. Not counting the one, or ones, where he wasn't present. And without paying. Kaz made sure she wouldn't be in debt by the next morning. As he looked at her drunken state, he began questioning his own plan to get her home as soon as possible.

"Jeeesss!" Y/N looked up at him giddily, practically dragging her words out. "Come 'ere you silly," she signaled for him to sit down, to which Kaz just rolled his eyes. She must've drank quite a lot if she thought him to be the sharpshooter. "Why you in black?" She shook her head as if getting rid of her question and looked at him giddily yet again.

Kaz couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that slowly made its way into his well-guarded heart. The feeling that she looked the happiest in that moment, drowned in alcohol, probably on the edge of alcohol poisoning, and staring at him with such joy Kaz rarely saw anymore on her, even less in his life. It was clear to him that she was going through something, he just didn't know what it was.

If he had any talent for it he would've drawn her right in that moment, to capture her smile, the shine of her eyes, to keep her this happy at least on paper, to keep her smiling.

"Alright, get up. You're going home," Kaz sternly told her to which she just scoffed. "Ah, but Jesper we have so much to talk aboouuuut," she whined as he took a step closer. "This wasn't a question. You. Are. Going. Home."

"Alrigh', alrigh'," Y/N mumbled to herself as she tried to steady herself enough before attempting to walk on her own. After a few seconds of failing to do so, she quickly straightened her back and began her uncoordinated, swaying march for the door. Kaz was just two steps behind her, and when they got out on the street, he took half a step closer as he stepped next to her.

"Am I late for that meeting? Nahh," She mumbled loud enough for Kaz to hear. "It don' matter. What do I do?" She turned her head to Kaz for a split second before loudly continuing. "I'm talking Jespeeerr!" Kaz quickly shushed her, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to them.

"Don't ssssshhh me, Kaz sssssh-ushes me, not you!" She said and had it not been for Kaz, she would've tripped in her own foot. "I feel like he doesn't like me anymore," she said then, but Kaz just kept quiet, waiting for her to continue. "I want to tell him to shut up for once, to give 'im my opinion," she began gesturing before herself, as if she wasn't even talking to him anymore, more to herself.

"I feel like... punching him, givin' 'im a piece of mind. Yah, let'ss do that!" She quickly turned around, probably to find Kaz who was standing next to her, but Kaz caught her elbow and stood her in front of him. "You won't do that, alright? You're going home to sleep, and if you still feel like it, you'll give him a punch tomorrow."

"But whyyy? He's always up at night, and that'ss when we taaalk. I can't tell 'im during the dayy!" Her words began to slur again and she was swaying, so Kaz took it as a sign, that she was still in fact really drunk. He didn't let go of her elbow as he guided themselves towards her little flat near Fifth Harbor. It was more like one big room rather than a flat, but she didn't spend that much time there to care about it.

"And why can't you? Is there an unkown force keeping you from it?" He told her while he fought the nausea slowly coming up his throat. They'll be there in a few minutes, he reminded himself. "Jess, why are you the one asking? You're always telling me to lissen to my heart, to not overthink, to just say it. You're not Jesper, that's why!" She said more to herself than Kaz.

"Say what?" Kaz turned to Y/N for a few seconds, trying to see her face to determine what she was feeling. He found himself as curious when he was just a small boy, watching the magicians on the streets of Ketterdam. He watched every little detail of her face, from the flatter of her eyelashes to the unnoticeable tremble of her lips, trying to guess what she was going to say.

"Again with the questionss," she mumbled and right after spoke up on a sad tone, her vice slightly trembling, almost as if she was holding back from crying. "You sound like my landlord. Saints, I hate 'im. He's always angry a-and yelling, and soooo tall, taller than Matthias," she said and Kaz noticed the barely noticeable crack in her voice, making him worry about what more she had to say.

"I mean, I fought 'im twice yesterday, you know, 'cause he was demanding the rent I already payed, givin' me a great punch to my ribs, but like, you know, I'm a fighter, I can take 'im any day, but I mean, he's sooo tall and, and I was tired, so you know I didn't have too much "fight" in me." Y/N rambled, probably unaware of admitting that she was assaulted and making it seem less serious than it was, but still, it made Kaz's vision fog up with red.

How did he not know? How could he let this happen under his watch? Why didn't he felt the need to investigate her place, like he first intended to?

She was still rambling about her landlord and their multiple fights, yes, multiple Kaz realized, getting angrier by the second, when she stumbled and Kaz had to yank her up before she fell on the hard ground.

Without a second thought, or any thought at all, Kaz put her arm around his shoulder and carefully slipped his other arm around her waist to keep her somewhat standing. They were just a block away from her place, but Y/N seemed to cling to Kaz, her legs barely functioning at this point, and Kaz had to lean themselves against an old brick building before they both collapsed.

He also had to take a breather from all the touching, not being used to touching her for this long. Yes, they've stitched up each other countless times, sometimes even caring enough to change each other's bandages. But that never lasted longer than half a minute, or one, which was the limit for Kaz.

As soon as he calmed down, he felt warm fingers touching his face.

He froze in his spot and he had to close his eyes and concentrate on his breathing if he didn't want to start panicking. A minute passed by, and the hands still didn't leave his face, but they began to explore his every feature. It started at his cheeks then to his jaw, his forehead, the hand smoothed over his eyes so carefully as if he was made from glass, then the fingers stopped at his lips. He didn't even know he was forcefully keeping them in a thin line until the warm touch made them slightly part.

When Kaz opened his eyes he felt his heart stop and melt all at once, he felt it cease to beat only to then began pumping his blood with so much force he felt as if his heart was trying to fire up his veins.

Y/N was looking at him with a longing gaze, as if this was her last, yet the first time seeing him. As if he was something worth looking at.

She kept looking at him even though Kaz swore his heart was about to burst into a mess of blood and flames. Her fingers lingered on his lips as her other hand came up to softly caress the side of his face, touching a strand of hair. As if she wasn't able to stop touching him. Kaz felt his lips part even more than before, and his breath got stuck in his throat at her touch. He kept his eyes on her as he felt the need to close them for just one second. He felt his heart throb too fast for his liking, feeling his head getting dizzier by the second.

He was sure he was about to faint.

When her thumb caressed his lips for one second, just one second, she moved both of her hands to the side of his face ever so gently, and Kaz felt his knees tremble under her gaze. They never once broke the eye contact, which made the moment feel even more intimate. The way she was looking at Kaz, the way her eyes reflected the dim light next to them on the street made her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, and Kaz felt himself quietly gasp for air.

Kaz Brekker gasped for air, mesmerized by the sight of her.

He was trying to figure out the emotion behind the look she was giving him all night, when she mentioned him or his name, when she realized he wasn't Jesper, when she took his face in her hands, as she caressed him with such tenderness, as if one wrong touch could shatter him like the finest porcelain.

But when she moved her thumb back to his lips again, slightly caressing it without even noticing, Kaz finally dared to speak up.

"What are you-," He couldn't finish the words he was whispering, because Y/N put his handkerchief between their faces, holding it onto Kaz's lips, as if she was about to...was she? Was she about to...kiss him? Kaz felt like fainting again.

When she spoke up, the drunk look was somewhat gone from her eyes, and bittersweetness took over. "My imagination is wicked, but this might be the cruelest thing it ever did to me, making me see you as if you were real, as if you were here." She whispered it so gently that Kaz had to take a second to grasp what she was saying. "I'm here Y/N, I've been here all night." He said, but she just sadly shook her head.

"You're another hallucination, dream-Kaz, because I can never kiss you in the real world. And even in my dreams, I can't do it without respecting you first," she whispered, smoothing the handkerchief over his lips.

Kaz couldn't pin-point when did his heart pumping began too loud for him to hear, or when did he forget to breathe, but what he knew exactly, was the fact that these all made his thoughts cease to exist. Except one.

"You...dream about me? Above all people you could have choosen, you chose me to dream about?" He asked breathlessly, not believing how small his own voice sounded. Still, tears began welling up in Y/N's eyes, which she tried to keep at bay, but a single drop escaped and she let it stream down her face as she spoke up.

"You're... everywhere, all the time, and I can't escape you from my imagination, sometimes even preferring to hallucinate because that's where I know I'll find you, where I'm brave enough to-to say 'I love you' to your face, without having to deal with your rejection, because I-" As she glanced away from him trying to blink away her tears, Kaz gently took the handkerchief away from his lips and instead held her hand which put the handkerchief on him.

Kaz finally realized how she looked at him. If their racing hearts, her shallow breath, the tremble of her voice wasn't enough clue, than her touch certainly was. Throughout her speech her hands were still on his face, unmoving, not daring to move, instead keeping them there in a tender touch. She was in-

"I'm irrevocably, unconditionally, and fatally in love with you Kaz Brekker."

Sharp breaths and worried looks.

Unnoticeable steps and reassuring nods.

A trembling exhale.

One quick step, and Kaz was kissing her.

Their lips colliding against one another like the sun sets on the dark sea, like the moon takes the sun's place, like fireworks lighting up the sky. Her lips a mix of cheap alcohol and something sweet, his the scent of coffee and something salty. Her shyness, afraid of hurting him, clashing with his yearning movements, all of a sudden forgetting everything that wasn't her. His hand found its way onto the back of her neck, while the other gently touched the side of her face, just as she did mere seconds ago.

Kaz couldn't begin to think about his aversion, nor his nausea, because he was surrounded by her. Her scent, her lips, her hands on his face, her gasp in the kiss. He kissed her as if she was the air he was breathing, and he had been drowning, therefore he took the breath that belonged to him. Kaz never kissed anyone before, nor did he imagine himself doing so, but he did it with a strange hunger, as if he was a starving animal in captivity.

In a way both of them were animals, walking the cruel roads of the city, taking down anyone that crossed their paths in the need of survival. In a way, Kaz was no better than a starving animal, looking for crumbs to feed his hunger, finding any way for revenge to ease his anger. And in a way, Y/N was the first healthy taste that could keep Kaz from starving again.

She was addicting. The kiss couldn't have lasted more than 5 seconds, but Kaz already felt himself in need of another. He only tasted her once but he wanted more. So much more.

His knees didn't stop weakening, and he still couldn't quite catch his breath, and maybe it was from the lack of air in his lungs, or his heart beating too loudly in his ears to hear anything, but despite his past with touch, despite his head trying to tell him to stop, almost as soon as they broke apart Kaz captivated her once again.

This kiss was more tender than the first. Kaz still kissed her with wild hunger, but now he took his time getting familiar with her lips. Although, Y/N didn't let herself fall under his spell this time, she daringly smoothed her fingers through his raven hair, stopping at the nape of his neck and gently caressing some strands. She stood still, letting Kaz do what he wanted with his hands on her.

It all felt like a dream, a dream that she was bound to keep like a memory, not just another one of her hallucinations. She knew this wasn't real, it couldn't have been, because she knew her Kaz could never touch her like this. Not in this lifetime. So she let herself get lost in this dream more than she should've let herself to, because she knew her drunkenness would be a reasonable excuse.

Therefore she couldn't bring herself to step away from him. She wanted to kiss him, needed to kiss him, desperately, and if this was the only way she would do so, in her drunk imagination, then she would have to settle for it. She had to accept that this lifetime wasn't meant for them.

Kaz knew his anger. It was hot and messy, uncalculated, selfish and greedy, which brought out the monster in him. It made him destroy everything in his path, without a single care about who's coming down with him. Kaz knew his anger.

Except this time. As he stepped inside Y/N's flat, looking at the broken chair in the corner, the different marks on the walls, and the small droplets of dried blood at the entrance, he felt a deep rage take over him, and out of instinct he tightened his arm around Y/N just a bit more.

He imagined every scenario as Y/N talked about the fights, from the bad to the worst, but seeing the remnaints of those fights in the organized and neat place felt almost ridiculous to him.

Y/N didn't bother with covering about the damage. She kept her place clean and comfortable as always, and now her place looked like as if the two sides of her life clashed against one another.

Kaz walked over to the bed with her and sat her down, before he grabbed a glass and poured her some water. He signaled for her to drink it and she agreed, probably unaware of what she was drinking. Meanwhile Kaz looked around and lit up a few candles around the room. Then Y/N moved to take off her boots, failing to do so. After multiple attempts and swearing under her breath, Kaz spoke up.

"Stop that and lie down. I'll help," he told her and set his cane down on the bed next to her. She began giggling as he knelt down on one knee to take her boots off. "If you wanted to get me into bed, you could've just asked," she chuckled and Kaz felt his face heat up. He was grateful that she couldn't see his face right now.

"And what would be the fun in that?" Kaz asked and Y/N could hear the cockyness in his voice. "The easiness. I would let you without thinking, you know." Kaz sat her boots next to her bedside table and looked up at her as she slowly sat up.

"You're not an easy woman Y/N, therefore I wouldn't want easy with you." Kaz told her and watched her smile faltered and her eyes got bigger, like when she was concentrating on something. He took it as a sign to continue.

But before he did, he took a moment to really look at her like this. Face red from drinking, eyes shining in the candelight, her gaze full of emotion, hair messy from touching it too much, a few strands sticking to the side of her face, probably from sweat. Kaz moved to tuck those strands of hair behind her ear, and Y/N watched his tender movements with a sleepy smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Kaz, still on his knees, told her to go to sleep and she happily obliged. She fell back on the bed, quickly moving around for a comfortable position then closed her eyes and fell asleep in just a few minutes.

"I'll be right here," Kaz whispered as he got up from his kneeling position, and got to work.

Y/N woke up to the sound of keys jingling. Against her tired muscles she quickly sat up and grabbed her knife from under her pillow. When her front door opened she threw the knife without hesitation.

Knowing that she probably didn't aim right she grabbed another knife from her bedside table and rushed to the intruder. She grabbed the back of their coat and held the knife to their throat, or she would've, if the person didn't block them with their cane. With the beak of the crow.

"This is how you greet your friends?" Kaz asked mockingly to which Y/N just rolled her eyes and took her knife away from Kaz's face. "Why are you here?" She asked back.

"Good morning, yes I'm quite fine, how are you?" He said and the small grin on his face made Y/N want to kick his cane from under him. "Been better. Could do without the slight headache though, but I'm sure it comes and goes with you," Y/N told him and turned her back to get the knife back in its place.

"You were much better company last night." She turned around abruptly. "What did I do?" Kaz didn't answer at first, which made her worried she did something stupid again. "Kaz, what the hell did I do last night?"

"For starters, you hit up probably half a dozen bars to drown yourself in whatever was cheapest. Then you poured your heart out, probably would've fallen into the canal if it wasn't for me," He said the last words with a mix of mocking and smugness. "Better question: what did you do?"

"A thank you would suffice for saving your ass," He told her and she just scoffed. "Thank you, for being a-" Y/N started but as she hopped down on her bed she felt her ribs ache and she had to breathe loudly to ease the pain. Kaz was in front of her in seconds and had an almost worried look on his face. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just-nothing. Probably slept in a bad position," she winced as she put a hand on her left side, but she didn't miss the fact that Kaz reached his hand out. It was only a second, or half a second before he took it back, but she saw it.

Imaged of him touching her flashes through her, his hands in her hair, on her face and neck. She could still feel the touch on her lips, and for a second she just stared back at him in surprise. Was it...was it real? Kaz looked at her questioningly, not knowing what just went through her mind.

Then Kaz sat his cane on her bedside table before he got rid of his coat and put it next to her on the bed. Another image came up: the same position, but he was kneeling in front of her. Y/N shook her head a little, trying to get rid of the images.

"Kaz, what are you do-AH," Y/N shouted as Kaz lifted up her shirt and put his hand on her ribs. He kept poking her left side all the while she was cursing him into oblivion. When Kaz finally stopped and reached for the hem of her shirt she grabbed her clothing and clutched it.

"Hey! No more of this! What do you think you're doing?"

"Measuring up your bruises. I need to know how many punches you took," Kaz told her as a matter-of-factly, and Y/N stared back in confusion. "From who?!"

"Your landlord. Mr. Kozar."

Silence fell over the room. Kaz could see the confusion turn into embarassment, then into fear. Y/N was still clutching her shirt, but this time with a tight grip to ground herself in reality.

"How do you-" She started, but then stopped as she looked up at him. "I told you last night, didn't I?"

"Yes, everything," Kaz had to slightly bite down on his lip, so as not to tell her what did he plan for her landlord tonight. The sight of her, slowly curling in on herself, looking as if she wanted to disappear, when Kaz knew better than anyone that she always made her presence known everywhere she went.

Kaz gently touched the hem of her shirt, next to the piece of fabric she was currently holding in an iron grip, when she looked at him again, this time with uncertainity. Kaz just waited.

"If you want to take off my clothes, at least ask my permission first. Be a gentleman," Y/N told him quietly and loosened her grip on her shirt. Kaz scoffed quietly as he kneeled down in front of her. "I'm anything but gentle," he said, his touch on her shirt never tightening.

"Can I?" Kaz asked on a voice so soft it could've melted gold. Y/N never heard him talk that way, therefore she had to take a moment to grasp her head around how sweet his voice sounded. "Can I take off your shirt?" Kaz asked her again, his soft, sweet voice not faltering. Y/N gently nodded. "Yes."

The minutes while Kaz looked at her bruises, sometimes poking them again, she felt like crying the entire time. Not from the pain, that she was used to living in the Barrel for this long, but from how tender his touches were. He may believe he's not a gentleman, but Y/N knew the truth. She knew the heart behind the iron bars.

After Kaz finished, he handed her shirt back and even helped when she had to stretch out her side. He told her one of her ribs might be fractured, but it shouldn't cause her any trouble tonight.

"Is there a job tonight? Wait, was the meeting I missed last night about this?" Y/N asked Kaz quickly after she reached for her boots to put them on. She was stopped by Kaz's cane snatching them away. "This isn't a job, only if you want to look at it that way," he said carefully and it made Y/N suspicious.

"What did you do?"

"I? I did nothing. Your landlord, on the other hand, did more than what's understandable, even more so, hurting someone close to me, which I believe you don't tolerate either, therefore I set up a meeting with him," Kaz said and rested his hands on the top of his cane, looking at everywhere except her eyes. Y/N didn't miss the way he described their relationship. Someone close to me. Was she still dreaming? Or was this real life? Before she could ask him about that little detail, another thought formed in her mind.

"What meeting?" She asked but the way Kaz glanced at her for just a few seconds before putting his coat on to go on his way, told her more than his words could've. "Oh, a meeting, as in, torture,"

"Only if you want it to get to that point," Kaz said and Y/N was up on her feet right in front of him, and her subconscious got giddy at the fact that he didn't move away from her. "Why Kaz? You didn't have to bother with any of-"

"I did." He said suddenly, and his tone made Y/N go silent. "I do, because I wasn't careful enough to investigate this place like I did with the one before, because I trusted you enough to handle things, because I knew ypu would fight your way out of it. Then you told me you were assaulted, multiple times, multiple fucking times Y/N andyou never once told any of us. You never onced mentioned it, not to anyone, not to me." Kaz told her getting angry at himself for not making sure you were alright, because he was too absorved in his own thoughts, in his feelings for you, trying to punish himself for feeling the way he did. Meanwhile it got to a point where he forgot to protect you. He forgot. He never forgot to look after you. "You didn't ask my help."

"You had enough on your plate now that Pekka's out of the picture. You had business to run, I couldn't have just walk through your door saying my landlord is a greedy asshole who's attacking me at any inconvenience. You wouldn't have cared."

"I would!" Kaz said louder and Y/N looked at him in shock. She was about to speak when Kaz interrupted her. "I do. I do care. I care about your well-being enough, that I wouldn't care at which time of day or night you came for my help." He practically whispered the last few words and he could almost feel her lips against his, the memory suddenly blinding him. "Never be too stubborn to ask for my help. Just come to me."

Y/N could hardly breathe in that moment. All of the flashes from her dream, they weren't dreams at all. She really touched his face, and Kaz really kissed her. Now she remembered how his lips moved against hers as if he had been hungry all his life. And as Kaz looked at her with his pale blue eyes, she was reminded of the fact that he initiated the second kiss. Y/N wanted to know how he kissed, now that she was sober. If it felt addicting while she was drunk, she couldn't begin to imagine what it would feel like now that she's sober.

"I need your help Kaz," she whispered and Kaz's face turned serious at the mention of his name. "I'm afraid I don't remember much from last night." Y/N whispered as she slowly held her hand up next to his face, not wanting to be too quich with her movements, but Kaz gently grabbed her hand and put on the side of his face.

"And now?" Kaz asked raspily. Y/N felt like fainting, as she took a quick inhale. "Not familiar," she said and Kaz moved her other hand to the nape of his neck while he put a hand under her jaw, on her neck. "How about this?" He asked, the words a whisper against her lips. "Still not remembering," she moved her head just a little closer to him and heard Kaz quietly gasp for air, to which she let out a small smile.

"This, you remember," Kaz didn't waste time hugging her even closer to him, so he could finally kiss her again. Saints know he's been itching to do so.

Y/N let out a small gasp in the kiss and Kaz poured all of his years of yearning into their kiss.

Since that night the Barrel had something worse to fear from Dirtyhands: his love and devotion.

[muntitled]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐄𝐏. 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐦𝐚𝐧

❝ 𝘾𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙖 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙞𝙜𝙣? ❞

Pairings: Park Seonghwa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Being begrudgingly seduced by the anarchist

Warnings: Language, Enemies to Lovers, Cop!Reader, Revolutionary!Seonghwa, Implied Violence, Crazy Form!Au, Seduction, Smut (+18, minors dni) Corruption Kink, Innocence Kink, Masochism, Humping, Fingering, pet names, Rough Sex, Massive Degradation Kink, Dom!Seonghwa, Sub!Reader, Squirting, Humiliation, Unprotected Sex, Hate Sex

A/n: I might turn this into a series featuring all the Pirates with their own smutty little parts because I cannot help re-watching the Crazy Form mv. It's too good

The very sight of the undulating mosh pit has your stomach rolling with nausea as you enter the dimly lit warehouse. The corrugated walls are illuminated only by various splotches of neon paint, and you suddenly feel the uncanny need to pray as you enter the crowd.

You begin to grow fearful, not onky because this crowd might birth a fresh panic attack, but because you fear for your focus as well.

That you may not be swayed from your mission.

The Intel that led you and your police partner here had been incredibly difficult to come by because every one of their little followers were so terribly loyal.

So naturally, upon receiving a tip off about a show being hosted on the seedier outskirts of town, you had no choice but to attend.

In this unpredictable field of law enforcement, of one thing you are completely certain: There will always be a clear distinction between the good and the bad and they are as bad as they come.

They are common criminals, and there is nothing else to it.

