#but i could never quite get it to work the way i wanted so it never made it to my docs folder

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 14 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: Life with him is really good...Right?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder/gore/death, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation and low self-esteem, mentions of sexual activities, loss of identity, threatening, penetration, breeding kink, degradation kink, cockwarming, edging, overstimulation, sleepy sex (both consent!), not beta-read, if I've missed any warnings or tags please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Life was good.

Uncharacteristically so even.

There was still a tiny part of you that was tense around him and that was for various reasons. One of them being, that you never really knew when his evil persona would take over. So far you could tell, albeit roughly, but there were always moments, when he would simply snap and there was nothing you could do about it. Was that a problem? Probably, but not to you, anyways. Why? Because life was good.

The little trip to the balcony hadn’t been a one-time thing. In fact, it happened more and more regular. Not only to get naughty, because he was a freak, who liked the thought of possibly getting caught – but also because, as he said, you’ve been such a good girl for me all this time. And I told you, sweet girl, I don’t want to keep you locked away. I just needed to make sure you’re mine.

That you were. Quite obviously.

That one time when you told him you wanted to leave, it had been exactly that. One time. The reasons for that outburst were in the past so far. There were still moments when you feared punishment and rightfully so. But to your great relief, you were both learning.

You were learning not to expect a painful blow, whenever you went out of your way to speak your mind (which wasn’t quite as often as you wished, but you were getting there). Slow and steady.

And he? He was learning, too. He was learning to leave you be and control the wild beast that lived inside his mind and soul. The darkness that surrounded him became lighter every day or so it felt to you. Of course he wouldn’t let you downright insult him, without at least some punishment in sight. But he was working on himself and his behavior. He didn’t hurt you without a reason. He didn’t hurt severely. And on some lucky days, he didn’t hurt you at all.

Slow and steady.

What was probably the greatest part of it all, it felt like a relationship. A real one. Two people who shared a life together, doing all kinds of things, sharing an intimate relation, but most importantly, you talked.

You talked a lot.

And now it wasn’t only through games and the fear of punishment. It wasn’t even only you who was forced to talk. No, he talked as well. The important things were still a big issue, obviously. He didn’t have a name, an identity or a past, when it came to you. But you had the great, undying hope that one day he would trust you. Trust you enough to let you know who he was and where he came from, what made him who he was and what was truly important to him.

Sometimes you’d get those tiny, little flickers that shone through his façade, his tight mask. The moments when the look in his eyes became faraway and distant, when his voice became softer and the tension in his body gave way to something quiet. Maybe one day that would be the version of him that you would get. Entirely and without question. Without the filter to rule out his emotions for him.

Until then, though, you would make do with what you had. And what did you have?

His favorite movie? The good, the bad and the ugly. What a question. Actually, anything with Clint Eastwood in it. Haven’t you seen the man?

His favorite musician? Ennio Morricone. Did you watch that scene in Inglourious Basterds, right before the Bear Jew comes out of the cave? That scene – and that composition – it’s reason enough to watch the movie. Aside from all the Nazis getting burned, of course.

His favorite food? Tteokbokki. But they have to be spicy enough to make your tongue fall off.

You smirked to yourself as you stood by the stove, slowly stirring the rice cakes in a black pan. He was talking movies all the time and that was a language you understood well.

In a minute you needed to add the spices and that disturbingly hot, red sauce. It was something you had cooked before, back in England. You had been scrolling aimlessly through one of your countless apps, which you normally used so you wouldn’t have to think and there you found some recipe that had been viral for a while. A Korean recipe with rice cakes in a sauce, topped with sesame and green onions. It had been quite the ordeal to find rice cakes back where you lived, but when you finally did and you tasted the recipe you had so carefully and lovingly prepared, you found it was worth it. It had actually been the first step into the life you were now living.

South-Korea, you had thought. Why not?

You poured the sauce in and wanted to try it, but decided against it in the end. You’d spend the next hour trying to soothe the pain in your mouth with bread and milk. With a soft sigh, you turned off the stove and served the food on two plates. You set the table with the gentle precision of a lovely homemaker. Even the napkins were folded prettily, giving the whole scene the last touch it needed to come off as…thoughtful.

Of course you never mentioned to him that you knew the dish. He had mostly likely thought it was just another Korean word he threw around and you’d forget immediately. And you had made no attempts to make him believe differently. So, when you began to cook this, it was with the intention to surprise him. A short glance at the clock showed you that it was almost ten in the evening, so he would most likely be home soon.

Home. What an odd thought.

You sighed again and washed your hands. A lecture you had to learn only once before in your life – spicy food didn’t quite match well with eyes.

You glanced around the kitchen once more, half-expecting him to be late. After he luckily gave you the books back, you asked yourself if you should go and read something, until he arrived, but that question answered itself, the moment you heard the door creak open. A nervous smile grew on your face and you nibbled on your lower lip. For some reason, a part of you was still afraid. A tiny bit, at least. It was like you expected him to punish you for good things. For being affectionate or caring.

But the moment you saw his head perk through the door, you knew you wouldn’t get punished tonight. Well, at least not, until you gave him a reason to…or asked him to.

His face lit up in surprised delight, his brows furrowed in a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“Hello?” He murmured as he stepped closer and set the briefcase down on a chair. Your smile grew somewhat and you folded your hands behind your back.

“Hey.” You took a step closer and tilted your head to the side. “I made dinner.”

“I can see that.” He glanced at the lovely decorated kitchen table. You had put in quite some effort, looking through all the drawers until you found a tablecloth, lit some candles and then there was his favorite food. He looked from the table to you and smiled.

“And what exactly did I do to deserve this?” He raised a brow in suspicion. You returned the smile.

“I just felt like it.”

“So, you know Tteokbokki!”

You laughed quietly. “We’ll see about that. You should try it first.”

He hummed softly and stepped closer. You expected him to head for the sink and wash his hands, which he most definitely would, but before that, he stepped close to you, so close that you felt the warmth radiating off him and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. Then your cheek and then your lips.

You closed eyes and leaned into the kiss, immediately aching for more. But a second later he pulled his head back and smiled again.

“I just know I’m going to love it. Thank you.”

You felt yourself blush and so you averted your gaze. He finished up getting ready and then pulled out your chair for you, like the gentleman he was, or well, he could be.

The both of you settled down and you kept a keen eye on him to check his reaction, the second he brought the fork to his lips. You half-expected him to recoil in disgust, but instead, his brows furrowed and he hummed in approval.

“This is perfect.”

You scoffed in amusement. “Stop bullshitting me.”

“No, I mean it. It’s perfectly spicy, just the way I like it. And it’s homemade. Do you know how much that me-“ He stopped himself and cleared his throat. The filter. “I really love it. Thank you.” He squeezed your hand under the table.

You smiled again and leaned back in your chair, taking a moment to simply watch him eat.

When he saw you were staring at him, he cocked a brow. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Now it’s you bullshitting me, huh?”

That made you laugh. God, how beautiful this was. Just simple, plain banter. Back and forth, like normal couples shared. You loved it.

You loved him.

When you laughed, a cocky grin grew on his face. “Mhm. I still have it in me, don’t I?”

You smirked. “Oh, shut up. For an old man.”

His grin widened and he picked up the fork, bringing it to your lips. Wordlessly, you parted them and took the food in your mouth. It was painful, of course, but you tried to keep a strong façade. And failed.

He laughed and held out a glass with milk to you, of which you took a big, grateful sip.

“Why are you making it, if you can’t even eat it?”

“You like it.”

He hummed softly. “And you remembered.”

“It’s not that hard. I collect the few things I know about you like postage stamps.”

He snorted. “Oh, so now we collect stamps, do we?”

You grinned cheekily and gently nudged his shoulder. “Eat your abnormal spicy food and shush.”

He shot you another smirk and eyed you up and down for a moment. It left you feeling oddly comfortable.

“You’re beautiful.” He mumbled before he took another bite. Your brows shot up and you titled your head to the side. You were better now, when it came to this. Compliments and accepting them. After all, he had no reason to lie to you whatsoever, now, did he?

“Thank you. But why are you saying that?” Not as good as you thought, but better.

He brows furrowed. “And why wouldn’t I?”

You shrugged and he shot you a long, suspicious look. “I’m not taking it back.”

That made you laugh again. He sounded like petulant child and you loved him even more when he was like this. Just…easy.

Easy to love.

“Why are you laughing at me?” He joined your laughter.

You smirked and took another sip of your milk. “If you can’t tell, it’s already too late.”

Days passed, weeks even, and life was still good. Very much so.

Every now and then you would ask yourself, when will things take a dark turn again? You couldn’t help yourself. These first few weeks were stuck in your mind like a nightmare you hardly remembered and yet felt in every inch of your body. Even when you didn’t...

Your body remembered.

He had that in him. That dark, that evil. It would undoubtedly come out again at some point. That’s why you always tried to remind yourself, not to dive too deep into what you called your perfect world. At some point, you’d surely be in pain again.

Though, you had to admit, you were hardly in pain nowadays. Your mysterious man was a gentle man, when he wanted to be and that happened more and more these days. Whenever he came home, he’d make a habit of kissing you and asking you about your day. His smile came out, more and more often. On very rare occasions, when you got really lucky, you even heard him laugh. And not the mock-kind of laugh he’d have so well-rehearsed in his repertoire of masks, he had for the world to see, but the real kind. A sound so unbridled and genuine, so warm and endearing, it made something inside of you ache. Why was it so rare?

Of course he still hurt you sometimes, but that was more of a consented kind of thing. In most cases.

Whenever he decided it was time for you to cockwarm him, for example. God, you hated, when he did. Because you loved it.

You loved the feeling of having him inside you on any occasion, really. Sometimes he’d be reading the newspaper and have you on his lap, his free hand on your hip to hold you perfectly still. You always asked yourself, how on earth did he manage to read like that, without even cocking an eye brow, while you were nearly fainting in agony, because all you wanted was for him to move?

On other nights, and you were ashamed to admit how much you enjoyed it, you’d even sleep like that. You’d lay either facing away or facing him, but often clenched around him. He’d nuzzle his face in your hair and after a while he’d usually drift off like that, his breathing slowly soothing down to a soft sound. Sometimes, when he’d wake up in the middle of the night, you felt him move and grind his hips against yours, giving you the friction you so desperately desired. Sometimes it happened quickly, sometimes it took a few hours and sometimes it didn’t happen at all. But when it did and when it did take hours to get to that point, you’d normally be half-asleep and yet desperate. The second you felt him move inside you, it was as though a switch got flipped. You became needy and…

Wicked.

 For you, it didn’t matter how many times he fucked you. How many times he made you cum. When you felt him like that, you needed him. Ardently.

But in most cases you managed to be good for him, just like he asked you to. Good and perfectly still. When you did, you got rewarded. Which, in most cases, consisted of him going down on you and making you feel things with his tongue that made your toes curl and your breath stutter. He made you cum so good that you nearly forgot your own name.

At times, you did forget it. But odd enough, you didn’t really miss it. Names weren’t important. Not with him.

And then there were those other times. The times, when you got too needy, too desperate and, despite your better will, you found yourself moving against him, desperate for any kind of friction. That was when you got punished still.

Sometimes with a firm slap to get you back on track. That wasn’t enough to make you forget about your need for him though. Normally, you’d just fall back into the same pattern, given enough time. And after a while, he got more creative with his punishments. When he realized that pain was something that you were rather immune to, compared to other things, you were fucked.

Quite literally.

When you moved and disobeyed his orders not to…

He fucked you. Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not at all, actually.

That was until…

You came. You came every time with him, which was something you had highly doubted, before you started this thing between you. But to your surprise, you were more than relaxed with him. And so you came.

But he didn’t stop there. No, it was a punishment after all, right?

So, he kept fucking into you, like a feral animal. Even after you came and the pleasure quickly shifted into overstimulation. You got so sensitive, it was close to painful. But he kept going.

And then, oh God, you’d come again. Of course you did. He was good at what he was doing. You came again, shuddering and gasping.

And he still wouldn’t stop.

Even when your body arched into the air and you tried to get away from him, all desperate, he’d continue fucking you, until your mind was a mess and all you could do was stutter and whimper, cry even.

It was one of his favorite ways to punish you.

When he didn’t keep you on edge or withdrew your release for the time being, he made you cum until you begged him to stop, sobbing and whimpering.

Oh, the crying turned him on, you could tell. Because it normally ended with him filling you up to the brim. And then he’d go back to sleep, wouldn’t he? With his length still buried deep inside to keep warm.

Let’s just hope you learned your lesson now, darling. I’d hate to punish you again.

He had done exactly that the night before and so you found yourself lying on the sofa, feeling sore and exhausted. When he came home that night, you were still passed out on the couch, too sleepy to even open your eyes. He regarded your broken frame with a warm, yet subtle smile and set his briefcase down. He took a few slow steps closer and watched over you for a long moment, before he reached for the nearby blanket and pulled it up to your shoulders. You weren’t really fast asleep, just somewhere in-between, so you felt his knuckles gently caress your cheek. You mumbled something in response and you heard the way he smiled, before he vanished to the bathroom and you heard the way the water got turned on.

After a while you slowly blinked your eyes open and yawned. When you saw the blanket, a smile crept onto your face and you hugged the material tightly to your body. Slowly and carefully, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, before you decided to try and cook something for a change. You got better and better at it, considering how little you knew about the Korean cuisine. Yet you had to admit, it seemed healthier than anything you had ever eaten back home.

When you couldn’t think of anything, you decided to be safe and went for Bibimbap. It was a mixture of near everything and also the fastest thing you could think of. But before you even started, you went back to your room to grab a claw clip for your hair. You swiftly did it up and made your way through the hallway, when you saw that the door to his bedroom stood open. You saw his white shirt splayed out on the bed and you just knew it smelled like him. You bit your lip as you slowly tiptoed inside and picked the shirt up, only to bury your face in the material and inhale softly.

If this wasn’t home, what would ever be?

You hummed softly to yourself, before you swiftly slid off your caramel colored skirt and your black tank top, to put his button down shirt on instead. The material hugged your body like a gentle hug and you smiled to yourself as you rolled the sleeves up in the way he would. Of course the shirt looked fairly huge on you. You took a long glance at the big mirror and smirked. It looked like a dress on you, albeit a short one. You twirled around like a ballerina and took in the way your thighs were barely covered by the material. That gave you a wicked idea.

Of course your body was begging you to leave it be, especially after last night, but the devil inside your mind forced you to keep the shirt on and make your way back to the kitchen.

In the meantime, he had finished his shower and now he sat on the couch, with the newspaper in his hand. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants (the damned bastard) and a black shirt. His hair was still damp and hung loosely into his face. He looked delicious.

When he heard you approach, he looked up, ready to greet you, when he hesitated. His gaze roamed up and down your body in a way that made you bite back a smirk.

“Hello, darling.” He murmured, without ever looking up at your face.

“Why, hello.” You purred cheerfully and approached him with slow, tiptoed steps. His gaze wandered up your legs and torso, until he finally met your gaze.

“You look…”

“I thought it suits me better than you.” You teased.

His lips curved up into a slow smile. “I can’t disagree.” He took your hand, ready to pull you onto his lap. But after last night, you felt in dire need to take some action and control.

Not, that you didn’t somehow enjoy it. But still.

You briefly squeezed his hand, before you pulled yours away. You gave him a quick peck on the lips, then took a step back.

“I’ll go cook.”

His brows shot up. “I can-“

“No.”

You hid your smirk, until you had your back facing him. With quick, measured steps, you disappeared into the kitchen, all the while pretending not to hear his frustrated groan.

The next few minutes went by rather quickly. You did a great job cooking up some ingredients and even an egg, Sunny Side Up. You quickly set the table and eventually left some rice on the stove, to slowly simmer. With a soft, exaggerated sigh you made your way back to the living room.

“It’s almost done.” You murmured as you slowly approached him. When you looked at him, you deliberately missed his face and his expression became more and more dour.

“Good. I was thinking-“

“I nearly finished my book.” You interrupted him in a sweet voice, as you sat down on his lap, causing him to freeze for a moment. It only took him a second to relax, though he seemed to have forgotten that you had interrupted him and what he even intended to say in the first place.

“That’s…good.” He murmured.

“Just two more pages. I’ll finish it quickly, before dinner, okay?”

He cocked a brow and shrugged slowly. “Sure. Suit yourself.”

His shirt rode up your thighs and revealed more and more of your skin to his gaze. He didn’t even try to be secretive about it, he was straight-up ogling you. All the while you buried your nose in your book, without reading a single word. You had to save up all your energy as not to smile.

His fingertips brushed over the skin of your thigh and you did your best to keep your expression neutral. And he, he was just…

“Are you-“

“Oh God, I didn’t see that twist coming.” You closed the book and sighed. Then you shot him an innocent look and smiled. “That was a really good book.”

You leaned back against his chest and kept up your innocent façade, all the while the look in his eyes equaled that of a bear with his fish.

“You really-“

“I’d better go and get myself another one. I’m sure the rice needs a few more minutes.”

His hand ended up in the middle of the air, while you practically jumped off of his lap. He let out a soft grunt of frustration, while you slowly swayed your way back to the bookshelf. Of course your hips swayed along and obviously his gaze did the same.

You held a finger against your lips, pretending to think, while you slowly went about the rows and rows of books. And then, what a coincidence, a book in the last row caught your attention. You smiled and bent down, pretending to read.

At the same time, his patience snapped. When his shirt rode up further, exposing just a hint of your rear to him, he let out a low growl.

“That’s enough.” He hissed. You smirked, before you slowly turned and replaced the smirk with innocent surprise.

“What? What’s enough?”

“Oh, stop this.” He slammed the newspaper down on the coffee table and stood up in a swift movement. “Stop acting all innocent. You’ve been parading around here, half-naked and ready to…”

“To what?” You murmured and tilted your head to the side in feigned curiosity. He growled again and ran a hand over his chin. Only then did you see the obvious tent in his grey sweatpants. It cost you half your life not to look down there and trust your peripheral view.

“Don’t play dumb.” He murmured. “Get over here. Now.”

You licked your lips. “But the rice-“

“Now!”

That made you laugh and there went your innocent act out of the window.

“You minx! You’re doing this on purpose!”

You chuckled. “Well…”

The look on his face was near rabid. Only the foam was missing.

“I’ll forgive you this once, if you’ll be a good girl for me and get your ass over here.”

You smirked and took a step back, circling the sofa. “And if I don’t?

He hissed in response. “You don’t want to test me today.”

And for some inexplicable reason, right then and there, you weren’t scared. That tiny part of your brain that had continued to keep up the fear, albeit briefly and barely, was completely silent. And you knew he wasn’t going to hurt you, no matter what you did.

“Make me then.”

His eyes widened and he tilted his chin up. “Oh, that’s a mistake.”

You grinned. “Oh, that’s a mistake.” You mocked his voice.

With a movement so quick that it almost made you wince, he jumped over the back of the couch and stood before you, eyeing you like a predator. You let out a soft shriek and turned on your heel, running and laughing, without looking over your shoulder.

It took him only a second to put his hand on your shoulder, but it took you only a second to shrug him off and circle the coffee table.

“That all you got, old man?”

You could have sworn you saw his lip twitch, but that would have been too easy. He tried hard to keep his expression serious.

“Grew a backbone, did you?”

You raised a brow and smirked. “Oh, boo-hoo. Did I hurt you, oppa?” You hinted a mocking curtsy.

“Oh, you just wait!” He rushed to catch you from one side, but you quickly ran the other way. When he tried the other way, you went the other way, yet again. He gave a frustrated growl.

“What now, hm?” You smirked. “Giving up already?”

He gave you a long, wild look. For a moment you almost thought he was indeed giving up, but then he rushed forward and kicked the table out of the way. It rolled over and crashed against the wall loudly. Your eyes widened in surprise and you took a step back, but before you knew it, your back was already pressed against the wall and you had to tilt your head back to stare up at him.

“You caught me.” You whispered.

He clenched his jaw and reached out a hand. You were sure. You were still sure, that you were safe.

And then…

His hand slowly tangled in your hair and gently grasped the back of your neck. He leaned down so that your lips nearly met.

“I caught you.” He whispered back, before he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

And you let the rice burn.

A few days later, you couldn’t even tell which day it was, because every day was but a collection of memories you kept replaying in your head, he was off to work.

And to no one’s great surprise, you missed him.

Every waking moment without him was empty. The emptiness was so intense, it left you nearly suffocating. All the while, all you could do was wait. Wait and eat. Wait and sleep. Wait and read.

Sometimes, you wrote. You remembered that one time you told him about your greatest dream.

To become an author one day. You didn’t even care, if anyone knew your real name, you just wanted to touch people with your words. Like the Bronte-sisters.

Ellis Bell, huh? And who would you be?

Hana, maybe. The thought made you equally as sad as it filled you with hope.

But that was about all you did. And after hours and hours, the day neared its end. Eventually it was far past eleven, so you were sure he would be late tonight. Of course you were concerned. As you always were. You had no idea what his job was, but you could tell it was dangerous.

