#but that last bit is learned behaviour
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It’s just when I see a butterfly and/or moth I don’t trust a butterfly and/or moth
And I don’t know if it’s just the visual effects but it seems to literally come out of nowhere:
#i've connected the dots#you haven't connected shit#I've connected them!#nancy drew#wild speculation#and by wild I mean completely baseless#and I don't trust any detail on this show#but that last bit is learned behaviour#nancy#moths#4x04#temperance#nancy drew cw#cw nancy drew#ndcw
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lets say i bought a connecticut ticket to eric....
and wanted to take the greyhound
do u think it would end by 10:30 for me to get back to the last greyhound of the night????
or i could take metro north back but it's more expensive than a greyhound
#personal#also like i know new haven a bit bc i used to go there every few weeks for baby swap#cuz mom and i in nyc and my dad in boston/cambridge#the lack of public transport in ct is literally SOOO not non-driver friendly they're murdering me#i've tried sooo hard to learn how to drive too :<<#it's like the last dyspraxia thing i can not do at all#cuz i can doggy paddle a bit and scooter (not bike) BUT i sobbed behind the wheel too many times#i can draw full plan + elevation almost to perfect scale of every space i've ever been in in my life (freak behaviour)#but i literally cannot see myself in space while moving and THAT'S NOT SAFE IN A CAR
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ᥫ᭡. MAYBE ROMANCE IS A PLACE
Summary: Rafe is still angry at Sarah and you are his loving girlfriend.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff.
A/n: This is my first fic in a long time lol, so It will probably be a bit rusty. Please feel free to leave comments and feedback!
Winter had arrived. As the air got crispier and the winter hibernation loomed upon the Outer Banks, the chaos and trivialness of the Outer Banks began to simmer away.
As Rafe's girlfriend, you were rather thankful that Rafe would be distracted from his ongoing conflict with his sister's friends and now-husband. You did not undervalue the few months you would have Rafe to yourself, him already planning a city break to New York over Christmas. Yet the bliss you had become accustomed to by November soon disappeared.
As a student at Elizabeth City State University, winter took a toll on every aspect of your life. Studying in the final year of your college degree meant your work was piling up more and more by the day.
Sitting in Rafe's estate home you had spent the last 4 hours hunched over the desk in his office while he was off on 'business'- as he described. You were far too occupied to even consider for a moment what he was up to, even this morning you had begun studying before he had even woken up. So when he stormed into the office, his face raw red as he clutched his phone in his hand before he flung it on the sofa to your left along with his jacket, you were startled, to say the least.
After a few moments of stunned silence, you placed your pen on the desk before looking up at your boyfriend. Despite being together for several months now and finding ways to navigate his often erratic moods, sometimes you still felt as if you were on eggshells on how to approach him in moments like this. Rafe appreciated your often brutal honesty but also your sensitivity to his moods- without words spoken on it you both knew his unstable behaviours and outbursts weren't purely learned behaviours.
"What happened, Rafe?" He was still pacing the room, the way he was when he entered the room when you asked him the question. Yet without stopping, he huffed out a reply. "Fucking Sarah and her fucking games. I swear to fuck-" He began his more than common rant about his sister and presumably her friends if you hadn't interrupted. Sarah had grown a soft spot in your heart, you saw a lot of you in her. A young girl who had gone against what everyone in her life wanted for her in the name of love, as you did with Rafe. So when he began to ramble on about her you already knew she was unlikely to be in the wrong, especially when it came to her brother.
"Okay, let's calm down. Sit down for a second and breathe, you're practically burning up." You stood up, walking over to him unfortunately realising that your work would have to be put off for at least half an hour when he was in such a mood. "I don't want to fucking sit down, I can't believe she has done this shit again." Walking away from you back over towards the door before pacing back towards you.
"And what exactly has she done?" You questioned your boyfriend, glancing towards your phone that was bound to soon be bombarded with texts from Sarah regarding this exact problem. Sighing you look back over to him to see him staring at you, rage burning in his eyes. You obviously knew this anger was for Sarah but you weren't in the mood to get into an argument with a temperamental Rafe.
"I was minding my business trying to get some shit done with the estate over in Charleston when I saw- her with her stupid pogue friends. It's like she's rubbing it in my face y/n, does she even fucking care that her friends got our dad killed? I mean they probably fucking did it." Your face scrunched up in confusion, Rafe was upset that Sarah was hanging around her friends? Not to point out the obvious but that was a pretty commonplace that Sarah would be in, maybe not years ago when she had first hung out with the pogues- but now definitely. "Not to be Sherlock here Rafe, but just to check. You are angry that Sarah is hanging around with the same people she has been hanging around for 2 years now?"