In fact, referring to them as anything but, feels like a gross display of exaltation. Exaltation, which is, evidently, what they are used to.

Disgust is smeared across your face as you and your police partner sieve your way through drunken bodies swaying to the sound of Seonghwa's voice. Although you're shoving roughly past people, all in an attempt to get to the front of the stage, you can not help but marvel at the crowd, undulating to the beat of a bandit.

His face, along with the faces of 7 of his fellow delinquents were smeared across every wanted poster in the city, and yet here he is, raging into a microphone while the crowd cheers his name.

“If I hear ‘Seonghwa’ one more time I fear I might shoot myself in the foot,” you call out, to your partner not far behind, “Keep a tight grip on your weapons, please,” you say, craning your neck back as you palm cradles your back pocket with the Glock 14 nestled inside, “We don't know what any of these idiots are on and I dont think we want to find out.”

Your civilian attire is successful in keeping the attention off of you and your partner as you break out of the heat and anxiety of the moshpit, right in front of center stage.

Seonghwa is right above you, cradling a microphone as if it were the Holy grail while his accomplice, a very inebriated San, bounds across the stage, stirring up the crowd like Seonghwa's personal hypeman.

You could almost feel your vexation increasing to ungodly heights.

Everything about this egregious display of egomania makes your blood boil raging hot, and although these are only 2, you find your hands clenching in anticipation of being one step closer to putting all 8 behind bars.

Your hatred seems to be oozing out of your pores because soon, you catch his attention. Perched on a stage elevated amongst the masses, he is looking at you now. You. Instead of any of the other drunken groupies in the crowd begging to get even a sliver of attention.

With both hands cuffed around the mic, he peers down at you and winks before belting out the final words of the song.

How badly you itched to bind his wrists with your silver cuffs.

How badly you wished to get him and his insolent underlings off the streets.

"They do know how to capture an audience… we can at least give them that," Your head snaps sideways as the words of your partner rouses what little patience you're already working with.

You tap lightly at his badge. The sound of your nail hitting the metal is drowned out by the raucaus applaud but your police partner watches you intently as you cooly say, “Don't forget why we're here, Sergeant,” your voice holds caution as the noise of the crowd trickles down.

The set ends, and the man on stage drenched in flamboyant white linen bids the crowd a ‘Very good night’. He strolls off stage, not without giving you one last, knowing glance.

‘If you catch me, it's because I let you catch me,’ is what those eyes seem to be saying.

So much for blending into an unsuspecting crowd.

“These are not your friends. They're common criminals.” Your voice is louder now, with the absence of that Seonghwa's cacophony. “Stay here, make sure none of these degenerates kill themselves.” You're hellbent om following Seonghwa off the stage, but your partner's light snickers have you pausing slightly. You raise your eyebrows in questioning.

“You speak about them like they're not just fans," Your partner shakes his graying head, "Like they're complicit,”

“They are." You almost immediately reply with a narrowed gaze. "As far as I'm concerned, their fans are just as bad as them.”

With those parting words you make your way towards the part of the warehouse sectioned off from the rest of the crowd, where Seonghwa and his accomplice disappeared off to in the wake of their applause.

You reach what appears to be a backroom hidden behind the makeshift stage. It is far quieter than the rest of the warehouse pulsating with cacophony. You do not miss the slight apprehension that swallows you whole when your feet stop you from venturing over the threshold.

“It doesn't look like you have a backstage pass,” San sits beside Seonghwa on a couch positioned in the focal point of the small room. You recognize hid face as another one of the men whose visage was stamped in a very large police docket on your desk.

“Apologies,” you murmer to San, “I only have one of these,” you raise your police ID to the side of your face and San rises from his seat in mild curiosity. He sinks closer to you while Seonghwa, the man who held most of your attention, sits reclined, with his legs spread on the wide sectional.

He sits lazily, almost kingly under a giant white sheet. A flag plastered to the wall, with a giant, obnoxious, A carelessly spray painted in black.

“I thought we said no fans allowed backstage." San says in a sing-song voice, blatantly ignoring your badge with his giant shoulders now bending down to your height. The circumference of his hat casts a wide shadow over you, all in a clear display of intimidation. "That counts for pigs, too.”

His steely gaze never wavers from your face, and you fight valiantly to keep your emotions tamed under a calm, nonchalant reserve. "If you're a cop, where's your uniform?" San does an obnoxious display of racking his eyes over your body.

"Your dad's place," you whisper cooly, "I couldn't put it on in time."

Your words have an unmistakable smile cracking on the sides of San's face. "I enjoyed that very much."

"I thought a degenerate like you might." Despite your words, San is still smiling. In fact, you fear yourself at risk of slipping right into that enchanting gaze of his were it not for the interception of the third voice in the room.

“How interesting,” Seonghwa's voice cuts through the tension blistering between you and San like a white, hot knife.

“Leave us.” San's head snaps backward towards his accomplice, and all Seonghwa does is smile as they communicate, quite literally without words right in front of you. Seonghwa evidently 'says' what is needed in order to get San slyly leaving room. Not before tipping his hat in parting.

With your attention now focused solely on the man ok the couch, drenched in the white linen, whose arms are outstretched and resting on the headrest, you suddenly find yourself completely and unfortunately unsure.

You had met plenty of prisoners. Dined with manner delinquents and questioned many criminals, it is only in his presence when you feel your usually tough reserve quaking at the smallest fraction. In the face of what is apparently true rebellion.

“Why don't you have a seat,” he snickers when he finds you already stepping over the threshold, making yourself all too comfortable in an evil space. Nothing good existed beyond this point.

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” There is a depth to his voice that is regrettably tickling down the edge of your spine, dousing every bit of pateince you had.

“You call it a show… I call it inciting a riot,” you shrug, finally choosing to sit beside him on the wide sectional. Far too close beside him and his outstretched arms.

Despite the warning bells, you refuse to exhibit any fear.

“Is that why you're here?” His voice remains steady as he focuses it on tracing the tips of his fingers against your shoulder. He wants to see how quickly his touch could elicit a valley of goosebumps.

He is all too pleased to find you shivering in protest.

“You're here to arrest me?” In all honesty, Seonghwa enjoyed watching you try to push him away for the sake of your precious morals. Call it masochism, but there is something enticing about a woman who so very clearly abhors everything he stands for. Seonghwa cannot help but find it almost irresistible. His captain always remarked on Seonghwa's enjoyment for not only fixing broken things but also obsessing over them.

You did not know that the frown plastered across your face only accelerated his racing heart more. Desire plunged through his arteries as he immediately recognized you as a challenge.

Something to perhaps break.

It would be so incredibly satisfying, especially because you represented everything he despised in this wretched world.

Order.

“Actually, no.” You say, staving off another shivsr as you evade Seonghwa’s steadily heavy growing eyelids. “We received a call that someone was disturbing the peace.”

“In an abandoned warehouse?” He asks, voice airy and tone almost dismissive because he is much closer to you now, leaning towards you, as if enchanted by your very scent. You watch him with apprehension as you begin to feel the very first signs of what you regrettably realize to be attraction.

However, you can not move off the couch now because you can not control any of your motor functions in your concrete bones. Every one of your morals howl for you to get away from this man. To cuff him, send him down to the precinct and convict him for... something…

but that 'something' does not come quick enough, and he's leaning closer to you, with both arms still resting on the couch behind you. Before you can blow up your entire career, and close the distance, you wrangle some bit of sense to turn your head sideways, evading his half lidded eyes and slightly parted lips.

Your blatant rejection rouses him slightly, and he readjusts himself in his seat. Seonghwa brings his legs together to better manage the heat rushing to his cock in the wake of your rejection and apparent attraction (and immense frustration) as he shifts even closer beside you.

“You will find no disturbance here,” he says, “Only music.”

His words release the floodgates of your vexation, and your head snaps as you fire off. “Music that you weaponize to spew your delinquency.”

“Ah. Ah.” Seonghwa dips his head down to your ear as he whispers, “Delinquency, or rebellion?”

You're laughing humorlessly into the air, effectively causing Seonghwa’s smile to widen and his cock to stiffen completely in the confies of his pitch black dress pants. You are oblivious to his eyes, watching you as if you hung the very moon.

“You and your… freaks preach your vitriol and call it ‘rebellion’ when all you're actually doing is polluting our city with riots and crime.”

“You don't wish to be liberated from an oppressive world order?” He adjusts himself again, getting far too excited with the way this conversation is flowing. Your wide eyes and high vibrato do little to calm his restlessness.

“What oppression!?”

His voice is quick and monotonous, “Capitalism. Classism. Racism.” His fingers clench and unclench before swiping against the back of your neck, “Why do you willingly submit to a system that is simply un-winnable? We want you to free yourselves from the hierarchy. Fucking wreck the system-”

“You're fucking Pirates,” you spit the word out, unwokowungly snapping the very last of your reserve before Seonghwa is pulling you into a heady, heavy kiss by the nape of your neck.

"Fuck yes," He whispers before pulling you in as if you weighed absolutely nothing and you let him. You let his lips move languidly against yours as your hands fall against his chains and the white linen frills spilling from his collar. His hand is still positioned on the nape of your neck and he squeezes, forcing you to kiss him back. He groans into your mouth when you begin to work with him instead of against him. You mouth falling open as his tongue collides with yours.

Vaguely, in the background, outside these four walls, you can hear the crowd beginning to cheer once again as raucous music spills from unseen speakers. You can hear San beginning to sing into a mic, and your hand on Seonghwa's shirt curls imperceptibly.

“You're so beautiful…” You hate how easily his words affect you. You hate what a slave to desire you seem to be as he leans back to immediately push his hands in between your legs.

“Tell me to stop,” he challenges, keeping his feline eyes trained on you as he unclips the buttons of your jeans with one hand. “Tell me you don't want this disgusting delinquent to make you cum over and over again.”

Your lips are pursed painfully, and you throw your head back with your eyes clenched shut as you lift your hips. All the better for him to wriggle your jeans down to your ankles.

As he brings your legs up to his lap to pull off your jeans completely, Seonghwa's movements become all the more reckless and all the more urgent.

“All the same,” he murmurs before kneeling on the floor in front of you, “You conformists are all the fucking same.” Your eyes flutter open, along with your mouth, and the very moment your gaze locks onto the spray painted flag, hanging above you, Seongwha pushes aside your underwear, immediately spearing your dripping cunt with his long fingers. You release a broken moan into the air and his smile has blossomed into a full-on lopsided, evil grin as he brings your knees up to frame his face.

“2 seconds,” he taunts, in between your chorus of broken moans going head-to-head with the sound of San’s sensational belting, “it took me 2 seconds to have you humping my hand like a pretty fucking slut-”

Despite the pleasure coursing through your body, you still manage to keep your teeth clenched as you murmur, “You're the one… fuck… you're the one kneeling in front of me like my personal whore-”

Seonghwa's eyebrows raise, and his eyes glint in excitement at your taunting. He prided himself on being someone who could take as much as he gave out, and you're doing a terrific job at holding his attention when so many other people fell short.

You were interesting, of that, Seonghwa was sure.

“You make me want you so bad, Dove,” he admits before swiping his other hand over his stiffening bulge to the rhythm of his hand pushing in and out of your cunt.

“You drive me fucking crazy-”

“You're already crazy- fuck, just like that! Please don't stop-” your clenching around his fingers, eyes locked on his wide, excited eyes and his close lipped smile as brings his other hand to swipe over your clit.

The very second his calluses make contact with your swollen, puffy clit, you're cumming around his fingers. San’s vocal rages and your screams pour out as you fight to keep your eyes open. Seonghwa's fingers are still pushing into you relentlessly, and your heart sinks when you realise the seat underneath you is drenched with your arousal.

Seonghwa's mind is flooded with the image of you squirting so shamelessly around his fingers. Seeing you give yourself over to him so seamlessly made him feel absolutely restless with arousal, and he's pushing you down onto the couch before you're able to fill the air with idle protests.

His clothes suddenly feel too constricting and he curses the black corset as he wrestles with the buttons of his collar. He does not care that the buttons are flying onto the floor because he is clambouring onto the couch and hovering over you as he slots his hips in between your open legs.

“I need you to make a mess for me,” he whispers, before pulling his collar open, showcasing a patch of his tanned chest to your wide eyes. You unbuttoned your own shirt at the very same time that Seonghwa pulls down the zip of his pants, and he nearly whines at the sight of your breasts spilling out of your top. You are using him just as much as he is using you.

“Just like that, baby,” He nods, forcing his cock deep inside you as you begin to tweak your own nipples to stave off the discomfort of being stretched open so completely.

“F-Fuck- Seonghwa…” He is still nodding as he bends down towards you. Strands of his black hair tickle your face as he positions his hands on the side of your head and ruts into you with urgency. “I don't think I can take it-”

“You're already taking it so well, Baby.” He coos, as he forces his cock deeper and deeper into your clenching walls.

“You're taking everything I have to give and you're doing it flawlessly,” his praises are like that fashioned from a poet and the sheer artistry behind mere words have your head flying backwards as you release a torrid moan into the air.

“Where are you going?” He asks with a breathless laugh as he brings your head back by the grip of your throat. He is driving his cock inside you, his own frills spilling over your skin as he chokes you relentlessly.

Seonghwa is the very sight of violent beauty: hair mussed with his collar completely undone. His corset is still fashioned around his waist but it succeeds in tightening his abdomen, bringing him closer to the edge as the torrid sounds of your fucking fills the air.

"Fuck I'm close,” He grunts with his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his skull. "Tell me you hate me-" he whispers.

"I hate you," you moan out. "I hate you so fucking much-" It fell from your lips so easily because it is the God honest truth. Despite the spell he currently has you under, in the eyes of your aspirations, and everything you've ever worked hard for, you hated him and people like him. People who threatened to dismantle the progress lawmakers have strived to protect. And so, with your orgasm crwsting and your toes clenching, you whisper those words over and over to him. And every time to tell him you hate him, he chokes you harder and fucks you deeper.

"F-Fuck- 'Hwa I'm-" he nods, eyes now incredibly pained as he drives his cock into you with no chance of stopping.

"Cum for me," His whisper has you reading a broken moan into the air and Seonghwa watches as you descend into the depths of your euphoria.

"Gorgeous-" He exclaims through clenched teeth as his own hips begin to stutter, "You're so fucking gorgeous-" He whimpers before spilling inside you.

You're both moaning into the air, at the very same time that Choi San appears at the threshold.

"You work fast," San says languidly. He shifts his gaze from your horror-stricken gaze to Seonghwa who stares at his accomplice with a smirk on his face.

"I work smarter," Seonghwa says, "not harder." You're very much aware that he is still very much inside of you in front of a complete stranger but that panic dissipates when you realize Seonghwa, himself, is nothing but a stranger...

"The police is not gonna be a problem for us anymore, right?" He asks sweetly before dipping his head down in between the crook of your neck. You are starkly aware that your silence is answer enough...

[morlao]

Sisterly advice

▪︎Luke Castellan x fem!reader

▪︎daughter of Aphrodite

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You and Luke have always been close. So close, in fact, that newcomers automatically assumed that you were dating. The surprised look on their faces when the older campers told them you weren´t, was according to your siblings hilarious.

It's evening and you're sitting on your bed, your legs crossed, while Silena is braiding your hair.

Of all your half-siblings she is your favourite one. Loving, gentle and kind. She is the perfect definition of a daughter of Aphrodite, as she embodies everything that comes to your mind when you think about love - and you want others to feel the same way. They should also think of her and not your other siblings with their childish plays and cruel rituals of breaking others hearts. Maybe they themselves don´t understand what it means being the child of love.

Silena´s fingers run gently through your hair, parting it and intertwining the individual strands together.

“So… what about Charlie?”

You don't have to see her face to know that a smile flashes across her lips at his name. “What about him?”

“Did he finally ask you out?”

She laughs, trying to pretend that she finds the idea absurd. “We are just friends.”

You turn around and give her a look that expresses your opinion about it all too clearly. Don´t try to fool me, darling. I see what´s going on between the two of you!

Again, Silena laughs, gently turning your head forward again to finish the braid. “Okay, other topic. What about you and Luke?”

You copy her laugh. “What about us? We´re just friends.”

You could feel her rising her eyebrows. “Let me give you some sisterly advice: Just friends don´t look at each other like that.”

“Who did you quote? That sentence is so cliché!”

She laughs, taking a hair tie from your bedside table and wrapping it around your braid. “Well… maybe it is but it totally fits you and Luke.”

You turn around, giving her a skeptical look.

Silena shrugs and sits down beside you. “I mean… have you seen his smile when he looks at you? Also he constantly finds excuses to touch you. He improves your posture in archery, even though you are at least as good at it as he is. And – “ she looks at you triumphantly, “He gives you a kiss on the cheek every time he greets you or says goodbye.”

You feel your cheeks flush and cross your arms, trying to think of a counter argument. “A lot of people do that.”

“Yeah, but you´re the only one where Luke does that. Haven´t you noticed?”

To be honest: no, you haven´t. But now as you think about it in detail... it is true. When Luke greets one of the other girls, he just smiles at them.

“In addition, he immediately drops everything when he sees you”, Silena adds, “Yesterday he left in the middle of training because he saw you walking by and wanted to talk to you. Or on Friday, he was in the middle of a conversation with Chris and you waved at him. And what did he do? Exactly, he immediately jogged over. Also last week…”

“Enough!” You laugh, trying to make her shut up by covering her mouth.

Silena dodges you, laughing as you reach into the void. "He let you draw hearts on his sneakers! He watches the sunset with you! He bought you a bracelet for your birthday! You know, I could go on with this for hours." She steps closer, cupping your cheeks with her hands. “Believe me, sis: He´s in love with you!” Her voice is melodic, angel like even. Loving, gentle and kind.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks and embarrassed you pulls away and cover your face with your hands. “I´m pretty sure he isn´t! You´re overinterpreting!”

“Nope, I´m a daughter of Aphrodite, I can feel it!”

“So am I! And I don't feel anything!”

Silena grabs her cherry lipstick. “Your reaction makes me think that you like him too!”

Did you like him? You weren´t sure. Of course he meant the world to you, but did you like him more as than a friend? Wouldn´t that be weird kissing him since you know him for so long?

"I'm not sure", you finally manage to say, rolling off your bed and taking a look at the clock. Fortunately, you can at least put the topic off for today. "Oh, damn! Come on, we are already late!”

Silena grabs your hand and leads you outside of cabin 10. It´s already dark and in the distance you can see the flickering flames of the campfire. Most of the campers seem to have already gathered there, their drink in their hands and a smile on their lips as they talk to their siblings and friends.

“Finally!”, one of the Apollo girls greets you.

Chris Rodriguez grins. “Why are the Aphrodite girls always late?”

That is definitely not true! You're not always late. Just most of the times. God, you hate being a cliché.

Luke lifts his head as he hears his brother say “Aphrodite girls”. He spots you and his face lights up like a Christmas tree. Immediately he walks up to you and hugs you, his lips placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

From the corner of your eye you can see Silena rising an eyebrow, as if to say "Well, what did I say?"

“You look amazing”, Luke whispers in your ear, before breaking away from the hug and greeting Silena with a smile. “Charlie is already waiting for you!”, he grins, nodding towards said boy.

Silena giggles, before walking over to him. Gods, it was so obvious that she was head over heels for him.

Luke takes your hand and leads you over to his place next to Chris, where he had already a blanket spread out for the two of you. “Mylady” He pretends to bow.

You can feel your cheeks blush as you sit down. “Thank you so much, Mister!”

Gods, somehow Luke always manages to put a smile on your face. You sit down and stretch out your legs, feeling the comforting heat of the fire.

As Luke takes a seat next to you, you can feel him slide closer, his arm touching yours. Feeling him beside you was comforting, the closest feeling you had to "home".

Luke Castellan. You tilt your head back and look up at the stars as if you expect to see his name engraved up there. You have always liked his name. Luke Castellan. It feels like a secret incantation on your lips.

You can feel his eyes on you. The flickering flames make his face look almost golden. Golden boy. Why didn´t you notice before how handsome he is?

The next song starts and immediately everyone joins in. They lie in each other's arms and rock back and forth, bawling Country roads.

Well, maybe it was just because Silena had told you, but Luke really seems to find exuses for touching you. He leans against you, his arm around your shoulders - even after the song has already ended. You enjoy feeling him so close next to you. The heat he radiates. His soft skin against yours. The realization hits you straight in the face. You had fallen in love with your best friend.

He looks at you and you can't help but smile. Fascinating how beautiful an evening with a campfire could be. For a moment it feels like gods and monsters didn't exist. For a moment everything seems peaceful.

 “Can I talk to you for a second?” You can feel Luke´s warm breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

Your heart skips a beat. Did he notice the way you looked at him? Did he suspect something? Was Silena wrong? “Sure!”

Your voice sounds more enthusiastic than you feel.

Luke takes your hand and leads you away from the campfire, away from the singing and the laughter of the others.

You look at him, smiling nervously. “Sooo… what is it? Or did you just want to escape singing Knocking on heavens door.”

He shakes his head, laughing. “No, why would I want to miss Drew´s wonderful voice?”

You cringe at the thought of your sister singing louder than everyone else – and on top of that terribly wrong. She doesn't hit a single note.

“No, actually… Y/N…” He runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. “Gods, you´re so beautiful.”

It´s not the first time that somebody told you that. In fact, being a daughter of Aphrodite, you had heard it thousands of times already.

Still his words felt special to you. Special because he wasn´t just anybody. Ä

He was Luke. Your best friend Luke. Luke who was always there for you, who comforted you when you had trouble with your family, who managed to make you laugh when you lay in your bed crying your eyes out over something your stepmother had said. Luke who you trusted with all your heart.

“I wanted to ask you if you'd like to go on a picnic tomorrow?” He avoids looking at you.

Why is he so shy about going on a picnic? That's quite strange since you´d done this a few times before. You had even found your very own spot with a fantastic view over the sea. There was nothing more beautiful than watching sunsets while drinking juice and eating biscuits. So why does he seem so insecure?

Luke seems to notice your confusion. “I meant as a date”, he clarifies.

You raise your eyebrow, your heart racing. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah.”

For a moment you stood there, perplexed. Why was it so obvious to the others while you had no idea?

"So... what do you say?" Luke looks at you, biting his lip nervously. He seems to assume that you aren't answering because you're looking for a way to reject him as gently as possible.

Quickly you step forward, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Yes, I'd love to go on a date with you."

"Really?" Immediately he blushes deeply. That must have slipped out.

"Sure, why wouldn't I?" You giggle, taking his hand. "I've known you for years now. You're kind and brave and one of the most caring people I know."

A laugh escapes his lips. "Wow, if I had known that, I would have asked you way earlier." His hand slowly reaches for your cheek.