The man in his clean suit and a briefcase full of secrets.

When it got closer to midnight and he still wasn’t back, you decided to distract yourself, by getting yourself ready. You changed into a beautiful, white negligee with a neckline made of pretty, see-through lace. You loved it. The silk made you feel like you were the most beautiful girl on earth. And you were sure, once he saw you in it, he would totally destroy it. Chew it off or tear it down, whatever worked faster.

You did your hair down (it was slowly growing back and you barely thought back to the dreadful day that he cut it) and took a last glance at your appearance in the mirror. You smiled at yourself, something you rarely did, and eventually made your way back to his bedroom to surprise him. On his bed, wearing nothing but the negligee and a pair of…

Where were the handcuffs? You frowned as you glanced around and didn’t immediately find them. You bent down to look under the bed, but still no cuffs in sight. Your frown deepened and you gave another quick onceover, before you decided that they most likely were in the wardrobe.

You opened it and knelt down, finding the knife and several guns in the process. The small shudder brought you back to reality and you exhaled softly, before you sat back and looked at the countless weapons. Had he ever killed someone with them? Most likely.

But for a strange, inexplicable reason, you didn’t really care. Not really. Because it wasn’t real. Not then, not there, not in that moment. What was real, was him and his…

Desires.

You opened your mouth and closed it, before your fingers slowly closed around a small handgun. You swallowed thickly and carefully held it up, only to realize it was far heavier than you always assumed. The material felt cold and wrong in your hand.

Your mind involuntarily wandered back to the day he pressed one of them against your temple or…his. You closed your eyes. The thought of him…

Him…

With a shuddery gasp, the gun slipped through your fingers and landed on the carpet.

There was no thought more painful than that one. You couldn’t lose him. Not ever.

You loved him. And you loved him far too much.

Enough, to be what he wanted.

Enough, to give in to his desires.

You took another deep breath and picked up the gun again, determined to take it back to bed with you. You wanted to surprise him, right?

All you had to do beforehand was to make sure that it wasn’t loaded.

A frown formed on your face, when you realized you didn’t even know how to do that. The thought of accidentally shooting yourself, while waiting for him to come home…It didn’t sound all too appealing, though it did sound like something that could happen to you.

You sighed and already gave up the thought of ever finding the cuffs, when you caught sight of something else instead. It was far in the back of the wardrobe and you were sure, for some reason, you weren’t supposed to see it.

Of course you weren’t supposed to touch his gun, either, but you felt he would forgive you, once he realized you were slowly submitting to his every desire.

Even if it meant him fucking you, while he held a gun to your head. In your mouth…Or, God help you, somewhere else.

You were twisted. You were sure you were. Because you felt it. You felt how the thought did things to you.

But for now you tried to push the thought aside and instead glanced back at the box.

Then again, what terrible thing could be inside there?

Someone’s teeth maybe?

Your soft smile disappeared the second you realized it was possible. You nearly recoiled in disgust. But then you realized, you had to know.

It couldn’t be teeth. It was too sick. Too deranged.

Too…him?

No. No, no, no.

As if in a trance, you picked up the light, wooden box and took off the lid.

No teeth inside. Only…

Fuck.

What was in there was so much worse than teeth.

Your forehead creased into a small frown, which grew further with every second.

And suddenly you felt nauseous.

No.

Oh, no.

You nearly dropped the box and backed away like you’d been struck, the moment you heard it.

“Goddamn it." He sighed impatiently and the door slowly closed behind him. "You weren’t supposed to see that.”

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Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: Did I lately mention that I love you, guys?

Ps. The Tteokbokki and the teasing were anon requests! I loved them and I hope I did them justice!

[suiana]

yandere! officer who holds a rather high rank in the military. he's proud of it too! i mean, it's the 1800s. how many men do you know that hold the rank of an an officer? and a high ranked one too at that! not many, that's for sure.

yandere! officer who's ALSO your childhood friend. how convenient is that, huh? you would hate it if he was also your fiancé, huh? 😂😂😂 i mean, what an absolute COINCIDENCE that would be... oh yeah, did i mention he was the one who proposed marriage? not your father, not his father. him.

"father, must i really get married to him? he's just my friend!" yet, your words fall on deaf ears as your father merely lets out a sigh and shakes his head. damn it, there's no getting through to him. it's like he's already made up his mind. "I've already told you, he's a good man to marry. you should be happy that such a noble man wants you." yeah, noble status. that's all there is, huh? it's not like you can say anything though. you're just the child of a small no name noble, who are you to reject someone who's highly respected in the military? but hey, at the very least it's your childhood friend that you're close with. you're sure that he just wants your friendship out of this. it's not like he's madly in love with you or anything...

yandere! officer who's definitely in love with you. you don't even have to be a genius to know that, just looking at him will tell anyone and everyone that he's madly enamoured. and as always, everyone but you knows it.

"you love me?" your breath hitches, eyes widening as you feel a warm flush creep up your cheeks. no way... he... likes you? your childhood best friend who's been showing obvious signs of a crush ever since the two of you were kids? "yes... i would think that was obvious by now." his words are flat, face deadpanning at you. despite the exasperation in his tone, his eyes are soft and the corner of his lips are upturned. "you are the only one in my heart, mein leibling."

yandere! officer that has a different side he shows to others and one reserved specifically for you. he only ever bears his heart and soul to you, his future spouse. he could care less for others, you come first and foremost. sure he might have pledged allegiance to the nation but you're his one and only. he'd betray the country if it's for you, throw away everything he's worked for just to make you happy.

yandere! officer who has discovered your... apreciation for his uniform. he finds it interesting to say the least. oh, so you think he looks attractive? he doesn't get what's so good looking about his uniform but he'll gladly wear it more often if you like it so much.

"schatz, i need to change out of my uniform-" "just give me a minute..." your fiancé could only look down in silence as you stared intensely at his attire. you're doing it again. he doesn't even know what you're doing, just staring at his uniform with your pretty eyes and serious expression. he thinks you're appreciating him but he's not quite sure. you never say anything after all. all you do is simply stare quietly. you don't even as much as touch him! "you can... touch, y'know? you don't need to just stare." he sure hopes you do. what he'd give to feel your hands on him... and he's pretty sure you want to touch him too. or maybe you want him to touch you? "can i?" "of course you can. we are to be married anyway." "nah... i think I'll just... look..." man. looks like he's going to be just standing here for a while, huh? oh well, as long as you're happy. it's not like he has anything better to do anyway.

[thatonegreyghost]

Failure stings.

The truth of the matter is, they both knew it would be an uphill battle to get the Council to approve funding for a public works project. Hextech might be wonderful and easily accessible to the people, but the Council still thinks of it as "their's", and can be quite possessive over it.

So, they failed to acquire funding for the tram lines they wanted to build. But they knew that might happen.

The knowledge doesn't stop Viktor's tears, though.

"We got so close." Viktor mutters. "Just because our research isn't complete–"

"I know. I know." Jayce mutters, pulling him close for a hug. "We knew this might happen."

"That doesn't make it hurt less!"

"I know." Jayce presses his cheek to the top of Viktor’s head. "I know. But there's always next year. We can make this work."

"It's not fair." Viktor whines.

Jayce spoils him too much, because 5 years ago he never would have complained like this. The world isn't fair, and he knows it. He should know better than to expect good from powerful people.

"No, it's not. But we can make it work." Jayce insists. "Let's focus on getting the data we need, and if we can make a successful model, we can work on convincing individual councilers. Counciler Kiramann will here us out in private, so if we can just get the data–"

Already, Jayce is plotting how to move forward. Viktor knows that this is Jayce's way of grieving their lost opportunity, knows that his vigor stems from his own hurt heart. But that does not stop him from reaching towards Jayce, pulling his arm around his shoulder.

"Jayce, enough." Viktor mutters. "Just... stay here with me, just for a moment."

Jayce complies, and this time, Viktor feels the kiss placed against his head when Jayce leans in to snuggle him. His already conflicted emotions start to whip up into a storm. Did Jayce just... Had he meant... Was that real?

"Did you just kiss me?" Viktor asks, his voice trembling slightly.

Jayce freezes, his whole body going stiff agai st Viktor’s. They're both quiet for what feels like hours, though when Viktor's held breath finally punches out of his lungs, he realizes it can't gave been more than a few seconds.

"Uhhh... Force of habit?" Jayce squeaks out.

"Oh, you could certainly force that habit, alright."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing!" Viktor stammers. "....Let's just go back to the lab. We have some projects to finish."

Now is not the time for stupid feelings. They have a lot of work to get through if they're going to convince the Council of anything by next year.

All I ever wanted All I ever needed Is here in my arms

[leighsartworks216]

Darlin' I'm Right Here

Sylus x gn!Reader

I wrote this at like 3am last night and because I wrote this at 3am last night and then went down a rabbit hole of rereading fanfics, I did not get enough sleep to do any work

Anyway I just think it would be neat if Sylus could carry me around please and thank you

Title from "Butterfly's Repose" by Zabawa

Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, caretaking, kissing, cuddling, undressing (and redressing), casual intimacy, established relationship, crying

Word Count: 1,659

Main Masterlist

First - Second - Third Love and Deepspace Masterlists

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus looks over as the door opens and quietly shuts again. He watches you, a silent observer, as you drop your stuff to the floor and push it aside with your foot. Your movements are sluggish as you pull off your winter coat and the sweatshirt underneath. A low sigh passes your lips as you work at undoing the knots in your boot laces - and that's when he comes over.

You see his shadow, feel his presence, and stand up straight once more. He tilts his head, brow furrowed slightly; you look so tired, so worn out, and moisture is collecting on your lower eyelids. Your pitiful sniff only confirms his suspicions.

He doesn't say anything as he kneels down by your feet. He unties the knots you struggled with moments ago, undoes the laces enough for your feet to slip out easily. You use his shoulder as support when he lifts one foot and slips your boot off, then the other. Both are set aside in a tray where they can continue drying off without dripping melted snow on the wood floors.

You watch him as though in a daze. He stands and your eyes follow, lacking their usual vibrancy and life. They only shine now because of the tears you hold back.

He bends down, gently guiding your arms around his neck. "Hold on, kitten," he orders softly. Your hands lock together behind his head. Your face finds its place tucked in his shoulder, tightly so as to block out the rest of the world around you. His hands hold the back of your thighs as he lifts you, wrapping your legs around his hips.

He feels your breaths just as you feel his. Hears each shuddering inhale and shaky exhale beside his ear. He tilts his head to the side to rest upon yours, rubbing his cheek against your head affectionately. He hopes it really was just a bad day that is upsetting you so much. If he hears even a hint of a whisper that someone said or did something to his darling lover, he won't hesitate to deal with it, permanently.

Each step is a gentle sway, a soothing rocking. You feel like a child clinging to their parent, pretending to be asleep as they carry you to bed. You feel small, but not in a bad way. Small, yet protected. Secure. You cling a little tighter to him and he adjusts your hips higher against him to keep you there.

The villa you've practically claimed as a home is smaller than his usual estates, though still quite large considering only two people live here at any one time. It's much larger than your old apartment. At least here he can actually move around the kitchen comfortably and shower without needing to duck under the spray of the shower head.

He carries you through the familiar floor plan to your bedroom, and then further into the ensuite bathroom. He's immensely careful when he sets you down at last on the countertop beside the sink. Though, he doesn't pull away. Doesn't force you to, either. Instead, he holds your hip and massages at your lower back, giving you the time you need. There's no rush. There's never a rush with him.

With a small inhale to give you strength, you finally pull away. Tears make tracks down your cheeks. A wet spot stains his shirt. He brushes away the tears on one cheek, and kisses them away on the other.

"Do you want to take a shower, sweetie?" he asks. You shake your head. He kisses your cheek again warmly.

Instead of a shower, he reaches into a cabinet and pulls down a washcloth. One handed, he turns on the warm water and holds his fingers under the tap as he waits for it to get to the perfect temperature. The cloth's fabric turns dark once he holds it under the water, soaked through. He squeezes out the excess and turns off the tap, before brushing it gently over your cheeks.

You close your eyes and give in to his tender care. With no sound aside from a sniffle here and there, Sylus wipes away the sticky tear tracks. He soothes the cloth under your eyes, easing out the tension and tiredness with its warmth. You shiver involuntarily when the cloth touches your neck, lightly wetting your throat with enough pressure to avoid tickling you.

Once he's satisfied with his work, he sets the cloth on the side of the sink. His hands, warm and lightly damp, find your hips, then your thighs, wordlessly warning you just before he lifts you up once more.

He doesn't carry you far, just into the bedroom. He rests you at the end of the bed, your legs hanging off to the floor while the rest of your body is laid back against the plush bedding. He kisses your forehead as he gently coaxes your arms from around his neck. "Wait here."

You crack your eyes open to watch as he goes to your dresser. With familiarity, he pulls out a few things, chief among them two types of pants and two types of shirts. He carries them over and sets them on either side of you on the bed. He holds up the pants first.

"Which one?" In one hand is a pair of long pajama pants. In the other, a pair of shorts. You point lazily at one, and he sets them down.

Kneeling down by your feet once more, he removes your socks and your pants. Normally, on any other day, there would be a heat in his gaze. A dripping, dark lust in his eyes as they roam your legs up to your underwear. Now, there's not even a hint of such a thing. He looks at your legs in the same way he looks at his guns as he maintains them, with an undeniable presence of care and dedication, and the warmth of wanting to take care of you in the best ways he knows how. He always claims to be bad at comforting people, yet he finds the perfect ways to tend to you every time.

He slips the pants you chose on you, pulling them up along your legs. You don't even have to lift your hips up - he does so for you with a large hand under your lower back.

"Do you want your fuzzy socks?" He smiles when you nod. You're always so endearing to him. You've perfectly curled within his heart, laying claim to it as your own. Its beats change with your emotions and actions. Right now, it beats softly, but steadily, as your eyes follow him back to the dresser to retrieve a pair of your fuzzy socks and then watch as he slips them onto your feet. It will beat louder tomorrow, he’ll make sure of it.

He stands and lifts up the shirts. One is a baggy t-shirt you "stole" from him a while ago. ("Stole" because Sylus is not a man who often wears t-shirts. This particular shirt is one you bought for him and commanded him to wear for a couple of days leading up to your visit, whereupon you claimed it for yourself.) The other is a tank top. You choose which one you'd rather wear tonight and he sets them aside.

He playfully pulls you into a sit, tangling his fingers with yours and tugging you up to him. He leans down to kiss your head. Warm fingers brush your skin as he removes your shirt from today. It winds up in a pile with your pants and socks.

The shirt you chose is soon pulled over your head. Your arms are guided through just the same. He leans down to make sure it settles comfortably around your body, and you use the opportunity to draw your fingers lightly under his chin. All his focus is on you immediately.

He is completely pliant under your touch. You could do anything - have him do anything. He is at your whim.

With the barest pressure, you draw him in, meeting his lips in a slow, sweet kiss. His lips are always so soft and plush. They don't seek for more than you give, only taking what you decide to offer, without a hint of a complaint. When your fingers fall from his skin, he lightly pulls away, heavy-lidded eyes peeking open to search your face for answers, to know what you want. One more kiss, and one more, before you're satisfied. He pulls away.

Your dirty clothes are dropped into the hamper. The clothes you didn't choose are left on top of your dresser to be put away later. He goes to place you in bed properly, but is stopped by your slight frown and the flicker of your eyes over his clothes. He grins. He can feel your eyes on him as he changes his own clothes, trading them in for some sweatpants that rest low on his hips and a tank top that shows off his arms. You're smiling contentedly when he approaches this time.

He lifts you up, but does not set you down again. Instead, he slips into bed with you in his arms, holding you close as he ensures you're comfortable. Not that you complain; you keep him trapped there with the way your legs hug him and with your head tucked under his chin. He rubs up and down your back with one hand. The other holds your hand over his heart.

The day that upset you feels lightyears away as your body relaxes against Sylus's. The cold and snow outside don't exist as he kisses your head and stops rubbing your back in favor of massaging the back of your neck. No concerns for tomorrow. No worries about what will come next. Just the gentle coaxing of his breaths, luring you into a much needed nap.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

When You're Ready

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: being a single mom, the hard side of being a parent, overstimulation?

Summary: Being a single mother hasn’t always been easy, and life catches up to you whether you want it to or not. You have so much on your plate that you’re not even thinking about being in a relationship. Spencer likes you and he makes it clear that he’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes.

Square Filled: huddle for warmth for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Today could not be any worse than it is right now. You didn’t have time to brush your hair, you barely got your teeth brushed, your clothes are wrinkly because you forgot to iron them last night, the heater is broken in your house so all your daughter does is complain that it’s too cold, and you’re trying to get both her and yourself ready for the day.

“Mama, I’m hungry!” she whines.

“Food is coming, baby,” you say.

As you try not to cry, you plate more breakfast for her and set it on her tray. She immediately digs into the pancakes like she’s never been fed before. The TV is blaring in the living room as it plays yet another episode of Spongebob, her favorite TV show. Right now, that little sponge is giving you a massive headache. The coffee machine beeps for the tenth time, and you have an overwhelming urge to chuck it out the window. The machine has been broken for quite some time now but will make a cup of coffee every once in a while.

Today is not one of those days.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and you just about stop and cry right there. What now? Who could this possibly be while you’re already running late for work? You leave Casey in the kitchen and walk to the front door. On the way, you almost slip on one of her toys, and you kick it harder than you should have. You open the front door and see your housekeeper standing there. You barely have enough to pay her since you had to downgrade a bunch of stuff since the divorce, but she stayed and accepted the new salary.

You’re honestly not sure what you would do without her.

“Oh, Shelly, it’s you.”

“Rough morning?” Tears well in your eyes at her question because you’re forced to think how this morning has been in a sea of bad ones. “Oh, Y/N, don’t worry about a thing. I’m here now.”

“Thanks,” you whisper and close the door behind her. You turn down the TV so that you don’t have to shout at Shelly. “Um, Casey has a field trip today. I looked at the weather and it’s going to be cold so make sure she packs a jacket. She’ll fight it but make sure she has one, okay?”

“Y/N, how long have I been looking after this little girl? I’ll be okay. Don’t you have work?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Here, let me.”

She fixes your hair until it looks presentable, and you give her a warm smile.

“Thank you. The coffee machine is broken. I’ll pick one up on the way home.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a new one. I have a few other things to pick up at the store.”

“Okay. Bye, Casey! Mommy is off to work. I love you!”

“I love you!” she sings back.

Despite how hard it’s being a single mom, she always brings a smile to your face. Not only is it hard being a single mom, but you work in the FBI where your job is demanding and requires a lot out of you. It’s why you needed to hire Shelly. Before, she was here because your ex-husband paid to have her clean the house. You both had jobs and weren't home enough to keep up with it. Now with Casey, she’s a blessing in disguise.

Hotch makes it look so easy. Since Haley was killed, he’s been doing a good job at raising his son and being the Unit Chief. He has Beth and Haley’s sister, but it’s just him most of the time. You have no one but Shelly, and she only comes three times a week. Casey’s father fled the second you told him you were pregnant so you had to do this entire thing by yourself. All Casey knows is the team because you have them over ever so often.

She’s more familiar with Hotch since he brings Jack over for playdates because they are around the same age. Though, she loves Spencer more than anyone on the team. You’re only friends with him but he’s expressed interest in you. He’s made it clear that you’re on his mind, but you can’t be dating right now. There’s no time for boyfriends or flings or whatever Spencer would be. Your life is too complicated. Add in a toddler and a lawsuit for child support, and it’s too much for someone else to handle.

You told him this much, and he seems okay with being your friend. You still catch him watching you and blushing when you give him a compliment, but he’s been respectful of your boundaries.

You walk into work and notice everyone inside the briefing room. You practically throw your shit down on your desk and run to the briefing room.

“So sorry I’m late. Traffic,” you white-lie.

“It’s okay. We’re just going over updates on our cases and finishing files,” Hotch says.

The B Team must be out right now, and you sag your shoulders in relief. You need a chill day right now more than anything. After a rundown of the open cases, you take yours back to your desk to get started on them. Spencer does the same but he approaches your desk from the front.

You barely look up at him. “Oh, hey, Spencer.”

“Rough morning?” You scoff but don’t say anything. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. “How is Casey doing?”

“She’s good. She has a field trip today at the aquarium.”

Spencer is about to say a fact when he sees the look on your face. Maybe he shouldn’t be himself right now.

“That should be fun.” Again, you don’t respond. All you want to do is focus on your work and not on the headache you have. Instead of going back to his desk, he sits next to yours. “You know, if you ever need someone to watch Casey, I’m more than happy to do it. Even for an entire weekend. It’ll give you time to yourself.” You stop typing and look at him. “Only if it’s okay with you, of course. Or maybe I can come over and hang with her while you get some sleep or something.”

“What are you doing?”

“What? I’m just trying to help.”

It’s the way he said it that makes your back crack under the pressure. You know he doesn’t deserve this but you’re saying it anyway because he’s here.

“You’re not her father, Spencer!”