His face dropped as if you had asked if the sky was blue. "Yes." An uncomfortable silence settled over the office. You were apprehensive about how to approach him now, sometimes you could sympathise with the oldest Cameron child who had a lot of unresolved trauma thanks to his late father Ward but this wasn't one of those times. You and Rafe had had this conversation years ago when you were only friends, and since you started dating- numerous times after. "Rafe, seriously? You need to stop worrying about this honestly. It has been years now."
He huffed in response, his features hardening and stare glazing over. Were you actually serious? His father had died only a few months ago now and he had been given the burden of not only figuring out everything that would happen with the family estates scattered across the East Coast but also working through Ward's will, a large portion of it which had been left to Sarah who couldn't care less clearly. He couldn't fathom why his loving girlfriend couldn't see what he could- a scheming sister who abandoned her family in favour of pogues. Huffing out a breath, he avoided your gaze knowing if he looked at you you would see the anger rising once more in his face. "That's the problem, you don't get it at all. Why would you get how much of a slap in the face this fucking is? All you do all day is sit here doing fuck all, whilst I'm out there making a future for us and deal with all the shit that comes with it."
Mouth wide open, you stare at your boyfriend as if he'd slapped you in the face- even though it damn well felt like he had. "Are you serious? Doing fuck all Rafe I sit here every day working my ass off for a degree so I don't spend the rest of my life living off your money. Something you complained Rose did to your fath-"
"Don't bring him into this, y/n." He interrupted, completely overruling your thoughts on his words- like he often did when overwhelmed by his emotions. "Rafe, I'm not bringing him into anything. All I'm saying is that I'm sitting here fucking studying to get a job- so god forbid I don't drop at your call to talk shit about Sarah." The room lingered in silence. Both of you refusing to concede to the other- why would you? You were well in your right to call him out on his bullshit.
"Look I don't expect you to get it. It's more than you'd ever understand- too complex" He muttered, walking off towards the door, undoubtedly planning to call up Barry for drugs until his anger faded. "Too complex? Please, Rafe, you don't understand how much work I do. I think the petty fights you and your sister have, that could be figured out if you just fucking sat down and spoke about it, are too complex for me."
Stunned at your words, he paused in his stride towards the door. Petty fights? What was petty about his sister being a raging bitch? "Whatever, I don't have time for this y/n. You're being completely ignorant of my issues."
"No, I'm not. I'm telling you that talking down to me will get you nowhere. I've stood by your side for years, even when we were just friends. Defended you to everyone who called you crazy because I knew, and I still know, that deep down you are just conflicted. I love you, and I will defend you to anyone outside this house. But when it's you and I, I will tell you when you're overreacting and need to think twice about what you are going to do. And that's exactly what you need to do now Rafe. I know you're grieving still and yes, seeing Sarah with the Pogues after all that happened may hurt you. But she is grieving in her own way too. And if that is with John B and his friends then so be it. Don't burn the bridge you have any more than you already have, in the face of something that has been in your knowledge for years."
He knew you were right. You were the one person he trusted. Not Topper. Not Kelce. Especially not Rose. You had been with him through everything, and when he looked back you often gave him advice that didn't always swing in your favour- but always his. He knew he wasn't the easiest person to be in love with, so the fact you stood by his side for all those years was a testament to your honesty and faithfulness. "I'm sorry."
And although his words were short and concise, you knew below the surface level they meant a whole lot more. He struggled with showing any emotion that wasn't frustration. But his harmful words aimed at you doing 'fuck all', wasn't going to fly by under your radar.
"And what in particular are you sorry for?" You asked, leaning your back against his desk. If he wasn't in such a rage when he walked in he would have realised how tired you looked. Your hair was still undone from when you had woken up this morning, drowned in his sweatpants and hoodie he had given you years ago when you were drunk out of your mind at a High School party. Tired- but beautiful. Walking over to you, suddenly sheepish at his uncalled-for anger towards you, he slipped his hands around your waist, slightly pressing his fingers into the delicate dip in your back. "I know you do so much work for us baby, I'm sorry for undermining everything you have done for me. You're working so hard every day, and I'm so proud of you." He admitted, looking lovingly into your eyes. His eyes full of pure love for a girl he had chased all his life.
And although there was so much more to come for you both as you faced the future of your relationship but also the future of the island. You knew that right now, this was enough for you. Standing with the man you love as he moved his hand up and down your back, content.