You hold your breath as he leans forward and places a soft kiss on your lips. It didn't feel weird at all. The opposite, actually. Seems like sometimes best friends can turn into lovers.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Soft kisses become more passionate. His hands run through your hair, slowly brushing loose strands out of your face.

When he pulls away a huge smile creeps across his lips. "I love you, Y/N"

You return his smile, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I love you, too."

As you walk back to the campfire holding hands, Silena beams at you. "I told you, Y/N, friends don't look at each other like that."

You shake your head, laughing. "Your advice really is the best."

[rr311]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ! ❞ － 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒. 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐞

⇨⚠︎︎ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 !¡⚠︎︎⇦ threesome, reverse cow girl, fingering, roommates au, whore calling , oral (male r.), choking, teasing, vibrator, dom!geto, dom!gojo, bottom!reader, black!reader

𝐀𝐍. happy halloween my spooky ghosts 👻 (let’s pretend this was posted on halloween) just wanted ti say thank you to the people who read and enjoyed some of the kinktober stories even If they weren’t written to my fullest I still appreciate you guys :). I would also like to apologize AGAIN for missing some of the stories I said I was going to write, for the Choso request I still have to work on It and whoever requested I’m soooo sorry for delay (ಡ‸ಡ). But after this I will work on It!

－ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐀 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫.

It was an ordinary in the apartment. Quiet, Sun shining into the big living room you were sitting in, underneath a warm blanket as you watched your show. As long as those two knuckle heads were out of the house you had it allll to yourself. For the afternoon at least— but hey. Better than nothing, you sinked more into the couches cushion continuing to dive deeper into your tv program.

6:30pm

It’s been three hours since you’ve been alone for the day, still deep into your program that played. You were so into it you had forgotten to re fill the cat food for your cat, when the soft brown furred creature jumped on the couch practically marching her way towards your chest meowing as loud as she could trying to gain your attention. When you felt her paws start to paw on your chest trying to catch your attention you sighed, glancing down with a raised a brow. “What is it?.” You asked a bit annoyed taking your attention off your show, she meowed jumping off your chest, you sighed lifting the blankets off your body, getting off the couch walking towards where she was leading you. When she stopped in front of her food bowl pawing at it you quickly realized.

I forgot to refill the food bowl!?

In an instant you ran towards to the pantry where you kept her food and treats grabbing the wet food from the top shelf, walking back to grab her food bowl placing it on the counter as she followed you. she jumped ontop of it sitting down, watching you. You put down the wet food onto the counter, going to the fridge to grab some blueberries. “I’m so sorry pretty girl— mama was too caught up in her show.” You pampered as you petted behind her ears feeling her head lean against your hand meowing making you smile, “I’ll take that as you forgive me then?.” You said before booping her tiny black nose going back to fixing her food, when you were fixing her food you heard your phone buzz next to you but you ignored it thinking it was another text from your friend.

but..

When you were done making her food, bending down to set it down you heard a snicker. “Nice ass y/n.” Oh no. You almost stumbled to the ground trying to pick yourself back up standing up straight to spot the duo looking at you, suguru was flushed looking away as satoru bit his lip, your eyes widen remembering you were only wearing your underwear and a white tank top. You were quick to grab the blanket off the couch covering up your body as you glared at them, “Stop staring! You weren’t supposed to be home till 8.” You snarled watching as Gojo’s face turned into a pout as you covered yourself, “They let us go early since we were done with our work.” Said Suguru who shrugged his shoulders still avoiding eye contact with you, “Yeah, what he said. But If I known you roam the house practically naked everyday..maybe I should stay home more often.” Satoru smirked walking a little closer to you as you stepped back, Suguru sighed shaking his head. “Satoru, careful where you step.” He said as Satoru only chuckled. “Or what? Not like she can do anything.” He grinned as you rolled your eyes tightening your grip on the blanket, again Suguru sighed, “Not her i’m talking about-“

He got interrupted when he heard a loud hiss and a man child by his side gripping his arm standing behind him. “her.” He sighed. You grinned looking down at (C/N) who rubbed along your leg meowing sweetly like nothing happened, “Aww such a good girl.” You cooed leaning down to grab your cat into your arms feeling her nuzzle her head with yours as you walked away towards your room, Satoru glared at the cat as he gripped harder on Sugurus arms, who sighed. “Till this day I don’t understand why that damn cat hates me.” He said. “Maybe because you always harass her owner. Now let go of me.” Suguru said snatching his arm away from him hearing Satoru pout, “Suguruuuu! Dont hate me too!” he groaned rolling his eyes making his way towards the kitchen. “Satoru, maybe you should lower it down one day, hm? She’s gonna end up slapping you for being a perv you know.” He said going into the fridge to grab a drink hearing Satoru grunt, rolling his eyes “You’re no better than me.” He mumbled, “you practically have thoughts of fucking her--“ “Satoru!” He interrupted slamming down his cup on accident, when he realized what he did he cleared his throat with a pinkish blush. “Keep that between me and you.” He muttered looking at him who looked back with a smirk, “Oh come on Suguru. One day you gotta let go of that innocent act~ Besidesss we already agreed on the plan tonight.”

He huffed, “I forgot about that..” He mumbled with a sigh, “Do you think she’ll even agree to it?.” He questioned watching Satoru snicker, “I know she will. Have you seen how competitive she is? She’ll agree to it.” He chuckled getting off the counter, “Besides we’re going out tonight, we might as well test her luck.” He grinned walking towards your door with a huffy Suguru following behind, Satoru knocked on your door nonstop till you got fed up swinging the door open with a glare on your face. “What!?” He looked down to see you wearing pants and a hoodie covering the tank top and white panties you had on. He pouted jokingly, “Aww why’d you change?.” You scoffed crossing your arms in response leaning against the door, “What the hell do you want gojo.” You questioned, Satoru grinned. “We have a little game we wanna play with you.”

You raised a brow, “What game?.” curiosity lingered, watching as Gojo pulled out a pair of panties. You stared at the dangling thin undies in confusion till it clicked, making your eyes go wide looking between them both. “Since me and Suguru are going out...and if you accept the game. You’ll have to wear these the whole night with me or him controlling it.” The thought of either of em controlling your orgasms made your stomach twist in a knot, you cleared your throat continuing to stare at the dangling things then back up at him, squinting your eyes. “Before I play your stupid game.” You trailed glaring at him, “there any rules?”. You huffed crossing your arms over your chest watching as Suguru and Satoru looked at each other. suguru surprised you agreed, satoru who turned back around with a smirk, “you can’t relive yourself, meaning no sneaking off to anywhere. If you do, you lose.” Your eyes furrow, “what if I do?” you raised a brow, “If we win, we get to fuck you.” your nails dug into your arm, clearing your throat shifting, “and what if I win?.”

“you decide.” Suguru said with a look..making eye contact with him instantly taking your eyes away from him feeling your legs shake. That look he had did something to you. joe’s eyes staring at you with practically lust circling around them …looked like a predator hunting its pray. You looked between the undies and them making a decision…in an instant you were quick to snatch the thing out of Satoru’s hand, slamming your door close going straight to your closet to find a dress. this might be your biggest mistake.

-

-

-

Why am I so nervous?. I shouldn’t be nervous right?..But I can’t help but to..they’ve been eyeing me ever since we got here..you thought chugging the rest of your drink letting your eyes flicker between them as they kept a good eye on you, like they were hunting. Your legs shifted a little as you looked away back to the bar to keep your attention away from them, wondering what tricks they have up their sleeves. You pulled your hand up indicating another drink, the bartender walked towards you with a small grin, “What can I get you?.” He asked almost In a flirty tone but shaking It off you pushed your glass forward, “Gimmie the strongest drink you got.” You said back making eye contact with him as he nodded his head giving you a small wink. You didn’t think much of It just looking around the club waiting for your drink till suddenly you felt a vibration run through you making you jolt forward with a small gasp. Your nails gripped on the counter as you looked up to see Gojo smirking with his hand in his pocket with Geto staring at you as he sipped his drink.

You glared towards the white haired bastard but that only added more fuel to the fire feeling the vibration increase making your eyes go wide, whining a little. When the bartender came back with your drink he raised a brow setting down your glass, “are you okay?.” He asked and you slowly nodded your head, “Y-Yes! Just fine!.” You answered with a slight high pitched voice biting back the obvious moans that tried to escape, the bartender looked at you with concern but shrugged it off sliding your drink over and going back to working. Your teeth gritted together as you stared at Satoru watching as his smirk grew at your reaction, fuck. The vibrations that were shooting through you felt so damn good..It was hitting your clit in the right place in the right spot, shit…you felt like you were gonna cum feeling that familiar knot in your stomach. Without thinking you slightly jolted your hips forward practically grinding against the toy to let yourself cum. moaning so quietly but was instantly denied feeling the toy stop. You clenched the counter much tighter due to loss of pleasure but you sucked it up sighing deeply trying to not get too frustrated at the fact you’ve lost your orgasm. You weren’t gonna let them win. You cleared your throat straighten your posture putting a smile on your face as you chugged down the glass, slamming it back onto the counter before standing up from your seat.

-

-

-

It’s been a good two hours since this little game started and honestly..It’s been hell! Every fifteen minutes they would take turns turning the dam toy on an off! The second time you were on the dance floor, enjoying yourself till all of sudden you felt waves of vibrations hit your clit making you almost fall to the ground by your legs shaking from the shock, the third time you thought you were gonna finally cum…it turned off the last minute making you accidentally get mad at the person that was talking to you…you were reaching your limit. You haven’t came in the last two and a half hours..you were getting frustrated and impatient, with out second thought you got up from the table you were sitting at rushing towards a bathroom to please yourself. You were getting sick of it! You needed to cum..so bad. before you could even reach the handle to the bathroom you felt hands on your hips pulling you away from It. You lost the game. Satoru chuckled in your ear rubbing his hands up and down your hips, “You lost doll..”

-

-

The moment you guys got into the door lips were all over you. Satoru had your lips trapped with his as Suguru was standing behind you kissing your neck leaving his marks on your skin. You whined Into Satoru’s mouth as you felt his hands forcefully move your head to side to give Suguru more space to kiss and suck against your neck. Suguru let his hands linger around your body as you kept backing up into him slowly feeling him get hard against you. He groaned against your neck, bucking his hips against yours feeling pleasure waves run through his body, he hummed continuously roaming his hands around your body letting them lift your dress up to expose the black thong you were wearing. You shivered from the cold air hitting your exposed thighs, shuttering from his warm hands messaging and gripping them, Satoru chuckled in your mouth hearing your small little moans be stuffed away, pulling away to kiss along your jawline. Your pussy was aching for release, It has been for the past hours! You were already panting like a dog as pleasure was happening from each part of your body, neck, jawline, thighs, ass…you needed to be fucked.

Now.

You hummed, “Bed..now.” You asked breathless hearing them both chuckle. Without any questions Suguru backed off as Satoru picked you to carry you to his bed with Suguru walking behind, when Satoru walked into his room he dropped you on his bed going back to kissing you, rough. You moaned Into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck kissing him back, Suguru walked towards your body gliding his hands along your exposed thighs letting them sneak there way up to your panties placing a finger ontop of your pussy feeling you flinch. He scoffed, “You’re so wet.” He mumbled as Satoru chuckled pulling away from your lips going towards your jawline, “You frustrated baby?.” Satoru said smirking against your jaw, gripping your tits into his hands, you couldn’t help but groan struggling to get a word out from all this pleasure happening at once. You whined loudly arching your back as you felt Suguru slide the panties to the side, easily pushing a finger inside you, “Shit..Wait Sug- Mmh!?.” You couldn’t finish your sentence when you felt two fingers entered your mouth, your eyes widened looking to see Satoru already looking at you with a lustful gaze. “Suck.” Is what he said. Without much arguing you obeyed starting to suck a long his fingers, he chuckled. “Good girl..” He whispered with a small smirk watching you suck his fingers like It was his cock..damn. He can just imagine his fingers being his cock instead, feeling his dick twitch in his pants. The gags and moans that were leaving your mouth was making this difficult, Suguru without warning entered another finger picking up his pace. Thrusting in and out of you.

You jerked forward feeling Satoru’s warm hands slide down your stomach to your exposed pussy using his middle finger to rub against your clit as Suguru thrusted Into you. Your eyes snapped wide only for them to roll back feeling everything hit you at once, “W-Wait-!.” You begged but they didn’t listen, Suguru sped up his pace as Satoru did the same feeling you twitch underneath them. You were bout to cum, that familiar knot that you’ve been feeling all night came back, you moaned and whined grinding against their hands chasing your orgasm. You wanted to cum, you needed to cum. You kept doing it uncontrollably feeling yourself about to spill against their hands, your hands clenched around Satoru’s back feeling yourself cum, Suguru smirked as Satoru continued to rub against your clit at a slow pace letting you ride out your orgasm. suguru pulled his fingers out seeing your sticky substances on his fingers with a small smirk, Satoru chuckled looking down at the mess you made all over the bed and your thighs, “You made such a mess baby.” He smiled getting off from your body to lift you up now In a new position, your eyes furrowed. “Wha-? Ah!” You got caught off guard when you felt something big push past your folds, you looked behind your shoulder to see Suguru already looking at you with lust lingering in his eyes and a soft groan escaping his mouth as he felt you tightened around him.

How did he get his pants off that fast?!

You didn’t have enough time to question yourself when you felt Suguru grip your hips leaning his head close to your ear, “Move.” He mumbled sending shivers down your spine, without arguing you nodded your head with a small whine beginning to move. Up and down at a slow pace to get adjusted against him, he groaned lowly leaning down to peck your back as Satoru stood in front of you. You looked up at him with low lidded eyes confused of what he wanted you to do, he only grinned trailing his hand to your wrist to place your hand on his growing bulge, your eyes widened. He didn’t want you to..while you were!…you gulped down that lump that was growing only for you to hiss feeling Suguru’s hands dig into your hips helping you move on top of him. There was no way you could take him in your mouth while you were getting fucked from behind, “Satoru I don’t think I can do It..” You whispered moaning from Suguru pushing your hips down against his shaft making you dig your nails into his knee focusing on the pleasure you were receiving from behind.

Hearing you couldn’t do it made him scoff, clenching his hand around your hair making you come closer to his bulge. You whined feeling him tug you forward being face to face with dick, “all that cocky shit you were saying before…look at you now. I’m sure you can take me into your mouth while you get fucked but you just don’t wanna do it huh?” He questioned tilting your head up with a raised brow, he saw how bad you were fighting against him and Suguru abusing your pussy over and over again. Your eyes fluttered feeling him push you down more against his dick, deep fucking you. Satoru saw your eyes flicker from his to the ground struggling to keep eye contact with him, he hummed using his other hand to unbuckle his belt, pulling off his pants and boxers along with it letting them drop on the floor taking his dick into his hands. Your eyes widened for the fifth time tonight seeing how big he was..that couldn’t fit in your mouth! You could barely handle Suguru right now..

Satoru stroked himself a little before tugging you forward, lips touching the tip. You looked up with begging eyes to let Suguru finish before you start with him but Satoru’s wasn’t having It. he gave a low lidded smile, rubbing his top against your lips. “You wanna be a whore right? This Is what whores do baby..” He grinned, “Now..open for me yeah?” he sucked in a breath, groaning loudly feeling your mouth opening to take him inside. he threw his head back feeling how warm and a wet your tongue was perfectly sucking him, “Jus like that.” He chuckled, hands gripping more into your hair slightly moving your head, you moaned digging your nails deeper into Suguru’s knee feeling him pick up the pace behind you. You were becoming a moaning mess, you were getting fucked from behind while sucking off your roommate, this was too much.. your eyes watered as soon a tear fell down your cheek from pleasure focusing on pleasuring the man In front of you as the man behind you fucked you nice and deep.

Suguru bit your shoulder biting back his moans feeling his knot start to form, “Im finna cum.” He groaned, you hummed against Satoru’s dick sending vibrations throughout his body hearing a small deep moan, “Fuck..” You slightly smirked a little moving your hips up and down his dick moaning from how big he Is, Suguru eyes fluttered close letting you do your thing as he held your body close to his. The moans you were letting out kept sending vibrations through Satoru’s body leading him to his own knot forming, you kept moving on top of Suguru as you kept sucking Satoru. They were both about to cum inside you. Without warning Suguru bit hard against your shoulder feeling him shoot his load Inside you making you jolt forward moaning loudly against Satoru only to feel his cum shoot into your mouth. You went to pull back from him but he only kept you there against his dick till he was finished cumming inside your mouth, “Take It.” He growled looking down seeing how much of a mess they made out of you,

When It felt like they were done Suguru lifted you up from his dick by your hips as Satoru let go of your hair letting you pull back from him with heavy pants and some cum still on your lips. Satoru chuckled leaning down to take your lips into his tasting himself In your mouth, the kiss was soft and gentle than before leaning more Into it, before you could even slide your tongue into his mouth a hand gripped your throat pulling you back from him, leaning your head against Suguru’s chest as he tilted your head to take your lips with his. Suguru’s lips were more softer than satoru, Satoru only smirked shaking his head as he went to grab a towel for the three of you, after a few more seconds Suguru pulled back, using his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth with a grin. “did you like it?.” He asked, feeling his hand rub along your waist as a comfort method, leaning more into his chest feeling yourself about to fall asleep, nodding your head “Mhm..”

“I loved it.”

[frogchiro]

Aww and wouldn't it be a shame if one morning old ms marjorie suddenly found one of the basement steps has mysteriously come loose and she takes a nasty tumble. Nothing too serious of course, but at her age even just a crack in the pelvis can mean weeks in a hospital bed. Poor dear, what an awful accident 😏.

NOW suddenly slasher!graves is offering to stay in a spare room "just to help out round the farm of course. Cant have a pretty lil thing like you trying to run that place all alone now can we?" And he's just so gentlemanly about it but also commanding enough that of course he gets his way >:)

And it's so strange.....reader SWEARS she hears him moving around the house at night, leaving at god-knows-when under the cloak of darkness....falling back into a listless slumber only to be re-awoken by what can only be him returning from his secret trips....the smell of copper clings to the walls like a sickening yellow wallpaper but she cant tell where it comes from. Reader thinks she sees flecks of red on the hardwood the next morning but a few hours later......they're gone. She thinks about saying something to graves but when she approaches him he smiles this wolfish grin, leans his arm against a wall with a "What's on your mind sweetheart?" And she finds herself faltering, asking instead if he was able to mend the fence out in the back of the property (where it backs into the woods....) and of COURSE he's mended the fence for her. And rounded up the animals for the evening so she don't worry her pretty little head!

When the next night comes, she hears the creaking of the stairs, feels a zing of fear run up her spine, but suddenly remembers graves is here, he'll keep her safe, he'd never let anything bad get to her here....😌😌😌

(Sorry for the essay lmao but slasher fics get me excited!)

The thing is, as much as Graves would love to end old Marjorie's life he technically can't. Well, he CAN but it wouldn't really be a wise decision at all. She may be old but she's one of the oldest residents in this town; she's quite well known for her orchard, she's respected and moreover, she's liked. Her sudden disappearance or if she were to be found dead in a ditch, it would cause a much bigger uproar than the usual death of some hillbilly or yahoo or a total stranger so killing her is quickly scratched, but Philip Graves is everything but a quitter and if he can't get you closer to him then he will get closer to you.

What a pity that a very unexpected loose step would send poor Mrs Marjorie into the hospital with a cracked pelvis for at least a month and poor little you is left all alone to tend to the house and farm :((

....Well at least until a certain good samaritanian named Philip Graves didn't appear and offer you (more like stated) that he will be staying here with you until Marjorie gets out of the hospital. At first you refuse since you don't want to distract him and take him away for such a long time away from his ranch but he's insistent, his farmhands will handle everything and it's not like he doesn't have a car and can just drive up in case of emergency! Don't you worry your pretty little head darlin' <3

Almost immediately there's strict rules enforced; he's the man, the theoretical head of the house plus he's much older and more experienced with these things so he'll get the physical labor done and you just be pretty, cook rich meals for him when he comes home in the evenings hungry and tired, and ofc be a good girl and bring the man his beer when he's sprawled out in front of the TV watching football, would you? And like the good girl you are, you of course do it :((

And the best thing? You don't question his escapades late at night, he's pretty sure you don't even know it's him since you sometimes ask him if he saw or heard footsteps outside on the back porch but then he just says that "It must have been them damn coyotes again darlin', nothing to worry about yeah?"

But the last 'incident' was just,,pure delight. Philip knows that he gave you quite the scare, creepin' up on your door like that in the middle of the night but he'd lie if he said that he doesn't enjoy those quick little breaths and the worried look on your face when you're scared; cute.

Like the gentleman he is, he of course first knocked at the door and only when you replied Philip opened the door and went inside your room and there you sat-all pretty and soft and comfy in your bed in that fucking downright sinfully innocent pink nightgown of your. If Philip was a lesser man he swears he'd jump your bones right then and there and breed you full of a kiddie or two.

He innocently chalks up the late night visit to "just wanting to check on you" since he knows you've been getting scared lately and the look of relief of your face said it all really. But...the thing was that he got so awfully lonely in that big ol' guestroom, he thought that maybe...you could start sleeping with him? The months are getting colder and every bit of extra warmth is very much welcome, not to mention that would mean that literally nothing would get to you since Phil would protect you at night when you're most vulnerable!

It's the last argument that seems to win you over and all embarrassed and flustered you pick up your fluffy blanket with you and follow the older man into his bedroom, not noticing the wolfish smirk on his stubbled face. He swears he's in heaven when he feels your soft, smaller body pressed against his in bed and he can't wait until the day where you two will sleep like this in his huge bed back home as husband and wife <3

[maddiethedogstories]

New You Gym - 11

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

"Well, if it isn't just the lying little pants wetter a was looking for!" Julie said with a predatory grin on her face.

Kylee felt a little more urine dribble into her panties as the large woman began stalking towards her. Between the look in Julie's eye and her dominant posture, Kylee felt like a antelope about to be eaten by a lion.

"You thought you could get away with not following through on our bargain, and I wouldn't find out?" Julie raged as she got closer to Kylee. "You didn't think I would have someone check in on you?"

"I... I'm... so sorry," Kylee sputtered as Julie started looming over her. "It was a bad choice."

"Oh, you're right it was a bad choice. I have half a mind to walk up to the CrossFit studio and show your husband this video right now."

Julie pulled up her phone and pressed play on a video that showed everything. Kylee being undressed by Julie, pooping on the training potty, letting herself be wiped by Julie, and cumming at Julie's hand. Kylee's stomach sank with fear and embarrassment.

As Julie played the video, she noticed the puddle forming on floor under Kylee. She started to laugh.