“I know, but--”

“Look, that’s nice of you to offer but I have been raising her by myself since she was born. Even before she was born. I didn’t need help then and I don’t need it now. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

You gather your finished files and walk away from your desk. Tears threaten to spill but you won’t let it. Not now.

“Okay,” Spencer says, his voice small.

Yep, you hate yourself now. Truth be told, he kind of scares you. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man, and that scares you. He’s safe and predictable and dependable, everything you never had, not even with Casey’s father. He messed you up so badly that you learned you can’t depend on anyone for anything.

Not even Spencer.

After putting your files away, you slip into the bathroom and just cry. All this stress shouldn’t be good for you. The bathroom door opens and you immediately wipe the tears away. JJ frowns when she sees the tears, and you splash some water on your face to get the redness to go away.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you could come over to my place at two instead of four. Will is having his boys come at two, and I figured my girls could be there at the same time to get coordinated with them.”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot about my wedding. It’s next weekend. You’re my maid of honor.”

Shit. You completely forgot about that. You’ve been so focused on not breaking down that her wedding has completely slipped your mind.

“No, I didn't forget.” You wince at the lie. “Okay, it slipped my mind, but I will be there. Two, not four.” You’re about to leave when you remember Shelly telling you she is going out of town next weekend. You don’t have money for a babysitter. “Would it be okay if I brought Casey? Shelly is going to be out of town.”

“Yes, the more the merrier. I love Casey, and I know Henry does, too.”

“Thank you, JJ,” you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just stressed is all. I don’t think I slept more than a few hours each night, my hair needs a cut, I need an everything shower, and I don’t have time to do any of it.”

“Yeah, motherhood can be tough.”

“Tell me about it. Not to mention, I think I might have hurt Spencer’s feelings. I yelled at him. He’s just trying to help.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. What did he say?”

“He offered to look after Casey for a weekend.”

“It might be good to take him up on the offer.”

You shrug. “I gotta get back to work.” You leave the bathroom and notice Spencer at his own desk. “Spencer?” He looks up and smiles when he sees you, making you feel even worse than you do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or said those things.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You were just trying to help.”

“The offer still stands if and when you want to use it. Think about it.”

The rest of the week is pretty chill since the B Team is still out, giving you and Spencer more time to strengthen your relationship. He shows up to work with an extra coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and a smile just for you. He wants to make sure you eat because that’s the only thing he can do right now to help you.

On the day of the wedding, you know he is going to be right there in the audience. He agreed to look after Casey while you stand next to JJ, so you’re getting her dressed in her pretty pink sparkle dress.

“So, while Mommy is up with Aunt JJ, you’re going to be seated next to Spencer in the audience. Right there in the front.”

“I like Spencer,” she grins.

You smooth down your hair and smile. “Me, too.”

“Are you gonna marry him?”

“No,” you laugh.

“I bet he’d make a great dad.”

You choose not to say anything to that and lead her down the aisle where Spencer is seated. The wedding is located in JJ’s own backyard, but it’s perfect. It’s everything she’s ever wanted and more. Casey has a strict bedtime but the wedding goes past that, so naturally, she gets cranky by the time the reception happens. She’s hungry and restless, two things a toddler should never be at the same time.

“Just another hour and I promise, we can go home. I promised JJ we’d be here.”

“I’m hungry, Mama, and I’m bored.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

You look up and see Spencer approaching you two.

“Sorry, she skipped her nap today, and it’s past her bedtime. She’s just bored.”

“May I?” You nod. “Hey, Casey? Would you like to dance? Just one, and then maybe we can get some cake.”

“Okay,” she grins.

Spencer takes her to the dancefloor while you stay seated at one of the tables. He whispers something to her and she eagerly steps onto his shoes. He dances around in circles with her on his shoes, and she giggles happily. It doesn’t matter how much of a shitty week you’ve been having. She’s smiling and laughing and that means you’re doing a pretty damn good job. Spencer picks her up and holds her close so he can dance properly, and she leans her head on his chest.

Would it be so bad to let him in? Maybe not, but you’re clearly not in the headspace for it. Is he willing to wait? You don’t want to keep him from other relationships even though it doesn’t look like he’s rushing to be in one.

After two songs are over, Spencer lets her down. He whispers something to her and she runs off in search of either Henry, Jack, or both. He walks over to you and holds out his hand.

“Care to dance?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You grab his hand and he brings you to the dancefloor. The next song is a slow one, so he pulls you in close to him. One hand in yours and the other low on your back. Has he always smelled this good?

“Thank you for what you did. She likes you a lot.”

“I like her a lot.” He dips his head lower so that his forehead barely touches the top of your head. “I like her mother, too.” Your heart thumps but in a good way. It’s like everyone else around you disappears until it’s only you and Spencer. “I’ll wait however long you need me to.”

You look up at him with tears. “What?”

“If time and space is what you need, I’ll give it to you. Just know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“You might be waiting a while,” you whisper.

“I’m a patient man.”

You rest your head on Spencer’s chest and let the music guide you. He runs his hand up and down your back, creating a safe and warm aura about him.

“You make me feel safe,” you whisper.

Whether he hears it or not, he doesn’t respond. He just continues to dance with you long after the song has ended.

x

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[uranometrias]

isn't that sweet, i guess so, aaron hotchner

summary: in which you reunite with your big sister's best friend, aaron hotchner for the first time since you graduated high school, and headed off to university. the last time you'd seen him you'd been a seventeen year old with a massive crush, now you were a special agent with doctorates and degrees. when the BAU is paired up with your unit during a case, you find that unit chief aaron is completely different from the aaron you'd looked up to growing up, but for good reason. one thing that never seemed to change though, is how he seems to know you better than anyone else, which is unlucky for you considering he's married with a baby on the way. pairing: aaron hotchner! x cia! female reader category: fluff x crack content warnings: none really? made up case details. mentions of bombings, murder, death, terrorism. there's an age gap of about 7 years between r! + hotch and this takes place in s1... idk it's just a bit of word vomit surrounding hotch finding a woman that's not haley attractive. no cheating though, cause it's literally fleeting, but reader is a bit smitten. author's note. i've got hotchner brain rot, and find myself with thousands of ideas that i never can bring myself to write. the girls that love him can be a bit... scary lol. they do not play about him, but whatever... he's on my mind so here we are.

it''s been so many months omg. i went to basic training and officially became an army girl! now i'm in italy now learning how to be a paralegal (which makes me even more equipped to write badass women with legal knowledge yum!) anyways... i'm sort of back, my schedule is packed, but i'm gonna get back into writing because i've missed it so terribly. xx

He hears you before he sees you. Your voice, despite the years that resided in between the last time he'd heard it hadn't changed much. It had gotten a bit deeper, a sign that you were no longer the bubbly teen he'd last seen you as, you were older, an adult now. Still, there's an undeniable giddiness that rested beneath your words that took him back to days when you were being chased off by your big sister for hanging around too much and "being way too obvious"

Obvious about what? Aaron had never quite figured it out, but he knows it's you nonetheless. You're standing in the middle of the Langley Headquarters, the Central Intelligence Agency office. The last Aaron had heard about you, you'd been on assignment in Qatar, but that was nearly eight months ago. Jobs that required FBI Agents and CIA Case Officers to overlap were usually gruesome, and despite how polite your tone was, he could still place a level of sternness.

"If we're dealing with some sort of cluster, the last thing we want to do is proceed haphazardly." you're speaking to a group of about ten counter-terrorism operatives, voice low so as not to disturb the other pods of agents working. "That said, over the last month there's been a bombing a week in the areas surrounding the capital." you're muttering just as the team is finally breaching the threshold of your particular pod. The building was bustling, flooded with bodies working on what Aaron was certain were different cases.

One of the agents, a man about your age seems to notice the new group, and clears his throat. You turn, eyebrow raising as you take him in. "I'm sorry?" you question as if the noise was some offensive remark made. The agent, whoever he is, seems to freeze up, eyes wide as he points forward in the general direction of the team. Aaron hears Elle's quiet little snort, and wonders how the two of you will manage to work alongside one another. Elle was - or better put, she could be quite volatile. And it seemed the way you'd spoken to your subordinate had already managed to put a sour taste in her mouth.

"I hope we're not interrupting." and you're finally turning, eyes fluttering directly to Gideon. You don't acknowledge anyone else on the team, only Gideon, head tipping to the side just slightly. Your lips push together, eyes then moving to the clock that rested on the desk nearest you.

"Not interrupting, but you're late, and we can't afford to wait around for the F.B.I. to finally give a damn." and your tone isn't snippy at all, but it's clear that you're passionate about your job, and this case. It makes sense that you're in the position that you're in. You turn back to your team, hands clasping together, "Everyone, these are the Bureau agents we were promised." you motion to them loosely. "You'll all be expected to work with them, not against them." you're back to pretending the profilers aren't there, he's not offended.

He can tell though that the others aren't sure how to take you. "This isn't the time for a balls match, and I don't care how long you've worked where." your eyes shoot across the entire group, resting sternly on the same man who's cleared his throat earlier. "They're here because they've mastered the art of getting into the mind of sons of bitches like these. In layman's terms we need them, and I expect you to give them the respect they deserve," it's then that you finally look back at them, eyes sweeping over the group.

Aaron sees it when surprise crosses your features, it happens when you finally lock eyes with him, but you hide it in an instant. "W-We can expect the exact same of them." everyone notices the sudden waver in your tone, but your face is so set they've got no time to unpack it. "I don't want to hear about any of you getting beside yourselves because you're too egotistical to accept a different opinion. Our goal is the same, so for now these are your comrades, and you'll treat them like you'd treat any cadet coming out of Peary."

You sound so official, and Aaron thinks that's partly due to the fact that you were one of the youngest in the room, which came with a certain level of scrutiny, which in turn meant you had no room to show any ounce of uncertainty. You couldn't give them any reason to believe they could undermine the authority you'd been granted. "We clear?" you ask, and you've regained some of that regality to your voice, and Aaron finds that leadership suits your character.

It's not until your team has offered their affirmatives and you've issued a handful of tasks that you finally turn back to the team. Your eyes sweep over the entirety of the line, deliberately passing over Aaron, and he wonders if that's deliberate. "Welcome to Langley." you start your introduction, "My supervisor said you guys would be here an hour ago." you admit, and you don't sound inherently snippy, but it's clear their perceived lack of punctuality was a bother.

"Our apologies, we came as soon as we were cleared." Jason is saying, and Aaron is certain all minds are running directly to Erin Strauss. She'd always had an affinity of making things way more difficult than they'd ever needed to be.

"That's alright, I'm just glad we've finally got your brains in the building." and you extend a hand, a polite (but still closed-off) smile residing on your face. "Jason Gideon, right?" you question, and he's accepting the gesture gingerly. "I'm Case Officer L/N, I'll be your point person while my supervisor is away." and you're looking at the clock again. "They should be landing within the hour, I'm sure he'll be looking forward to meeting you all." you proceed.

"This is Doctor Reid." and Gideon is addressing Spencer, who offers a small wave that you reciprocate. "This is our technical Analyst Garcia.." and he motions to her, the blonde beaming vibrantly at you. She's a walking ray of sunshine, a brightness that's needed in the profession. You offer your own sort of bright greeting, "And these are SSA's Greenaway, Morgan, Jareau..." and before Jason can move to introduce Aaron, you're offering the first real smile of the day.

"Hotchner." you complete Jason's greeting, smile deepening just slightly. "I'm actually quite familiar, we go way back." and Aaron feels every set of eyes to his left and right snapping right to him. He sees Derek's smug little smirk and JJ's perturbed eyebrow raise. He's not in the mood for questions though. "Follow me, we tore apart an office to make space for you guys." and you're walking, and the team is at a loss. Most of them seem to have no clue how to respond, but Derek does, he always does.

"We go way back?" he mimics cheekily and Aaron's eyes can't help but to roll. Elle and Jennifer are releasing similar snorts, clearly amused at the entire situation. Aaron doesn't know why they're so hellbent on trying to see something that wasn't there. It wasn't like you were some mysterious woman from his past. You were the kid sister of his childhood friend, basically a neighbor. Still, he couldn't deny that the feeling that stirred up alongside the familiarity was not lost on him.

"Let's just focus on the case." Gideon is muttering, and Aaron doesn't think he's ever appreciated the old man more.

It's barely a few moments before Aaron's being pulled from his head. The space that had been allotted to the team was nice enough, it would do for the time being. You watch them appraise the space, hands clasped in front of you like you were waiting for their reactions. "Thank you, it's perfect!" he breaches the first conversation between the both of you, and your eyes seem to light up, shoulders jumping at the not-quite praise. He notes then that you must not get a lot of 'good jobs' from your superiors.

"It's the least we could do, honestly." and you shrug slightly. "My boss won't like that I'm saying this, but we're really backed against a wall here." you lower your tone a bit. "If your team wasn't available, we'd be in a bind." you admit, and Aaron is familiar with the sentiment. His team did a lot of good work. "But, if I'm honest, I am kind of surprised to see you in the midst of the fray." you pivot, showing off all your pretty teeth as Aaron's lips quirk involuntarily.

You'd always been a vibrant person, the kind that could pull the sun out from behind storm clouds. That was something no amount of time could help him forget, and as you let your smile reach your eyes, the crinkle reminds him of a time before all the death, violence, and trauma he'd become accustomed to with the life he'd chosen for himself. "I'm hoping it's a bit of a happy surprise?" he says, because despite the circumstances, this was still you of all people.

"More than a bit." you reply instantly. "Honestly, the circumstances are God-awful, but it is nice to know that the 'little Aar Hotchner' that used to sit in our kitchen for breakfast, is the unit chief of an entire FBI unit." you say, and Aaron knows whether they want to be obvious or not, the team are eavesdropping, minds split between starting at their work, and hoping for a bit of insight into who their boss had once been. He'd deal with the fallout of that later.

"Little?" he says unconvinced, as you breathed out a small laugh.

"Okay, maybe not so little at all." you correct yourself teasingly. "I just- I can't believe that I'm actually seeing you again." and your head tips to the side like you're actually just coming to the realization.

"Yeah, you were a ghost for a bit there after your graduation." and it hits you like a ton of bricks. The last time you'd seen Aaron Hotchner it had been when he'd shown up to your high school graduation. Eighteen year old you, who'd been more than eager to leave Virginia behind and start your real life. That was almost ten full years ago.

"Yeah." you agree with a small nod. "Wow." and you exhale through your nose. "Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, I wish I could say I was surprised, but honestly you've always been the bossy type!" you tease before you can really stop yourself, and it catches you both off guard when Aaron actually laughs.

"I guess I could say the same thing about you. You know, I almost didn't recognize you coming in. Being in charge though... it suits you." and this causes you to brim with nervousness, a nervousness you hadn't felt since you were a kid. You knew you were good at your job, you'd fought hard to get it, and you would do anything to maintain it, but it didn't come with a lot of friends, or congratulations, or even just a small bit of encouragement. It was a thankless role.

Somehow Aaron saying something so minute was enough to set all your doubts and second guesses about yourself at ease. Something that he seemed to have never grown out of practice with.

"Thanks, Aar." you say quietly, and you look like you want to say more, but then your phone is buzzing in your pocket, and you're pulled back into a different headspace. The kind that had no time for laughter, for catching up, or anything outside of business. You check your phone, head pivoting to look at that big clock on the wall, and you sigh.

"Everything okay?"

"My boss is running late, won't be back until tomorrow. Which means this is now officially my case." you express, and Aaron understands your plight. The sudden pressure, the way you must have been nervous.

"That's what we're here for." he reminds you politely, treading lightly. "So you won't have to do this one by yourself." Aaron continues, as you blink away your awe. "And like I said, leadership suits you, you'll probably have the whole office in shape in no time." he offers you more encouragement, and you wonder how it could be possible to leave someone behind, and come back to them holding the same amount of space in your heart.

"Thank you." you let out a tired exhale. "I should go. I was expecting him to handle a few things, but now that it's on me... I have a lot more work to do." and you open and close your hand, flexing your fingers as you shuffle awkwardly. "I'm sorry-" you begin, and Aaron is waving you off, face pinching up in a way that was not quite like him.

"Don't. It'll give us time to think." and he's speaking for the team, who he knows don't need much to find a breakthrough.

"Right. It was-" and you look like you're not sure if you want to continue. "It was really good to see you again, Hotchner." and you stumble a bit as you take a small step towards him. "Just-" and you blink a few times. "Let me know if you need anything." you express, "Anything at all." and the emphasis isn't too lost on him as you beam up at him like you were remembering every last thing you ever recalled about him.

It takes you a second to note that the rest of the team is zoned in on the both of you, and you're immediately making your smile drop, taking a step back. "Uh-" you extend a hand, motioning to the entire group. "All of you." you offer, "If any of you need anything, my office is just up there!" and you point across hq to a large office surrounded with glass doors looking out into the bullpen. "Thank you again for your help." and you're looking at Hotch again, an almost sorrowful look on your face as you offer a smile before you take your leave.

Aaron finds it impossible to pull his eyes away from you, because you were so completely different from who he remembered. But some parts were still the same. He blinks away these thoughts, mostly because the loudest thought in his mind is of Haley and the baby they were expecting. But what were the odds that you of all people would be here. He catches the intense stare of Gideon, and both his eyebrows jump. Jason had a way of reading people like no one else.

He doesn't want to know what he found as he examined Hotch. So instead, Aaron beelines towards Morgan and Reid, hoping to hover long enough to get his head back in the game. If they notice the way his eyes would scan the office every so often, if only to catch a glimpse of you, they say nothing.

So he doesn't say anything either.

[passmethatcokezero]

hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au) pt. 2

- jihoon x fem!reader - 4.4k words - warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, here comes the hoo-haa!, penetration, mention of pills (ALWAYS use protection!), overstimulation, loud af on bed!jihoon (we love a moaning and whimpering man) goshwhy is needy Jihoon so hot, friends-to-lovers (almost), some fluff here and there. enjoy! - tagging: @cherrylovescheol @syluslittlecrows

[ part one ]

The clothes that once added a sense of thrill to your heated session were now flying across the room. No more game-changers or whatnot, there is a mutual craving to be satisfied and you both wanted it now.

Albeit having your patience tested by the journey home, the kiss you two shared has never been this innocent and slow (not like you two have had so many.) This time felt like something in the air had just shifted, and you two were savoring the newfound connection. His weight on top of yours, lightly, careful not to crush you. Slightly suffocating as your mouth is being occupied but still bearable, it even makes you feel safe and comfortable. Your hands softly treading through his hair until you found a spot to tug onto as he deepens the kiss, dipping his now bare hips to the bare yours.

The hint of contact of his hardened cock to your dripping pussy had you arching your back, almost pulling his hair as you unintentionally broke the kiss. He smirked, trying to hide the hiss he just made and how the contact almost had him exploding as well. You were too wet for his sanity, and he knows it’s because of him, and now only for him.

“So… how would you like to be fucked tonight, princess?”

You choked, almost wanting to slap him for making you laugh, or maybe you weren’t used to him actually calling you princess in ways other than snarky, when he only called you that to mock you for your bratty tendencies.

“I’d like to make it quits. You made me feel like royalty earlier.” He kisses your neck down to your chest.

“Actually, I don’t mind the tempo right now.” You had your eyes close, trying to feel the trail of kisses his supple lips leave onto your shivering skin. “Just don’t tease too much or—”

“Or what?” he smirks once again, this time being a full-time menace, rubbing his dripping tip against your wet folds.

“Fuck you,” you glared at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed from annoyance mixed with lust. “Fuck you, Jihoon.”

“My pleasure, princess.”

Jihoon cannot stop thinking, does edging turn you on? Or you just wanted to take your time? He knows he isn't your first. You had told him about the guy you met in college, a total bastard who left some cash the next morning and a rather sweet note of thanks as if it could console your shattered ego. Or that selfish one who only fucked you for quick satisfaction. And this woman who made you feel so good you almost had a thing for scissors until you realized it was just a spur of the libido confusing your sexuality.

But Jihoon, he never told you he actually never had sex. The workaholic never had a relationship, but somehow you had always thought he must have been getting laid because how on earth could he subtly refer to making love on some of his lyrics if has not had one? The only thing you knew about his sex life was how he actually had his own moments most of the time, just like how he confessed in the studio earlier. Oh and that one time you gifted him a fleshlight as a payback for gifting you a vibrator on your eighteenth birthday because you imposed on him and your group of friends that you will only be accepting useful things for your birthday from then on (that was the first time he called you princess, by the way).

His hand made its way to your abdomen down to your mound, even though his dick was itching to just finish the night off. But like what he said, it’s his pleasure to give you a royalty treatment tonight.

His finger did not need much time to tease your opening, and slips right into your hole with ease. “Jihoon-ah…” you whimpered his name, as his mouth met yours after telling you how tight you were.

His slender finger creating friction with your hole was enough to send you into a moaning mess while his mouth conquers your chest, giving both nipples attention as equals as he can.

“So wet, for me.” Indeed, he was right. You must like edging and keeping your release until you cannot anymore. What a naughty princess, he thinks. Another finger joins in, knowing one cannot stretch you out to his size. 