"Down talk my degree again and you're on the couch for a week."
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#rafe x reader#rafe cameron#rafe imagine#outer banks#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader
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Any tips on learning to make buttonholes? I've been putting it off for.... *checks notes* like three years.... but better late than never and all that. I don't have any fancy machines so I gotta do it by hand but that seems right up your alley.
Thanks!
It IS up my alley, yes, I do most of my buttonholes by hand!
I'm actually part way through filming an 18th century buttonhole tutorial, but I expect it'll be a few more weeks before I finish that and put it on the youtubes, so in the meantime here's the very very short version. (The long version is looking like it'll probably be about 40 minutes maybe, judging by how much script I've written compared to my last video?)
Mark your line, a bit longer than your button is wide. I usually use a graphite mechanical pencil on light fabrics, and a light coloured pencil crayon on dark ones. (I have fabric pencils too, but they're much softer and leave a thicker line.) You may want to baste the layers together around all the marked buttonholes if you're working on something big and the layers are shifty and slippery. I'm not basting here because this is just a pants placket.
Do a little running stitch (or perhaps a running backstitch) in fine thread around the line at the width you want the finished buttonhole to be. This holds the layers of fabric together and acts as a nice little guide for when you do the buttonhole stitches.
Cut along the marked line using a buttonhole cutter, or a woodworking chisel. Glossy magazines are the best surface to put underneath your work as you push down, and you can give it a little tap with a rubber mallet if it's not going through all the way.
I'm aware that there are some people who cut their buttonholes open using seam rippers, and if any of them are reading this please know that that is abhorrent behaviour and I need you to stop it immediately. Stop it.
Go get a buttonhole cutter for 10 bucks and your life will be better for it. Or go to the nearest hardware store and get a little woodworking chisel. This includes machine buttonholes, use the buttonhole cutter on them too. If you continue to cut open buttonholes with a seam ripper after reading this you are personally responsible for at least 3 of the grey hairs on my head.
Do a whipstitch around the cut edges, to help prevent fraying while you work and to keep all those threads out of the way. (For my everyday shirts I usually do a machine buttonhole instead of this step, and then just hand stitch over it, because it's a bit faster and a lot sturdier on the thin fabrics.)
I like to mark out my button locations at this point, because I can mark them through the holes without the buttonhole stitches getting in the way.
For the actual buttonhole stitches it's really nice if you have silk buttonhole twist, but I usually use those little balls of DMC cotton pearl/perle because it's cheap and a good weight. NOT stranded embroidery floss, no separate strands! It's got to be one smooth twisted thing!
Here's a comparison pic between silk buttonhole twist (left) and cotton pearl (right). Both can make nice looking buttonholes, but the silk is a bit nicer to work with and the knots line up more smoothly.
I've actually only used the silk for one garment ever, but am going to try to do it more often on my nicer things. I find the cotton holds up well enough to daily wear though, despite being not ideal. The buttonholes are never the first part of my garments to wear out.
I cut a piece of about one arm's length more or less, depending on the size of buttonhole. For any hole longer than about 4cm I use 2 threads, one to do each side, because the end gets very frayed and scruffy by the time you've put it through the fabric that many times.
I wax about 2cm of the tip (Not the entire thread. I wax the outlining/overcasting thread but not the buttonhole thread itself.) to make it stick in the fabric better when I start off the thread. I don't tend to tie it, I just do a couple of stabstitches or backstitches and it holds well. (I'm generally very thorough with tying off my threads when it comes to hand sewing, but a buttonhole is basically a long row of knots, so it's pretty sturdy.)
Put the needle through underneath, with the tip coming up right along that little outline you sewed earlier. And I personally like to take the ends that are already in my hand and wrap them around the tip of the needle like so, but a lot of people loop the other end up around the other way, so here's a link to a buttonhole video with that method. Try both and see which one you prefer, the resulting knot is the same either way.
Sometimes I can pull the thread from the end near the needle and have the stitch look nice, but often I grab it closer to the base and give it a little wiggle to nestle it into place. This is more necessary with the cotton than it is with the silk.
The knot should be on top of the cut edge of the fabric, not in front of it.
You can put your stitches further apart than I do if you want, they'll still work if they've got little gaps in between them.
Keep going up that edge and when you get to the end you can either flip immediately to the other side and start back down again, or you can do a bar tack. (You can also fan out the stitches around the end if you want, but I don't like to anymore because I think the rectangular ends look nicer.)
Here's a bar tack vs. no bar tack sample. They just make it look more sharp, and they reinforce the ends.