"My God, and I was right too! You have the bladder control of a toddler! And you still decided not to wear at least a pull-up? Pathetic." Julie lectured Kylee. "What am I going to do with you?"

Kylee kept staring at Julie's phone, stunned.

"You... you recorded that?" Kylee asked as she watched herself orgasm while getting her ass wiped by another woman like a toddler.

"Of course, sweetie, we have to record everything that happens in the gym for liability purposes. I also have the video of your little accident in CrossFit, too. Do you want to re-watch that?" Julie asked menacingly.

Kylee could only stammer out, "N-n-no. That's ok."

"That's alright, maybe we can rewatch that later, Little Miss Piddle Pants. In the meantime, though, I asked you a question: What am I going to do with you? Do I need to share this video with Michael?" Julie responded.

"Oh, oh God. Please don't share that with Michael, please! I'll do anything!" Kylee pleaded. Beyond the embarrassment of her husband watching Kylee being treated like a toddler, Kylee knew that he would consider her being brought to orgasm by another person as adultery. Their relationship would be over.

"Anything? I could work with that. You cannot violate the terms of any new agreement we might come to like you did today, understood?" Julie said as she moved into a position hovering over the nervous women wearing urine soaked yoga pants.

"Understood," Kylee said as she broke eye contact with Julie.

"Unfortunately, your word in this is not going to be enough. You already proved that your as trustworthy as the two-year-old you act like. I need you to prove your obedience to me first." Julie stated.

Kylee swallowed nervous. "Ok," she conceded.

"Good," Julie responded, "Now get your pee soaked britches up on that changing table."

Kylee turned around and looked at the gigantic changing table. She knew there was no way she could climb up there without a step stool or a boost from Julie.

"Um, Julie, uh, I mean, Miss Julie, I want to do what you're asking, but I need a, uh, bit of a boost," Kylee said timidly.

"Gah, you really are just a pathetic little thing, aren't you?" Julie said as she grabbed Kylee by the waist and unceremoniously lifted her onto the table.

Kylee gasped at the surprise of being so suddenly lifted, and, also, found herself unfortunately aroused at being manhandled so easily by Julie. Once in the table, however, Kylee knew what to do. She laid on her back and waited for instructions.

Julie began removing Kylee's shoes and wet socks. Once those were removed she expertly yanked Kylee's wet yoga pants and panties off of her. Kylee was uncomfortable with how familiar she was getting to the feeling of having another woman undress her.

Kylee laid naked from the waist down in the changing table. Her pussy, adorned with a full bush, on full display for Julie.

"Just as I remembered, quite hairy. This isn't going to do at all. Hold still," Julie ordered as she produced shaving cream and a razor.

"What are you going to do with that?" Kylee asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

"Ssh, child. I do not need or care about your input right now, that is, unless you want me to show..." Julie was quickly interrupted by Kylee.

"No, no, no. I'll be quiet!"

"Yes, you will," Julie said. Julie then pulled out an extra large pink pacifier and placed the bulb by Kylee's lips. "I want you to suck on this. We will go into more details regarding your new rules soon, but, in the meantime, you must know that when I give you a soother, you have to use it. You are not allowed to remove it from your mouth on your own. Also, while it is in, you are not allowed to speak."

Kylee took the pacifier in her mouth, started sucking on it and nodded her head in affirmation. She was amazed at how the rubber nipple of the pacifier fully filled her mouth. Given how trapped her tongue felt as she sucked, Kylee was fairly certain she couldn't talk with the pacifier in her mouth, even if she tried.

"Good girl, now lay still," Julie ordered. Kylee then watched as Julie quickly and thoroughly shaved away all of her pubic hair until her crotch was completely bare. "There, that should prevent diaper rash a bit."

Kylee's eyes widened in fear at the phrase 'diaper rash.' Was she being downgraded from panties, from even pull-ups, to diapers? Kylee didn't dare remove the pacifier to ask. She got her answer soon as Julie pulled out the largest, thickest diaper she had ever seen.

The diaper in Julie's hand, while clearly sized to fit an adult, was clearly not an 'adult diaper.' It was mostly white in color, but adorned with a childish print with circus animals dancing across the front and back of it. On the back of the diaper, the words "POTTY PANTS" were written in block letters, clearly meant to label the wearer. There was also a yellow wetness indicator down the middle of the diaper to allow a caregiver to visibly check if their charge needed a change. Kylee did not like the implication that came with the strip. It meant the wearer of the diaper couldn't be trusted to tell when they needed a change or not. Finally, the diaper was cut in a style much like an overnight baby diaper. Given the bulk of the diaper, Kylee was certain she would barely be able to walk in the thing. Kylee sucked on her new pacifier harder.

"Oh, I see you recognize this. Good girl! This is the first of what I imagine will be many diapers I get to put you in! Now, raise your little tush up so I can get this on you," Julie said in response to Kylee's bulging eyes.

Kylee, once again, did what Julie asked in the name of her marriage. She raised her soft round ass in the air and allowed Julie to place the padded undergarment underneath her.

"Good girl, now bottom down!" Julie ordered. Kylee complied.

Julie pulled out some diaper cream and squirted it liberally on Kylee's crotch. "Wouldn't want the baby to get a rash!" Julie said as she started rubbing it in to Kylee's skin.

Kylee looked away from Julie, once again turning red at being called a baby. However, Kylee's face soon began to flush for another reason. As Kylee was coming to learn about herself, being babied and humiliated was very much a turn on for her. Also, as Kylee already knew, Julie was VERY skilled with her fingers. As Julie rubbed the diaper lotion in, she paid careful attention to all of the right spots of Kylee's anatomy. Kylee started moaning involuntarily behind the shield of her pacifier.

"Oh, baby likes it when Miss Julie takes care of her, doesn't she? She likes the idea of being my silly little diaper girl?" Julie said.

"Mmmhmmm," Kylee moaned.

"She especially likes all of Miss Julie's **special** attention, doesn't she?" Julie continued.

"Mmmmmmmm..." Kyle continued.

"But, Kylee was a naughty little baby today, wasn't she? Pretending to be a good girl?" Julie asked.

"Uh, huh," Kylee said, beginning to thrust her hips into Julie's hand, but getting nervous as to where this was going. Kylee was so close to cumming. She was mentally willing Julie to work her fingers faster.

"Well, naughty babies who pretend to be big girls shouldn't get special treats, should they?" Julie asked.

At this point, all Kylee could do was buck and moan. She was so close to finishing.

"That's what I thought. So, no big girl treats for baby Kylee from me until she proves herself trustworthy," Julie said, commandingly. With that, she removed her hand from Kylee's throbbing, wet pussy and quicky taped Kylee's sex into the infantile diaper.

Kylee spit out her pacifier. "Noooo...." She bellowed. She was so close to finishing. Having her vagina taped away so suddenly felt like having a floor pulled out from under her.

Julie bent down, picked up the pacifier, and put it back in Kylee's mouth.

"That is not how you prove you are a trustworthy baby, worthy of my treats," Julie said warningly. Kylee blushed and took the pacifier back in her mouth.

"Don't worry Kylee, I am going to give you the opportunity to finish what I just started there, but first, I need you to do something for me."

Staring up at Julie from her place on the changing table, Kylee nodded her head up and down. Kylee's hands also started to drift towards the front of her diaper. She started rubbing the padding before Julie slapped her hand away.

"Stop that! You just keep proving what a toddler you are. I told you you would have the opportunity to finish, but you need to wait!" Julie commanded. "Now, get your padded behind off this changing table."

Kylee complied and climbed off the table. When her feet hit the ground, her suspicions about the thickness of the diaper were confirmed. The padding between her legs was so think she had to stand with her legs splayed apart to an almost comical distance. If Kylee wanted to walk at all, she would have a very pronounced waddle, not unlike that of a real toddler.

"Good," said Julie, looking proudly at her handy work, "now, I need you to prove how committed you are to being properly padded in the gym. If you want to come to any sort of deal with me that keeps me from showing Michael everything that has happened down here, you need to shit that diaper, right now, and when you are done, I want you to finish what I just started."

Kylee's stomach dropped in disgust, but, to her surprise, her pussy throbbed with arousal. Julie was asking her to willing play out the nightmare she had had just a few days before in real life. Worse yet, for the sake of her relationship, she had no choice but to comply.

With no other options, Kylee did what she had to, mimicking the infantalized dream version of herself. She dropped into a low squat, the bottom of the diaper she was wearing--her diaper, she thought with a shudder--hovering barely off the floor. She balled up her fists and started pushing. It felt almost exactly like her disturbing wet dream from the night after her last trip to the gym.

Kylee grunted cutely from behind her pacifier as she scrunched up her face in concentration. Before she released her load, the forthcoming contents of her bowels announced themselves with a few, loud, trumpeting farts. Then, Kylee felt it happen. Thick, solid feces started to slide out of her asshole as deposit itself in her waiting diaper. She could hear the plastic backing of the diaper crinkle as the back expanded with the addition of her surprisingly massive mess. Kylee could also feel the weight of each turd adding to the weight of the diaper taped to her hips. It felt as if someone was slowly depositing rotten fruit in her panties, one piece at a time.

Julie watched the entire show with an amused and matronly grin.

"Good baby," Julie said, looking down at the grown woman, squatting in a messy diaper, sucking on a pacifier. "Now it is time for you to finish what I started."

Kylee couldn't lie to herself. As disgusting as it was to be wearing a messy diaper, being humiliated and degraded like this turned her on to a level she had never reached before. She was ready to finish Julie's request.

NEXT CHAPTER

[works-of-fanfiction]

The Love of Another - Part Two || Cillian Murphy x actress!Reader

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Summary: After meeting on the set of Peaky Blinders, Cillian and Y/N struggle to keep their relationship professional.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, angst. Some (pretty cringe) fluff at the end.

Word Count: 5.7k

 a/n: thank you so much for the lovely feedback on the first part of this! I haven’t written anything multi-part in literal years, but this was fun. some chunky sections of dialogue here, hopefully easy to follow! enjoy x 

(Paul is Paul Anderson and Sophie is Sophie Rundle (if that wasn’t obvious already). Y/N’s character in the show is not canon/replacing any of the actresses, just feel free to use your imagination and slot her in somewhere! it is yourself after all.)

“Would you rather have Tommy teach you to ride a horse, or Arthur teach you to box?” The interviewer asked, smiling at the actress in front of her. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek, tapping her knee as she thought about her answer. “That’s a hard one, because both could end up with me on the floor!” She joked, looking past the camera at the crew who were essentially getting paid to laugh at anything she said. “I have to go with Tommy on this one. It’s probably the least dangerous! Plus, who doesn’t love watching Cillian ride those horses?” The two women laughed together before swiftly moving onto the more serious questions about Y/N’s debut in the series. “I’d have gone with Arthur.” Y/N’s husband sneered, lowering the volume on the TV. Behind him she was sat at the table, re-reading the new scripts she’d been sent and familiarising herself with the lines.

“They pay me to say stuff like that, you know.” She declared casually, not bothering to look up from the page. He turned around and watched as she scribbled down some notes, mouthing words to herself quietly.

“They pay you to brown-nose Cillian?” He scoffed, leaning on the back cushion. Dropping her pencil with a sigh, she finally looked up with raised brows.

“Yes. Just like I got paid to brown-nose every other man I’ve worked with.” She quipped sarcastically, rolling her eyes, and twirling the pencil between her fingers. She waited for him to respond, but the snarky comeback never came. A smart choice on his part.

Despite her only having met Cillian once, her husband still had this bizarre idea that they’d spent every waking moment together during filming. Y/N had become too exhausted to argue about it. Her career and her future in Peaky Blinders was a lot more important than her husband’s petty jealousy, and she certainly wasn’t going to throw away the role of a lifetime because of him.

“Y/N… Your line.” The prompter called, waving the script in the air and tapping the page with her pen.

“Oh, sorry. Can we go from the top?” Y/N asked nervously, looking around at the crew that were becoming increasingly impatient. What was supposed to be a quick and simple scene was turning into an hour of do-overs with Y/N forgetting small details on every take. “I’m really sorry everyone.” She addressed the room, some mumbling back, others just rolling their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Stepping forward off his mark, Cillian turned to the director. “I think we can pick this up next week. Don’t you?” He asked quietly, eyes flitting to Y/N and back again. “Long day…”

“Alright. We’ll set up for this scene first thing Monday morning, but I want it finished and perfect by lunchtime.” He spun in his chair, ordering everyone to go home and rest up on their rare weekend off.

Sighing, Y/N tugged at her hair, freeing it from the clips holding it tightly in place. Paul patted her shoulder sympathetically before leaving set, shaking Cillian’s hand on the way out. Cillian sat down beside her quietly, waiting for everyone else to filter out. Once the room was empty, he scooted closer, slipping his hand in hers beneath the table. “I had it, Cill, I had it.”

“I know.” He soothed, stroking her knuckles with his thumb. “I did it for my sake, not yours. This suit is itching.” He joked lightly, pulling at his collar. Looking up, she felt a smile creeping onto her face. There he was, being cheesy, always trying to cheer her up.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“I think the guest in your trailer might have something to do with it.”

Nodding, she looked down at their hands, at Cillian’s gentle fingers dancing along her veins. She thought about her husband; how he’d travelled all this way and spent the entire afternoon waiting for her. Yet here she was, comfortable in the arms of another man, betraying him for the thousandth time.

Cillian could see the cogs turning in her head. Forgetting to blink, she stared down at the tabletop, studying the cracks in the brown paint. He squeezed her hand softly, reminding her he was still there. “What are you thinking?” He whispered.

“I have to tell him, don’t I?” She asked, not really seeking an answer. For months she’d tried to plan a way to tell him, to come out with the truth and end her marriage for good, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t something she could do over the phone, but she also couldn’t bear to see him in person. She continued to pretend everything was OK, smiling through their FaceTime calls and sending love hearts whenever she couldn’t answer. ‘Couldn’t’ meaning when she was with Cillian.

“I don’t know how I’m going to do it, or when, or where, but I know I have to. I mean, it’s been a year already, and I think I just lost track of time but then  – “

“Hey, hey.” Cillian grabbed her face gently, putting a pause to her rambling. “You don’t need to go making any grand declarations today.”

“If I leave it any longer, it’ll just make it worse.”

Y/N seemed to stare straight through him, her jaw tensing beneath his fingers. Part of him wished he could fix it for her, that he could go to her husband himself and tell him the truth to save her the burden. He feared how her husband could react, knowing he had a habit of getting jealous and suspicious whenever she got too friendly with a man. He knew he could handle it but wasn’t sure she’d be able to.

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from the entrance; it was Sophie, looking for her so she could drag her to her birthday night out. The pair separated, Cillian standing awkwardly. “There you are. Come with me, I’ve found the perfect dress for you to wear tonight!”

“I’ll leave you ladies to it.” He smiled, giving Y/N one last reassuring smile before leaving the building. The last thing Y/N wanted to do was go out, but she didn’t want the crew hating her even more after her earlier fiasco, so she dragged herself to the wardrobe department and let Sophie show her the dresses they were going to ‘borrow’ for the evening.

“A vision in red! Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Paul beamed, hugging Y/N tight as she joined the group, her husband in tow. Paul made the effort to greet him - the man lucky enough to steal Y/N’s heart - as he put it. She laughed along, the pang of guilt inside her chest doubling in size. He may’ve had occupancy of her heart once upon a time, but that space had since been filled by someone else, and that someone was currently sat in the corner looking as handsome as ever. Cillian raised his glass to her, smiling, his arm flexing in his t-shirt. She nodded back, the all-too-familiar rush of heat spreading up her neck and to her face.

It was the perfect night for it, considering the football match just a few miles down the road was keeping most of the city occupied for a couple of hours. Everyone chose to pack out the pubs, leaving the majority of the bars fairly empty and ideal for the star-studded crowd to hide out and enjoy their night. It wasn’t often they all stepped out together like this, but birthdays were an exception. 

“Drink?” Y/N’s husband asked, throwing his arm over her shoulder. Leading her to the bar, he gushed about his conversation with the Arthur Shelby, and how much of a nice guy he was. She wondered if he’d speak so highly of Cillian, or if his strange vendetta would get the better of him. “Shots for the birthday girl?”

“Oh, not yet. Let me ease myself in.” She laughed weakly, drumming her fingers on the bar.

“Not even one?”

“Why? Are you trying to get me drunk?” She raised a brow, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Well, you always were fun after a few drinks…” He purred, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. She grimaced at his words, but luckily he didn’t notice as he was too busy waving at the bartender.

He ordered, yelling obnoxiously over the music. Y/N’s eyes wandered across the back of the bar as she absentmindedly bobbed her head to the song playing, mouthing some of the words. “Oh, I’ll get these.” They both turned to see Cillian standing there with his hands tucked into his pockets, a friendly smile on his face.

“It’s alright, mate. I promised I’d get the birthday girl her first drink.” Her husband’s hold on her tightened as he spoke, his fake grin wide enough to blind a man.

Y/N stood there between the two men, her heart pounding as she felt Cillian’s stare on her face. He’d had good intentions coming over, wanting to keep an eye on her, but she wished he’d stayed put at his table. She already struggled to act normal around her husband, and her lover’s presence only made things ten times more difficult.

“Perhaps some shots then? My treat?” Cillian rested his arm on the bar, catching the attention of another bartender.

“She doesn’t want – “

“Shots sound great. Thanks, Cill – ian.” She stuttered, correcting the nickname before her husband noticed. He looked down at his wife, then back at the man beside her who calmly ordered, leaning over the bar so he didn’t have to shout. Funny how she suddenly agreed to shots when he was the one paying…

Cillian passed Y/N and her husband a shot each, and they downed the drinks together. She winced as it burned her throat, sticking out her tongue as she groaned. “Tequila! Are you trying to kill me?” 

The Irishman laughed, nodding a last thank you across the bar. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled sincerely, giving her arm an affectionate squeeze. He left the bar, rejoining the cast and crew and instantly slotting himself into a conversation. She watched him fondly, almost forgetting about the man stood behind her. Stretching his arm over her shoulder, her husband placed the drink into her hand. 

She turned and took a sip. “Thank you… Wait, you didn’t take your shot?” She asked, pointing at the full glass on the bar. He shook his head, taking a swig of his beer. “Why not?”

Swallowing with a loud ‘ah’, he shrugged, his expression blank. “I figured it was a moment to be shared between the two of you. Here. Why don’t you have mine?” He slid the shot towards her, tapping the rim of the glass twice. “Go on. It’s your birthday after all.” 

“You’ve got some nerve. Can’t you go a day without starting this bloody argument?” She hissed, pushing the shot back to him. Some of it spilt over the edge, leaving a sticky sheen on the bar. “Drink it, and let’s go join my friends.” 

“I wouldn’t drink it if you paid me to.” He leaned down to her level, trying to intimidate her, but it didn’t work. She wasn’t scared of him; she just saw him as a pathetic, jealous little boy. When he behaved like this, it made her wonder why she ever felt bad for cheating on him at all. 

“Fine. You want to be a child? Then two can play that game, babe.” She spat, turning on her heels and heading towards Cillian. She slipped herself into the group between him and Sophie, linking arms with the woman on her left. “Which one of you is going to dance with me?” 

“I thought you’d never ask!” Sophie squealed, taking Y/N’s drink. “Look after this, will you?” Thrusting it into Cillian’s free hand, she then dragged Y/N into the nearest space, throwing her arms in the air and whooping to the music. They joined hands and spun around like two girls in a playground, shouting the wrong lyrics to the song and giggling uncontrollably. 

Y/N twirled around and set her sights on Cillian, beckoning him over with her finger. “I’m not dancing!” He laughed over the music, keeping a firm grip on their drinks. “I’m guarding your drink!” 

“No, go on. It’s her birthday.” Her husband goaded, appearing behind Cillian. Y/N frowned as she watched the two men speak, unable to hear what they were saying. Sophie grabbed her and spun her around, putting her back to them.

“Shouldn’t it be you dancing with her?” Cillian asked innocently, gently placing the drinks on the table. 

“Oh… I don’t think she’s my friend at the moment.” 

Watching his wife dance, he got the sense he was losing her; that she was slipping away from him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He’d noticed how Cillian watched her, that lovesick puppy dog smile pasted on his face and eyes following her every move. He had attended many an event with her past co-stars, and none of them had ever looked at her like that. To him, Cillian was showing off, gloating that he’d lured his wife away from him. He wanted to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face if it was the last thing he ever did.

Y/N stumbled out of Sophie’s grasp, dizzily making her way back to the table. “Everything alright?” She asked, out of breath and reaching for her drink. “It’s a workout dancing with her.” 

“Don’t you worry, love. Everything’s fine. I was just talking to Cillian here about you. About the two of you, I mean.” Sniggering behind his glass, he gulped down the remainder of his beer and wiped his mouth, clearing his throat. Cillian’s face contorted in confusion, his fingers gripping the edge of the table, toes curling inside his shoes out of frustration.

“What’s he said to you?” She asked, directing her question to Cillian. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be rudely interrupted. 

“So quick to jump to his defence.” 

“We’re not doing this here.” Y/N snapped, dropping her glass with a thud. “You are not showing me up in front of my colleagues, my friends.” 

“Pick a place then, love. It won’t make a fucking difference.” Her husband could be nasty when need be, but she wasn’t about to stand and take it, especially not with an audience. 

“Right - “ Cillian started, cut off by Y/N barging past them both and towards the doors. This caught the attention of her cast mates, which Cillian quickly fed a lie to before speeding after her. 

He found her outside, stood against the wall and hunched over, hands clutching her knees. “Y/N, I’m so sor - “ 

“Cillian, don’t you dare apologise for his behaviour. Do you hear me?” Her voice shook as she spoke, the sudden rush of anger overwhelming her. She slid down the wall, sitting on the pavement, her exposed shoulders flat against the cold bricks. “Who does he think he is? Acting like that in front of everyone? I could lose my fucking job.” 

“You wouldn’t lose - “ 

“Yes, Cillian. I would. If the studio… If the writers found out about this - “ 

“They won’t.” He asserted, kneeling down so they were on the same level. “They won’t.” 

She took a few deep breaths, Cillian’s presence calming her down as he crouched opposite her, his fingers resting lightly on her knees. “You know, for months I have felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking at myself in the mirror and seeing the cheat staring back, the lousy fucking cheat.” 

“So, you’re not perfect. You’ve done some, admittedly not great things, but I don’t think anyone in there would blame you.” 

“Somehow I don’t think they’d praise me for fucking my co-star behind my husband’s back.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes and rubbing her temple with her fingertips. “God, I’m sorry, Cillian. I’m not trying to… You’re so much more than that, I – “

“It’s alright. You’re upset… And I can handle whatever you throw at me.” He joked, reaching out to pinch her chin.