Jihoon’s is thick, there’s no denying you had your fair share of curiosity about it since you have seen a hint of it when he wears his favorite sweatpants. But of course, you wanted to remain wholesome so you just shrug away some unthinkable thoughts that once crossed your mind, at least that was before the first kiss you two shared. Ever since then, there had been a few times you allowed yourself to think about him when you were horny because, how would it feel, having that kind of feisty relationship with someone you hold close?

“Aren’t you a little too tight?” Beads of sweat were already forming on his forehead and you were unsure if he was just exerting a lot of effort fingering you, or maybe holding himself from jumping into you. He retracts his hand and kisses you again, before slipping his fingers coated in your juice straight into his mouth. He moaned into a lip bite. How come you tasted so sweet, just like how he must have imagined?

He was really down bad and aching for you he did not have any idea he just said that out loud.

“You’ve thought of me?”

“What? Did I…?”

You chuckled at how his eyes went wide, “Yes, you just said that out loud.”

“God I’m fucked…” He mumbled under his breath.

“You can have more,” you told him, widening your legs which signalled him to get in between and he did not waste time thinking if you really just said that, just like how he did not catch himself saying his thoughts out loud.

His mouth was warm, making you feel things and even questioning yourself if you’re doing something so sinful right now, having someone not your boyfriend eating you out while you were arching your back and moaning his name out loud for your neighbors to hear. You can’t help it, his tongue was so good flicking your clit and playing with your hole while sending vibrations through his moans, all the while staring at you with hooded eyes like was trying to engrave that image of you writhing under his spell in his mind to become a memory he would like to go back to anytime he wanted to. Oh, you’re just so glad he is just married to his work and nobody else. 

There were tears in your eyes already, trying to hold back the impending release. He was just so naturally talented at eating you out that you did not realize you were humping his mouth wanting for more. Jihoon, who has been really attentive throughout the night, tried to increase intensity when he heard your moans pitching higher, turned airy as if you were losing your voice to the nirvana you surrendered yourself into.

“Jihoon, I’m close… fuck…” his fingers once again made contact with your hole, fucking your spot as his tongue focused its pressure on your clit. The stimulation was too much taht you began seeing white at the back of your eyes, and not long enough you were clenching around his fingers.

“Go on, come for me,” amid the clouding of your hearing, you heard Jihoon’s voice sounded hoarse, which made you feel even hotter causing you to squirm and finally release your cum.

He was quick to slurp you clean of your release, humming at every sip as if it was his favorite drink. Not even coke zero can make him moan the way your taste quenches his thirst for you.

He then wipes his mouth with his arm, “I can have that all day,” he hisses and proceeds to make your mouth his again, tasting yourself in the process. It was wild, you thought, you’ve never really tasted your own even though you had been curious before. And now you just had to, straight from your friend’s delectable tongue.

The kiss once again turns somewhat slow, as you calm yourself from your high while he preserves his energy for perhaps another round if you’re not too tired enough. Anyway, his cock is still hard. It's like a never-ending cycle now because you wanted him to come, a testament to the kind of relationship you have—a very generous one. 

“I like how you kiss me…” you blurted all of a sudden. “They feel like… confessions I have never gotten.”

His eyes meet yours, a gaze like a thousand stars have been sucked inside it. It was one you’ve rarely seen him with, one which only comes out when he talks about how proud he is of the current song he is working with, or that one time you two had hours of debate over the best animes you have ever watched.

“Never gotten? Or never taken?” he wanted to ask, rhetorically that is, but his lips never moved, nor his voice made even a minute of a sound. He’d rather kiss you again, and tell you more of the words that had stayed hidden behind the walls of his mouth. He’d rather have his tongue tied for now, if it means with yours and let his actions speak. Even if you won’t still get it.

He liked the way you kissed him too, if only he could tell. He liked how your mouth synchronizes with his, and moves in perfect harmony. He liked how you get sloppy sometimes when you are trying to catch your breath, or how you adjust when it is him who gets messy because his mind just can’t control his speed. Or how you moan inside his mouth, warm breath enveloping his wet cavern that sends electricity throughout his body. He liked the way his tongue fights for dominance with yours, but even more so when they’re just simply dancing to the rhythm of his heartbeats.

Lost in thoughts, he did not realize you had him toppled over until he felt your hand over his chest, and your damp folds grazing against his girth.  “Ah fuck…” both of you chorused, making him chuckle.

“If you want it so bad…”

“Yeah, acting as if you weren’t the one who almost broke my door coming here.” you rebutted, rolling your eyes.

“It got stuck!”

“It’s extra protection!”

“Oh shit, now that you said it” he suddenly perks up, “I almost forgot,” he says squandering about to get to his pants, flailing to the air a foil packet he had been keeping in his wallet. 

“Are you sure that thing is not expired?”

He scoffs as he makes his way back to bed, “actually, maybe.” he checks the packet and to his horror, it has been way past due. “Yeah yeah, way to slap me in the face. Thanks, universe.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to laugh, oh my gosh.” you were almost brought to tears by the comedic timing of it all. He really had not gotten laid. Poor boy, everyone knows he very much deserved it considering he had been busy his entire life.

“I have pills, don’t worry.” his face lights up, but it is still evident how annoyed he was at the situation.

“I’m sorry, I… I won't forget next time…” and then his own words struck him. “Shit, I mean—”

You chuckled at the flushing of his face. He looked so embarrassed, you did not have the heart to tease him anymore assuming there would be more sexy encounters after today. Besides, you’ve been craving for some action now.

“You know I can always keep you company—that is until I get myself a boyfriend,” you pulled him close, as you settled underneath him, head nested in between his two arms that support his weight.

His eyes once again turned soft, as one hand began tracing your cheek, trailing to the back of your ear. “I think… I know someone,” nose scrunching while smiling ear to ear, his eyes turned crescent at his own words, cringing at what sounded like a hard-sell.

“Oooh, I’d like to meet him,” your smirk drowns in the kiss that once again began, while his body shifts so that his tip aligns with your entrance. Your knees instinctively wrap around his waist. 

“I’m going in, “ he says in courtesy when he had his head right in your opening, making both of you gasp for air. You didn’t even ask for it but nonetheless had you melting for his consideration, especially when he adds, “You wanted it slow, right?”

And with your nod, he goes in painfully slowly that gradually leaves you in pleasure. He was hard and thick, your hole contracting to his size as it delicately found its way inside. It was your first time for so long you forgot dicks can get this big. You clung onto him, while his mouth rested just by your ears, whispering sweet nothings to comfort you.

He kisses you passionately as your warmth envelopes him whole, taking time for you to adjust. He was a perfect fit inside, as if his cock was molded out of your hole, and it's driving you crazy the breathy moans just wont stop coming out of your lungs. You slowly opened your eyes and it was met by his, looking intently at your face with the same thought plastered on his face: you want him just as much as he wants you—both your eyes tell, no words needed. 

He began moving his hips in long thrusts to initiate his rhythm. Mouths hovering over another, catching each others’ breaths as your hips met his. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath as he increases his speed as well as the depth of his thrust. “You feel so, so good.”

Jihoon was just as loud as you are, if not louder. You kinda liked it, a man moaning to his pleasure, not afraid to admit how needy he can be nor stingy for reactions. And you had to admit, it just turned you on even more. 

“Jihoon… fuck… you’re so hot.” 

Jihoon, feeling the rush of wetness from inside you and also hearing his name through your whimpers, was going insane stopping himself not to pound onto you, drilling into your hole until you were begging for mercy. You were just so wet that it makes it so much easier to thrust inside deeper and faster, but he can save it for another time. For now, you were his princess, he keeps reminding himself. He’s got orders to fulfill, unless you amend it yourself, he will gladly obey.

“You’re so fucking wet… and tight… fuck.” he trailed the last word as he increased his intensity unknowingly, which you didn’t mind. 

“Harder… please…” 

He follows suit, pulling far and pushing deep into you in perfectly timed intervals. He definitely got rhythm, perks of being a composer, you thought, you have to tell him that later as a compliment.

“Like that, oh sh- ahh…” you cannot even form words anymore, the way he makes you feel so good was almost inconveniencing the wiring of your brain. Your body now sprawled on the bed, no other movements, just your back arching and…

And your fingers interlaced with his.

The scene felt like two passionately infatuated people making love. You two were connected south of your heated bodies, but that did not seem enough for him; he had to lock his free hand with yours just by his chest.  Heck you did not even notice how he planted kisses on the back of your hand when you were busy trying to savor how inch by inch your hole gets filled.

He is great in bed, you gotta admit, and he can be romantic as well. Why was he single again?

“I… I think I’m…” close. He knows. He felt you clenching around him.

“Yeah,” he speeds up, as he can feel him coming too. “Together?”

You nod mindlessly, gasping at the speed he is now going. The pitch ofn his moans went higher, almost sounding like a cry. The thrusting went on not long before both of you finally climaxed in unison. His forehead rests on yours, hand on your cheeks and weight slumped onto you as he rides out your high. He’d like to believe that got him tired, but not exhausted. He can definitely go for rounds given he gets rest for a while, if he gets permission that is.

He groans as he pulls himself out, a decision which gained a whine from you. The guy just chuckles as he pumps himself dry. The view looked mesmerizing, him with an afterglow, sweaty in full glory, and face contorting to pleasure accompanied by guttural moans he did not try to suppress even a bit. You imagined, does he look like that, flushed in red, shining from the little light inside the room, when he touches himself?  You thought there's nothing sexier than a JIhoon who is fully immersed in his projects. Well, you just have gotten corrected.

You leaned into him, feeling his breath touch your lips. Your eyes still hooded from your release, and you’re still a bit sensitive but damn, you’re craving for more.

“You look hot like that,” you just had to say it. There’s nothing to lose in being honest in words and in action, right?

“Uh-huh, how’s that for a boyfriend?”

“I’d love it,” You bit your lips, standing on your knees to straddle him in between. Your eyes are still hooded, and your hole sensitive. But damn, your friend over here just looked a little too irresistible and you just craved for more.

You sat on his thigh as your mouth found its way to his neck, hitting that sweet spot of his right off the bat. He was hissing at the contact, leaning backwards with support of his one arm. “No way… You’re going to make me hard again in no time.”

That’s exactly what you were aiming for. The night has just started anyway. Might as well spend the whole time enthusiastically riding out fantasies. Jihoon himself had too many of them. He got advantage, he need not think hard and just live the dream. Daydeams, rather.

The guy cannot believe he is not gonna touch his fleshlight tonight. You were here right on top of him, making out as you went down on him, reaching the twitching target that was just gaining filled up yet again.

Your tongue traced his shaft from its base, maintaining eye contact with him. He tried so hard to keep it, but failed because your naughty tongue makes it difficult for him to. The process was all too familiar, you had your own practices at this very mattress accompanied by your dildo when you’re alone. The fascinating thing now is that you witness it grow right in front of your eyes as you give your full attention to it.

“How are you so good at this—hmmphhfuck!” His brows are furrowed and mouth hanging wide, obviously having the time of his life watching your mouth take him in whole. He has gone full erect in no time after bucking his hips for a few seconds and then deciding he misses your pussy around him.

“Come here baby,” he pulls you for a kiss, with your knees automatically straddling him in between. It was like he had been away for a long time the way your arms wrapped around his shoulder, kissing him deeper. Your throbbing wet folds full of arousal was resting against his pulsating girth, making you moan in between kisses.

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of you,” his kisses went sloppy as he goes into your neck, and also your chest, giving your erect nipples more attention it deserves.

“God… I need you too, Jihoon-ah…. I need more please….”

You did not need to beg, but hearing it with your needy voice and lustful eyes had him acting from adrenaline, pulling your body closer, groping you as if you would even run away from his arms. His cock was poking your entrance by then, and you let yourself sink on it almost immediately without warning.

“Fuck!” screamed halfway through, when Jihoon himself thrusted up so he can fill you in, albeit he himself is still a bit sensitive.

The sting was quick to be washed out by sensual gratification as the overstimulation picked up your pace when you began riding him. 

“Holy shit,” tears well up in your eyes, as you writhe in pleasurable pain. Jihoon too was moaning out loud, gaining his momentum in thrusting upwards as fast as he could. Your bodies were clinging into each other, sweats mixing and skin slapping, but nothing matters. Not the sound of pattering rain drops outside the window, nor the volume of your moans that may have already reached the maximum your walls can hide, not even the creaking of the bed that has reached the floorboards. Only the pleasure you share is important right now, and nothing should come in between.

“Hold it, please…” Jihoon spoke in behind his gritted teeth when he felt you clenching around him. “Please… just….a little bit more…” He goes on thrusting, losing his rhythm once in a while due to his greed in taking his precious time with your clenched pussy.

You can feel him holding his release as well through his flexed thigh muscles and his eyes shut tight. “Fuck I dont wanna cum yet… i dont wanna cum… please….”

You were already shaking your head, arms hugging him tight to support yourself. His moans suddenly dips as he chokes on his own, and then gradually changes into whimpers like he is the neediest person in town.

“Ji… I can’t….hold it—” exhaling a breathy moan, you squirmed in his arms, head falling down his shoulder while panting heavily from your release. Jihoon came simultaneously, filling you up as he stayed inside for a while, catching his breath to its normality. Both pulsating and sensitive, no one dared to move a single muscle.

It took a while when one of you was consciously looking for the other’s lips. It was a simple kiss, a short one, but holds a lot of words he’s been meaning to tell you. He cooes, your name sweetly slipping off his drying throat.

“Hmm?” you hummed, as you rested your forehead against his, letting his hand cup your cheeks. 

“What do you think?”

You chuckled at his words. He is insufferable. He really can’t wait until you’re all cleaned up and cozy? 

“Actually, save it. I gotta clean up my princess before anything else.”

If there was an award for being the most outstanding service of an aftercare, Jihoon would have another plaque to be displayed somewhere not in his studio. It was a premium experience, even getting warm towels for the both of you before submerging you in a hot, bubble bath, complete with aromatherapy applying your lavender-scented lotion all over you right after. Stepping out of the bathroom in robes, he goes straight to your kitchen, you following him behind. He insisted actually, he wanted you to stay comfortable in your room, but you figured you did not need that right now. You just enjoyed his company way too much tonight, and you can’t seem to find another spot at home comfortable unless he was right beside you.

He prepares you a cup of warm tea just as how you preferred while he picks some drink available in your fridge.

“Banana milk? Are you sure? I’ve got juice over there.”

“Yeah, this is fine.”

“Sorry, no soda.” you shrugged with an apologetic smile.

You were sitting at the high chairs by your mini bar, with him by the edge as he pokes the carton with the straw. You stared at him for a moment, head full but no thoughts being formed.

“Ah, you were asking earlier,” you broke the stare before he senses it. “I’d be honest with you and say, that was probably the best sex I have ever had so far.”

“Pfft,” he laughs, without looking at you, trying to hid the blush forming on his cheeks. Too bad you can see his ears reddening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” at this point you were trying to calm the butterflies that started fluttering inside your stomach, distracting yourself as you dunk the teabag in the fully saturated cup of water. What is this sudden, stupid feeling in your gut? “Gotta give credit to your musicality. You’ve got a perfect rhythm. Oh and how your moans harmonized with mine. It literally sounded like music. You were also good with your mouth, and how you touch me. Attentive as well, the entire night. And the aftercare was a total royal treatment! And uhm…” you paused when you realized you were just babbling, staring at the ripples created by swirling the teaspoon in your tea. “Oh my gosh… sorry I got carried away.”

“No it was fine, I think I also wanted to hear that. Like a feedback you know,”

“for reference next time, huh?”

He chokes on his drink, dipping his head down in embarrassment. “No I mean…”

“I am looking forward to it,” you muttered cutting his words, as your eyelashes fluttered, feeling a bit tired yet relaxed.

He looks at you in full adoration, and a hint of boosted ego. God, why are you the most beautiful person in the world and why is he lucky to have you this close to him? Even looking forward to next time?

“I do too. I actually think we’re compatible in bed…” he says rather shyly in reference with what you told him earlier. 

“Right…” you trailed. He meets your eye almost a millisecond long (short), and goes to sip his beverage until it’s empty. He breathes deeply, as he disposes of the trash all the while avoiding any contact with your eyes as he came back, not able to hide how he suddenly feels so nervous around you right now. You can’t help but shake your head. Gosh, Jihoon, can’t you be any more dense than this?

“We do seem compatible, no?” you continued, waiting for him to look at you again. He does, revealing the blush that never left his face, and your next words deepens its hue even more.

“...how’s that for a girlfriend?”

hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it! ^^

[xhyjin]

yanderenanami! who was your boss when you two first met? you were an intern at the company he worked at, assigned to be his personal assistant and tend to his needs, handling tasks like making reservations, scheduling his appointments/meetings, and basically all the small stuff he couldn’t waste any company time on. your relationship was strictly professional. you two never spoke unless you needed his confirmation on something; other than that, it was pure silence.

yanderenanami! you had been working with him for the past 8 months as an intern, and you were seeing no signs of getting the job permanently. you had no choice; you couldn’t waste any more time as an intern—you had loans to pay off and bills to take care of! when you knocked on his office door and heard a low grumble of “come in,” you walked into his office with your resignation letter behind your back. “mr. nanami, i need you to sign something off for me,” you asked, expecting it to be another application or something for approval. but when you handed him the envelope, he raised an eyebrow. “what’s this?” he said, not even letting you answer as he opened the envelope and read it. looking at you and then the envelope, he said, “you’re quitting?” you nodded, not knowing what to say. he just sighed and signed it off before handing it back to you.

yanderenanami! you walked out of his office dumbfounded by his lack of sympathy. i mean, he didn’t even say goodbye or anything along the lines of “it was great having you here,” but what did you expect? he had always been stoic and nonchalant since the day you started working there. you packed away the little stuff you had on your desk in front of his office, a bit bummed that you didn’t get the job, but you weren’t going to continue working for free. you walked into the elevator, thinking you would never see mr. nanami again either as the elevator doors shut.

yanderenanami! he immediately called one of his buddies when you walked out of his office—the one who was good at keeping tabs and dealing with situations like yours: toji fushiguro. he told him straight up what he needed, which was you, but he wasn’t going to ask toji to kidnap you or anything extreme. he just wanted him to keep track of where you were, who you were with, what you were doing, and all the usual details. that way, he could have some time to plan something out, something special for you.

yanderenanami! who spent weeks planning everything for your “arrival,” setting up cameras in every corner, barricading any exits from the inside, keeping sharp or harmful objects away, and most of all, creating a perfect little room for you to spend your time in. you were going to be there for a long time, and maybe a good time. he had toji along with shiu parked outside your place. It was in the middle of the night, and due to your circumstance, you didn’t live in the best part of town, so cameras or police or civilians were nowhere in sight, which was perfect for him but not perfect for you. he unlocked your door with the duplicate key that toji had made, tiptoeing into your house like a thief and up the stairs to your single bedroom where you lay like a princess in slumber. he carefully placed a cloth on your nose, making sure not to hurt you in the process, and as he felt you fall into an unconscious state that wasn’t slumber, he carefully tossed you over his shoulder before making his way out of the house and into the van that was parked outside.

yanderenanami! who watched you sleep peacefully as shiu drove to nanamis house that was on the other side of town, a gated neighbourhood where only the elites lived, where you would be safe. he knew that shiu and toji might me wondering who you were or why you were in this situation but he didn’t care all that he cared about was that he finally got you and he will never let you go.

yanderenanami! who carried you into his house, which was prepared for your “visit,” carefully taking you up the stairs as you lay unconscious in his arms to the room he had prepared for you. he placed you down on the bed, tucking you in with a faint smile on his lips. he didn’t want you to be scared when you woke up, so he placed a stuffed animal—your favorite—beside you and left the room, his heart beating fast as he couldn’t believe he had you all to himself now.

yanderenanami! who woke up in a panic the next day when he heard your scream but quickly calmed down once he realized what was happening. of course, you would scream—you had fallen asleep in your room, only to wake up in a perfect replica of it, but with an eerie feeling lingering in the air.

he quickly threw on a shirt and sweats, making his way to your room, which was heavily locked and barricaded. when he finally opened the door, he saw you curled up in the corner, legs pulled to your chest as you trembled in fear. but the moment your eyes met his, something shifted.

as he stepped closer, a small smile played on his lips. “relax,” he said, his hands reaching out, almost like how you’d show a dog you were friendly. “you’re safe now, okay? it’s just me.” his voice was calm, reassuring, as he crouched down to your level, gently patting your head.

“i’ve got you now.”