For a bar tack do a few long stitches across the entire end.
And then do buttonhole stitches on top of those long stitches. I also like to snag a tiny bit of the fabric underneath.
Then stick the needle down into the fabric right where you ended that last stitch on the corner of the bar tack, so you don't pull that corner out of shape, and then just go back to making buttonhole stitches down the other side.
Then do the second bar tack once you get back to the end.
To finish off my thread I make it sticky with a bit more beeswax, waxing it as close to the fabric as I can get, and then bring it through to the back and pull it underneath the stitches down one side and trim it off.
In my experience it stays put perfectly well this way without tying it off.
Voila! An beautiful buttonholes!
If you want keyhole ones you can clip or punch a little rounded bit at one end of the cut and fan your stitches out around that and only do the bar tack at one end, like I did on my 1830's dressing gown.
(I won't do that style in my video though, because they're not 18th century.)
Do samples before doing them on a garment! Do as many practice ones as you need to, it takes a while for them to get good! Mine did not look this nice 10 years ago.
Your first one will probably look pretty bad, but your hundredth will be much better!
Edit: Video finished!
youtube
And here's the blog post, which is mostly a slightly longer version of this post.
#ask#buttonholes#sewing#hand sewing#sewing tutorial#I've been procrastinating on the video this week#I want it done! I don't want to work on it I want new projects! I want to cut out more gloves!#currently forcing myself to do the last few buttonholes on these pants and then maybe I can cut out new gloves? as a treat?#but I hope I get some filming done tomorrow too
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In the Back of Your Mind ༊*·˚
18+ MDNI !!!
Pairing: Young! Severus Snape x F! Reader / You
Summary: Kinktober 2024 Day 4 - Stalking. Severus is in love with you from afar. Severus is also very good at legilimency. You show a tiny bit of interest by helping him out in class and he loses a little more of his self-control.
Tags: Stalking, P in V, Unprotected sex, Oral sex (f receiving, a LOT of it), Very dubious consent, Mind manipulation / control, Brainwashing, Improper use of legilimency, Toxic relationships, Yandere Snape, Creepy perverted behaviour, Fantasising, Implied loss of virginity, Self-blaming.
READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!
Word count: 3.7k
Read it on ao3! | Masterlist
Authors note: Severus in this fic is written to be a walking red flag, don't seek this kind of relationship irl!! I started to get a headache toward the end of writing this, sorry if it's noticeable in the writing!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
Splat, Severus’ books thud to the ground. A cacophony of laughs erupts behind him, led by James Potter, a satisfied smirk on his face from having caused this mild inconvenience. Severus huffs and rolls his eyes, luckily hidden by his mop of long black hair. He bends down to pick up the books, not at all surprised when James nudges one further away with the toe of his shoe. He shuffles forward and picks it up too, straightening himself back up, head hung low. He shuffles across the hall to lean against a wall further from the marauders, who hoot and laugh at him. Even putting himself in their shoes he can’t understand what’s so funny about watching someone pick up books. None of it matters anyway, because you’ll be here soon. Perfect you. You always arrive at this class at 12:56, with your friend by your side. You’d usually be chatting, finishing off a pastry from lunch, whatever had taken your fancy that day, Severus guessed it would be the Pumpkin pasties today. He watches the clock above the door into the potion's dungeon, feeling a familiar tingle of excitement. Just as he knew you would, almost exactly as the clock struck 12:56, your voice drifted around the corner down the corridor. He watches behind his hair as you come into view, chatting happily with your friend, carefully holding a hand in front of your mouth as you chew. He imagines you spotting him, smiling and making your way over, giggling and offering him a bite of your pastry. He’d go to bite it and you’d withdraw it playfully, just to tease him, you’d laugh that bright laugh you have and he’d give you a chastising look before stealing a kiss from you, making you smile wider. You’d wrap your arms around his neck, pushing closer so that–
He’s yanked from his thoughts by Slughorn opening the doors to the lab, the heavy wood scraping unpleasantly against the stone floor. Everyone starts to head inside, he keeps his head down as he enters, hanging back at his usual spot at the back of the room, the spot with a perfect view of you. He places his books down, watching as you quickly scoff the last of your pastry, a pumpkin pasty as he’d guessed before the lesson started. Throughout the lesson he’s watching you, barely concentrating on the topic at hand, he doesn't need to, he already read up on it in his own time so that he can watch you. He’s lucky, in a way, that he only has you for potions, no matter how much he wishes you always there, always by him, always in view, else he may never learn anything at all. You lean forward on the desk, your chin in your palms, legs swinging under the desk. He can vaguely make out the outline of your bra through the back of your uniform shirt, it’s black, clasped on the final row. He almost jots this down on his parchment before he catches himself. He imagines that if he told you this, you’d laugh and call him something childish and endearing, like a ‘silly sausage’, flicking his nose gently. He’s lost in this fantasy, this world where he can tell you that he’s watching you and you find it sweet, going through the motions of setting up his workstation for brewing. He doesn’t even realise that Slughorn is calling out to him until your head turns towards him, looking curious. He notices with a start that the entire class is looking at him, the marauders laughing tauntingly among themselves.