Hearing the doors swing open, the two flinched, Cillian rising from the ground instinctively. “Well, isn’t this cosy?” Y/N’s husband drawled, sauntering towards them. “So… I was right, yeah? You and him?” He pointed between them, his words directed at Y/N.

“Please…”

“Just answer me. Put me out of my God damn misery.” He threw his arms in the air in defeat, letting them fall to his sides, hitting his thighs with a loud slap.

Pressing her palms against the ground, Y/N pushed herself up, adjusting her dress as she steadied her feet. She approached her husband, and Cillian put his arm out to try and hold her back. “It’s OK, Cill.” She stood looking up at the man she once loved, her hands balled into fists at her side, thumbs picking at the fabric clinging to her legs. “You’re right. You figured it out.”

He exhaled a laugh, kissing his teeth. “I knew it.” Turning away, he ran his hands through his hair, looking up to the sky and sighing deeply. “How long?” He looked back, hands on his hips and brows furrowed. “Y/N, how long?”

“Since my twenty-ninth birthday…” She said shyly, realising just how much worse that made everything look. It had been exactly a year, pretty much to the hour, that she’d shared the first kiss with Cillian that started it all.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Well, I am sorry for interrupting your little anniversary night…” Exasperated, he took a deep breath and exhaled the air with puffed cheeks. “You know what? You are not the woman I married.” He pointed his finger in her face, but she didn’t react. Folding her arms over her chest, she stepped back until she felt Cillian against her, his hands supporting her upper arms. He whispered comforting words into her ear and her eyes began to water as she continued to stare at her husband, distant and unblinking.

Silence fell upon them, and Y/N expected more to be said, but was surprised to witness her husband turn and walk away. Anything else he had left to say was muttered under his breath as he disappeared around the corner. She and Cillian waited a few seconds to see if he would come back, but the street stayed unusually empty and quiet. “It’s alright. He’s gone.” Cillian whispered, and she spun in his arms, clinging onto him desperately.

Her thoughts felt like they were drowning in a whirlpool, like she couldn’t take control of them no matter how hard she tried. The heaviness in her heart had dissipated, but the ache in her stomach and throbbing in her head persisted. “Can we get out of here, please?” She begged, her head buried in Cillian’s chest.

“Shall I tell the others we’re leaving?”

“Just leave it. Please, can we just go?” Her voice cracked as her hold on him tightened, pieces of his shirt screwed up between her fingers.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Lying on the bed, Y/N stared at the ceiling, her fingers ghosting over Cillian’s as he laid beside her. A strange mixture of relief and dread washed over her body, making her feel weak yet incredibly alive at the same time. She wanted to jump up and down, to declare her feelings for Cillian from the highest rooftop she could find. However, another part of her wanted to hide, to burrow under the covers like a scared child until it was safe to come out. She was too afraid to check her phone; it was probably already blowing up with messages from her family and friends.

How could you? 

Who was there for you when you were starting out? Did the fame get to your head? 

He’s heartbroken! You should be ashamed. 

The mere thought of it all made her head spin, and it was far easier to leave her phone on do not disturb and pretend no one else existed for a moment. Her thoughts felt so loud, and she wondered if they both held their breaths for a moment, would Cillian be able to hear the gears twisting and turning inside her brain? Or the steam coming out of her ears? 

“Some birthday this was.” She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Am I supposed to feel bad? Like… Is this the point where I’m supposed to cry and scream about how terrible of a person I am?” 

“You can if you want to.” Cillian turned his head to the left, and she looked over at the same time, their eyes meeting in the middle.

“No… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to. I just can’t. I don’t feel bad, not anymore. Is that horrible?” 

“How do you feel?” 

This was a new feeling for Y/N, for the both of them in fact. Throughout their relationship they’d spoken about everything from their favourite albums to their very particular pet peeves. They’d even spent a whole night debating the existence of aliens, sitting out on the balcony of a hotel room and bickering with each other beneath the stars. The thing they hadn’t really spoken about were their feelings, including their feelings for each other. Those three fateful words were still dangling from the tip of Cillian’s tongue, and there was so much Y/N wanted to say in return.

“I feel… Relieved. I feel free.” Clasping her hands together, she tucked them under her head. “That’s awful to admit, isn’t it?” 

“It’s better than pretending.” He rubbed her shoulder soothingly, his thumb slipping beneath the strap of her dress. “Paul was right, you are a vision in red.” 

Y/N giggled, swatting his hand away and adjusting the strap. “You are such a flirt!” 

They stayed looking at each other, studying each other’s faces as if there was something new to see. Y/N counted the little flecks in Cillian’s bright blue eyes, watching his pupils twitch and change sizes with every few blinks. He added up the freckles on her face, imagining how they’d look if they were connected like tiny constellations across her cheeks. He smiled to himself, his tongue poking out to swipe across his bottom lip. “What?” She asked, eyes squinting with playful suspicion. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” His voice was gentle and quiet, barely reaching above a whisper. It wasn’t necessary in the room they were in. Not a single sound could be heard around them, except for their breathing and bodies shuffling against the sheets. He swallowed his words, assuming that perhaps she wasn’t ready to hear them. It had only been an hour since she confessed to her husband in the street, and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with a big declaration of love. He’d know when the time was right, he was sure of it.

Rolling off the bed, Y/N pressed a kiss to Cillian’s forehead and went to take a shower. Whilst she was gone, he looked around the bedroom, spotting various bits of his belongings scattered from the many times he’d stayed over. Filming for the series was almost complete, and it would soon be time for them to pack up their rentals and head home, wherever that may be. He thought about how things might change now that they technically didn’t have to sneak around anymore. Would people start to notice? Would they be victims of some derogatory Daily Mail headline by morning? 

Returning in a towel, Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, combing through her damp hair in the mirror. Cillian knelt behind her, balancing on the mattress as he ducked his head down to press a soft kiss to her shoulder. “I’m sorry you didn’t get the birthday you deserve.” He murmured against her skin. She closed her eyes and hummed, enjoying the feeling of his lips moving across her shoulder blade. 

“I think it was exactly what I deserved.” She whispered, turning her head to catch a glimpse of him. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he gazed up at her through his lashes. 

“There’s still just under two hours left of it. Do you think we can turn it around?”

“What do you suggest?” 

Cillian scrambled to his feet, hitting the carpet with a clumsy thud. Clicking his fingers, he pointed to Y/N, a goofy smile on his face. “You still have that wine in the fridge?” 

“You really trust me to drink wine after last time?” She raised a brow then mimed throwing up, clutching her stomach with her arm. “After last time…” She fake gagged, making him grimace.

“OK, OK! Bad idea!” 

He stood with one hand on his hip, the other raking through his hair. Cocking her head to the side, Y/N admired the view in front of her, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth. There was something oddly appealing about Cillian in regular clothes with the signature Tommy Shelby haircut. He wore a crisp white t-shirt with dark jeans, which just happened to be one of her favourite looks on him. It was simple, yet he somehow made it the most attractive thing she’d ever laid eyes on. Her eyes followed the trail of his veins down his forearm, where they reached the hand that sat just above his waistband.

“I’m gonna be honest, that was my only idea.” He laughed, resting his cheek in his hand. 

“Cillian…” She said softly, shuffling to the edge of the mattress. “Come here.”

As he approached, she parted her legs, giving him enough room to stand between them. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked down, his eyes meeting hers. She looked so beautiful like this; just wearing a towel with unruly wet strands of hair stuck to the sides of her face. Her cheeks blushed a light pink, decorated in a couple of stray droplets of water from the shower. 

“Closer.” She whispered, reaching up to grab his shirt. He lifted his knee and rested it on the mattress beside her, using his hands as support as he hovered over her, lowering her until she was laid on her back. 

“Is this close enough?” He breathed, his palms flat on either side of her head. 

“Almost…” 

He lowered himself further as if he was performing a press-up, using the strength in his wrists to steady himself above her. “This will do.” She smiled, bringing her lips to meet his. 

Dropping to his elbows, Cillian weaved his hands into her hair, tugging gently at the root. She moaned softly into his mouth, arching her back to inch herself closer to him and press their chests together. He groaned, a shiver coursing through his body as the towel around her dampened his shirt. 

Pulling away from the kiss, they each opened their eyes and gazed at the other, panting quietly with heat-flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Their faces were just close enough to still be able to see one another properly without their vision blurring. Y/N sighed, her forefinger tracing the curve of his cheekbone. “Are you OK?” Cillian asked, running the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I just…” She couldn’t concentrate with his fingers under her chin, featherlight and careful across her skin. Blinking slowly, she relaxed into his touch, relishing in the feeling of the goosebumps that prickled her cheeks. 

“We can stop if you want.” 

“No, no. That’s not what I want. Quite the opposite, actually.” Her words weren’t exactly a lie, but they didn’t seem to match the look on her face.

Worried, he flipped onto his side and laid next to her, his right hand finding a loose piece of thread hanging from the towel and twisting it around his finger. “If you need a bit of space for a while – “

“No, Cillian. Please don’t say that.”

“Alright, I’m sorry…”

“I just don’t know what happens next. Am I supposed to announce it to everyone? Do I file for divorce on Monday? How does this all work?” She laughed slightly, mostly at herself for being so clueless. “I think telling everyone my marriage is over will be the easy part. How do I tell them about us?”

“Well, the divorce stuff can wait for a bit. You don’t need to rush into anything.” He patted the bed, searching for her hand. She turned her palm upwards, letting his slide over the top and their fingers entwine. “As for telling anyone…”

“What?” She rolled onto her side, mirroring his position. “Do you think we should tell people?”

“I was going to say, is there really any need in telling anyone yet? I mean, we’ve kept it between the two of us for this long already and – “

“Yes, but that was because we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know... but just think about it. I think it would be weirder if we charged into work next week and announced it to everyone.”

She stared at a crease in Cillian’s shirt, daydreaming about how things were going to be. He was right. They didn’t need to shout about it, and Y/N certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to herself just yet. She already knew what people were going to think of her and label her as, and she wanted to delay the backlash for as long as possible; whether her husband was going to allow that was another story…

Cillian opened his arms for her, scooting higher onto the bed so his feet were no longer dangling off the edge. She followed, snuggling into him and tangling her legs with his. The silence between them was heavy, like there were a million words going unsaid. Y/N knew that Cillian was everything she wanted, but a small part of her worried about what would happen to her husband. Being married to someone for four years was going to leave a stamp on her forever, but she sincerely hoped he’d be OK, and that he wouldn’t try to inflict a war on her and Cillian. She knew in time that things would smooth themselves out and feel normal, but for now, she was content to sit in her little confusing bubble, just as long as Cillian was in it with her.

“Cill?”

“Mhm?”

“When we met earlier in wardrobe, and I spotted that box, what was in it?” She smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

“You really wanna know?” She nodded. “OK… Well, that box wasn’t actually for you.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what was in it! It was already there.”

“Cillian!” She slapped his chest playfully and he huffed, feigning hurt. “Why did you say it was for me?”

“Technically, I didn’t! You just assumed.” He laughed, watching her cheeks redden and brows knit together. “Don’t look so disappointed! Listen, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow when I give, or rather take you to your real present.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“That’s all I’m saying! I’m not going to spoil it.”

“Fine…” He hugged her tightly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. She listened to his heartbeat, counting the thumps in sets of eight. Looking up from his chest, she was surprised to see him already looking at her. “What about my other present?” She whispered.

“What do you – Oh, right. That.”

She sat up, kneeling beside him so she could see him better. He rotated onto his back, folding his arms across his chest, and tucking his hands under his arms. “Y/N – “

“No, wait!” She turned her head, fixing her messy hair and readjusting the towel around her body. Turning back with a flip of her hair and a dramatic flailing of her arms, she gestured for him to sit up.

“What are you doing?”

Awkwardly crawling closer on her knees, she ran the back of her hand over his cheek, leaving it to rest below his jaw. “Cillian.”

“Y/N.” He chuckled, and she immediately hushed him. She tried her best to be serious, but laughter threatened to burst out of her. “Whatever you’re doing, please get on with it because you’re freaking me ou – “

“Here it comes…” She spoke in her best attempt at an Irish accent, cringing at herself.

“Oh for Christ’s sake.” He threw his head back, belly laughing, and she grabbed him by his shirt to pull him back. Composing himself, he bit his cheeks to refrain from laughing any more. “Sorry… Go on.”

“I love you.”

He was silent, staring at her as he ran his fingers along his upper lip nervously. He knew it was coming, yet it still caught him by surprise, hearing those words come out of her mouth. He’d heard her say them plenty of times when they were in character, but this was different. They sounded so sweet when they finally meant something, and feeling her eyes on him made his heart pound in his chest. “Too cheesy?” Y/N asked, dropping the terrible accent.

“Cheesy, but I liked it.”

Sitting down cross-legged, she reached her hand out for him which he gladly took. He kissed her knuckles softly, keeping his lips there as he looked up at her. “I love you too.” He confessed. Both their bodies seemed to slump as if a weight they’d been carrying had been lifted, and despite everything that had happened, or rather gone wrong, that night, this moment felt right.  He kissed her again, before slotting his fingers between hers and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “And we’re going to be OK.”

[shintaru]

I know if I'm haunting you | you must be haunting me

Theme board ♡ windbreaker ♡ taglist

You’re both being chased by a guy with a chainsaw, you’re running trying to pull wooin along but he’s walking too slow because he can’t stop laughing.

“Hold on give me a second,” he says hunching over while clutching his stomach and laughing “Wooin we don’t have a second that guy is coming around the corner” Wooin falls laughing making you sigh you’re trying to help lift him off the ground but he won’t stop laughing. “Alright it’s not that funny” you say getting a little stressed because you can hear the chainsaw getting louder and louder.

“Wooin get your ass up or I’m leaving you here,” you say which only makes him laugh more. By the time you have Wooin barely off the ground, the guy with the chainsaw stands before you to revving it up causing Wooin to break out in another fit of obnoxious laughter. The guy's chainsaw gets stuck in a spiderweb decoration causing the chains to come to a stop making you burst out into laughter this time.

The guy with the chainsaw stops pursuing you two and you continue your way through the house pulling Wooin along. You stop in your tracks noticing Wooin’s been staring at you for quite some time. “Why are you staring is there something on my face?” You ask panicking feeling your face, hoping there weren’t real spiders in the house or something worse. “no, why does it make you nervous when I stare? ” he asks stepping closer to you. Feeling relieved you remove your hands from your face and reply “Everything you do makes me nervous you’re unpredictable”

He takes another step closer to you making you back up against a standing coffin decoration. Placing one hand on your hip pulling you closer to him and the other under your chin making you look up at him. “What are you-” your question is cut off by a kiss from Wooin. Breaking away from the kiss “you taste like lollipops” your response makes him laugh. “What was that for?” You ask. “Nothing just wanted to kiss you” he replies.

He takes your hand and you continue walking through the haunted house. Later you find out there were cameras in the haunted house making the kiss go viral beating Jay Jo & Shelly Scott’s airport kiss. Causing another band of couples to go to a location trying to re-create the kiss. You both weren’t expecting that.

You both walk around the haunted house some more stopping when you approach what you hope is a masked mannequin it doesn’t move even as you approach it.

“That mask is kinda hot” you tell wooin making him laugh the masked mannequin moves tower Wooin’s face yelling “prepare to meet your doom” with an eerie screeching sound of laughter following “At least take me out to dinner first” Wooin says pushing the mannequin out of his face making you laugh.

Reaching the end of the haunted house and walking towards the exit you both receive a lot of weird stares when you come out arms linked together trying to support the other’s weight nearly falling over with every step from laughing so hard

It was raining when you both walked out of the haunted house. Before you could tell Wooin to be careful he slipped falling a few steps “I told you not to wear slides” you say “you didn’t say it was going to rain” he replies “I didn’t know it was going to rain, but who wears slides to a haunted house you can’t run in those” you reply “I wasn’t going to run anyway, but I can throw them at the killers” he replies making you both laugh again as you help pull him off the ground.

“That was fun let’s go again next year” Wooin says.

Dedicated to @cozyunderworld & @rossesnd

[hotchs-big-hands]

What did you call me?

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|8.3k words

Aaron Hotchner x plus size fem!reader

NSFW Minors dni please

Warning(s): fatphobia, angst, body insecurities, comfort, smut, fingering, daddy kink/sir kink, spanking, body worship, sex toys, unprotected sex, just generally very smutty lmao

When Dom/sub couples begin to show up murdered mid-coital, the BAU team is brought in to solve the case. But as more couples are found and the unsub remains undetected, it becomes an undercover mission. The posing Dom/sub couple in question? Your intimidating, attractive boss and you.

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Hiiiiiii 💖💖💖 just wanna say thank you so so much for enjoying this lil series, the response has been amazing!!! It really warms my heart so again thank you so much!! I really hope you enjoy this last chapter and here's to more fics in the future!! I hope you all enjoy 💖

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From the moment you arrived back at the station you could feel the stares from the officers around you, zeroing in on you like a pack of wolves. You wanted nothing more than to shrink into nothingness, anything to stop them staring at you. You remembered that you still had that damn collar on and made quick work of removing it, but now you had nowhere to put it. Your bag was in your hotel room.

Reluctantly, you approached Emily, who was chatting quietly to Spencer whilst waiting for your unit chief to... re-emerge. Spencer blinked as he caught sight of the lovebites that were starting to really set in on the bare skin of your chest and neck. Emily smirked at you when she spotted you but you tried to ignore it.

"Em... I was wondering if you could put this in your bag for now?" You asked, holding out the collar whilst your cheeks flushed. You kept your gaze elsewhere, anywhere but your two friends. She chuckled.

"I mean, you could just wear it."

You clenched your jaw and stepped closer, anxiety beginning to bubble inside you.

"Please, just put it in your bag! I'll take it back off you when we get back to the hotel, but for now please take it off me."

She stared at you for a moment, then a wide grin stretched across her face.

"Alright, alright I was just teasing. Save that begging for Hotch. I'll take it for now, alright?" She teased, making Spencer take a large gulp of his coffee, brows raised and eyes wide and you scrunched your own shut for a second.

"Could have worded that differently but... Thanks." You handed the collar to the raven haired woman and she shoved it into one of the side pockets of her bag. You exhaled and wrapped your arms around yourself again. There was a flurry of footsteps behind you and your shoulders tensed up, not daring to turn around at the risk of facing Hotch.

"-We'll have to start conducting the interrogation without him, I'm not waiting around forever." You heard the chief of police say and your eyes glanced towards Spencer and Emily, equally sharing an exasperated expression. Sighing quietly, you turned around and came face-to-face with the chief, Rossi, Derek and JJ, who looked a little stressed out.

"At the very least, allow us to do this. If you go in there hot-headed, she's going to just seize up and not say a word." Rossi said and you glanced at him, before quickly looking away.

"Are you suggesting I don't know what I'm doing?" The chief turned around to stare down the seasoned agent, who didn't even batter an eye.

"I'm telling you what you need to know. We know how to deal with these things. Yelling at a suspect like this isn't going to get you anywhere."

Clearly dissatisfied with this, the chief spun on his heel to storm away when he seemingly finally noticed you were there and the expression on his face when his eyes sharply analysed you from head to toe made your chest tighten.

"You couldn't have gotten changed before you got here?" He asked gruffly and you squared your shoulders.

"No, why would I? There would be no point in me going back to the hotel to change my clothes and then travelling back here." You said. He sneered at you.

"Well no-one here really wants to see you dressed like you're trying to be a tart. You don't have the body for it anyway."

You couldn't stop your mouth from falling open in shock and dismay, paralysed by the harsh words. The room around you seemed to move, but you couldn't register that your friends and colleagues were in motion, the chief suddenly out of sight. This wasn't the first time, nor would it be the last time on a case you'd face such things from disgruntled detectives, police officers and the like, but no one would be so daring as to say something like that in front of the others. You'd never spoken about it to anyone, feeling embarrassed that you were treated as lesser than them. But now... Now they all knew.

You felt a hand on your shoulder which made you flinch and snap out of your daze.

"Hey... Come on." It was Derek's voice. You slowly turned to him and saw the concern deep-set on his face. You sighed a little and fought back the ache in your throat, the stinging in your eyes and the tremble of your lower lip.

"I'm fine. Who's doing the questioning?"

With a slight shake of his head, Derek placed his other hand on your other shoulder.

"Don't worry about that right now. What he said to you; it's a load of shit, okay?"

You didn't know what to say, so you shrugged. His hands tightened slightly, his concern deepening. His eyes glanced behind you and he communicated wordlessly with whoever it was, then his eyes returned to you.

"Prentiss and Rossi are going in there for now. You and I are going to get you something warm to drink, okay? We'll see where's still open right now." He said with a gentle sternness. You knew there was no point in trying to debate him on this, so you offered a small smile.

"Alright."

Even with this little bit of respite from the humiliation and pain you felt, soon to be holding your favourite warm drink whilst your friend did his best to make you smile, you knew the moment you were alone in your hotel room there would be nothing to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks and soaking into the pillows.

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Half an hour into the interrogation, Derek held the door open for you to slip into the viewing room to listen and watch. Your eyes darted around the room and your shoulders slumped; Hotch wasn't there still, but the chief was. He side-eyed you, looking a little pale and swallowing thickly before he returned to watching Rossi and Emily talk to Tanya. Why wasn't Hotch here still? Even if he had become...aroused during the undercover work, surely he would have returned to the station by now. You held back a sigh, instead sipping your drink as you analysed Tanya. There was no space for distractions, for silly thoughts. And yet...

Yet you couldn't stop thinking about him. Why he hadn't returned still. Was he avoiding you? Maybe he felt regretful for having to do those things with you. Maybe he was disgusted by you. Maybe-

Warmth surrounded you. Expensive fabric draped over your shoulders and suddenly your senses were overpowered. His cologne, his natural musk. Oh...

Cautiously, you peeked to the side and glanced up. Your mouth fell slightly open. Hotch gazed down at you, his eyes were already on you and your heart ached and your stomach felt fluttery. You noted that he was more well put together than earlier, as though nothing had ever happened. You turned away quickly, hoping the interrogation would be over soon so you could escape. This wasn't fair. Why...why did you allow yourself to let your guard down when you were doing the undercover work with him? You were embarrassed. Surely, he would have easily picked up on the fact that you weren't even acting, especially when the two of you made it to the bed and his lips were on your skin. At this point, you weren't so sure how you were going to return to work as normal after this.

"(L/n). Are you okay?" Hotch asked you quietly, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit, you hadn't realised tears were brimming in your eyes. You cleared your throat, refusing to turn from the viewing window.