[prettyfilmz]

SWEET LIKE CANDY • JEY USO

author’s note: did someone say new mini series ? 👀 well yes! although writing is gonna be quite slow due to school starting backup, I wanted to leave you guys with something cute starring our 2025 royal rumble winner jey uso🤭 forgive me for not giving you smut in this first part but trust me when I say it’ll be worth it in the long run. I hope you enjoy this my loves, and happy reading💗 (p.s. I made a playlist to go along with it, you can shuffle it up too🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ you can find it here)

synopsis: in which a celebration at the strip club leads to the beginning of a love affair between a wrestler and a dancer.

pairing: jey uso x black fem oc!cherise aka candy

tags: 18+ (there’s no smut but still has suggestive themes), slow burn, drinking, lap dances, lewd conversations, teasing, lots of touching, kissing, pet names (baby, mama, pretty girl. baby girl), flirty banter, jey falls for her at first glance.

word count: 2k words (somethin’ short n sweet😌)

The bass reverbs through the strip club, rattling the walls like a second heartbeat. The air was thick with marijuana smoke, spilled drinks, and anticipation. It was the kind of place that dared you to loosen up, a melting pot of the desperate, the indulgent, and those just looking to forget about the realities of their day to day lives.

Jey, sitting on the edge of a low velvet couch, nursed a glass of hennessy, his dark brown eyes surveying the scene with feigned disinterest. Jimmy, on the other hand, leaned back beside him, grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, a few shots in and already loving every second of the night.

“This the spot, Uce,” Jimmy drawled, gesturing at the stage. “Told you. Ain’t no better way to celebrate your Rumble win than seeing a few bad ones tearing it up on the stage.”

Jey wasn’t convinced. He leaned forward, elbows on his jean covered knees, his silver chain glinting in the low light. “Man, you know this ain’t my scene. I only came ‘cause y’all don’t shut up. Coulda stayed home, kicked my feet up, and played my game.”

Jimmy clicked his tongue. “Nah, Uce. This is a night of celebration. Tonight’s the night we get you to let loose.” He raised his glass in a mock toast.

Across the room, Trinity —or her stage name called her—Naomi. The long-legged, dark skinned goddess with waist-length black & neon green braids and thighs to die for worked her magic. She straddled some middle-aged white guy in a button-down, grinding with a confidence that made her the club’s crown jewel. She caught Jimmy’s eye and gave a sly smile with a wink for good measure.

“Yo, there she go!” Jimmy grinned, practically bouncing in his seat. “My girl, Trin. You see that, Jey? That’s art. Respect the glow.”

Jey rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “Bruh, you actin’ like she your girl for real.”

“She is though,” Jimmy shot back, the grin never leaving his face. And it wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t even subtle about it. Whenever Jimmy showed up, Trinity made a beeline for him, and they always disappeared into the VIP section.

Jey chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You wild.”

But his attention shifted when the next dancer strolled onto the stage.

“Alright fellas, hold onto your Benjamin’s ‘cause it’s about to get sweet up in here! Coming to the stage, she’s sugar, spice and everything nice, with curves so delicious you’ll forget your own name. Be careful though, she might leave you with some cavities by the end of the night. Give it up for the lovely Candy!”

The second she stepped out, the crowd of men leaned forward, like hungry sharks. She wasn’t like the others though. She was new, fresh-faced, and a bundle of nerves. But that didn’t matter right this second. She played the part, masking her shyness behind a seductive smile that could melt anyone with a pulse.

Candy was beyond gorgeous. Her smooth, brown skin shimmered under the stage lights, and the crimson two-piece she wore clung to every dip and swell of her body. Her hips swayed to the R&B song, deliberate, teasing.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy whistled low. “New girl got somethin’ fierce, huh?”

Jey was speechless, he couldn’t look away. Her curly hair was pulled into a updo, soft coils framing her soft, heart-shaped face. Full lips painted glossy pink parted into a playful pout as she ran her hands down her figure, playing to the crowd. But her eyes. Those big, dark, and doe-like eyes held a hint of innocence she couldn’t quite shake.

“Yeah, somethin’ for sure,” Jey muttered under his breath, heat pooling low in his groin.

Candy noticed him immediately. She was used to clients ogling her—most of them practically drooled or disgustingly grabbed their crotch in front of her—but he was different. He had this calm, magnetic energy, like he was letting her come to him. It made her stomach flip, even as she forced her most sultry grin.

When her set ended, and the applause faded, Candy slipped off the stage. But not before glancing over her shoulder and locking eyes with Jey.

♡

"You heard who's out there tonight, right?" Trinity grinned, her deep brown eyes glinting with mischief as she adjusted the thin straps of her bra. "You about to be real blessed, baby girl."

Cherise arched a perfectly sculpted brow, feigning disinterest. "Oh yeah? Who?"

Trinity sucked her teeth, nudging her shoulder. "Don’t act cute, Cher. The man of the damn hour is in VIP. Your VIP, might I add."

Cherise played coy, but her stomach did a little flip. She’d already heard that Jey Uso was here tonight. And apparently, he was her very first private dance.

Her pulse raced.

"He cute or whateva,” she said, glossing over the fact that she was a fan. She’d watched him claw his way to being a singles star. And now he was here, in her club, about to have her in his lap.

Trinity laughed, low and knowing. "Oh, he real cute, baby. And he got that mouth on him. Knows how to talk to a woman, make her feel good." She winked, nudging her shoulder with her own.

Cherise rolled her eyes but smiled. "You sound like you speaking from experience."

"Nah, Jimmy got my full attention," Trinity purred, licking her lips. "Speaking of which, you know that man is gonna be deep in this pussy before the night over. So if you hear me any noise, mind your business."

Cherise giggled, shaking her head. "Y’all so damn nasty."

Trinity flipped her braids over her shoulder. "Mmhmm, and you 'bout to be nasty too. Just don’t let Jey have you falling, mama. These wrestlers? They dangerous."

Cherise smirked. "I can handle myself."

Trinity just laughed, giving her ass a playful slap before strutting off toward VIP.

Cherise exhaled slowly, fixing the sheer, sparkly robe draped over her curvy figure.

Showtime.

♡

The VIP room was warm, lit with soft purple lights that shined against the dark leather couch and mirrored walls. Private, sensual. The kind of space that invited sin.

Jey sat in the middle of it, legs spread, shades still covering his eyes, hands resting on his thick thighs.

He looked too good, too comfortable, like he belonged there with his chains glinting under the dim lighting. And he was waiting for her.

Cherise stepped inside, hips swaying slow, the confidence she wore so well settling around her like perfume. She was used to this, knew the game, knew how to keep them entertained just enough to keep ‘em hungry. But this was Jey.

And she already knew—he was different.

Jey’s gaze dragged up her body, slow like drizzling honey, lingering on her thick thighs, the way her curves filled out the soft red lace she had on. He smirked, licking his lips. "Damn, mama… that’s what they lettin’ you walk around in back here?"

Cherise stopped in front of him, rolling her hips to the bass-heavy R&B music vibrating through the walls. "You like it, baby?”

"Shit…" Jey let his head tilt back against the couch, eyes dark, hooded. "I love it."

Cherise bit back a grin. "Flatterin’ me ain’t gon’ get you nothin’ extra, baby."

"Who said I was tryna get somethin’ extra?" He grinned. "I’m just speakin’ my truth.”

She let her hands trail over chest, feeling the solid warmth of him and the occasional thump of his heartbeat. "Mmm…I bet you be runnin’ game on every girl in here.”

"Nah." Jey licked his lips. "I’on even be in places like this, baby. My brother dragged me."

"Mmhm." She slid onto his lap, her thighs bracketing his, their faces inches apart. "So if I ask the bouncers how many girls you pulled back here, they gon’ say none?"

Jey exhaled a laugh, fingers flexing on her hips. "They gon’ tell you I been sittin’ in that VIP all night, mindin’ my business."

Cherise hummed, her fingers playing at the chain around his neck. "So what makes me special then?"

Jey tilted his head, watching her close. "You tell me, baby girl." His voice was deep, lazy, smooth as melted honey. "I ain’t the one who picked this dance. You did."

She smirked. "That’s cute."

"Ain’t it?" His grip on her hips tightened, dragging her a little closer. "Nah, for real, I can tell. You move different. You one of them girls that don’t let just anybody dude here, huh?"

"Mm-mm." Cherise dragged her nails lightly over soft curls on the back of his neck. "I’m picky."

"Yeah?" His fingers slid up her back, teasing at the base of her spine. "How I make the cut then?"

"I dunno…” She let her lips brush his jaw, just barely. "Maybe I got a thing for wrestlers."

Jey chuckled, low and deep, squeezing her waist. "You watch me, huh?"

"I keep up."

"Ain’t that somethin’." He leaned in, pressing his nose against her cheek. "And here I was thinkin’ I had to make you a fan."

"Mmm, you still might have to work for it." She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, slow and teasing, right before she rolled her hips against his.

Jey sucked in a breath, his grip turning just a little rougher. “Aye, don’t play wit’ me, pretty girl.”

"Who’s playin’?" She dragged her lips down his throat, slow and deliberate, her hands traveling up his body, feeling the soft tonedness of his stomach. "You like that, Joshua?"

Jey froze.

His hands tensed on her ass, and she felt the shift, the way his whole body reacted to the way his real name left her lips.

"Damn…" He exhaled a quiet laugh, pressing his forehead to hers. "That’s how we doin’ it, huh?”

"Mmm…" She kissed the corner of his mouth. "That’s how I’m doin’ it."

"You somethin’ else, Candy…” His lips grazed hers, barely there, his breath warm against her mouth. "You gon’ drive me crazy, ain’t you?"

"Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

Jey groaned, squeezing her thigh. "You know what’s wild?"

“Enlighten me.”

"You sittin’ on me, talkin’ shit, got me damn near ready to risk everything in this bitch… and you still ain’t tell me your name."

Cherise laughed, slow and sweet, sliding a hand up his throat to his jaw. “You ain’t ask right."

"Oh, so I gotta ask nice?" His lips ghosted over hers again, teasing, taunting, barely touching but still driving her crazy. "That what you want, baby girl?"

"Mmm… maybe…" She let her tongue flick out, just barely tasting his lower lip.

Jey growled, deep in his throat, and finally…finally closed the space, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and damn near dangerous.

Cherise melted into it, letting herself enjoy the way he tasted—Hennessy, something minty, something just Jey. His grip on her waist turned possessive, fingers digging in the flesh of her ass, rolling her just right against him.

His tongue slid against hers, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to memorize her taste.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Time’s up!"

They both froze.

Jey groaned, pulling back, licking his lips like he was pissed about the interruption. "Damn…"

Cherise smirked, slipping off his lap, dragging her fingers down his chest as she stood. "Guess you’ll have to come back if you wanna finish."

Jey leaned back, legs still spread, watching her. "You somethin’ else, girl."

She paused at the door, hesitated then turned back, biting her lip. "Cherise."

"Huh?"

"That’s my name."

Jey exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he watched her walk to the door. She gave him one last look with a small smile perched on her kiss-swollen lips, “Get home safe, Joshua.” and finally exited the room.

"Cherise…" he repeated under his breath, the taste of her cherry flavored lip gloss still plaguing his taste buds in the most amazing way. "Yeah, I’ma see you again, baby girl.”

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[witchywithwhiskey]

say yes + andy barber

(for your fantastic sweethearts game!)

🩷♥️🧡💛💚🩵💙💜

the demon of your dreams

pairing: soft!dark incubus!andy barber x female reader

summary: you catch the attention of an incubus on the day before valentine's day—and it turns out your fates are more intertwined than either of you expected.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), true mates, dubcon/noncon (in this fic an incubus requires consent for certain things but it technically starts off as noncon), somnophilia, teratophilia/monsterfucking, smut, masturbation (m), fingering (f receiving), finger sucking, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, come play, cock warming, choking, breath play, biting/marking, thigh fucking, some overstimulation, dirty talk, praise kink, very brief degradation, pet names (sweet thing/sweet girl), aftercare, referenced marathon sex, happy ending

word count: 5.5k

a/n: thank you, Aspen, for letting me flail at you because i had SO many ideas for this particular character + prompt combination. what i love about Andy is that he can fit into a super fluffy or soft dark or super dark story very easily. (i mean, that's true of a lot of characters, but i feel like i usually lean one way or the other with most characters and with Andy, i'm never quite sure where i want to go.) anyway, this one might require a bit more suspension of disbelief than normal and sorry if the ending is a bit rushed, work was BRUTAL today 🫠 thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy this filthy little fic!! ♡♡

For an incubus like Andy Barber, Valentine’s Day was his favorite day of the year.

There was something particularly decadent about the yearning he sensed among lonely, single women on Valentine’s Day, and he always fed well in the days leading up to the actual holiday. Though the demon had to be careful not to feed too much on any one woman, he never failed to gorge himself on the offerings in the city.

But then he came across you in a coffee shop on the morning before Valentine’s Day, and he hadn’t sensed yearning quite so exquisite as yours in all his many years walking the earth. Watching you from across the shop, he knew you would make an especially delectable meal, his eyes following you closely as he sipped on his Americano. 

You hid your emotions well, Andy noticed, keeping them masked beneath a friendly exterior, a welcoming smile on your pretty face while you chatted with the barista making your drink. To all the world, you looked like anyone else with a charming—if tired—disposition, but to the incubus, you were churning with all the emotions that made you a meal. 

The demon could sense the sadness lurking beneath your smile from the moment you’d stepped into the establishment, and he could practically taste the desperate longing clinging to your soul like a drop of hot chocolate caught on the corner of your lip. 

You wanted, more than anything, to be the object of someone’s lust, to find someone you felt safe enough with that you could be turned into the lustful creature you yearned to be. You wanted someone to lick the chocolate from your lips and sate your desire.

And Andy Barber knew he was the demon for the job. 

In generations past, Andy might’ve used his magic to slip into your dreams, seducing you with images of lust until he received the acquiescence he required to join with you and feed on your soul. But, as the incubus’s years had worn on, he’d found he enjoyed a more physical approach.

There was something so much more satisfying about touching a woman with his fingers, feeling the warmth of her body and breathing in the scent of her skin. He enjoyed the feeling of a woman’s soft curves beneath his palms, groping her and learning what made her gasp gently in her sleep. 

Then, the demon would use her slumberous, disoriented mind and her aching, needy body against her to get what he needed—that permission that allowed him to sink into her body and feed on her soul. 

It was so much more satisfying, and so much more fun, too. 

Of course, that didn’t mean Andy didn’t use his magic to get into your apartment. He unlocked your door with a wave of his fingers, closing and locking it behind him before he masked the footfalls of his shoes as he made his way to your bedroom. 

There, he paused in the doorway and took a moment to look at you, appreciate you while you slept, completely unaware that there was a demon in your room.

A smile curled Andy’s mouth when he discovered that you were far from an elegant sleeper, your body sprawled across your bed beneath the blankets, one leg hiked up while the other curled around a pillow clutched close to your chest. Your face was buried in another pillow, your indelicate snores muffled by its softness. 

And yet…you were cute. Precious even.

Andy felt something fluttery deep in his chest, somewhere in the vicinity of his black heart. Instead of looking too closely at the feeling, he ignored the sensation, chalking it up to the excitement he felt knowing you were going to make for a particularly delicious meal.  

The demon slunk into your room, clinging to the shadows as he moved around to the side of the bed where you lay and tried to gauge whether you were a light sleeper. You didn’t stir when he deliberately stepped on a squeaky floorboard, so he decided to ease closer, his fingertips trailing up your body over the blankets piled on top of you. 

When he pulled them carefully from your slumbering body, a little whimper slipped from your lips, a shiver wracking your shoulders as the cold licked against your skin. Andy quickly used his magic to warm up your room, making it a much more comfortable temperature for your nearly naked form. 

He watched you settle, his eyes roving over the curves of your body. Hungrily, he took in the dip of your waist and the flare of your hips, the way your thin nightshirt had ridden up to tease a glimpse of your perfectly rounded ass. Your thighs were parted, and Andy could just glimpse a hint of your panties, hiding your pretty pussy from sight.

His cock hardened behind his zipper and he nearly groaned at the sinful way your body called to his. Even if the yearning in your soul hadn’t been so enticing, Andy knew he would’ve been drawn to you by the desire you inspired just by existing. 

Once he was sure you were comfortable and had fallen back into a deep slumber, Andy finally allowed himself to touch you. 

His fingers trailed gently over your arms, skimming along your skin before smoothing down your side to your hips and thighs. There, he resisted the urge to dip between your legs just yet, instead learning the curves of your calves and the delicate contours of your ankles. 

All the while, Andy watched your face, monitoring your breathing to make sure you didn’t stir again. 

As he observed you, he noticed you relaxing even further, as if his touch soothed you. He felt another flutter in the proximity of his black heart, and, that time, he couldn’t ignore the way it started beating slightly faster. 

The organ often felt cold and dull in his chest, especially when he was in need of feeding, but it felt like it was coming to life in a way he’d never experienced before, not even after a satisfying meal. And it was all because of the way your body was instinctively relaxing into his touch. 

The demon could almost pretend it was him specifically you were melting for, that even though you hadn’t woken and hadn’t seen his face, he was the only one whose touch could have that effect on your body. 

Andy deliberately ignored the fact that, in all likelihood, you would’ve been soothed by a gentle touch from any man who might share your bed, because that thought inspired a concerning level of rage in him. No, he refused to think of anyone else in your bed but him. You were his.

For the night, at least, he reminded himself, pushing his possessive thoughts to the back of his mind to analyze later. He had much more important things to attend to with your warm body, which would soon be willing, splayed out in front of him like the most tempting meal. 

Finally, Andy allowed his fingers to slip beneath your nightshirt, tugging off your panties and nearly groaning when your hips raised instinctively to allow him to ease them down your thighs. He pulled them off and slipped them into his pocket, thinking nothing of the fact that he’d never taken a souvenir before. 

He was too busy focusing on the feel of your body beneath his fingertips. His hand slipped eagerly between your thighs, and he was surprised to find your soft pussy was already drenched. It felt fated that your body would have such a reaction to him since Andy’s cock was straining painfully against his zipper, aching to sink inside your perfect cunt.

The demon cupped your pussy in his palm, a ferocious possessiveness tearing through his chest as he felt you drip into his hand. You were his. His. His. 

His heart beat harder in his chest, the feeling of yearning in his own black soul so all-consuming, he didn’t have the wherewithal to notice it was completely out of character. 

After all, an incubus like Andy Barber didn’t get attached to his meals. He didn’t feel possessive or territorial over the women he fed on, like a wolf who might tear into anything that threatened to take his most precious lifeline away. 

But the demon could feel himself falling willingly into an obsession with you that wouldn’t be sated from just one night. He just didn’t know it yet.

Acting on instinct more than his typical intention of easing a woman into what he had planned, Andy freed his cock from the confines of his pants, taking himself in his palm while the fingers of his other hand explored your wet, warm pussy.

You were so soft, so hot, and so responsive when Andy sank a finger into your tight hole, a breathy moan slipping from your mouth. The demon felt the newly-familiar beating of his heart in his chest, and he suddenly craved even more of your sounds of pleasure, he wanted them to fill his ears for all eternity. 

Andy stroked his cock dispassionately, needing to take some of the edge off his arousal, but he made sure to squeeze the base tightly to ensure he didn’t cum too soon. All the while, he teased your body open with his deft fingers, preparing you to take his thick length.

When he slipped a second finger into your pussy and saw how easily you took him, he had to bite back a groan. His cock was leaking precum all over his fingers, as if it knew there was a warm hole to push inside and was begging Andy to finally put himself out of his misery by sinking into your sweet, pliant body.

The demon had to force himself to make sure you were ready, Andy carefully pushing a third finger into your pussy, and letting out a restrained growl at the sight of you taking three of his fingers. 

His mouth filled with drool as he watched you take him, the sudden desire to feast on your pussy nearly overwhelming him. He wanted to make you cum on his tongue and mouth for being such a good girl and taking everything he gave you. 

But he told himself that could come later—after he got the answer he needed to give you everything you deserved.

To tide himself over, Andy eased his fingers from your pussy and licked your juices from where they dripped down his hand, savoring the sweet taste of your arousal. You tasted so fucking good, better than anything Andy had ever tasted in his long, long life. 

His groan was so loud in the quiet room that he nearly missed the little whimper of need you let out, your hips shifting like your body was seeking the intrusion that had been filling your tight hole. The sound reached Andy’s ears and his cock jumped in his hand, the amount of blood rushing to his dick nearly making him light-headed.

Finally—finally—Andy joined you in your bed, gently shifting your body into the center of the mattress so he could fit behind you. Your nightshirt was rucked up around our waist, and his cock slipped between your thighs like it was sliding home. The stiff length rubbed against your dripping slit while he pressed flush to your back, his arms gently curling around your body and pulling you into his chest.

A soft, sleepy moan spilled from your mouth and Andy wanted so badly to kiss the sound from your lips, to drink it down and feel it fill his lungs. 

Soon, he told himself. Soon he could kiss the moans from your lips and devour your mouth and ravage every inch of your body until you were well and truly his. But first he needed to get your acquiescence, and he needed to be careful with you until he got it. 

You’d already been laying mostly on your belly, and Andy shifted, covering your body with his own, rocking his hips gently to fuck your soft thighs. His cock dragged against your leaking slit with every smooth thrust, coating himself in your desire and making his heart beat furiously in his chest with the need to push inside your cunt, to claim you, to feed on you until he was more sated than he’d ever felt in his life.