“Er… what?” he croaks out, his voice a little rough from barely speaking all day. He hears a few more chuckles, but not from you. Kind, perfect you. You just glance between him and Slughorn without a hint of judgement in your eyes.
“Your hair is getting rather too long, boy, you’ll have to tie it up for this potion, it’s very volatile,” Slughorn chortles from the front of the room. “Do any of the ladies have a spare?” He addresses the room. The marauders and a couple of the other boys explode with laughter, several of the girls immediately shake their heads, or do nothing, except beautiful, perfect you. You’re picking up your bag and digging through it without a second's hesitation and he could kiss you right now, not that there was any time he felt like he couldn’t. Your friend, obviously shamed into action by you, flicks half-heartedly through her bag too. The rest of the class returns to setting up.
“A-ha!” you exclaim, pulling out a plain black hairband from your bag. Black like your bra, his brain supplies, but he shakes that off because you’re walking over to him. He’s immediately sweating, luckily you’re unlikely to notice through his robes, although you may notice the growing sheen on his forehead. You stand in front of him, smiling like an angel. He’s not this close to you often, somehow you’re even more ethereal up close. He takes a shaky breath as you extend the hairband to him. "Don't listen to them, Black is only about an inch away from needing one himself,"
“Th-Thank you…” He mumbles, brushing your fingertips with his own on purpose. It feels like a thousand fireworks exploding under his skin and he smiles shakily. You smile and shrug.
“Just get it back to me when you can, or keep it honestly, I have hundreds and you’ll probably need it again,” you explain happily. You always seem to have nothing bringing you down and he admires it, wishing he could be so positive, perhaps it’s easy when you’re as flawless as you are. You skip off back to your workstation to your friend. He has something in his hand that is yours, something he’s allowed to keep, something he didn’t have to snatch when you left the room. There’s a couple of your hairs stuck around it and he shivers in excitement. This is something you have used, and he has it through legitimate means. He’s floating on air. While everyone else is beginning to brew, he hides behind his cauldron carefully laying down your hairs in his notebook, making sure not to break them, securing them so they don’t fall out.
Eventually, once he’s sure he can’t extract any more of yours from the hairband, he finally ties his hair back into a low ponytail, getting to work. He’s confident he can catch up on the brewing time he missed, even as he keeps being distracted by the sight of you across the room, your hair pulled up out of your face in the same type of hairband you gave him. You’re gorgeous, somehow more than usual, which shouldn’t be possible or, frankly, legal. He’s often wondered if you’re part Veela somewhere far back, because of how absolutely perfect you are. Through extensive research of your family tree, he was able to prove himself wrong, but he still wonders. His potion expertise allows him to catch up on the potion, still being awarded the best potion in class by the end of it. He almost feels bad for everyone who actually put some effort into brewing just to lose to him again, but that feeling melts away when he spots you grinning at him as Slughorn announces his win. The two of you have never been friends, but you have always been silently friendly toward him, refusing to be swayed by the rumours about him. It’s perhaps what he loves the absolute most about you. He’s packing up when you approach him again, smiling softly.
“I actually like your hair up like this,” you whisper, reaching over to gently flick the end of his short ponytail. Severus doesn’t know if you’re teasing him or not. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, both by your words and your playful touch. A hundred images of fantasies he’s had about you over the years flash through his mind. You’ve touched him! Willingly! In that playful way, he’d always imagined you would. It takes a lot of effort to remind himself that he can’t just kiss you right now. His mouth falls open and he lets out an undignified throaty noise. He quickly covers it up with a cough, blinking rapidly.
“I um… you… do?” he chokes out. You study his face for a moment, he’s sure you’re about to change your mind. You could never be so cruel though, he knows this, you’re too wonderful.