"Oh yeah, I am. Just the adrenaline slowly dying down now." You said lamely. He laid a hand on your arm, willing you to turn to him. You tensed up at his touch, making him drop his hand and his brow to furrow.

"I'm not sure you are."

You couldn't do this, it was stupid. Stupid to be upset about a job, about your boss doing what you were supposed to be focussed on. You turned to the window again and looked down at the drink in your hand, delicate swirls of steam rising from the liquid.

"I think they're close to getting a confession from her."

"(L/n)." Hotch's voice sounded tight but you held firm.

"I just want to focus on this," you glanced at him and felt your heart clenching tightly, you almost hated the concern etched on his face. "Please."

Defeatedly, he sighed quietly and nodded.

"We'll have a talk later, then."

Your hands were trembling the next time you took a sip of your drink.

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There was no respite for you even when the interrogation was over. No, you'd made haste leaving the station after handing Hotch his jacket back, not giving him time to speak before you were rushing away, and even managed to travel with Rossi once again back to the hotel with Derek and Spencer in the back. And yet...

Yet your dear colleagues weren't about to let you wallow by yourself. All you wanted to do was change into your pjs and, frankly, cry yourself to sleep that night but JJ and Emily all but refused to return to their hotel rooms without making sure you were okay. It wasn't unwelcome, per say, but you wanted time to yourself to just process everything and let your emotions out alone.

And so you were curled up on your bed, still in the damn dress and lingerie, shoes long since kicked off at the door for the last time and pantyhose discarded in your bag, hugging one of your pillows to your chest. The two women watched you cautiously, both perched on the bed with you.

"Does it happen often?" Emily asked gently. You nodded glumly, eyes trained on the bedsheets.

"For about 70% of cases we go on I come across at least one person who treats me like that."

"Please try to tell one of us if it happens again in future, (Y/n)." JJ gazed at you and placed a hand on your arm. "I mean, if you told Hotch he would -"

"-no! I'm not telling him or would ever tell him about this!" You hissed, panic rising within you. "That's such a stupid thing to do. I'm an adult, there's no need for me to tell him people are being rude to me like he's a-a- a freakin' teacher or my dad or- Just no."

Before either of the women could say anything to counter this you glared. "And neither of you should tell him too. Keep him out of this."

"(Y/n), it's just important you don't let others to keep treating you like this. Hotch cares a lot about you. I mean, he's been asking about you because he worries about you. And that's only us that we know of him asking." The raven haired woman spoke softly, it made you grit your teeth and squeeze the pillow tighter.

"It's only because he's noticed I've not been focused enough at the moment." You muttered, not wanting to feel the flutter in your stomach. Maybe he did care, but not the same way as you cared for him.

Emily sighed quietly and lay a hand on your shoulder.

"Hey... Look, I'm sorry for teasing you about him. I don't mean any ill-will, I just think you both should get together."

You glanced at JJ, who smiled in agreement, it didn't stop the swirling thoughts in your head though.

"It's fine. I just..." You moved one of your hands to brush against one of the lovebites on your neck, unsure how to word what you wanted to say. "I guess I just, well, got too caught up in the moment that when the suspect burst into the hotel room I had to face reality. Hotch, he's my boss, nothing more. He's much older than me, I would just be too immature for him. I also just don't think I'd, yknow...be his type."

You stared intently at the bedsheets now, focusing hard to stop yourself from crying. The older women encased you in an embrace, letting you sniffle quietly as finally a few stray tears escaped your eyes.

"You need to talk to him, okay? If not tonight then maybe when we're back in Quantico." JJ suggested softly and as much as you hated the idea you nodded meekly, considering bringing up a request to either transfer to a different unit or resign. It was a good while before they let go of you, only doing so when you insisted you just wanted to get out of your clothing and put your pjs on. You were exhausted, not so much in dire need of sleep, just mentally and emotionally. With a gentle reminder they were both one message away from being there for you, Emily and JJ bid you good night and disappeared off down the corridor to their own rooms. Finally, you were in solitude. Now you could mourn a relationship that never would be and try to figure out where you'd go from here.

For a quarter of an hour you simply lay on your back with your arms sprawled out, staring at the ceiling as fresh tears streamed down your temples, every so often making your face twitch at the feeling. You didn't feel you even deserved to be so heartbroken over Aaron Hotchner. Neither of you were dating, he never showed any indication that he wanted to date you, nor would that be allowed anyway with his position as your boss. It was all in your head. Your lower lip trembled again as a new round of crying started up. At the very least you should get out of the clothes you were wearing before you gave up entirely on the evening. And so, very reluctantly, you pushed yourself to sit up and began the process of undoing your bra first through the dress.

The instant the clasp came undone you exhaled, feeling relieved. You pulled the garment out through the top of the dress once you'd moved it off your shoulders and dropped it next to you. Your hands drifted to the hem of the skirt, ready to pull it up over your head.

And then there was a firm knock on the door.

Instantly, you felt apprehension flood through you, bristling at the hollow sound. It was eerily familiar, but you weren't feeling in the mood to answer the door, whoever it was there. So you ignored it, opting to pull the skirt up again.

Another knock, more insistent now. With a groan, you rose up on your feet and stormed over to the door, just wishing to be left alone. You unlocked it, swung the door open and opened your mouth to speak.

"Please, just leave me alo-" Your voice died in your throat, eyes bulging wide and your stomach clenching. No... Surely, this was a joke.

"(L/n)." Hotch's voice was soft, deep. You slowly closed your mouth and cleared your throat.

"U-uhm. Good evening, sir." You managed to mumble. He stepped closer.

"May I come in?" He asked you cautiously, eyeing you. You barely managed to say yes to him whilst you stepped out of the way, pulling the door open wider as you retreated, then quietly closed the door behind him. You couldn't turn around just yet.

"C-can I help you, sir?"

"You've been crying."

Ouch. At that, you slowly faced him with your head bowed slightly.

"I may have been, yes."

He watched you, taking in your current state, trying to avoid lingering around certain areas after noticing a few changes since he last saw you. He stepped forward one step, hands at his sides loosely.

"Why?" He promoted you gently. You shrugged.

"It's nothing important."

"But it clearly is if it's making you cry. So please, tell me why you've been crying."

You felt your hands trembling when you slowly tilted your head up enough to gaze at him through wet lashes. He was so fucking gorgeous; the same button down shirt from earlier that night, the sleeves rolled up, those form-fitting dress pants, his beautiful brown eyes and beauty marks on his skin. You felt a fresh tear roll down your cheek.

"I.... I don't know what you want me to say." You finally said after a round of opening and closing your mouth. He frowned slightly, stepping closer to you enough for you to have to lift your head up more if you wanted to look him in the face.

"Dave told me what the chief of police said to you. I had....a word with him."

Your eyes widened and you stumbled further into the room, running a hand over your scalp.

"Oh fuck, that goddamn Italian man. I swear...." Your hands curled into fists and you closed your eyes for a second. "You didn't need to do that. I'm fine."

"Yes I did. I won't stand for anyone in my team being treated like that." He countered you, not breaking his stare. Your face fell, shoulders drooped slightly and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I... I'm tired, I was getting changed. Is it okay if we just talk about this another time?" You mumbled softly, refusing to look at the man in front of you.

"No."

You blinked, then looked up at Hotch wide-eyed.

"I'm sorry?"

He stepped closer still, eyes on yours as he gazed down at you through those gorgeous eyelashes.

"I said no. It's important I settle this now with you." He drew in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders back. You were entranced, you couldn't help it. "I need to make sure you know you did very well on this case, that you always do. But during this one you were exceptional."

You trembled a little, you could feel the warmth radiating off him and your brain felt slightly mushy from the praise.

"I..."

Hotch's eyes narrowed slightly. Your breath caught in your throat as you gazed up at him, blood rushing in your ears.

"You never seem to know what to say when given praise from me. Why is that?" He asked you firmly but not unkindly. You trembled.

"I... I don't think this is something we should be discussing, sir." You managed to mumble but he didn't waver.

"Ever since you joined my team you've always been shy and cautious around me. I originally thought it was just your personality but the way you interact with the others is very different." He was so close to you now that his scent melded into you, his warmth only posing to make you feel all the more hotter. "I began to have my suspicions of why, but it did become apparent to me what was happening. This...case only solidified that."

Oh god. He knew. He knew and still asked you to do the undercover job with him. The blood drained from your face and a coldness flooded your abdomen.

"W-wait, you've known I was into you all this time?!" You were mortified, staring wide eyed at Hotch. "You shouldn't have asked me to do that undercover job!"

You scrambled backwards from him and felt the back of your legs hitting the bed. Hotch watched you carefully, shifting his weight slightly to one hip.

"Perhaps not, no."

"So why? Why ask me to do it?" You pleaded softly, feeling your eyes prickle with tears. He followed you now and cupped your cheeks gently with his warm hands, stuttering your breaths.

"Because I'm a selfish man, (Y/n)." He spoke and you froze. Surely you were hearing him wrong.

"What?"

He smiled, one that you always loved seeing, as rare as it was. He leaned in closer to you, eyes on yours as he was now gazing through his long lashes.

"What I'm trying to say is I have feelings for you too."

No, there had to be a mistake. Your lower lip trembled slightly and your brows scrunched together.

"But...you're not into me... You've never been into me." You said quietly. He stroked your cheeks with his thumbs as he gazed down at you.

"I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. I'm your boss, it would affect you if it was not approved, not me. But also..." He swallowed thickly and glanced away. "I'm too old for you, I have a son, emotional baggage. But I decided to be selfish anyway and have you with me earlier, just so I could have even just a moment of pretending things were different between us. It's my fault, I want you. I need you so much, emotionally, physically, all of you."

You stared at him, stray tears rolling down your cheeks as you tried to process his words. It was unbelievable, never having felt so desired like this. And so you stepped away, turning from him and smoothing your hands over your dress self-consciously.

"Hotch, I... I'm not saying you're a liar but I just.... It doesn't seem realistic for someone like you to be into me." You let out a sad chuckle, moving to grab a shirt to pull on over your dress, expecting the conversation to continue for a while.

And then you heard it. A rumble from Hotch, almost a growl. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your wide, plump hips and he pulled you to him, your back to his heaving chest, a squeak of surprise escaping your lips.

"Does this feel like I'm not into you?" He hissed, pressing his crotch against your body where you could now feel the prominent hardness of his arousal against your lower back. His strong hands dug into the flesh of your plump hips hard enough to probably bruise you and you whimpered.

"H-Hotch?"

One of his hands loosened its grip on you, only to swat at your ass sharply.

"You know that's not how you address me, little girl." He sounded dangerous and it thrilled you to your core. Fuck, you reached behind you to grip onto his shirt.

"Sir?"

"Mhm you don't know how much it affects me when you call me that all the time." He rumbled, kissing the top of your head before turning you to face him again, smoothing his hands over your ass. "And when you called me daddy earlier this evening? I was ready to have my way with you immediately."

Your eyes were blown wide as your heart raced. Feeling his erection against your body... The coldness within melted away, leaving a burning hot need for him.

"I... I liked calling you that." Your voice was barely above a whisper, he smiled slightly.

"Oh?" He leaned closer, his mouth near yours now. You hesitated.

"Y-you really are into me, then?"

His gaze softened, setting your heart ablaze.

"Very much so. May I kiss you, sweet girl?"

You shivered.

"Please, please kiss me."

With a hum that vibrated through his very being, Aaron pressed his lips to yours softly, a feeling you'd been craving ever since earlier that evening. You tilted your head to deepen it, hands pressed against his broad chest whilst his own encouraged you to roll your hips against him. Your panties felt slick by this point, and he pulled away just enough to let you both breathe, a string of saliva connecting your mouthes.

"Sweetheart, let me prove to you what I say is the truth." He said softly, eyes boring into yours through heavy eyelids. You nodded slightly, earning a squeeze of your ass cheeks. "I need to hear you say it, little girl."

You gulped, cheeks hot.

"Please... Please show me, daddy."

He smiled, then pulled you over to the bed and laid you out.

"Such a pretty girl, all for me."

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled over to you and kissed you again, hands roaming over your cheeks and down your neck to your shoulders. As his hands crept to your chest you whimpered, pulling your lips back a little.

"I- before you came here I already took my-my bra off so... Uhm.." you trailed off awkwardly, earning a low chuckle.

"Oh, sweetheart, if I hadn't already noticed this the moment you opened your door to me I would be a fool. Will you let daddy touch them, hm? He's been wanting to touch your pretty tits for a very long time." He murmured against your lips and you nodded meekly, then quickly verbally said yes when a rumble vibrated through his chest.

"Please, daddy."

He groaned and his hands slid towards your chest. "Such a good girl."

God... His large hands cupped your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples through the fabric of the dress. You gasped, thrusting your chest up into his touch, to which he chuckled again.

"So needy for daddy's touch. Don't worry, sweet girl, daddy is going to make sure you never miss his touch again."

You moaned quietly, shifting to spread your legs so he could slot between them, the dress riding up your thick thighs as the fabric stretched. He pressed his crotch to your clothed slit and you mewled at the throbbing heat from him. He became more handsy, squeezing your breasts and pressing his face down to the valley between them, inhaling your scent, kissing you, sucking the skin. Your head was swimming. This was real, not an act for work. He was rolling his hips into you, groaning against your skin as he left multiple lovebites all over your chest. Your hands played with his soft hair, strands sticking up in different directions now and driving you wild. He sucked harder on your skin with every whimper and moan that escaped your swollen lips.

He pulled back suddenly and his hands slipped down to the hem of your dress.

"I want to see you, sweetheart. Will you let daddy take your dress off of you?"

You froze. As briefly as you had been mostly unclothed before Hotch earlier, this felt different. You felt vulnerable, shy. You bit your lip, making his brow furrow slightly.

"Sweetheart?"

"I... I don't know if you'd wanna see me naked. I mean, what if you don't really...like what you see?"

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, but a frown had begun to make itself aware on his face.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me? Knowing you don't feel good enough for me makes me angry, sweetheart." He said, playing with the hem. "Not angry with you, but everyone who's made you feel as though no-one would desire seeing your body."

His fingers ghosted over your clothed pussy, making you tremble and gasp out. You knew he could feel how saturated your panties were from the way he prodded his finger more firmly against you, the thought made your slit clench. His finger was so big against you...

"I... Mmm, I have just dealt with some stuff in the past, but I won't let it ruin this for us." Hotch's frown didn't waver at your words, his finger against your pussy stilled.

"You don't have to take your dress off if you're not comfortable, sweetheart. Nothing will ruin this, you aren't ruining anything. I want you to feel good, to understand in your own time that I desire you so badly. It's not about just sex, I desire you in all aspects. But I don't want you to be uncomfortable, okay?"

You felt yourself smiling at his words, burying your face against his chest momentarily as you giggled.

"You're making me feel all bubbly. I'm comfortable with you very much, Aaron. I... I feel confident enough to let you take my dress off." You said lightly, leaning back again to smile up at him. His mouth was slightly agape, slowly returning the soft grin.

"You called me Aaron. I've never heard you call me that before."

You were beaming now, pulling him down again to kiss him.

"Well I've not had the opportunity to until now, it was Sir, Hotch or daddy-"

Aaron's thumb brushed against your clit suddenly, your body freezing up at the sensation. You gasped out, spreading your legs wider still and feeling him smile against your mouth.

"You can call me Aaron next time, sweetheart. I like the way it sounds coming from you." Your mind fixated on the words 'next time', until his hand moved from your slit to tug on your dress. "Now then, sweetheart, let's get you out of this dress." He said and began to pull the velvety garment up your body.

You resisted the urge to curl in on yourself when the expanse of your thighs was revealed, the rolls and squish of your stomach and waist, up, up, up and over your head until you lay bare besides your panties. His eyes remained on yours as your chest heaved, nervousness creeping back into you. And then slowly, his eyes drifted down your body, taking you in little by little. His hands smoothed over your trembling thighs to soothe you, thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin near the heat of your panties.

"So fucking gorgeous." He rumbled, pressing his hips against you again. "Can you feel that? Can you feel me twitching against your little pussy? You're so fucking sexy, I need to fuck you real good, sweetheart. Will you let daddy take your panties off you?"

You thrust your hips up against him, whining at the feeling of his clothed cock twitching in his tight dress pants. You pouted.

"Only if you take something off too, daddy."

Aaron chuckled as he leaned down to kiss your forehead before he slowly unbuttoned his black dress shirt, revealing the plains of his broad chest and slightly soft stomach to you. You couldn't help but follow his hands as they moved down, zeroing in on the thick, dark hair of his happy trail which poked out the top of his trousers. Faded pink scars from Foyet littered his torso, your chest tightening at the sight of them. Shakily, you reached out with your hands to press against his skin, hot to the touch. He was shaking ever so slightly.

"You're so beautiful, like...really fucking pretty, sir." You said softly, eyes slowly drifting up to his face when he let out a chuckle.

"Pretty girl, tonight is about you."

You pouted.

"You deserve to feel desired and admired too, sir."

He smiled gently, leaning down to kiss your lips tenderly. His bare chest was pressed against yours now, a sensation that made you shiver and your inner thighs throb. It was heavenly, he was so heavenly. Reluctantly, he pulled from the kiss and his hands moved to the buckle of his belt, ready to unbuckle it. Your heart leaped, feeling giddy as you moved to kneel up and your hands grabbed his wrists. Aaron raised a brow at you, making your cheeks flush.

"I- please, let me do it for you, daddy." You felt shy about your eagerness, but the look in Aaron's dark eyes made you squirm.

"Aww, my pretty girl wants to help daddy, hm? Well, since you asked so nicely.."

He dropped his hands now, letting you remove his expensive belt. Your hands trembled when your eyes flicked to the bulge straining against the zipper, your mind finally catching up with you. You were a couple garments of clothing away from seeing your boss' cock, something you'd only thought about in passing or dreamt about many times. But now... Now you were going to see it, touch it, feel it inside you. Maybe one day he would let you taste-

"Sweetheart? We don't need to do this if you're not comfortable." Aaron's voice brought you back to the present, gentle and reassuring and a little concerned. You blinked, then realised you'd been staring for a moment too long.

"O-oh! No, I want to! I, uhm, I got lost in thought. I didn't expect my night to go this way." You said sheepishly, gripping onto the waistband of the black dress pants. "N-not that this is bad! I'm actually embarrassed to admit this but I've only really dreamed about this happening so..."

You glanced away, cheeks feeling flushed and you slumped back a little bit, missing the way Aaron's eyes followed the movement of your body and the jiggle of your breasts.

"Oh? You've dreamt about me, have you? Dirty girl. You'll have to tell me about these dreams another time." He teased you, causing you to clench your thighs together. He took your hands and moved them to the zipper and catch on his trousers with a smirk. "Come now, sweetheart. You know what you want to do."

You bit your lip, humming quietly and your fingers worked quickly, albeit clumsily to unfasten the trousers. Aaron was more than eager helping you ease them down his hips, revealing more of that delicious happy trail and then you were face to face with his straining black boxers. You couldn't stop the whimper from bubbling out of your throat at the sight of a damp patch of precum in the fabric where the tip of his cock was, feeling shy but eager you were the reason for it. You wanted a taste, needed it, but as you leaned down to press your lips to the fabric Aaron moved his hips away, chuckling when you whined.

"Sweet girl, I'll let you have a taste next time. Tonight is about you, though." He cooed, cupping your cheeks and stroking his thumbs against them. You straightened up again to press your lips to his, hips swaying as his clothed cock slipped between your thighs snugly and rubbed against your tingling clit. His hands trailed down your shoulders and smoothed round to your ass, encouraging you to roll your hips into him. He moaned into the kiss, squishing your ass cheeks tightly. You could feel his cock twitching against you, making you shiver.

Aaron's fingers curled around the band of your panties and you squeaked, feeling his mouth smirk against yours. Carefully, he slipped them down your trembling thighs and helped you pull them off your legs. You let out a jittery breath, now completely naked before him. He lay you back again and took in your full figure, breathing heavily with a rumble deep in his chest. You bit your lip, tempted to cover yourself up with your arms.

"W-what- do you think?" You asked meekly, nervousness beginning to seep into you. He knelt between your thighs and stroked the skin soothingly again.

"Sweetheart, you're breathtaking. I could worship you all night if you'd let me, help you realise just how sexy you are." His words made you blush and slick to trickle out of your pussy. Your hands moved to cover your face, a high-pitched whine escaping you.

"Shush! You're making my brain feel fuzzy!"

You let out a cry when one of Aaron's hands lightly slapped your thigh, pressing his crotch up against your slit.

"Little girl, don't be a brat now. Daddy wants to make you feel good but he'll have to punish you if you're naughty." He hissed, gripping your thighs and squishing the flesh of them sensually. "Now, let daddy see your pretty little pussy."

You whimpered but didn't resist when he slowly spread your legs, revealing your puffy pussy to him. He hummed as his eyes trailed over the slick folds, smirking slightly when they twitched involuntary.

"So pretty, just like the rest of you." He murmured, hands creeping closed to your slit until he thumbs were able to pull the dewy lips apart, exposing your hole and clit to him. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Please..."

He raised a brow at you, the smirk only growing on his handsome face.

"Please what? You need to tell daddy what you want."

You wiggled your hips, inching closer to his bulge and moaned.

"Please touch my pussy, daddy! Need it so bad, want daddy inside me."

Aaron groaned, leaning down to press a rough kiss to your mouth and your hips jolted when you felt the fingers of his left hand slide against your slit directly, coating themselves in your slick juices.

"Fuck, you're going to be the death of me, sweetheart." He growled. You jolted again as his wet fingers brushed over your clit, gasping out when he swirled the digits around the sensitive bud.

The fingers moved further down, teasing your entrance and then he slipped his middle finger inside your tight walls, slowly thrusting it in and out. He hummed, his other hand grasping one of your nipples and pinching, kneading, melding it. His ring finger slipped inside you next, stretching you out more as he scissored the two fingers. He plunged them as deep as they could go until you were able to feel the back of his other fingers against you.

"Mmmh... So big..." You moaned, eyes fluttering shut as Aaron fingerfucked you gently. He chuckled.

"Daddy has to make sure you're prepped for his cock, sweetheart."

The fingers curled upwards inside, feeling around until you cried out, eyes blowing wide from the intense sensation that burned within.

"F-fuck!"