Andy could sense the yearning in your soul deepening as your desire ratcheted up, even while you slept. Your swirling emotions thickened in the air around the bed until the demon felt nearly drunk on you. 

Your yearning, your soul—you yourself—were headier than anything Andy had ever experienced and it took all his self-control not to lose himself and rut you like the beast he was. 

First, he needed your permission. An incubus could only fuck and feed on a willing woman, and Andy needed you to be willing more than he’d needed anything else in his entire life. 

“Give yourself to me, sweet thing,” Andy murmured in your ear, the words coming easily after so many eons as an incubus—though the pet name was new. “Let me sink inside your divine cunt and let me drink on the longing in your heart. Let me feed on the lust in your soul and I’ll reward you with pleasure beyond your imagination.”

The demon could feel you stir beneath him, and his heart thudded painfully in his chest with a desperation he couldn’t remember ever feeling before. But it only pushed him to rock his hips faster, to grip your hip possessively while he fucked between your thighs, dragging the fat length of his cock against every inch of your dripping pussy.

Because of the rules of his kind, Andy needed your permission before he could push inside your body, but he could use every trick at his disposal to tempt you into giving him your acquiescence. An incubus wasn’t above using magic or trickery and though Andy preferred to seduce you with just his touch and his words, he would resort to magic if he needed to. 

But something told him he wouldn’t need to with you. Something told Andy that you were his, and he just needed to ask you sweet enough and you’d grant him the privilege of owning your body and soul for the rest of your natural life.

“Please, my sweet girl,” he rumbled in your ear, letting you hear how badly he wanted you, needed you. “Say yes.”

Thankfully for the demon, you hadn’t roused enough for your mind to wonder why there was a strange man in your bed begging to fuck you. It was clear from your soft, sleepy whimpers that you were still asleep enough to think it was simply a very real-feeling dream. 

Your hand reached back clumsily, your fingers curling around the back of Andy’s neck, using your hold to arch your spine and push your ass deeper into the demon’s lap. A keening sound spilled from your lips, your pussy gushing around the thick cock wedged between your thighs, and you finally gave your answer on a drowsy moan.

“Yes.” 

The word falling from your lips tipped you over the line from sleeping to waking, and you finally realized that what you were feeling wasn’t a dream. It was really happening. There was a man in your bed and, for some reason, you’d given him permission to be there. 

Andy could feel the change in your body, the way your body tensed in fear and confusion. It was natural, of course, and the demon had expected it. But what surprised him were the intricacies of your reaction—the way you still instinctively pulled him closer, your nails digging into the back of his neck, your legs squeezing together and trapping his cock against your pussy with your plush thighs. 

You wanted him, Andy was sure of it, even if your mind was struggling to come to the same conclusion your body had already reached. Oddly, Andy found himself wanting to soothe you, his hand skimming down your side like he was attempting to calm a wild animal.

“Shh, sweet thing, it’s alright, you’re alright,” Andy purred, feeling your muscles slowly relax beneath his hands. 

Every caress of his palm and sweet stroke of his fingers had you softening further, your body surrendering to his soothing touch. Soon, you were even letting your thighs fall open again and Andy rewarded you with a pleased rumbling sound and a kiss brushed to your cheek. 

He shifted his hips back, moving until the tip of his cock was pressed against your tight little hole. That made the muscles of your thighs go taut again, but the demon also heard the way your breath hitched in your throat, like you’d sucked in a gasp of anticipation, not fear. 

Andy gently kneaded your hip, his mouth grazing against the shell of your ear and tickling your skin with his beard. “Let me in, my sweet girl,” he cooed, prodding at your dripping cunt with his leaking tip. “I’ll make you feel so good, pretty thing.”

The soft, whispered pleas and praise from Andy’s lips had you relaxing again, your thighs spreading and your hips lifting in wordless offering. It was too perfect—you were too perfect. The demon couldn’t wait any longer. 

Andy pushed inside your wet heat, letting out a grunt of pleasure when he felt your tightness wrapping around his stiff length. You felt so good, your pussy clinging to his cock and sucking him deeper into the warm depths of your body. He slid home until he was buried to the hilt.

As soon as he was inside you, the world tipped violently on its axis, spinning around the demon in a vicious dizzying swirl that he knew was all in his head. 

It lasted only a second and by the time your bedroom came back into focus, Andy instinctively recognized that his entire universe had realigned, with you—your delicate human body and your fragile beating heart and your precious glowing soul—at the center of it.  

“You’re mine—mine,” Andy growled, his voice preternaturally deep and dark, his arms closing so tightly around your body that he heard the breathe exhale from your lungs and felt your heart beating against your ribcage.

A startled squeak fell from your lips and Andy suddenly realized he was holding you much too tightly, and that he was no doubt scaring you. His grip loosened, his hands moving to comfort you, kneading your soft flesh and groping your curves until you let out a soft, happy sigh. 

“I’ll take such good care of you, sweet thing,” the demon vowed in a husky voice filled with warmth. He nuzzled his face into your cheek, pressing sweet kisses to your jaw and neck, listening to your breathy little giggles at the rasp of his beard. “I only want to make you feel good, I won’t ever hurt you.”

“You…” Your voice was raspy with sleep, giving out on you before you could say what you wanted to say. Andy waited patiently while you swallowed and tried again. “You promise?” 

Andy could feel your pulse fluttering wildly beneath his lips and he smiled into your skin. You were human, so you hadn’t felt what Andy had when your bodies had joined, the fusing of your spirits, and if you needed reassurance with words that he would cherish you and protect you for the rest of your days, then he would happily give it to you.

“Of course, my sweet girl, I swear it.”

The last of the tension that had been lingering in your muscles finally drained out of you, and Andy’s cock pushed another inch deeper, the tip brushing against a spot inside you that had your walls clenching down hard on his length. 

The demon groaned in pleasure, pulling his hips back and sliding into you again, muffling a groan into the crook of your neck when you squeezed him so exquisitely. 

“You feel so good, sweet girl, so perfect,” he murmured into your skin, fucking you in short, rocking thrusts that had you gasping and whimpering softly. “You’re taking me so fucking well, such a good fucking girl.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Andy caught the pleased smile that curled the edges of your mouth at his praise. But then you were turning your face into your pillow and muffling your moans into its softness. 

Andy didn’t like that one bit. He wanted to hear all of your sounds of pleasure—they were his, just like the rest of you—so he wrapped his hand around the front of your throat. Gently enough so he he didn’t hurt you, he lifted your head from the pillow, rumbling a pleased sound in his chest when he could hear every whimper and moan that fell from your lips.

“Good girl, let me hear you—let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Andy urged, rocking his hips harder into you, his cock spearing deep into your tight cunt with every thrust. 

The tips of his fingers dug a little deeper into the sides of your neck and you moaned even louder, your cunt clutching at the demon’s cock like a vise while the rest of your body melted further into his hold. It was like you’d been waiting for him to come along and take control of you, of your very breathing, and it sent Andy reeling once again.

You were perfect. Perfect. So perfect that even that word didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you’d been made for Andy, and he’d been made for you. A perfect match. A true mate.

“Oh god, wh-who are you?” you asked, your breathy, pleasure-soaked voice pulling Andy back into the moment. 

The demon nearly chuckled at the question. It was a little late for you to be asking such a thing when his cock was buried to the hilt in your cunt and every thrust of his hips pushed you closer and closer to the edge of your release. But he didn’t want you to take offense, so he wracked his lust-drunk brain for an answer, finally settling on something close enough to the truth.

“I’m the demon of your dreams, sweet thing,” he rumbled in your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “The one you conjured with the desperate longing in your soul—the yearning to be fucked, to be taken, to be owned, thoroughly and fully.”

“I didn’t, I didn’t conjure anything—I swear,” you babbled, but Andy’s fingers tightened around the sides of your throat, cutting off your protests. The way he choked you only made your cunt gush and flutter between your thighs, and Andy reveled in the feeling of your slick channel gripping his hard cock.

“You don’t have to pretend with me, sweetheart, I know exactly what your soul yearns for, and I’m more than happy to oblige,” Andy purred, raking his teeth down your cheek before nipping at your jaw. 

He was holding onto your neck too tightly for you to make a sound, but he felt your throat work against his palm and your pussy spasm around his cock at his filthy words. He choked you a little harder and sank his teeth into your shoulder through your nightshirt, going crosseyed and nearly cumming when you clenched down hard around him.

“What your soul yearns for is a good hard fucking,” Andy rasped when he pulled his teeth away from your shoulder, moving back to murmur in your ear. “Now, take it like a good slut and I’ll let you thank me later.”

Andy picked up the pace of his hips, pounding harder into you. The demon fucked you into the mattress while he choked the breath from your lungs, giving you only enough air to remain conscious while he savaged your soft, warm cunt with his brutal cock.

It wasn’t long before he felt you reaching the edge of your release, and he dug his other hand beneath your body, pinning you to the bed with his hips while he fucked you ferociously and rubbed your clit. You were helpless when the demon demanded you give him your pleasure.

“Cum for me, my sweet thing, cum for your demon,” Andy urged.

You shattered apart on a silent scream, your mouth wide open and eyes rolling back into your head while your pleasure consumed you. Your body shook beneath Andy’s larger form, your tight pussy strangling his cock and dragging him over the edge right after you.

Andy buried his face in the curve of your neck, groaning his release loudly into your skin while his hips stuttered and finally pressed flush to your ass. He buried his cock in your pussy and spilled his cum into the depths of your womb, flooding your body with his seed while he fed on your soul. 

Out of habit, he was careful not to take too much, but he could sense that there was no such thing when it came to you. That realization made him groan all over again, another spurt of cum spilling into your cunt while he gorged himself on you until he was sated, your pussy still fluttering with the aftershocks of your release.

For a long moment, the two of you caught your breath together, Andy’s hand having loosened around your neck, though he still held you with your back pinned against his chest. He almost tightened his hold again when he felt your head moving, but you only turned your head to nuzzle your face into his beard and he rumbled a pleased sound in his chest, a smile curving his mouth. 

With a gentleness he’d never known himself to possess, Andy eased his softening cock from your pussy, enjoying the way your combined releases spilled across your thighs. 

He paused, scooping up his cum with his fingers and pushing it back into your hole, making you shudder and whine at the overstimulation. The demon shushed you softly, pressing kisses to your cheek and the edge of your jaw until he was done. 

Then, he rolled onto his back and tugged you with him, tucking you under his arm and propping his head up with the other hand. You still wore your nightshirt, and he was still clad in most of his clothes, his pants only opened enough for his cock, but he wanted to hold you a little bit longer before he forced himself to move from the bed.

You lifted your head and looked at the demon, the two of you hanging in a suspended silence while you regarded each other. 

For the first time since he’d slunk into your bedroom, Andy got a good look at your face, and his heart thumped heavily in his chest at the beauty of you. The slope of your nose, the curve of your mouth, and the intelligence in your eyes—it was all gorgeous to the demon.

As he stared at you, you looked at him in return, your eyes darting over his face while you took in his features—his crystal blue eyes and straight nose and the dark beard framing his soft mouth. Your expression was unreadable, but then a small smile curved the edges of your soft mouth, and your eyes warmed. You didn’t seem to hate what you saw, at least. 

“I’ll answer all your questions,” Andy promised, his gaze falling to your lips, the desire to kiss you gripping him and refusing to let go. “But first…” He trailed off, dragging you up his body while his hand cradled your head, moving you so he could slant his mouth to yours. 

The incubus kissed you gently at first, with just a brush of his lips, as if he was asking for your permission all over again. When you sighed happily and melted into him, your fingers curling in the short hair at the nape of his neck, he knew you were giving yourself to him willingly, gladly, wholly. 

Andy kissed you harder then, tracing his tongue along the seam of your lips and seeking entrance that you eagerly gave him. He slid into your mouth, groaning at your sweet taste, and explored you thoroughly while you clung to him and kissed him back.

When your hips began to rock greedily against Andy’s thigh, your slick pussy leaving a wet spot on his pants, he finally pulled away and gave you a wolfish grin.

“Does my sweet girl need her demon’s cock again?” he teased playfully before nipping at your lip and drinking down your moan while he soothed it with his tongue. 

“Yes, please,” you murmured sweetly, making Andy chuckle. 

But the demon wasn’t about to let your plea go unanswered. He rolled you onto your back and took the opportunity to kick his pants off his legs before sliding home with one thrust. The slick of your combined releases made it easy and you both groaned as he filled you up.

“Good,” he growled, clutching you tight beneath his body and encouraging your arms and legs to wrap around his broad, muscular form. “Because I need to be buried in your cunt for the rest of my fucking life.” His voice was a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine and made you clutch him tighter, meeting every thrust with your hips while he fucked you into the mattress.

It wasn’t until the sky began to lighten from a midnight blue to a softer shade of sapphire, the sun dawning on the morning of Valentine’s Day, that the two of you were finally sated enough for you to ask all the questions that had been rattling around in your head since you woke up to the demon in your bed.

Andy answered you with the truth—every bit of it—not even questioning that he didn’t have it in him to lie to you. He told you about what he was and how he’d been drawn to you from the moment he’d sensed you. 

You were skeptical at first, of course, but when he flashed you a look at his true eyes—dark pools of inky blackness like the pits of hell—and showed you a glimpse of his tail, he could tell that you started to believe him. It surprised him how much he wanted you to believe him, so it was a relief when you finally did.

Then, Andy told you about the stories of an incubus’s true mate. He hadn’t believed them until he’d met you, he explained, but a true mate was the one person in all the world that an incubus could feed on and never harm. They were literally made to be together.

Gently, as if worrying that it would be the part you couldn’t accept, he told you that he believed you were his—his true mate, the one person meant for him.

It took you a long moment to process that information, but once you did, you laughed wildly, happily, and pulled him in for a kiss. You were smiling too much to deepen it, so you settled for brushing butterfly kisses all over Andy’s face, making him smile, then grin, then laugh along with you. 

“Y’know, I would find out my soulmate is a demon on Valentine’s Day,” you said, giggling and falling back down against Andy’s chest. You curled into his side, pressing your face into his sternum and brushing another kiss over where his heart was beating in his chest.

Your comment reminded Andy of what day it was and he squeezed you in his arms. “Be my valentine?” he asked playfully, pressing a smile into the crown of your head. But he couldn’t wait for your answer, urging you, “Say yes, sweet girl, say yes.” 

“Yes, of course, my sweet demon,” you purred, throwing a leg over Andy’s body and sliding on top of him. 

Andy’s cock, which he’d thought for sure needed at least a few more hours of rest after the long night of fucking, valiantly stirred to life between your thighs. You reached between your bodies, slipping his half-hard length into your warm pussy and settling down on his chest, breathing a soft sigh of contentment. 

The two of you fell asleep like that, your soft, perfect body keeping Andy’s cock warm while you held each other close. As he drifted off, the demon felt a sense of peace and satisfaction that he’d never even dreamed he could achieve in his long, long life of walking the earth.

From that day on, Andy’s life was never the same. It was happier and more fulfilling and he never wanted for anything, not while you were in his life—and in his arms and in his bed. Together, you celebrated holidays and birthdays and life achievements as you grew together, but one day was still the most special.

For an incubus like Andy Barber, Valentine’s Day was his favorite day of the year. Not because of all the lonely, single women in the world, but because it was the day he’d found his true mate, the love of his life—it was the day he’d found you.

[scream4toji]

Hi I love your fics! Can I request make-up sex with Toji?

(thank you for the request 💕 sorry it takes a little while to get to the smut. Gotta build up the mood yeah?)

+ 18 only nsfw

The house always looks small and tight when you are trying to avoid him. After a heated argument, you give him the cold shoulder and squeeze past him in the kitchen while he makes a sandwich for himself. Your soft body slightly brushes up against his rigid frame. He purposefully didn’t budge to give you space to pass through between the island and the kitchen counters.

Your hand almost itched to smack his ass but you made a tight fist and walked towards the fridge, grabbing yourself a soda and making your journey back out of the kitchen.

He just quietly watched you struggle past him again, feeling a small tug on his lips which he fought off in case it pissed you off any further.

It had been 3 days now. Three days of sleeping on the couch. Luckily those 3 days were working days so they did pass by quickly. But today was the weekend. And only 11am. Time dragged.

And you felt it too. You woke up late hoping that staying in bed would kill some time but the queen size bed felt empty without him. Your mind just wondered and it was best to kick start your day by going out for a morning walk.

You got a lot done that morning because Toji wasn’t there groping you or humping you every hour on the clock. He had the tendency to let you know how much he wanted you. He restrained himself during the week just to give it to you ten times during the weekend.

Now you were missing his touch. His voice. His love.

You grabbed your iPad and sat on the couch to do some reading or mindless scrolling to keep yourself distracted. But it was hard when he was always there, in your face. You noticed him from the corner of your eyes as he entered the living room and sat down on the couch beside you, taking a huge bite of his sandwich and flipping on the TV. The soft cushions shifted as his large frame occupied the seat beside you. You try to ignore him and focus on your screen. He purposefully makes it hard for you to focus and continues to shuffle, irritating your last nerves.

“Would you quit with this fidgeting!”, you snap at him.

“Cant get comfortable with a hard-on”, he explained, spreading his legs out to give his crotch some space.

You roll your eyes and set your iPad aside. “Is that your way of apologizing?”

“Nah. I just answered your question. I didn't ask ya to suck me off. Unless ya wanna?”, he grinned and took another bite of his sandwich while closely observing you.

You narrow your eyes, letting him know you won't be the first to cave. Not until he apologized first. Oh, you can't even remember what the argument was about anymore. You just want someone to apologize so both of you can get back to your regular Saturday program, fucking like rabbits.

But he won't apologize. His ego was too bloated it gave you heartburn.

You can't be around him. You were this close to caving in, his clothed erection making it more difficult to stay committed to your resolve. Just when you were about to get up and leave, you felt a strong grip on your wrist. “Sorry”, you heard him mumble.

“What was that?”, you turn around and ask.

While still holding the sandwich in one hand, he undid the buttons to his tight pants and popped out his hard dick to give it some room to breathe. “Me and my dick give. Sorry”, he grinned while shamelessly stroking his cock in front of you.

His apology didn't seem genuine. But he could never hide the fact that he needed you.

You slowly straddle his lap, careful of his dancing cock and wrap your arms around his neck. You gave him one of the most starved kisses possible, almost ready to rip his lips off. His one hand rests on the small of your back and his other still carried the half eaten sandwich. He returned your kiss with just as much ferociousness, both of your angers slowly dissolving away with each passing minute.

You finally peel away from his saliva coated lips to catch your breath. His exposed cock was nicely snuggled between both your bellies and the rubbing friction excited it to the point of leaking some pre.

You stand up to pull down your leggings and your panties all at once. You spread your legs to reveal your soaked pussy lips. Toji takes another bite of his sandwich and slowly guides you on top of him.

“Ugh why are you so thick down there”, you let out a groan from discomfort as you try to sit on his cock. His veiny girth stretches your opening and you only got pass the tip.

“Shoulda let me fuck ya in the middle of the week. Hump day on hump day”, he joked, guiding you by the hips onto his length.

It doesn't take long for your body to relax and recognize his invading cock. You take nice deep breaths, your previous anger and anxiety had you tensed up. Toji massaged up and down your spine with one hand, trying to get you to relax around him.

“Not complain’ though. Tight as a virgin today”, he commented.

You just brush off his remarks and slowly start to move your hips up and down, feeling your body relaxing further with each thrust.

Toji took one final big bite of his sandwich and wrapped his hands around your waist to power back at you with raw strength. You arch your back as he hits all the right spots and has you cumming within a matter of minutes.

“Babe you outta let me fuck you during the week. Ya loosin’ the stamina”, he suggests while still hammering away into your fluttering cunt.

You are still convulsing on top of him and he pulls you into his chest, hugging you protectively and apologetically, his hips not stopping for a single moment. He had to make up for the lost time.

“‘m sorry...doll. Le’s not.....fight.…again”, he managed to scramble out of his mouth before painting your insides a nice shade of white.

You think that was all it took? It was a five hour apology. He apologized in the kitchen. In the shower. On the balcony. In the car as you went to grab some take-out lunch because you burnt the fish because he was fucking you mad. And finally the apology ended up on the bed. He had you on your back, fingers interlaced above your head and he went at a slower pace this time. His sensitive red cock was ready for a break. So was your sore sloppy cum drippin’ pussy.

“Oh, did i say ‘m sorry?”, he asked between his gentle casual hip thrusts and sweet tender kisses.

“Hmmm like five times”, you mentally counted how many times he came inside or on you.

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly (part one)

part two (soon)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!introverted!kook!reader

cw: swearing, very indirect subtle mention of sexual themes (no actual scenes), mention of drug usage (no actual scene)

synopsys: it's the last year of high school and y/n is paired up with rafe cameron for a 2 week project in art class. this wouldn't be a problem if y/n wasn't awkward as hell and well ... if there wasn't her big fat crush on him.

word count: 2.1k+

a/n: i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt like it now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any smut in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. and kelce's last name is statter bc apparently it was never mentioned in the show. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be little freaks) <3

*****

Fuck my life.