“Yeah… it’s nice to see your eyes sometimes,” you tease. Severus forces himself to laugh back casually, trying to force down the love hearts that are practically forming in his eyes. He also has to stop himself from grabbing you, never letting you move away again. He regrets holding himself back when your friend comes up behind you and ushers you away to your next class. You smile at him over your shoulder as you begin to leave. He quickly decides to use the compliments you’ve just given him against you. He wonders how much you really meant to them, but he has to try anyway. He invades your mind, silently smug about your lack of defences even after all this time. He feeds you a vision based on what you’ve just said. His head between your perfect supple thighs, looking up at you with wide needy eyes, his hair pulled back just like this, devouring your sweet cunt. He knows he’s been successful as he watches you suddenly flush and turn away, your cheeks bright red.
He doesn’t really know how you feel about these visions. He’s been invading your mind and planting them since the end of the fifth year. He would love to stick around in your brain, find out how you react to them, do some digging, and find out how you really feel about him, but he can’t risk it. The longer you’re in somebody's mind, the more they can feel the foreign presence. You’re still yet to put up any wards, even rudimentary ones, so he assumes you don’t realise you’re being invaded. You also haven’t started to avoid him more than normal, if you realised these visions were coming from someone else, there would only be one logical conclusion as to who they came from, but you haven’t withdrawn or confronted him in any way, so he figures he’s safe for now. The nature of the visions he gives you is probably enough to distract you from the momentary uncomfortable tingle of someone else being in your brain. He’s been experimenting for a long while to see what thoughts you react to the best. He often sits in the dining hall, somewhere where he has the perfect view of you, and plants various thoughts. You don’t seem to school your emotions very well, so he gets a vague idea of how you react to each scenario. He’s tried visions of him bending you over, roughly taking everything he wants from you, he’s tried visions of him begging on his knees to please you and everything in between. You blush beautifully at each one, whether from embarrassment or arousal, he isn’t sure. He can’t wait to feel your cheek heat up under his hand, because he will get to feel it, some day. You don’t seem to like the more extreme scenarios, complete domination or complete submission, but you don’t seem to mind either way if the power dynamic is a little milder. He doesn’t mind, he would be anything for you, do anything. What you seem to like best is when he feeds you a vision of him eating you out. He supposes it makes sense, it’s completely focused on your pleasure, so it’s practically all he’s been giving you lately. Sometimes he holds you down and calls you a good girl, sometimes you’re riding his face and calling him a good boy, you seem to like it either way. It makes him unbelievably smug.
After dinner, he’s trailing you and your friends to your common room, just to make sure that you’re safe, nothing more. He’s a little careless, feeding you the same vision over and over, enjoying watching you blush and stutter from afar as you try to chat with your friends. You probably think you’ve been hit with a lust potion or something, as he isn’t letting you think of anything else. It seems you hadn’t lied when you’d told him you liked his hair in the ponytail, as every time he gave you the same vision from earlier, he noticed your thighs tense. This isn’t a reaction he gets from you often at all, usually, it’s so subtle that he can be convinced it was unrelated, but this vision, in particular, seems to have you doing this every time. He’d dropped his fork at dinner just to duck under the table to watch your thighs clench, the sight nearly making his mouth water. He wished he could get under your table and spread your legs, make that vision a reality, but sadly he could not. He would do it in a heartbeat if you asked, fuck the consequences, fuck who could see. Maybe one day, if he kept torturing you with this vision, you would come begging. He feels his cock twitching eagerly in his trousers at the thought. You disappear into your common with your friends, him watching from around the corner. He sighs in disappointment, deciding to leave you be for the night since he can’t delight in your lovely little reactions any more. He hangs around at the corner for a moment, debating whether to head outside onto the grounds to watch you through your dorm window like he often did. The mini telescope he had to buy for Astronomy had turned out to be a fantastic use of money, even if he did often see your roommates instead. He had seen them all in various states of undress by now, but he couldn’t care about any of them in the least, he only had eyes for you.
Over the next few days, he eases off a little, realising how reckless he’d been. He couldn’t risk you knowing what he’s been doing, he can’t imagine that would end very well, even if you had seemed to grow to like the visions he gave you. He didn’t stop altogether, because that would have arguably been just as suspicious. He keeps it tame, one or two a day, maybe a little more innocent than normal. He can’t help but continue to use the information about you liking his hair back, making sure every fantasy he feeds you has him that way. He keeps your hairband, pulling his hair back every day now, because it makes you look at him just a second longer, and he’s obsessed with it. Lucius comments on it, saying it looks odd, but he couldn’t care less. It makes secretly watching you harder too, as he can’t hide behind his hair so much, but he makes do, all for those extra glances. He continues his routines, waiting for you to emerge in the mornings from your common room by hiding around the corner, watching you at every mealtime, trailing you back to the common room in the evening and then watching you through your window whenever he feels the need.