Aaron didn't let up, thrusting and curling his fingers into the same spot, coaxing moans and whines from you. His hand picked up speed, the sticky sounds of your slick entered your ears but you were too hazy to be embarrassed. The pleasurable burn within your lower abdomen only intensified as his hand slapped against your pussy, the palm bumping your clit. You tried to scrunch your eyes shut, but the twist of your nipple shocked you to keep them open.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart. Let daddy see you when you cum." Aaron commanded, his dark eyes ablaze with desire as your moans pitched higher and your hips rolled into his hand. It was all too much then, your eyes rolled back and with a cry of his name you cummed hard, clenching around his fingers as slick gushed out of you. His fingers didn't let up, prolonging your orgasm and making your legs shake. When your body began to spasm the fingers slowed down, sliding out of you carefully and letting you have a moment of reprieve. Your chest heaved, your eyes fluttered shut as you slowly came down from the mind-numbing pleasure.

"Good girl, such a good girl. You looked so beautiful cumming for daddy." You heard Aaron groan in his sensually deep voice, causing a smile to grace your lips. Your heart was racing, slowly calming down as you lay there and distantly you could hear rustling of fabric and feel the mattress moving beneath you.

But then you opened your eyes wide when you felt something smooth but unfamiliar touch your chest and you gasped when you realised what it was.

"A-Aaron?" You squeaked. Trailing across your skin in Aaron's hand was the fucking remote control vibrator. He chuckled quietly as he circled one of your nipples with it.

"I thought we could make use of it. You don't know how much I've been thinking about this little thing ever since I found it in the suitcase." He eyed you, stilling the movement with a slight crease in his brow. "If you're comfortable with this, of course."

You barely managed to nod at him and bit your lip, letting it slowly slip through your teeth.

"Mhm I would, daddy. Please." You whined, rolling your hips and gasping when you felt flesh instead of fabric against your mound. You didn't know how you'd not noticed his boxers had been removed and now your eyes focused on the deliciously girthy cock at the base of Aaron's dark pubic hair. It was lengthy as well and slightly curved upwards, with prominent veins trailed across the flushed shaft. "O-oh fuck, you're so big, daddy!"

Aaron hummed and moved the vibrator to swirl around one of your nipples, not switched on yet still.

"Little girl, now you see why daddy needed to prep you, huh?"

Your drooling hole clenched in anticipation and you reached to grasp his thighs as best you could.

"Mmmh, daddy please..." You mewled rolling your hips desperately. He smirked and the vibrator came to life. You gasped out again and thrust your chest out towards him, the vibrations against your nipple sending pleasure straight down to your lower abdomen.

"Does my sweet girl need daddy's cock inside her?" Aaron placed the small remote down beside him and grasped his length and stroked the tip around your swollen clit and you moaned softly, hands slipping from his thighs to grip onto the bedsheets.

"Please fuck me, daddy! Need to feel you inside mmh.." you begged him and spread your legs wider, so eager for him. A low groan vibrated through Aaron's throat as he leaned down to press a hungry kiss to your throat.

"I don't have a condom, I didn't really expect to need one." He admitted softly. You wrapped your arms around his body and angled your hips upwards.

"I'm clean, on the pill as well."

Another kiss to your throat, then Aaron was pulling away to tease the tip of his cock against your hole. You shivered, gazing up at him through slightly hazy eyes.

"Y-you really want to...yknow..." You trailed off, not wanting to say it. He stilled, tilting his head slightly.

"Of course I want this with you, sweetheart. We'll take it slow, but I promise you I want this so much." Aaron soothed you and you felt a wave of emotion wash over you, tears prickling in your eyes.

"Okay, I believe you."

He smiled softly, before the seductive smirk returned and you could feel a little pressure against your hole.

"Daddy's going to fuck you now, sweet girl. Try and stay relaxed for me, yeah?"

Slowly, inch by inch, you felt the tip of his cock pop inside your clenching hole and both of you gasped at the sensation. Fuck, he was already stretching you wide and this was only the tip. There was a slight burn accommodating the stretch as he slowly slid inside, the veins of his cock teasing you and making you moan softly.

"F-fuck!" You cried out when eventually his hips met yours, his big cock bottoming out inside you. You could feel it twitching.

"Oh, sweet girl. You're squeezing around me so tight." Aaron hissed through gritted teeth. His body was trembling slightly, struggling to maintain control all because of you. He moved the vibrator down your body from your breast and pressed it to your clit. You moaned at the new feeling of being stimulated whilst stuffed with cock, admittedly helping with the pain of the stretch until the discomfort faded, leaving behind a need.

"P-please, please move, daddy..."

Painfully slowly, Aaron pulled his cock out until only the tip remained, before thrusting his hips forward and bottoming out again. You gasped out, eyes blown wide and your hips bucked upwards. He groaned, repeatedly thrusting his cock in and out slowly now.

"Good girl, you're doing so well for me. You feel so good, so wet and soft."

His pace quickened, as did the vibrations of the toy against your clit and you whined, hands moving to cup your breasts and pulling at your nipples. Aaron swore, thrusting roughly when he watched your hands move.

"Fucking good girl, show daddy how you like your pretty tits being touched." He growled, holding the vibrator more firmly against you and with his free hand he grabbed your thigh to press it down into the bed. You matched the movement of your hips to his and continued stimulating your nipples.

"Y-you're so deep inside me, daddy! So big!" You wailed with every thrust, your moans and whimpers growing louder and louder. He growled again, thrusting faster still until you felt yourself closer and closer to cumming again. Aaron knew from the clenching of your walls around his cock, his mouth falling open slightly.

"Are you going to cum again, huh? Gonna cum for daddy again?"

You nodded as you moaned loudly, eyes unseeing as your mind grew hazy with pleasure.

"Yes! Gonna cum! Please let me cum!"

With a harsh few more thrusts stimulating your nerves you cried out loud, eyes focused on Aaron's as you cummed hard, slick dripping onto the bedsheets and coating his cock. You felt so twitchy but Aaron didn't let up, thrusting into you still but moving the vibrator down closer to where you body met his. It was unmoving at this point, however.

"That's it, such a good girl. Daddy wants to try one more thing though," he grunted with the force of his thrusts. You were bordering the line between cumming again and overstimulation, the removal of the vibrations holding you on the verge.

"Do whatever y-you want to me, daddy-" you choked out. You didn't care what he did, you trusted him. Wanted him to play your body in any way he wished at this point. And so when you felt him slow his thrusts down so he could slip in a finger inside you alongside his cock you whined loudly. The finger was gone after a moment, but you hadn't the time to protest when the vibrator replaced his finger, slipping inside you along the top of his cock until it was nestled against the spongy spot on the roof of your hole.

Your eyes widened, a broken moan tumbling from your mouth. Holy fuck, you didn't expect this from your boss of all people. And yet that made it all the more erotic to you. Aaron switched the vibrator back on and he thrusted roughly, teeth gritted and his body shuddering.

"Fuck, this thing is more strong than I expected-" he gritted, holding back from fucking into you again whilst he adjusted to the sensation of the vibrations stimulating him as well. You giggled, only to be cut off when he intentionally thrust forward. "Brat."

Gradually, he picked the pace up again and you became a writhing mess beneath him, moaning and pleading him to move deeper, faster. Aaron gripped your thighs now, both hands free to manhandle you. He pulled your legs up and pressed your knees to your chest, the new angle making your eyes roll back and your pussy to gush.

You were close, and you knew Aaron was reaching his own orgasm at this point with the ferocity of his cock fucking into you. You moved your hand to rub your clit rapidly, your noises pitching higher as you cried his name over and over.

"A-Aaron, I'm gonna cum! Gonna cum- oh!" You wailed, Aaron groaned as he pressed his lips to yours messily, hips stuttering slightly.

"So am I, sweetheart. Want me to pull out?"

"No!" You cried, eyes flicking to his as you grabbed him with the hand that wasn't rubbing your clit. "Want your cum inside me, please!"

It was enough to send you both over the edge, Aaron bottomed out as your back arched, breasts thrust up to his chest as your orgasm ripped through you violently. You heard him moan your name as his cock twitched inside you, ropes and ropes of his cum spurting out inside your clenched pussy. His hand clumsily fumbled for the remote and the vibrations stopped, allowing you both to slowly calm down. Aaron pulled the toy out of you, dropping it onto the bed next to you and made a move to roll off you. You whined in protest, wrapping your limbs around him and pulling him down to lay on top of you, his softening cock still inside.

"Stay..." You mumbled softly. Aaron hummed and kissed you, cupping your cheeks.

"Good girl, are you okay?" He whispered, pulling back just enough to smile at you. You smiled in return, eyes fluttering shut.

"Never felt better, Aaron."

"Good, I'm gonna need to clean you up now though, okay? Need to make sure you're okay."

You pouted, but knew he was right. Still...

"Just a moment more, please?" You opened one eye to look at him, at his beautiful smile. He chuckled and sighed.

"Alright. Only for a moment. Then when I've cleaned you up I'll be right back to cuddle you."

You were beaming now, feeling the happiest you'd been in a long time.

"Promise?"

"Promise. I do have to ask though," Aaron gazed down at you and you raised a brow, prompting him to continue. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You squeaked and moved your hand to cover your eyes whilst you giggled.

"Yes! I'd love nothing more."

Things would be okay, you just knew it.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

There was a change in you the next day, everyone could see it. You were so...cheery, a pep in your step as you boarded the plane with the others. You sat down at the table and curled up on the seat, a giddy smile twitching at the corner of your lips. Derek raised a brow.

"You're pretty happy this morning, sugar." He said. You grinned at him.

"I guess I am."

"Any reason as to why?" Emily cut in, smirking at you. At that moment Aaron approached the seat next to you and sat down, sending you a soft smile with a raised brow and you had to hold back a giggle, looking away from him.

"Nope." You responded. Under the table Aaron took hold of your hand and squeezed. You'd never expected an undercover job as intense as this would result in a new chapter in your life, but you wouldn't change a single thing.

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑

And that's it! Thank you all so, so much for joining me for this lil series 😭💖 it's been a hell of a time writing it but it was so much fun! I really hope you all enjoyed this final installment 🥺🥺💖💖

Taglist: @cr1minalskies @modern-mermaid @aaronhotchnersgirlfriend @aaronhotchswife @emptybagofchips77 @crimeshowjunkie @igotanidea @gogococopuffs @prentissesredtanktop @louderfortheback @howabouticallyou @lalalove-56 @abbyschmaby @constantwritingblock @boredelle @powerlvr25 @aad199 @idkbubs @mrs-ssa-hotch @emptybagofchips77 @justarandommom @yourmomsmilfmistress @bellagomez-barriga @jesuisbenny @nplumb22 @supercriminalbean @elijahmikaelsonbitch @wowzabowza69 @frostingway @simpingfortoomanypeople @munsonsposts @marvelsmistress @babezawa @spenciesprincess @creepysweetie @bruhhvv @regulus-black-223048 @brasspistol @0nex-is-dead0 @livingdeadmak @myescapefromthislife @sebastiansstanswhore @bumblebea-xo @hangmandruigandmav @sareim123122 @magical-spit

[coloursflyaway]

So uh, in the wake of the cancellation news I’ve been re reading your dbda fanfics.

Not sure if you’re planning on writing more but if you are, have you considered something where Charles meets Desire of the Endless? It’s something a lot of people have talked about for S2 and since we might not actually get to see it on screen, I’d love to see your interpretation of it. Anyway, even though the cancellation news makes me really sad I have so much love to you and all the creators in this little community 💗

Hi anon ♥♥

I know, I was so sad about the news of the show being cancelled 😭 they absolutely would have deserved to get at least one more season!!

And here you go, I had a lot of fun with this!

---

The world falls away, turns red and plastic and velvet, and where Edwin had been, looking through a spellbook they had recently acquired, a person sits that Charles has never seen before. They are tall, slender, graceful, their platinum blonde hair coiffed so perfectly that Charles can’t help but wonder how it would feel to push his hands through it.

“Well, well, well”, blood-red lips drawl, one corner rising. “You have left me waiting for far too long, so I thought I would make time for a formal introduction.”

The person rises, alluring and cat-like in their elegance, and Charles has to suppress a shudder; part of him wants to run away, part of him wants to get closer. There is something woven into every motion of their body, a siren song, and Charles feels himself grow weaker to it with every second he spends in their presence.

“Who are you?”, he grits out, thinks of Edwin and how confused he must be, thinks of Crystal and Niko and Jenny, thinks of everything but this. “What do you want from me?”

The figure laughs softly, musically, and takes another step towards him, so that Charles can make out the gold of their eyes, framed by heavy lashes and kohl.

“They call me Desire”, they answer, like they are indulging a child, then hold out their hand, like they expect Charles to kiss it. “And I know just who you are, Charles Rowland. You and your little friend, the one who looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. It would be quite adorable, had I not been watching it for the past few decades.”

“What do you want with Edwin? You don’t touch him, I swear, or I’ll-”, Charles starts, a fire burning in his chest that he only knows from situations like this, when someone, or something, is threatening the best friend he has ever had.

And yet, his body moves by itself, hand coming up to grasp Desire’s in his, spine bending, lips pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it; the touch is brief and yet it makes his skin tingle, pleasure sparking in his palms, his lips, his fingernails.

“Absolutely nothing”, Desire tells him, pulling back a hand Charles didn’t realise he was still holding; his skin misses the touch immediately, even if Charles hates the thought of it. “It’s my dear sister who has taken an interest in him. I would never interfere in her affairs like this.”

They cock their head, and their gaze is so heavy it feels like a physical touch, half a caress, half fingernails dragging down Charles’ skin, both leaving a mark on what feels like his very soul.

“And me?”, he asks, even though he knows he doesn’t want to hear the answer.

Desire smiles, fingertips and claws trailing down Charles’ spine, and leans in until Charles is enveloped by their aura, their intensity, which all but feels like a scalding bath, almost smells like cedarwood and smoke and honey, sounds close to violins and gravel and the song of planets circling the sun.

“Oh, you”, they breathe out, and Charles cannot suppress the shudder, doesn’t know if he wants to anymore. “You already belong to me.”

[tenderleavesbob]

Whumptober 18/31

No. 18: Alternate Vermin

Warriors kept fading in and out of consciousness. Wild didn’t know if it was because of the head wound or the blood loss. He moaned when Wild jostled him too much. Wild flinched every time. He had his Slate back, and it didn’t mean a thing. It was packed with potions, none of which he dared use. 

What made everything worse was when Warriors grabbed his hand in a half-coherent moment and squeezed it. Their hands were stained red. Warriors’s smile was dazed and sweet. “ ‘re doin’ good,” he slurred. “It’ll be ‘kay.”

He faded away again before Wild could even try to answer. Wild wanted to throw his head back and scream.

When he was a knight, did he know how to handle a wound like this? Had he forgotten something which could save Warriors’s life now?

Warriors wasn’t bleeding through the bandage, but he also didn’t look any better. Wild clumsily tried to clean the dried blood and debris from Warriors’s hair as he thought. Was it better to look for the others and risk moving Warriors or stay here and hope the others found them? They were looking. He knew the others wouldn’t stop until they were found. Any other time, that would give Wild a warm feeling.

“I’m going to take care of you, Captain,” Wild whispered. “I promise --”

Wild paused and looked at the walls. He could have sworn he heard noises. Was it the others? Were they close?

No. It didn’t sound Hylian or even lupine. He frowned and flicked his ears. They were soft, almost frantic noises. Wild couldn’t even tell where they were coming from. There was the door beside them, which Wild guessed Warriors had come through. Considering how he looked, Wild had no interest in seeing what was beyond it. Maybe there were more tunnels like he came through?

Something poked out of the wall. Wild tensed. He hadn’t been expecting that.

The small, gray thing twitched. Not taking his eyes off of it, Wild flicked through his Slate, settling on the weapons’ screen. His finger hovered over a broadsword.

The thing twitched again. As Wild watched, an odd looking rat stepped out of the wall. Wild exhaled and let his shoulders slump. It didn’t look like the rats from his era, but he guessed it wasn’t too surprising that there would be rats in the dungeon. Wild resumed cleaning Warriors’s hair as the rat crept closer. To his disgust, it began lapping at Warriors’s blood on the floor.

Awful but manageable. At least, until the other rats began emerging from the wall.

All of them were like the first: similar to the rats of his era but something off about their proportions. Their nails and teeth seemed too big, their eyes too sharp as they circled the blood. The scrabbling from the walls continued, and Wild realized with growing horror that there were more. One of them moved away from the others, pointed nose to the ground as it followed the blood to its source. With a curse, Wild kicked it away. It flew back with a yelp.

All of the other rats stopped. In one eerie motion, they all raised their heads and looked at Wild and Warriors. The blood drained from Wild’s face.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Wild breathed. He hooked his Slate to his belt and grabbed Warriors. “We need to move.”

One of the rats chittered. It sounded less animalistic and more like an awful, garbled parody of speech. The others responded, large ears and long tails flicking.

“We need to move now.” Warriors was lighter without his armor but still too heavy for Wild to carry. He grabbed Warriors’s arm instead and threw it over his shoulders, hoisting the man upward. Warriors’s pained cry echoed through the hall. The chitters grew louder. The walls sounded alive around them.

“We need to move, we need to move,” Wild chanted, half-running, half-stumbling down the hall. Warriors’s eyes were closed but his legs were awkwardly moving like a newborn colt’s. He made soft, endless noises of pain close to Wild’s ear as Wild dragged him along. The rats followed at their heels and through the walls, their long nails clicking on stone. Their faces were painted red with Warriors’s blood.

“Rulie didn’t mention this!” Wild panted. A rat nipped his heel. Wild kicked it away and forced his shaking legs to move faster. 

Shining eyes watched him from the hole in the wall. Wild didn’t look back. He didn’t dare. 

There was a stone door in front of them. As they approached it, it opened with a low groan. Wild pushed himself to his limit. It sounded like there was an army of rats behind them.

I’ll save you, Wild thought.

Then there was only a blinding light.

First | Previous | Next

[elexuscal]

lay down neither your heads nor your swords

summary: Temeraire's bill does not pass. Laurence consoles him. (read on ao3) -------------------

Though it had been almost four years since the end of the war, there still was not many spaces within London which would fit a dragon of his size. He could have retired in Hyde Park, but that would have been exposed to the public, and he very much did not wish to face them, just now. Even here, in the London covert, having so many friends and acquaintances flying by constantly, their voices a babble, was nearly too much.

Thankfully, his mood must have been plain from how he laid sprawled on the cold flat stone ground, his ruff drooping, his eyes half-lidded. No one tried to speak to him, nor tried to bother him.

Almost no one.

There came the soft padding noise of boots upon the flagstone. Temeraire did not turn towards them.

"My dear, will you not come eat? I will admit to prevailing myself upon the cook, and it was one of your favourites— braised beef on rice, with those Incan chilies you are so partial to—"

"I am not hungry," Temeraire said.

Laurence's hand came to rest upon his muzzle, a bloom of warmth which somehow always seemed larger than it was. "I am sorry, Temeraire," he said. "It was a painful defeat, to be sure, even if not wholly unexpected. But—"

"No!" Temeraire exclaimed, interrupting, raising his head at last, ruff erect. "No buts! This loss should not have been expected, no matter what you all say. It should not have happened at all!"

Laurence's face was filled with horrible sympathy. "My dear--"

"Our bill was excellent," Temeraire pressed on. "Not perfect, surely, we made concessions; certainly, we made concessions! But nonetheless, the core of it was unaltered— That core was well-crafted—

It would have made material improvements across such a vast swathe of policies. For women, for immigrants, for dragons, for the poor—"

"I know," Laurence said.

"No one could have voted against it! No one of any sense, at least!" And then he drooped; his head, his tail, his body entire. "But they did vote against it. Even Pertinax, and he is a dragon." That, more than anything, baffled Temeraire, baffled him so badly that betrayal was a distant second emotion. He had thought— it had seemed obvious— that having more dragons in Parliment ought to strengthen their coalition.

Laurence stepped closer, until his entire side was pressed against Temeraire's chest. Temeraire could not see him at such an angle, but that made the conversation somehow easier. "Men do not always vote according to what will bring the most material benefit to the greatest number or the most deserving. They vote in accordance to their own interests, or that of their friends, and do not look very far past their own noses, I am afraid." He sighed. "And even those who do so without any true selfishness or malice, may nonetheless vote out of ignorance, or upon gut feeling, and in doing so cut off their own nose to spite the face."

Temeraire growled, and could not even make himself fully dampen the resonance of the divine wind within it. "Then they are fools."

To this, Laurence had no answer and no argument.

They stood like that for a long while. Laurence still and solemn, Temeraire staring forward, his only movement the lashing of his tail.

It could have been a minute; it could have been fifteen— Temeraire did not know. But he said, "What now?"

"We— we take stock," Laurence said. "We take time to recover; today, tomorrow, perhaps even a week. Then we return to the drawing board. Re-word the Bill, or begin drafting a new one entirely. Reach out to our constituents, make arrangements with our allies, and institute what improvements we can, in those spheres where we still have influence." He hesitated, and said, "As you well know, it was a long, hard political battle against the slave trade. With each loss, it seemed the wind threatened to desert the movement's sails. But my Father never gave up, nor his allies, and eventually, they prevailed."

Temeraire peered down at Laurence, somewhat concerned, for he had never liked to speak much upon his father; even less so, since his death. But on this one subject, the two had no quarrelled, and there was no grief in his companion's eyes, only steel. "Yes," Temeraire said, slowly.

"And, if I may—" Laurence ran his hand down the length of Temeraire's forelimb, hesitating. "If I may. I was never in the House of Parliament, nor the House of Lords, nor any other similar office. But if I had, then a decade ago, I have good reason to believe... I have good reason to believe the man I was then would have voted against your Bill." "Laurence," Temeraire said, and though he very much wished to argue, he did not. He recalled how queer Laurence had been, without his memories, and spoken on the subject, once or twice, with Tharkay, and with Granby. He had been a very difference person, once, before Temeraire had hatched.

For a moment, Laurence hung his head. "I am ashamed to say it. Ashamed to even think upon it." But then he looked up. "But my opinions have shifted; and shifted for the better, I do think. Let me stand as hope that anyone's perspective can be so transformed, if only given the correct knowledge and support."

Stretching out his neck, Temeraire nuzzled against Laurence's body. "If that is true, then let us be the ones who give it."

Again they stood, embraced, for some time. Temeraire did not wish to think, but still the thoughts came. There could be no outrunning them.

Nor the pains in his stomach. "I suppose I must eat, after all," he said, though his mouth felt leaden.

"Yes," Laurence said. "Please do, my dear." So Temeraire did. And despite everything, the chilies were still very fine.

[under-the-dirt]

water.