That was the only thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week art project. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him. You didn’t even know why he'd chosen this class. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA. Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe Cameron made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/N, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice. You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, like he was waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Okay, then let’s meet after the fifth period." Before you could ask where you should meet him, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach.

You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant—he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statton was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that was what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to know why he was the way he was.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him. But he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems at right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

----

The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe Cameron? Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out—only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious meeting place, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong, freshly showered—boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining why you were standing there if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t. Great.

When Rafe saw you, something flickered in his gaze that you didn’t want to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you—with Kelce and Topper right behind him.

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Hey," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "I didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

Blushing, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Right," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment. G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though. The faster we get this project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/N Y/L/N, right? Your mom owns Y/L/N Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just laughed.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t blush. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a pretty model."

Your cheeks warmed, and either he didn’t notice, or he chose not to comment on it.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You allowed yourself a small smirk.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a tired smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate? It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The cafeteria has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny? Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who… uh…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„No, no, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave. You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, warm, which somehow made it worse because it only made you more nervous.

„No, no, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „I guess I need to work out more if I’m giving off ‘fries guy’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming—in the best way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

[cognitiveoverload]

Rejection (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Being Hotch’s favorite is hard, but when he suddenly asks you out, you don’t really know if you’d like to make things harder for yourself.

tags: fem!tech analyst!reader

note: There will be more parts, not necessarily in chronological order. What do you think, what situations will they find themselves in? Send an ask with your idea, and let’s see what will happen.

At first, it was just a casual and genuinely innocent observation from Spencer. “Have you noticed that Hotch calls only you if he needs something?” he asked one day as he sat between you and Penelope in your little den.

But then this comment spread through the BAU like wildfire, making everyone think back of all the times their boss needed information, and look at that, they all remembered the same detail–it’s not just the fact he was always calling you, it was the fact he always called you by your first name.

And that’s how the constant teasing began. Derek, Emily, JJ and Penelope tormented you, with Spencer occasionally joining to spit out some facts about the both of you, while Rossi targeted Hotch as far as you knew. It was mortifying, really, but you got used to it.

What you still can't get used to is the change in your boss’ behavior. Recently he’s been different, although you can’t quite put a finger on what it is that changed. Sure, maybe he shows up a little more often in your office, strictly when Penelope isn’t around, and he brings you coffee when you’re working late or arrive a little too early as he does.

“How are you holding up?”

You turn your swivel chair around to look at Hotch, who’s standing in the door with an almost worried expression on his face. He sent Penelope home a few hours ago when a case affected her too much, and now apparently it was time for another wellness check in your little office. It’s hard to miss the way he’s flexing his fingers, a clear sign that he’s nervous, although you’re not a profiler, so you remain silent before you say something stupid.

Thinking about his question, you realize one thing. “It didn’t really affect me. Does this mean something’s wrong with me?” you ask him.

His lips part as he takes a shallow breath and thinks about what you just said. For a moment you think he’ll not give you an answer, but then he sits on the edge of your desk and watches you with a small smile. “It only means you’re tough. Look, you said, ‘It didn’t really affect me,’ which tells me it did affect you, just not as intensely as it did Garcia for example,” he explains kindly.

Nodding, you look down at your hands in your lap, but your gaze rises when he bumps his leg into your thigh. You expect him to say something, but Hotch remains silent, and he even acts like he didn’t do anything at all. There is one little thing that’s different, though. That barely visible smirk, the one you’ve all seen before.

Times like this it’s hard to comprehend the extremes in his behavior. He can act like this, so kind and supportive, but he can play rough too, especially when he loses control. And times like that, like a few days ago when he yelled at an agent who tried to take a case from him, you can’t help but think about how he could yell at you any time with you even thanking him.

Because, as pathetic as it might sound, an angry Hotch is simply irresistible. You probably have some issues that should be analyzed, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

“I often wonder how you all can do this every single day. Penelope told me to brace myself when I arrived, but… It’s hard sometimes,” you admit quietly. “Yet, there are cases that don’t really make me feel anything. I can’t really wrap my head around that.”

His brown eyes soften in sync with his expression, and then his lips curl into a smile. “You’re a good person, never forget that. Not feeling anything might be your brain’s way of protecting you. Either way, if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me,” he tells you as he stands up.

You nod, then return to your computer once he’s heading to the door. But then the sound of footsteps suddenly dies, and when you turn around to see if he has just disappeared into thin air, you find him watching you with a thoughtful look. Your brows furrow in confusion, but you don’t say anything, you just wait for him to spit out whatever’s on his mind.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asks casually.

It seems like an innocent, regular question between co-workers. The members of the BAU often team up in pairs or bigger groups to grab something, even Hotch joins them for a drink in a bar or dinner in some restaurant nearby. But he has never, ever gone out to eat with someone alone. Maybe with Rossi, but that doesn’t count.

So, it’s no wonder you have to think about the offer. You would be on thin ice, the team already has a little too much fun with the fact Hotch is playing favorites with you. If you have dinner with him alone, they might think you’ve been in some secret relationship all along.

In the end, the rational–or maybe rather paranoid–side of your brain makes the final decision. “Thanks, but I’d rather go home after I finish this,” you say, pointing at your computer.

He nods, and you begin to think he’s about to leave, but then he gulps and takes a deep breath, as if he’s gathering the strength or courage to say whatever’s on his mind. “I have paperwork that can’t wait, but I can give you a ride home after I’m done,” he offers, and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite identify.

“No need, I’ll be fine, but thanks anyway,” you tell him with a forced smile.

The last thing you need and want is Hotch taking you home. He means well, you know that, but you can’t risk being seen by someone who could easily start a rumor. The problem is, he’s almost as old as your dad, so people would talk about your nonexistent daddy issues, and he’s your boss, which would only make things worse.

So far the whole joke about being his favorite is something that stayed within the team, but if it gets out and reaches HR, you’re both done. You don’t want that, but not because of yourself. Hotch is ambitious, he’s insanely good at office politics, and if he wants to be promoted, he can’t be involved in such scandals.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sigh that leaves his lips. He looks almost disappointed, which is something you don’t really understand, because you can’t remember anything that could be even remotely rude. What is his problem? Or is there something he wants to talk about, something he wants to get off his chest?

Before you know it, he closes the door and walks back to you. “I’ve been making offers, and you turn down each and every one of them without hesitation. Why?” You can’t help but give him a confused look, because you have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about. Well, you know, but why does it bother him? “Is it because we would be alone?”

“It’s just… Wouldn’t it be weird?” you ask.

He inhales and exhales slowly before he suddenly crouches in front of you. “Look, there is a chance it will be weird, yes, but why don’t we give it a shot to see, huh? Come on, just you and me. If you’re afraid someone we both know will see us, we can go somewhere away from the usual crowd.”

You tilt your head to the side as you watch him, observing the look in his eyes, the small smile that makes your heart melt, and you simply can’t get yourself to say no to him. “Why?” you ask, although you know the answer, you just want to hear him say it.

“I’m sure I don’t have to spell it out for you,” he says with a boyish smile.

Gulping, you nod. A date. Aaron Hotchner wants to go on a date with you. But he’s your boss, if you started a relationship, there would be the danger of the aftermath of a breakup. Would you really like to risk it? You love this job, you love this team, you love Penelope, losing them wouldn’t be worth it.

You lick your lips as you push your chair back to build some distance. “I really have to get back to work now, and I’m sure Jack would be happy if you got home before bedtime,” you say, even though it hurts to turn down the invitation.

Hotch lets out a disappointed sigh as he stands up. “If you change your mind… you know. Good night.”

“Good night.”

[leighsartworks216]

Claw Machines

Sylus x gn!Reader & MC

Raven deserves the world and more and I need to heal their inner child so so bad and who better to help than MC?

Warnings: fluff, silly, growing friendship, arcades, healing their inner child, kissing, swearing, banter

Word Count: 1,678

Main Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Third Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus was 'busy', but you're dead certain that was just an excuse to nudge you into bonding with Miss Hunter. When she'd called to invite him out, you saw the smirk that curled his lips. You'd glared at him when he said you'd take his spot. You'd even been tempted to ditch her, but you couldn't in the end, knowing how much she means to him.

The claw moves around the box, following the movements of the little joystick. She looks as if she's facing down a Wanderer, not a stuffed koala with a teddy bear. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth, head swivels to the sides of the box to make sure she's lined up properly, fingers tapping impatiently on the machine before she hits the button. The claw descends. Closes. And as it rises, the koala is stuck in its grasp.

"Yes!" Miss Hunter laughs giddily as she bends down and grabs her prize from the chute. She squishes its face, eyes shining brilliantly with glee. Suddenly, she turns to you. "Have you ever played before?"

You shake your head, appearing quite bored with the whole thing.

"Do you want to try it? I can give you some pointers!"

A relentlessly stubborn part of you wants to refuse. Stand around like her own personal bodyguard while she travels from machine to machine with tokens purchased with Sylus's card and a bag full of toys.

But... you're also curious. You'd peered through shop windows and seen kids with toys your whole childhood, without any hope of having one to call your own. You'd made peace with that a long time ago, aided in the fact you now have plenty of money to live comfortably, though you keep that money close to your chest. Now Miss Hunter's barging through that peace, eyes shining and full of childish energy. And you give in.

You step up hesitantly to the controls. She squeals in glee and stands right beside you, nearly leaning on your arm. "Okay, this is the joystick! You use it to move the claw around. And then when you're lined up with something, you push this button and it'll try grabbing it."

You quirk an eyebrow at her. She smiles deviously. "It's a lot harder than it looks, trust me."

You should have listened to her. She makes it look so easy; you have to wonder if she's somehow using her Evol to cheat. No matter what target you went for, it always slipped through. Sometimes in the most ridiculous ways - bouncing off the edge of the plastic surrounding the chute or flipping off into an unreachable corner. You're not usually one to give up on a challenge, but this is getting ridiculous.

Miss Hunter smiles apologetically at you after your target falls over, just out of reach of the claw. "Maybe this machine isn't calibrated well," she suggests, but it's a half-baked excuse. "Let's try another one."

So you do.

And another.

... And another.

It's agony. She'll take over, pleading with big round eyes and a pout that works like a charm on Sylus to play a round, and get a plushie on her first try. Her bag is almost overflowing. She considers asking for a second one, but she looks sorry when she says so out loud.

Another machine catches her eye and she dashes over like a child. You watch her go.

It's... confusing, contradictory, to see someone like her be so carefree and childish. Her life has not been a cakewalk, and she's been through things normal people would never recover from. Yet here she is, squealing and giggling with delight, while you stand amid the flashing lights and chiming bells, arms crossed and frowning.

You hate to think you could ever possibly be jealous of her. Jealousy was unnecessary when you had all the means to get what you wanted so easily. Still, it's difficult not to envy in some ways the ease with which she enjoys such simple things.

You sigh. You damn Sylus for having you take his place on this little playdate with Miss Hunter. Damn the machines and their stupid claws. Damn all the plushies that seem to hate you.

The arcade is relatively small. When you begin walking around the various machines, it's easy to keep an eye on her. After all, if something happened to her here, it would be your fault. And you don't exactly want a repeat of last time.

It's by pure chance you happen to glance over. Pure random chance that your eyes slipped onto a series of miniature claw machines, stacked 3-on-3 in an alley between the bigger machines. You would not have stopped if you hadn't then done a double-take to make sure you saw what you thought you saw. And sure enough, as you step up to the small machines, you see in one a tiny keychain in the shape of a crow.

It's adorable. Big eyes that take up half its body stare longingly out at the arcade, half-closed with an air of disinterest. A little white ruff wraps all around its body. Two little feet with three toes each stick out the bottom.

You glance around to find Miss Hunter. She's moved on to the Balance machines, where her skilled fingers shift the two-pronged claw to nudge the box off the poles. An employee already stands there, waiting to re-setup the machine, as they chat with familiarity. She seems safe enough...

After a moment of watching to make sure the employee doesn't try anything, you reach into your pocket and pull out the tokens she gave you earlier. You insert one, and a small LED display counts down a timer.

The joystick is tiny in your hand - you can only imagine how it would fit in Sylus's. You shift it over top the crow. After spending however long failing on the other machines, you don't have much hope, especially when these are designed to give the impression of being easier so people will want to try them even more. You push the tiny button, and the claw lowers. The crow is picked up, shifting slightly in its loose hold. It's carried to the chute...

A tiny jingle plays, similar to the one that follows Miss Hunter around every machine.

You... you did it?

You hesitate before opening the little hatch, as though you just imagined all of that and you're going to be woefully out of luck when you reach in to find it empty. But no. You reach in and your fingers touch soft fur. You pull it out. There he is - your very own tiny crow plush.

The crow's big eyes seem to stare up at you, unimpressed. But your mind says he's happy, free from his cramped little prison.

Footsteps approach and you're immediately back on alert. You'd been smiling without even realizing it, but that is wiped away for neutrality. Miss Hunter doesn't seem to notice, gushing over the prize in your hand.

"Awe, you won that! It's so cute!" She pokes its cheek with her finger, giggling. "I've never been able to win anything from these machines. How many tries did it take you?"

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling you'd only felt when Sylus praised you - pride. You really managed to do something she couldn't? It sounded impossible after seeing her win over and over again without fail.

You hold up a finger. She gapes at you.

"What? It only took you one try?!" She looks at the machines, and all the cute mini plushies within. She frowns, considering something, before pulling out a handful of tokens. "Maybe they made these easier, somehow? Let me try."

-

"Have fun?"

You dangle the toy in front of Mephisto. He stands in your lap, playfully pecking and nipping at it. He's careful not to damage or tear it - he's always such a good bird.

Sylus wraps his arms around you from behind the couch. His chin rests on your shoulder, large hands massaging your sides. He kisses your cheek. "You're smiling."

Your first instinct is to turn away, but he stops you. Fingers grab your chin and turn you to face him instead. Crimson eyes, smug and teasing, meet yours.

You sigh. You have to admit that it was fun, even if you'd love to be stubborn and say it wasn't. Maybe if you hadn't won anything, you wouldn't have to pretend you hated it. Unfortunately, the toy that dangles from your finger is evidence to the contrary.

"She's a menace on those machines," you say, voice low, like it's a secret.

He chuckles. "How many did she get?"

"I lost count."

You glance back at Mephisto and shift the toy to rest in your palm. He grabs it in his beak, cawing around the object in his mouth, and flits off to go put it with his little hoard. Or, well, you thought he would. Instead, he flaps off to his perch and, using his foot and beak together, manages to hang it by its chain on the end of it. They look like a matching set as he fluffs up and settles down to rest

Sylus kisses the corner of your smiling mouth. You feel exposed. How is it possible for something so small to catch your emotions off guard?

"I'm glad you had fun," he whispers sincerely. "If you'd like, we can go together sometime."

"We wouldn't win anything," you tease. You rub your nose against his, drawing out a soft look of love from his eyes.

He shrugs. "Then we'll steal one."

"How criminal. This may be your most dastardly scheme yet."

"Mhm. And I'll need my best man on the job to help me pull it off." He closes the small gap to kiss you. His thumb rubs over the ball of your chin. Another kiss and his hand shifts to your jaw. Another, then to your neck. He draws you in, over and over, languidly savoring you, like you have all the time in the world.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

[windser]

tw: caleb x reader x zayne, possessive caleb (isn't this just caleb?), exhibitionism-kinda a/n: sequel to this. giving zayne the opportunity to melt some of that ice.

zayne is disciplined.

always has been.

it’s what sets him apart, what’s always made him different.

he never needed much—not the forced friendships, not the social distractions, not the late-night calls or whispered confessions.

he’s always known his path. it’s clear, it’s clean, and there’s no room for error.

but lately, there’s been a hesitation. a hesitation that lingers in his fingers when he turns the page of his textbook. a hesitation in his breath when he almost steals a glance. a hesitation in his pulse—steady, rhythmic, only to spike in the moments he shouldn’t be paying attention.

this has been going on for weeks now.

at first, it was easy.

caleb was reckless, predictable in the way he tested boundaries, but zayne knew how to maintain the distance. he was just an extra body in the room, his presence a silent blessing that allowed josephine to sleep easier at night, to trust that things were as they should be.

and for a while, they were.

until the first time he looked. really looked.

it was an accident—at least, he told himself it was. a stray movement caught his eye, some peripheral flicker of motion, and before he could stop himself, his gaze followed.

and for a moment—just a breath of a moment—he saw everything.

he saw the way caleb moved, slow and purposeful. the way your breath caught and released in soft, broken exhales. the way your fingers curled into the fabric beneath you, holding on as if you were meant to be held.

caleb had you on the floor this time, both the position and his intensity sure to rub your knees raw. but you never complained, not like this. for all your spite and fire, when caleb had you like this, you were compliant and frankly—his gaze dipped just low enough, catching the way the peak of your breasts rubbed against the flooring—

zayne turned away so fast his vision blurred.

he forced himself back to his work, pen pressed hard enough against the page that the ink bled through.

he thought that would be it.

then it happened again.

this time, he lingered. just a second longer. long enough for his throat to go dry, for the heat to coil low and unbidden, for the sharp realization to sink in that caleb knew he was watching. that you knew.

but neither of you said a word.

and that silence? it ruined him.

it made it worse.

now, he swears he can feel it—them—even when he’s not looking. he can hear the quiet murmurs, the way the air shifts, the barely-there sounds of movement that he’s trained himself to ignore.

but it’s getting harder.

the tension is creeping in, slow and insidious. he catches himself reading the same line in his textbook over and over, unable to absorb a single word. he starts staying later than he needs to. he finds himself hesitating in doorways, taking a moment too long to pack his bag, fingers deliberate as he gathers his things.

he doesn’t know what he’s waiting for.

until one evening, when he arrives ready to slide into the same seat and soak in his own frustrations, caleb—calm, composed, knowing—finally speaks.

"why don’t you come over here?"

zayne’s fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.

caleb tilts his head slightly, watching him like a predator waiting for prey to realize. "no rush to the books, right?"

you don’t say anything, but the look in your eyes is unreadable. open. expectant.

and something cracks in zayne.

a slow, dawning realization that he’s been standing at the edge of something for weeks now—hovering at the precipice, toes curled over the ledge, waiting for an excuse.

caleb just gave him one.

he swallows, pulse threading high, but he doesn’t turn away.

for once, he lets himself want.

"yes," he hears himself say, voice steady but not quite. "i think i will."

zayne takes the first step.

that should be the most glaring sign that something is different. that something in him has shifted, tilted, realigned itself into a shape he no longer recognizes.

he’s not sure what he expected—maybe for caleb to laugh, to pull back, to say just kidding, you can get to work now. maybe for you to hesitate, for you to stiffen in the way people do when something unfamiliar enters sacred ground.

but neither of those things happen.

instead, caleb moves.

not toward zayne, but toward you.

and that’s when he understands.

caleb has no interest in handing anything over. he’s not stepping aside. he’s allowing.

this isn’t zayne’s to claim. this is something to be granted.

he watches caleb, his hands easy, familiar, claiming the territory zayne has never dared to touch. the weight of his presence alone is enough to make the atmosphere shift, a low thrum of tension that curls through the room like a slow-burning fuse.

zayne stays where he is, still standing, still waiting, his fingers curled loose around the strap of his bag. there’s an unspoken invitation in the way caleb’s eyes flick up to meet his. a silent dare.

but not permission.

not yet.

“come closer,” there it is. caleb finally says.

zayne takes a slow breath, his mind curiously blank as he sets his bag down and steps forward.

closer.

close enough to hear the way your breath stutters as caleb’s hands move, mapping out familiar places, as if reminding both of you—this is mine, this is mine, this is mine.

zayne swallows hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. he’s never been shy, never been unsure of himself, but this is different. this isn’t medicine, isn’t a test with the right or wrong answer.

this is trust.

and caleb doesn’t give that easily.

caleb’s hand slides up your thigh, slow and deliberate, before his gaze flicks to zayne, sharp and assessing. he nods once, a silent go on then.

zayne hesitates.

he’s always been a fast learner, but this is new territory.

so he starts small.

a touch, barely there, the backs of his fingers grazing along the curve of your knee. he half expects caleb to stop him immediately, but there’s no interruption.

encouraged, he moves higher to your waist.

caleb shifts then, pressing in, and for a split second, zayne wonders if he’s gone too far—if he’s crossed the invisible line that neither of them has laid out yet.

but instead of pulling him back, caleb’s mouth curves into something unreadable.

"hey now."

zayne stills.

caleb’s grip tightens just slightly, a possessive anchor.