One night, once he’s happy you’re safely back in your common room, he turns to leave but trips slightly over his feet. He glances down, realising with an exasperated huff that the laces on his oxfords have come undone. He crouches down to tie them, setting his other knee on the ground. He fumbles with them unnecessarily, frustrated with himself. He vaguely registers footsteps approaching him, but not enough to react before he hears a voice.
“Oh… Severus, what are you doing here?” your soft angelic voice echoes slightly in the empty corridor. You seem confused, and, arguably, you have reason to be. The only thing down this corridor is your common room, and he has no excuse to be here. He swallows, staring straight down at the ground, his mind working a mile a minute.
“Here to return the hairband,” he grunts, thinking fast. It’s the only excuse he has, even if you had told him to keep it. He looks up at you from his crouched position, you’re a lot closer to him than he thought. He realises how similar this position is to some of the ones he’s forced into your brain. He’s pleased to notice, from the flush on your face, that you make this connection too, without it being planted. He shifts slightly, lowering both his knees to the ground and facing you properly. He looks up at you, his eyes burning with barely contained arousal. You’re flushed and shy as you look down at him and he dares to invade your mind to see what you’re thinking. He can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he creeps into your mind, only to find you’re imagining him, just as he is now, pushing up your skirt and burying his face between your legs. He shivers, you’re thinking of this all on your own. There’s a nag at the back of his mind, telling him you don’t quite seem to want to be thinking this, but he ignores it, reaching up for your thighs. You yelp in surprise as his cold, long fingers press into the warm skin of your thighs and he pulls you forward.
“Wha- what are you doing?” you squeak, stumbling helplessly toward him. He doesn’t answer, he feels possessed, and he’s already salivating. He brushes his nose against the skin of your thigh, just under the hem of your skirt, making you gasp. You smell divine, a vague hint of your perfume, presumably stuck to the fabric of your skirt, a hint of something that he realises, with a growl, must be your arousal. You try to step away, but he grips you harder, keeping you in place. He knows you want him, even if you don’t seem to know it yourself. You whimper as he licks a stripe up your thigh, the taste is faintly salty and he groans in pleasure. He hears the old castle creak slightly, reminding him that the two of you are out in the open. He withdraws slightly. You look utterly dazed above him like you don’t understand what’s going on. You realise that he’s walking you to a cleaning cupboard nearby, and your legs just blindly follow him. You want to protest, but can’t seem to find it in you. You had been fantasising about this for years now, even if the reason for these fantasies never seemed to make sense. He brings you in, shutting the door behind you. He’s kneeling again in an instant, he almost looks crazed as he bunches up your skirt. He doesn’t even give you time to acclimate before his tongue is on you through the material of your underwear. You gasp out loudly as he tastes the small wet spot of fabric, when did you even get wet? He takes a long deep sniff, his nose nudging at your clit through the fabric. He licks at you desperately until the material is soaked through, both with his saliva and your arousal. You were shocked by just how intensely your body was reacting to all this. You let him slide down your underwear, figuring there’s no point stopping him now. You lean back against the wall as he buries his head between your legs, shaking his head slightly to get even closer, the movement making you moan softly. He’s undeniably eager, lapping and slurping at you, but it’s fairly clear he’s never done this before. This is all he’s ever wanted, and he’s determined to make the most of it, the scent and taste of you making him feel insane. He rubs you all over his face, wriggling his tongue against you, gripping the flesh of your buttocks to keep you in place. He’s mumbling against you, about how long he’s been picturing this, but you can’t quite hear him, which is probably for the best. He makes up for his lack of experience with his enthusiasm, the way he’s looking up at you like he’s desperate to please. You find yourself falling apart all over his face shockingly fast, biting your lip to stifle your whines.