HIHIHIIHI!!! it’s my first time writing smut!!!!! (except the one time i wrote something for manwich but we don’t talk abt that <3) and i’m sossosososososso nervous!!! but, i’m obsessed w the idea so hopefully i can get it out into the world!!!

pairing: soap x reader

tags: implied fem!reader (sorryz!), shower sex, dom!soap, sub!reader, a little dacryphillia, soap is a meanie, established relationship (ig that’s like all my fics so far lmao), pet names, praise, degredation, aftercare, obviously smut, orgasm denial (only once :3), overstim, uhhhhh idk what else to out!! UNDER 13 DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF I SEE YOU’RE UNDER 13 AND STILL INTERACTING!!!

You had to admit, you’d been a bit of a brat that day. You were horny and Soap was just working and refusing to help!

So, you decided to take a shower to “blow off steam” if you will..

Sitting on the shower floor, the water running down your face as your fingers rubbed desperate circles on your clit. You’d been like this for at least 2 minutes, and you didn’t even feel close to anything! You let out a soft whine, although it came out as a breathy moan far louder than you intended, getting the attention of your boyfriend.

“Ah, ‘aving fun wi’out me lassie?” Soap asks, his accent echoing through the small bathroom. You freeze in fear and apprehension, as you’ve almost never had to masturbate since the two of you started dating.

“You were ignoring me!” You whine, removing your hands from between your legs and bringing them to your side. You squeeze your thighs shut, looking up at him with doe-eyes and blush on your cheeks. He huffs, and you hear his clothes hit the floor. Your eyes widen and your blush spreads further.

“Aw, but you ‘aven’t even gotten anywhere?” He teases, stepping inside the shower and standing over you, dwarfing your entire body on the ground. He laughs, looking down at you with mock pity. You stand up and pout slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “We can’t ‘ave that now can we, lass?” He purrs, removing your arms from your chest and crossing your wrists, bringing them above your head with one hand.

Your eyes light up, excited to finally get this attention, and you feel the throb between your legs grow from what it had been all day. You whine softly, and he hums in response, pressing a thumb to your clit and rubbing ever so gently. Not enough to get you off, no, just enough so you know he’s there. You squirm and whimper softly.

“All desperate, aren’, we, little brat?” He laughs, removing his hand and pressing his knee between your thighs to keep your legs spread. You try to move your hips and ride his thigh, but he tuts and slaps your thigh. “Not yet lassie.”

“Sir, please!!” You beg, and he chuckles. Your eyes tear up in desperation, unable to move and squirm or get the friction you’re so desperate for. He moves his knee a little higher, ensuring your pussy is exposed to the open air.

“Oh, such a pretty thing. All for me, yeah lass? ‘s all mine?” He says, running a thumb through your slick folds.

“Y-yes! All for you, please!” You whine, attempting to squirm, and he grabs your hip tight enough to bruise. When you begin to feel water on your sensitive pussy, you get confused. Wasn’t he blocking the water? Looking down, you see Johnny holding the showerhead to your cunt, and looking up you see him staring at you with an almost sadistic smirk.

You begin moaning as he angles the water to hit your clit perfectly, a constant barrage against your sensitive bundle of nerves and you can’t take it. You mewl, moan and whine, and to no avail! He just moves the showerhead closer, sending shockwaves through your body that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Please- please Johnny! Sir, please,” You beg between breathless moans and soft whimpers, and he tuts again.

“What ‘re you wantin’ lass?” He asks with faux sympathy, and you sob softly.

“Want your cock- pleasepleaseplease!!” You continue whining, feeling your brain turning off as pleasure takes over.

“Hmm.. I don’t think a little brat like you should get my cock,” He states simply, and you sob, tears rolling down your cheeks and droll running from your mouth. “Oh stop cryin’. All you’re gettin’ is this, so you better cum.”

You attempt to squirm, which has him gripping your hip harder and changing the setting on the shower head, intensifying the attack against your clit. You cry and moan, beginning to feel that knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. Your eyes roll back, and he clearly doesn’t like this.

“No, look at me, brat,” He commands, and you have no choice but to oblige. You maintain eye contact, somehow, with your doe-like eyes and breathless moans and whimpers. Your mouth is open in a pretty ‘o’ shape, and he chuckles.

He presses the showerhead closer, and you know he can tell you’re close.

“Mmh- sir can- can i?” You ask sweetly, broken up by your moans and gasps.

“Can you what? Use your words, bonnie” He coos.

“Ca- Can i cum, please?” You say breathlessly, praying he’ll say yes as you feel the knot drawing tighter and tighter.

“Hmm.. Not yet.”

You whine louder, soft sobs breaking up desperate whimpers. After what felt like a century, he decides to ease your pain.

“‘right lassie, go on, cum for me.” He rubs your hip with his thumb, and you immediately cum so hard you see stars behind your eyelids. He does it again, and again, until your legs are shaking and chest heaving. He finally decides to stop, turning off the shower and picking up your exhausted body. He steps out, grabbing two towels, using one to dry you off and another to dry himself. He wraps his towel around his waist before picking you up again and carrying you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the soft blankets as you so desperately wanted.

“Johnny.. what.. what about you?” You ask gently, innocently, gesturing to the tent in his towel which must be painful at this point.

“Aw, don’t worry about me, sweet darling.” He coos, sliding on sweatpants and climbing into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and holding your back to his chest. He kisses your neck and shoulder, rubbing your stomach gently.

OMGEEEZIESSSS!!! that was my first time writing smut and i think it was pretty decent but pleasepleaseplease lmk what i could improve on! keep in mind i have no real life experience so idk how realistic it is :[ also i hope the anon who had this idea finds this!! <3333

@bunnyreaper

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Five

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Five: One Hell of an Inquiry

Summary: The investigation continues, and Sebastian and (Y/N) have to amuse themselves while the case stalls.

            “I offer you this pledge and ask that you be my drudge, Ciel Phantomhive.”

            “I humbly accept.”

            The plan had worked. Ciel was one step closer to the P4 and discovering the inner workings of Weston College—secrets and all.

l

            Ciel groaned as he collapsed in the armchair in Sebastian’s office. The entire day he’d been mobbed by classmates that were impressed with how quickly he became Clayton’s drudge.

            “I feel like I’ve become an opera singer or something,” he sighed.

            Sebastian chuckled. “Your masterful performances here have been quite splendid as of late. Why not continue in this fashion and aim to be an actor instead?”

            “If you’re in the mood to make cutting remarks, I’m ready for you,” grumbled Ciel.

            “Far from it!” Sebastian smiled brightly. “I was offering you my heartfelt praise.”

            “That’s even worse!” exclaimed Ciel.

            “Well, you did play the P4 perfectly. It seems they cannot resist dealing out justice and seeing someone act honorably,” said (Y/N). Their lips quirked upward in a smirk. “What an exploitable weakness.”

            “And yet I am nowhere closer to my ultimate goal,” said Ciel, frustrated. “The Queen’s orders were that I investigate the reasons why a number of students, including her blood relationship Derrick Arden, have shut themselves up in this school and broken off all contact with the outside world.”

            “However, we have not been able to lay eyes on them,” said Sebastian.

            “No, not a single one,” said (Y/N). Their nose twitched. “This situation clearly has more to it than we’ve seen.”

            Ciel nodded. “I thought I’d compel them to return home by force, but the Queen bade me to simply ‘investigate the reasons why.’ Most definitely, she is aware that this situation is not the result of youthful rebellion on the part of the students. As (Y/N) said, something peculiar is going on at this school.” He leaned back with a grumble. “However, the school is enslaved to its own rules, and I can’t even make the necessary inquiries. It’s like I’m a prisoner!”

            “But is that not why you re attempting to get into the good graces of the prefects, the keepers of the rules, Young Master?” remarked Sebastian as he poured tea for Ciel and (Y/N). “And by employing much more peaceful methods than usual as well.”

            (Y/N) smothered a chuckle as they took a sip of tea. Ciel fought off an irk mark.

            “True, but I’m still only the drudge of the prefect’s drudge,” said Ciel. “In my position, I can’t take part in the ‘Midnight Tea Party’ hosted by the Headmaster.”

            (Y/N) nodded. They had heard about the Tea Party, and it was clearly prestigious and secretive. Because they had not been able to make any contact with the Headmaster, they absolutely needed to as soon as possible. His absence was suspicious,

            “It would seem you still have a long road ahead,” said (Y/N).

            “At least I’ve finally made it into the P4 Entourage,” said Ciel. “I’ll try sounding out the P4 directly about Derrick.”

            “Yes,” said Sebastian, nodding. “And in all likelihood, the most useful information lies with the house into which Lord Derrick was transferred.”

            “Violet Wolf,” agreed (Y/N). “And it’s prefect, Gregory Violet.”

l

            “Housemaster Michaelis, Housemaster Noir,” said a fellow housemaster, approaching the pair as they were grading assignments from their classes. “How are you?”

            “We’re doing very well,” said (Y/N) pleasantly, smiling.

            “Merely getting some work done,” said Sebastian.

            “Excellent!” said the housemaster, nodding to them. “I just wanted to say good luck this year. It will be your first time assisting with coaching the Interhouse Cricket Tournament.”

            “Yes, it is,” said (Y/N). Sebastian and they had made sure to do their research on such activities so that they were prepared for all their duties as housemasters.

            “And Sapphire Owl never wins—or, almost never—so, good luck,” said the housemaster. He smiled cheerfully. “It��s still good fun!” He nodded to them and walked off.

            (Y/N) hummed and tilted their head. “This could be useful…”

            “Indeed?” remarked Sebastian, prompting them to continue.

            They smirked. “You saw the rules—the most valuable player of the tournament is invited to the Midnight Tea Party.”

            Sebastian smirked, teeth flashing like a predator ready to lunge. “Precisely the opportunity we need.”

            (Y/N) sighed. “The only problem with the tournament is that outsiders are invited to the celebrations before and after, and that means the Midfords will be present.”

            Sebastian grimaced. Francis in particular was a force to be reckoned with, even for him, and he’d prefer to avoid her. Additionally…they could recognize (Y/N) and Sebastion. Hopefully, she’d see that they were there on duty with Ciel and refrain from identifying them…

            (Y/N) sighed. “As long as Lady Midford or Marquess Midford are kept from speaking up by Marchioness Midford, we should be alright…” They frowned. “However, if I’m caught dressing like a man, that could prove confusing.”

            “More likely, they’ll all be beguiled by your good looks,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) gave him a deadpan look. “Unlikely in the case of Marchioness Midford.”

            “However, she recognizes when the Queen’s Guard Dog is at work, so she’ll likely overlook the supposed ‘impropriety,’ ” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) nodded. Fortunately, that was the turn recognition would likely take.

            “For now, we should focus on gathering information,” said Sebastian. “If we can, we could discover why Arden and the other students were transferred.”

            “And where the Headmaster is,” agreed (Y/N).

            “I shall inquire with Vice Headmaster Agares,” said Sebastian, rising from his chair.

            “Then I shall inquire with the other Headmasters,” said (Y/N), standing.

            “Shall we reconvene later?” said Sebastian, raising a brow and smirking.

            “To share our discoveries or for something else?” said (Y/N), eyes filled with amusement.

            “Why not both?” teased Sebastian.

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Insatiable demon,” they said.

            “Tempting darling,” returned Sebastian.

l

            “Derrick Arden?” repeated Agares.

            “Yes. I am worried because he has failed to attend classes for some time,” said Sebastian, smiling pleasantly.

            “You even extend your concern to the students of other houses, do you?” said Agares.

            “The house in which a student resides is of no import to me,” said Sebastian.

            “He was an excellent student,” said Agares.

            “Oh? Then why was his house assignment changed?” said Sebastian.

            “I don’t know. It was the Headmaster’s decision,” said Agares, formal and voice unvaried as ever.

            “Perhaps his truancy can be attributed to the shock of the transfer?” suggested Sebastian.

            “I could not say,” said Agares. “It was the Headmaster’s decision—”

            Agares tripped and fell down the stairs. Even Sebastian jumped at the sudden tumble.

            “Mr. Agares?” he said in surprise. He moved down the stairs after Agares. “Are you alright?”

            “Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me,” said Agares. Blood dripped from beneath his cap.

            “Shall I take you to the infirmary?” said Sebastian, assisting him to his feet. He paused as he smelled the blood and sensed something strange within it. He narrowed his eyes. Undoubtedly, something was going on at this school, and everyone was hiding it.

l

            “How unfortunate that I cannot find Arden,” said (Y/N), sighing as they shook their head. “I worry that he is falling behind on his studies.”

            The housemaster they spoke to averted his eyes from theirs. “The Headmaster always makes the best decision for students.” He smiled. “Though your worry is commendable.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and the housemaster looked away as he looked at the attractive person before him. “Well, thank you for trying to help,” they said. “I am so glad to know that other housemasters are worried for students at Weston College.” They smirked. “They only hire the best, after all.”

            “Y-Yes,” said the housemaster, fighting off nervous red cheeks.

l

            (Y/N) entered the library in the dead of night, and instantly, someone appeared behind them and wrapped a hand around their waist while closing the door.

            “Hello, darling,” said Sebastian.

            “My love, we have a job to do first,” said (Y/N), smiling and rolling their eyes. “Did you discover anything from Mr. Agares?”

            “No,” said Sebastian, trailing one hand up (Y/N)’s body to their chin. He tilted their head back and kissed them. “He insisted it was the Headmaster’s decision, and that was all.”

            “The housemasters I spoke to said the same,” said (Y/N), kissing him again.

            “Hm,” said Sebastian, pushing aside the collar of (Y/N)’s robes to kiss their neck. “I did sense something strange with Mr. Agares, however.”

            “Oh?” hummed (Y/N), sighing as he kissed them.

            They lifted a hand and laced their fingers through his hair. With his hand around their waist keeping them flush against him and their hand keeping his head close, if they were found, it would be quite the intimate picture.

            “His blood…It is different than a regular human’s,” said Sebastian.

            “How odd. So many layers to this mystery,” said (Y/N), eyes closing as Sebastian’s hand on their waist trailed up.

            “I think there are other layers to concern yourself with,” said Sebastian, pulling (Y/N)’s robes from their shoulders.

            “Indeed,” said (Y/N), smirking and arching back into him. They pulled his collar open and kissed his neck. “Yours.”

            Sebastian smirked positively devilishly and spun them around to devour their lips in a kiss. (Y/N) eagerly kissed him back, reaching up and using the cross around his neck to pull him closer.

            Sebastian groaned at the roughness. Oh, how he loved Felis.

            (Y/N) smirked against his lips before kissing him again. They truly loved Corvus, every aspect of him.

l

            (Y/N) brushed the dust from Sebastian’s robes, and he rebuttoned their shirt, hands trailing on their skin as he did.

            “Corvus,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes with a smirk.

            “Felis,” said Sebastian playfully, smirking as he redid their tie. He pulled it tight and then pulled them in. He kissed them and lingered for a moment. (Y/N) kissed him back.

            The door to the library creaked open, and the pair stepped apart. They had been expecting Ciel at this time, so it was time to get to work once more after a “recreational” pause.

            “Sebas—”

            (Y/N) and Sebastian sensed another soul approaching, and Sebastian grabbed Ciel. He tucked him beneath his robes, and (Y/N) grabbed a book of Latin to “discuss” with Housemaster Michaelis.

            The door opened again, and Bluewer entered. He looked around suspiciously, and Sebastian raised a brow.

            “What are you doing here at this hour?” asked Sebastian, all pleasantness.

            Bluewer hesitated, uncomfortable as the attention of the room fell on him.

            “Well, we can hardly expect our prefect to not be hard at work,” said (Y/N), smiling. “After all, just as we ensure we are prepared for every lesson, so does Mr. Bluewer. He is a model student.”

            Bluewer didn’t reply and just nodded shortly. “I was looking for a book.”

            “Which one?” said (Y/N).

            Bluewer’s eyes went the one in their hand, and (Y/N) nearly laughed. How foolish to choose that one. It was so obviously suspicious.

            “That one. However, I can see it is in use,” said Bluewer formally. He nodded to them. “Pardon me, Mr. Michaelis, Mr. Noir.”

            “You’re excused, Bluewer,” said Sebastian.

            Bluewer turned and left. The door closed behind him, and Sebastain pulled his robes from Ciel’s head.

            “Pardon me for being rough, but it seemed as though you were being followed,” said Sebastian.

            “Guess I’ve done one too many things to stand out,” said Ciel. “But sniffing around was useless. No matter what I asked, the ultimate response was always, ‘It was the Headmaster’s decision.’ ”

            “The staff replied the same way as well,” said (Y/N).

            “The staff, too, hm?” said Ciel, frowning. “We’re getting nowhere like this.” He narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. “Well, if that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll have to use whatever means necessary to make contact with Derrick directly.” He walked to the window of the library and pushed it open. “Come on, Sebastian, (Y/N).”

            “But, Young Master, are you not sure to be penalized with two Ys if you leave your house at this time of night?” said Sebastian.

            “Isn’t it the masters who mete out punishments to the students?” said Ciel, rolling his eyes. “Mr. Michaelis, sir?”

            “Ah. Yes, you are correct,” said Sebastian, smiling with closed eyes.

            (Y/N) smirked.

l

            Sebastian, (Y/N), and Ciel stood outside the gates to Violet Wolf House. The gothic architecture in dark colors rose upon the hill, dark against the inky blackness of night. The only lights were the few lanterns near the house and the one Sebastian held.

            “This house is even more atmospheric at night,” said Ciel.

            “Well? How will you meet with Lord Derrick?” said Sebastian. “You are forbidden from entering the other houses.”

            “Sneaking it and being caught will undoubtedly end our investigation,” said (Y/N). They were hoping they’d get to do something exciting in this school for once—outside of sneaking around with Sebastian.

            “Will you be relying on our powers?” said Sebastian, smirking. He, too, wished for some amusement.

            Ciel huffed and took the lantern from Sebastian. “I don’t even have to go as far as to depend on you two. If I can’t get into his house, I just have to get him to come out.”

            He wound up and threw the lantern towards the house. It crashed through a window and broke on the floor within. Flames leapt up from within Violet Wolf House, dousing the mysterious house in the bright light of burning destruction.

            “Are you aware of Article 87 of Weston College’s school regulations?” said Ciel, smirking.

            “ ‘In case of an emergency, such as the onset of a fire or other calamity, within the school buildings or houses, all students must promptly evacuate to the schoolyard and answer to the roll call taken by the prefect,’ ” quoted (Y/N). They smirked. What an excellent plan.

            “Your conduct is deserving of expulsion if you are found out, Phantomhive,” said Sebastian with a smirk. “But as the Queen’s Guard Dog, your actions are deserving of great praise, Young Master.”

            “Prefect Bluewer was right,” said Ciel, smirking. “I should know the school regulations by heart.” He crossed his arms in satisfaction. “I look forward to seeing what kind of fellow he is. We’ll meet at last, eh, Derrick Arden?”

            (Y/N) grinned with a mischievous glint in their eyes as they watched the flames rise in Violet Wolf House. Finally, some excitement at Weston College.

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[ghostybat00]

Looks from... close up? Part 3🫀

Nikto yandere.

Tw:Nikto being intimidating , unwanted touch, kidnap, reader experimenting anxiety.

I do not support these behaviors in real life, this is fiction. Idk if this is quite short, srry.

🫀:Seeing the seriousness of that superior immediately made you settle into the comfortable desk chair. You spoke, "That Russian soldier? nikto?, for what reason?" The superior sighed a little, and with a serious voice he spoke "I have been noticing strange behavior from that soldier, do you know why he always, every day, every week comes with you?" He asked, raising a eyebrown. You froze for a second, you were somewhat stunned as you didn't know if telling the truth would lead to you getting in trouble , you didn't have the courage to respond with words, you simply shook your head, you swallowed dryly, you were getting anxious, a part of you wanted to blurt out those words that that soldier seemed to harass you,but something inside you didn't have the courage.

The superior seemed distrustful of such words, he simply gave you a hard look and asked again in a more severe voice. "Are u sure?, If there is something that is happening and I am not aware of it for some reason there could be problems." You denied again, the superior sighed again in frustration, he simply left the infirmary, waving with his hand.

You were shaking, an argument inside your head against yourself started, on one hand you wanted to vomit everything that had happened, but another part did not have the courage.

11 at night.

You were exhausted after this busy day, the even worse side is that you still felt watched like every damn week you've been in this strange base, but today Nikto didn't come, which was strange but grateful that for a day not having to deal with him, you went out to the base patio for a bit, cigarette in hand, You felt a little of momentary peace when you felt the cold night air, you stretched a little, you turned on the cigarette and put it to your lips, you looked at the moon thoughtfully, what would have happened if you had told the superior? What is this feeling of feeling observed? who is the stalker? Your head began to spin, leading to thoughts and fictitious scenarios that you didn't want to think about so as not to stress you out more, You sighed, threw the cigarette on the concrete floor and then stepped on it with your boot, deciding to re-enter the interior of the base.

Passing through the lockers that you always had to pass to get to your infirmary, you felt a heavy and overwhelming presence behind, which quickly cornered you in a nearby locker, grabbing your two wrists together with a strong and masculine hand, before you could scream or make a sound, another hand also covered your mouth. It was Nikto, he saw you with that terrifying and threatening look, it was so terrifying, those blue eyes so empty, that mask so fucking strange, and his great height and muscle body, He looked at you for a few seconds, he got closer to you and with that deep voice says, closer to you ear that You can feel and smell his breath. "Why are you getting so close to the superior? We are not happy". You started to break out in a cold sweat, you tried to move or at least kick him with your legs, he but quickly moved his leg between your crotch, completely immobilizing you. ""Answer us, pretty doctor."

Seeing obviously no response he started to rub his leg closer to you crotch . ""We have done everything to make you notice us, so you pay us like this?" He said, his voice lower and more serious. What he mean by that? What is he going to do? You stared at him in terror, he tilted his head a little, Without letting you react, he put a handful of an old cloth in your mouth, with a smell of chloroform. with the other hand continuing to hold your wrists together, the other hand began to slowly grope your waist and hip, you could see the look full of madness in him, with luck playing against you, the chloroform began to act, quickly taking you into a state of unconsciousness, your body unconscious fell on your back, which made him grab you, the bag of his belt with equipment a rope enough to tie both your wrists, the same with your legs, he threw you over his shoulder and started walking towards the parking lot.

You woke up in a basement, tied to a chair, the basement was cold, the only light was a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it seemed to sway and threaten to fall and crash at any moment.

You panicked, struggling against the ropes that kept you incapacitated, but it was useless, it was a professional tie-up, you wouldn't escape from this chair without a fucking sharp object to undo the ropes. The door made a horrible squeak, being opened, a Nikto still dressed in the military uniform, he approached you slowly, his heavy footsteps echoing, he whispers in your ear, "We have plans for you, pretty doctor". He said menacingly, moving his hand up and down your thigh.

(I think the last part is going to be part 4, anyway, thanks for reading.)