“don't be so timid. you can use your mouth too,” he murmurs, voice low but firm, directive. “but only below the neck.”

and that—that—makes something tighten in zayne’s chest.

because this isn’t freedom.

this is control, measured out in careful allowances, in boundaries that exist not to exclude him, but to remind him exactly where he stands.

he lets out a slow breath, tilting his head just slightly, waiting—waiting—because now he understands that this, too, is a test.

he leans in.

lets himself learn.

a kiss to your shoulder, featherlight. a press of lips against your collarbone, reverent, exploratory.

and caleb allows it.

but never looks away.

zayne isn’t sure when his heartbeat started pounding in his ears. maybe it was when your fingers found his wrist, guiding his hand against the warmth of your skin. smaller hands cupping the curve of his knuckles until his palms reach your chest and you just press so. maybe it was when you let out that first, soft sound—a reaction to him, to something he did.

or maybe it was when caleb made his presence known again.

zayne had almost forgotten he was being watched. almost.

but caleb never really disappears, does he?

even now, his touch is there—ghosting along the back of zayne’s neck, the weight of his hand steady, instructive. not controlling exactly, but not absent either.

instructive.

because zayne is still learning.

and you—you—are encouraging him to misbehave.

it starts small, subtle. the way your breath hitches when his mouth skims a little lower. the way your fingers clutch at his sleeve, anchoring him instead of letting him hesitate.

then your hand slides over his, pressing his palm down, urging him on towards the apex of your thighs.

zayne barely has time to process the way heat pools low in his stomach before caleb’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp and knowing.

“ah-ah.”

zayne freezes.

caleb doesn’t pull him away. not yet. but his grip tightens, just enough to be felt, his voice dropping into something smoother, quieter.

“you’re getting ahead of yourself, sweetheart.

there’s no irritation in his tone, no warning, just the firm, unwavering presence of someone who knows better. zayne hears it often when caleb speaks to you. it's often a consequence of a sharp cry from your lips. a sound so choked, so full as if you'd try to take on something more than your body would allow.

and zayne—still breathless, still so close to losing himself in this—listens.

he swallows hard, his breath shaking as he lifts his head, barely realizing how eager he’d been to follow your lead. how quickly he’d let himself forget who was really in control.

caleb shifts, adjusting his hold on you like a reminder.

“you don’t set the pace,” he murmurs, and though it isn’t directed at you, you shiver at the way he says it.

zayne’s stomach tightens.

but then, caleb exhales.

lets go of the back of his neck.

lets him try again.

so zayne does.

this time, he’s careful. not hesitant, not like before, but mindful. measured.

not moving unless caleb lets him. he's uninterrupted as his fingertips skirt your waistband, unhindered as they slip between to meet the frilly edge of your panties.

he watches for your reactions—how your breath shudders, how your fingers twitch against his wrist. how you still encourage him, still want him, but never try to take control again.

and for the first time, zayne realizes this isn’t just about learning.

this is about trust.

and caleb—possessive, patient, in control—is finally letting him earn it.

and he's oh sosososo careful now, every movement measured, every touch intentional—his fingers ghosting along your mound as your pretty thighs part further for him. he feels the way you respond beneath him, the subtle arch of your spine, the quiet invitation in the way you press into him.

you’re encouraging, but not leading this time.

zayne’s learning.

his lips trail lower, testing the boundaries caleb has set, but never crossing them. he follows the curve of your shoulder, the heat of your skin, the slow, deliberate pace that he knows he should maintain.

but there’s still a hesitance—still an uncertainty in the way his fingers press in, applying just enough friction to smear the wetness you give him, the mess he made.

and then caleb is there.

not stopping him, not pulling him away, but correcting.

a hand at the back of zayne’s neck again, firm but not forceful, fingers pressing just enough to make his pulse stutter.

"faster," caleb murmurs, his voice low, steady. "you can feel that she likes it. she can come like this, don't let her be stubborn."

zayne exhales shakily, twisting his wrist, letting himself listen—to you, to the way your breathing shifts, to the way you melt beneath him in places and tense in others.

he wants.

he’s never wanted like this before.

but more than that—he wants to do it right.

so he lingers, taking his time, making sure his touch is firm and intentional as his thumb strokes your throbbing clit. he’s still waiting, still seeking permission with every motion, and caleb—possessive, patient, watching—lets him have it.

for now.

not just physically, but intimately—close enough to feel the warmth of your breath ghosting across his skin, close enough that every shift of your body sends a slow, sinking weight through his chest. close enough that the heat between you and caleb curls around him, wrapping tight, pulling him deeper into something he doesn’t yet understand.

there’s an electricity in the air, a hum that zayne swears he can feel between his fingers when they brush over your skin. he barely has time to process the way your breath shudders at his touch before caleb’s voice cuts through the haze, low, measured.

"flick your thumb."

zayne obeys.

not because he’s afraid, but because something about caleb’s control, his quiet authority, makes it impossible not to.

so he lets his fingers follow the notes of caleb's commands, reverent strokes. he listens—to the way your body responds, the way your breath stutters, the way your fingers tighten around his forearm like you’re grounding yourself in him.

that alone sends a sharp, new kind of thrill through his chest.

he lets himself move with you, lets himself feel the weight of every breath, the way anticipation coils in your muscles. and you let him. you guide him without leading, letting him explore, letting him earn each reaction, each quiet sound, each shift in the way you press closer.

he wants to touch more. he wants to taste more.

but then your fingers slip over his, fingers intertwining as you raises his touch just high enough to curl against the elastic of your panties, urging him under—just a fraction, just enough to test.

you’ve always been the little trouble maker. wrapped so sinful and sweet in sugar ‘n spice.

then hand at his neck squeezes.

the moment is razor-thin, the tension between them stretched so tight that zayne can feel caleb’s control like a weight against his form.

"ah, ah. i didn’t say you could touch there."

zayne stops.

his body feels like a live wire, his pulse a frantic staccato against his ribs, his skin burning where caleb's fingers press into him.

there’s no irritation in caleb’s voice, no sharpness—just possession, thick and undeniable.

"you wait for me," caleb murmurs, almost amused, almost indulgent. "you don’t just take it."

zayne swallows hard. his breathing is unsteady. his body is tight with restraint, every nerve strung out from the weight of this.

so zayne exhales, shaking his hand away from yours and returning his touch to the cloth barrier. the wet spot is bigger this time, easier to finger as zayne grinds the heel of his palm into it. pressing and rubbing insistently until you squirm and quiver against him.

and when you respond in a way that makes it clear this is right, this is wanted—zayne understands exactly what he’s been missing.

caleb is forever a steady presence, lingering just enough to keep zayne tethered, to remind him not too fast, not too hard, not too much.

and Zayne listens, because there’s no other choice.

he measures every touch, every press of his lips, every movement—watching for your reactions, for the way your body shudders beneath him, for the moment when you finally break.

and then you do.

a soft, wrecked sound slips past your lips, and zayne feels it like a shock through his body. the sharp, unmistakable realization that he brought you to this—that he did this.

his breath stutters. his hands tighten on your waist, grounding himself, trying to push past the tightness coiling in his chest, the heat flooding through him.

it’s too much.

he’s never felt this way before, never been so wrapped up in someone else’s pleasure, in the way it makes his own body react, the way his pulse pounds beneath his skin.

and then—your hands are on him.

just a light touch, a brush of fingers over his belt—offering.

zayne jerks back like he’s been burned.

his breath hitches. his mind blanks.

his body is still thrumming with leftover tension, still tight with heat and want, but the sudden shift—the attention turned to him instead of you—sends a shock of panic through his system.

it’s too fast. too new.

he stumbles back, nearly tripping over himself as he gathers his things, movements frantic, hands shaking.

"i—" his voice is strained, breathless. "i should go."

caleb watches him, gaze unreadable, but doesn’t move to stop him.

you, on the other hand—your expression shatters.

"did i—?" your voice is small, hesitant, the weight of uncertainty creeping into your tone. "did i do something wrong?"

zayne should say something, should reassure you, should tell you that it’s not you, that it’s him—but his throat is too tight, his thoughts too scrambled.

so he doesn’t.

he just shakes his head in a poor excuse for reassurance, mutters a barely-there apology, and bolts.

the door clicks shut behind him, leaving behind only the ghost of his presence—his lingering heat in the air, the tension he couldn’t quite process, the heavy silence in his absence.

your breath stutters, heart hammering against your ribs as the weight of it sinks in.

he left.

and without thinking, you move to follow.

you barely make it to your knees before caleb is there, an arm looping around your waist, pulling you back—firm, unyielding.

"shhh."

his voice is a quiet command, but his hold is stronger than usual, not just guiding, but keeping you still.

you squirm against him, instinctual, the need to fix it clawing at you, but caleb doesn’t let you go. instead, his hand finds your hair, long fingers stroking slowly, deliberately, a steady rhythm meant to calm, to soothe.

"shhh, sweetheart," he murmurs again, voice dipping lower, rich and steady as it settles in your chest, pulling at something deep inside you. "he just needs some time. let him go."

your breath catches, muscles still tense, but caleb doesn’t let up—not until you stop struggling, until the tension in your limbs slowly melts under the slow, hypnotic drag of his fingers through your hair.

"there you go," he breathes, his mouth just at the shell of your ear. "that’s better."

only when he’s sure you’re still does he loosen his hold, his hands settling against you in something softer, no longer restraint but reassurance.

"you didn’t do anything wrong," caleb finally says, voice firm, certain. "zayne’s just… figuring it out."

you exhale shakily, still frowning, still feeling that knot of uncertainty tighten in your stomach. "i shouldn’t have—"

"you overthink," caleb interrupts, cutting you off before you can spiral further. his tone shifts, something teasing in the way his fingers drift to your cheek, warm and grounding as his thumb traces the heat still lingering there. "you used to be just like that. all anxious, all in your head."

his smile turns sharp as he tilts his head, mock-thoughtful. "and now look at you."

the way he says it—now look at you—sends something warm through you, makes your breath catch, because you remember.

you remember the struggle of those early days, of feeling lost in sensation, of thinking too much, hesitating too much, never just feeling.

you remember the way caleb had guided you—patient, unyielding, possessive in his teaching until you learned how to let go.

and now—now you are more receptive, more open, more in tune with the way caleb wants you to be.

the realization flutters in your chest, slow and lingering, as caleb watches it dawn across your face. his smile firms, something smug and knowing, his fingers squeezing lightly against your jaw.

but then—a flicker of something else.

his expression doesn’t change, but his eyes shift—just barely, just for a second—as he casts a glance toward the door.

the one zayne ran through.

the sharp edge of amusement fades into something more thoughtful, more pensive.

because caleb knows.

knows that zayne isn’t gone for good.

knows that running only lasts so long before something pulls you back.

until you draw him back in.

and when zayne comes back?

caleb will be waiting.

[pawinpersu]

when i met you in that hotel room ₊ 𓂃 venti / barbatos

♡: afab!reader. reader works at angel share (lets pretend its a hotel lol) maid!reader. needy!venti. consent kink. cunnilingus. pnv. mating press. slight breeding kink. pretty much fluff !! slight self loathing from venti... (he ain't been getting action and he feels old.) mostly dom! venti (im so sorry i didnt make him very switchy) has been proofread hopefully its not ooc ..(。·ˇ‸ˇ·。)…

staying in a room at the angel share, after buying a whole bottle of dandelion wine, venti sighs to himself in contentment. observing his land outside the window, admiring in his thoughts how that maid looked delivering his drinks to his booth about thirty minutes ago. the maid outfit looked so sinfully beautiful on you. it had been... ages since his last rendezvous esque relationship. desperate, he called himself. not that he looked old but after being thousands of years on teyvats warm shores you grow slightly unaware of things, mostly due to cutting himself off from such relationships. not that he doesnt desperately want one.

calling up service to his room, knowing it will be you. his body aches, this form becoming slightly uncomfortable. he sees your silhouette as you open the door, smiling sweetly he bids you to come in. "is there something you need, sir?" you ask kindly, an underlying gruffness to your voice. sweet thing. so precious. so overworked. must you trouble yourself with such things in a place where freedom reigns? he asks you in his head, not voicing his thoughts. "hic! i would.. hic! like some.. room service, dear maiden- hic! unngh" hiccups, he curses. maybe he has drunk too much.

he leans up on the bed with his elbows, patting with his hand beside him, looking up at you with his pretty emerald, with light greens and azures mixed in them eyes. you question, before sitting down beside him, the slightly short outfit riding up your thighs. as observant as venti is he is quite aloof to certain things, but never this. he thanks himself, reminding himself of his status, he shudders. this girl, was a mere mortal. how could.. how could he possibly be so unwavering towards her, so needy. wishing her hands were undoing his corset. his belt. his shorts. anything right now would save him from thinking so much!

his voice slightly heightens, his eyes trail down your body before looking up into your eyes again. "have.. hic!" he cuts himself off cursing the hiccups once more. he reaches out his hand, holding it towards her. as you take it, he pulls you down a bit onto the bed. "hic! you.. hic!... sweet maiden grown a match of poppies and cecelia's, my dear? you are so incredibly sweet." his words like honey, yet with a bit annoyed tone. he needs something to get rid of these hiccups! his charm!

his eyes lake over your pretty face, admiring your features. swallowing softly, hopefully that will take them away, pushing a strand of your hair out of your face. "does this feel right, my sweet flower? have i stepped to far, please, indulge my questions with your answers, whatever you need or want, i shall give it" no matter how badly he wants you. deciding now if you say get off me or, no, then he wouldnt be upset, how dare he even if he was, having just the one moment will suffice lifetimes. your softness, your face close to his, his hands able to caress yours, and your pretty face. he wants to whine. the sensations feel as if they did the first time.

you give him a shy nod, your mind and heart race. you need to go back, to clean, to do your job. but.. the way he looks at you. the way he talks to you, the way he touches you. like you're a piece of crystal, a jewel. you watch him softly, your breath hitching as he grows closer. his hand trailing down your thigh. his eyes glazed with lust and something slightly calm, and content. his fingers start making patterns on the flesh of it. "may i kiss you, sweet flower? please hear my heart for what it needs is something so delicately beautiful as you"

another nod, his words fill you with ache. no man has ever given such bold advances to you, as he kisses you his lips move against yours, making you feel light headed. his want his need is excruciating. how many years has it been since such a feeling has made him lightheaded. his hands trail up to the swells of your hips gripping them with his fairly soft hands. you're soft, delicate, and utterly gorgeous. almost sinfully he adds in his head. how long has barbatos been without shame in this very moment. not caring if others heard you outside the hotel room. or him.

whenever you get the courage to move your own lips against his, he whines. he's vocal and he's not afraid to show it, gripping your hips harder he slightly moves more on top of you, not breaking the kiss. his lips more feverish. his face hot not just from the alcohol but the slight recoil of embarrassment. afraid if he might continue he might just make a fool of himself. he whines before pulling away from the kiss seeing your eyes flutter open at him cutely, makes him longing for more. "you taste divine dear. i simply cannot get enough of you." his voice gruff, his eyes feel hazy. glazed over with something more than desire. "may i continue, beautiful girl? ill love you with care my sweet flower" he says, promisingly.

"i.. yes.. yes please" your own body is hot, the maid outfit suddenly uncomfortable. dear barbatos forgive me, you say in your head. hearing him chuckle. "ah. sweetheart, dont trouble yourself with asking for forgiveness. not when this is so right" he kisses down your neck, prying your thighs open softly, his hips grinding now against yours. "ah.. dearest me, even such small stimulation you feel amazing." saying through the kisses. he bunches your skirt up, his fingers playing with the hem of your panties, before digging his nails into your hips. grinding harder.

"hnngh.. how could i possibly let go of this.. feeling.. nngh!" he whines, biting at your neck. sucking harshly. hearing your small gasps, he kisses back up to you jaw. "y.. you're so sweet, my flower. unngh.. ahnn.." his hips buckle, his face grows hotter. wanting, needing more. "such a pretty face, a gorgeous body.. nngh.. ah- just like that" he whispers, moving a bit faster. able to feel his length through the soft and sensual grinds. he takes a deep breath before looking down at you. "im going to remove this pretty outfit, maiden, is that okay? may i?" he asks eagerly, his hips halter.

"yes.. please. please. no one has ever made me feel this way" you gasp out, you panties already slick with desire. whining a bit at the lost of the friction, you push yourself more up against him. he chuckles a bit, getting a ego boost. admiring how thirsty you are just as he is. he slowly pushes the maid outfit down your gorgeous body. seeing your lacey garments, connecting with your thigh highs. he bites his bottom lip before grazing his hand down your hips, to your ass. squeezing the flesh.

"how sinfully beautiful those look on your gorgeous skin. so soft, so pretty." he kisses your tummy. his hand squeezing at the flesh of your hips again. his head moving down to your thighs, pushing your navel to make you lay down all the way, you push up on your elbows to watch him. kissing your inner thighs, eyeing your pussy, such a delicate things. kissing your clothed cunt softly, before looking up at you seeing you gasp, he smirks, a slight chuckle vibrating against your clothed mound. he pulls down your lacey garment, down your thighs the thigh highs still on. after finally getting them off he looks up at you once more.

"mmm, such a pretty, pretty flower you have my dear maiden. may i?" always asking for consent, always considering you first. you nod impatiently. he nods, his breath warm against your pussy, before licking softly, prodding your folds open. his eyes rolling back, ah how he's missed giving pleasure to a woman. he presses your hips more to his mouth, licking the labia softly. using spit to coat more of your glistening sex as he sucks on your delicate cunt, using his jaw to give more friction. slurping your essence, you're so new to this. new to how such things work, but fuck. the way he looks up at you while he does it.

after awhile his ministration's don't stop, he needs to make you come first. he whines against your pussy, slurping lewdly against it. sucking your pretty clit, your hips buckle. gasping. "oh.. fuck! there.. there.. ah!" you cry out, feeling his lips suckle faster making you see white. your hands instinctively gripping his hair pushing him, as your back arches and hips buck, your slick coating his lips and tongue. you gasp for air, as the feelings subdue. a whine to your breathing, your elbows aching as you fall back all the way, your legs shaking.

"mmm.. absolutely luscious." he licks his lips. pushing up on his hands crawling back on top of you. kissing your lips, tasting yourself as he moves his tongue into your mouth. the sensual kiss making more blood go to his aching cock. roughly pushing his shorts down, making his dick slap against his tummy, removing his corset and top, cursing at himself. why does he wear so many layers, fuck. he lifts your legs, pushing them to your chest, holding them with one hand, stroking his cock softly. "anngh.. you look angelic. my little flower, is this what you want? please. i need to fill your pretty pussy up, so... bad. nn.." his hips falter, getting even more aroused by his own words.

as you consent, you cover your face. feeling his other hand move down to spread your sensitive cunt apart, rubbing the tip softly against it, he whines. not able to take it anymore, he softly pushes against warm and tight channel. his eyes roll back, his other hand still holding your legs up, before his other grabs your hand, holding it softly. "oh.. fuck!" he breathes out, his hips going in slow thrusts, but needing to go faster, needs to breed this small pussy. gods, how badly has he needed this, fuck. he looks at you, pulling away from holding your hand grabbing the other on your face. "shhh... sweet cecelia, dont hide your pretty face."

he starts going faster, his face contorts, his braids move rapidly, as well seeing your breasts move with each thrust, makes his insatiable need grow. he whimpers, gripping the flesh under your thighs again, being slightly sloppy. "hnngh.. fuck.. you're so.. so gorgeous my windblume, im.. mmm.. feel s'fucking good.. so good" his insistent compliments and feverish thrusts of his cock, makes you feel crazy. his words, his body, his touch, everything about this man was.. so.. good. so so good. no one has ever made you feel this way. you whine, looking up at him, your mouth parted as you breath in gulps of air, breathy moans making him ache. needing to see you come on his cock, needing to see your face as he fills you up. needing it, craving it.

".. ah! please please.. s-shit!.. ah.. oh fuck.. gonna.. gonna breed you.. gonna.. fuck! make this pretty flower all.. all mine..!" he grumbles, positioning his hips harder, before whining feeling your pussy gush and tighten around him making his thrusts sloppy, he falls on top of you. still gripping the muscles under your pretty thighs. he hears you gasp, feeling your nails into his shoulders suddenly as your cunt flutters around him, your slick gushing down at each press of his cock. "ah! ohh.. please, please please!" you whine, before it turning into cute mewls.

fucking hell, he liked that. oh he needed that, he pushes your knees up more, going deeper, feeling your velvet walls clench as the lasting moments of your orgasm hit you, he whimpers his hips faltering once more before picking up the pace again. "holy.. hnnghh... my pretty cecelia.. im.. nngh.. im.. gonna.." he pushes his face in the crook of your neck as his hips grow sloppy, his cock throbbing as fills your pretty pussy, feeling it bulge your cute tummy. he whines, panting against you.

"f.. fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. mmph! filling you up, so." thrust "good, nngh.." his climax subsiding, still tenderly thrusting inside you, as he catches his breath he looks up at you through his lashes. "my sweet, gorgeous flower." he says softly, giving you small kisses now. before catching his strength to slightly lift up, brushing your glistening hair from your face. having a content smile on his face, he cups your chin seeing your fucked out gaze, assuming he has the same look. "don't you look exquisite, so, so pretty. sucha good girl. my pretty windblume" he giggles, squishing your face. bending down once more kissing you, a soothing lullaby to your exhaustion.

♡an: omg this is the longest small fic ive ever done, i locked in. LOLL.. hope u all like it :3 for @astronomerzin