“Thank you, thank you,” he mumbles over and over as he laps you all up. He pulls away and you go a little limp, sliding slightly down the wall as he stands. You barely register what’s happening as he turns you around pressing you up against the wall, your eyes widen as he pushes inside you, but by now you’re well past the point of no return, so you simply brace yourself against the wall. He humps you like a dog in heat, sloppy and fast, you’re glad he made you orgasm earlier because you don’t get the feeling you will be cumming from this. Not that it feels bad, in fact, it feels quite good, making you moan as he bullies against you. He grips your waist tight with his slender fingers. “This is perfect, everything I’ve ever dreamed of,” he whimpers in your ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you, I’m never letting you go, you’re mine now,” you know what he’s saying is worrying, but your fucked out mind can’t quite realise the true danger of what he’s saying and what your lack of protesting is solidifying in his mind. “All mine,” he growls, his hips stuttering violently. He buries himself as deep as he can. “Fo-forever,” he groans shakily as he spills deep inside of you. He holds you there for a long time, your body limp in his arms as he pants against the back of your neck. You feel lightheaded, you can’t believe everything that’s just happened to you. He kisses your cheek, over and over, as if it's some sort of compulsion. “Mine, mine, mine,” he mumbles repeatedly, the reality of everything starting to sink in for you. Maybe you should have believed the rumours about his mental instability, maybe you should have kicked him away when he first grabbed your thighs, perhaps you should be telling him right now that you’re not his, but instead, a string of words come out of your mouth, feeling like they’re only half your own.
“Can you eat me out again?”
And he happily complies, sliding back down onto his knees.
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
xoxoxo
#severus snape#young snape#young severus#snape smut#severus snape smut#fanfic#harry potter#harry potter smut#hogwarts smut#slytherin#smut#toxic relationship#stalking#dubious consent#yandere#yandere snape#severus snape x reader#severus snape x y/n#severus snape x you#marauders era#kinktober#kinktober 2024#legilimency#death eaters
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reader x hyunjin based on the last skz code where they went camping - he looked so hot working on that tent 😯💨 - , going with the boys since it was all minho idea, reader doesn't like camping but she likes him so, building tension up bc that's hot too, and maybe he could switch places with reader's bff and sneak into their's tent? 🖤
pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader
t/w: friends to lovers ; Hyunjin is a flirt ; fluff ; a little suggestive.
w/c: 2.1k
a/n: it was fun to write! And yeah, Hyunjin really looked hot (I mean, he always is). The way he rolled his sleeves up omg, I couldn’t not write this. Hope you like this, anon!
↳ Reader has with the members the same friendship they have with each other.
"I hate this." Jiwoo complains as she drops the bag she was holding to the ground.
"Come on!" You try to cheer her up, "It's nice to be out in nature sometimes!"
She shoots you a glare, "That's easy to say," she says bitterly, "You hate camping more than I— hey!" she exclaims when you nudge her arm with your elbow, silencing her.
"I love camping." You lie loudly, with the boys just a few meters away from you.
"I can't say the same." Changbin comments, slapping his arm to kill a mosquito.
And suddenly, an arm falls around your shoulders. You turn towards the person who has come up next to you and see Hyunjin, unconsciously shrinking under his close presence, "I agree with Y/nie, a bit of fresh air away from the city is nice."
A small smile forms on your lips.
"You say that because you have no intention to help with anything." Chan chimes in, opening one of the bags he carried.
"Clever of you to assume that." Hyunjin responds, smiling.
"That's why Hyunjin will help set up the tent." Minho states, biting back a smile.
"Huh? I don't know how!" Hyunjin complains, taking his arm off your shoulders and moving closer to the older guy.
You regret that the contact was so short, but you maintain your composure and watch him walk away.
"You'll learn." Minho closes the conversation in a tone that allows no reply.
—
“You need to pump it?” Hyunjin asks, looking for the pump to inflate the tent.
You watch him curiously, seeing him search non-stop for a while.
“Did you find it?” Minho asks him, watching in disbelief. There are only 5 bags, how can he not have found it yet?
He starts to approach him, but you are quicker.
“They have accessories here.” Hyunjin says in a pouty, hopeless voice, closing a bag. He turns to continue searching but almost falls to the ground from the jump he makes when you suddenly stand up in front of him, very, perhaps too, close.
You hand him the pump that you found in a few seconds, “You suck at finding things.”
He puts a hand on his heart, opening his mouth and sighing slowly with closed eyes, as if he has just seen a ghost, “You scared me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatic behaviour, “Don’t thank me.” You say sarcastically.
He smiles, his front teeth slightly showing behind his slightly parted lips, “Thank you, Y/nie.” He blows you a kiss for show. You are used to this, yet you blush, while he bends down to attach the pump nozzle to the tent opening.
“Do you need help with that too?” you tease, smirking, trying to hide the visible blush coloring your cheeks from yourself, since he can't even see you.
“Huh?!” He stands up and rolls up the sleeves of the baggy t-shirt he’s wearing, showing his muscles, “I don’t need your help, these are enough for me.” He flexes his biceps.
You like them, don’t you? You think he’s cool, right? Hyunjin hopes so.
You chuckle at his words while he gets to work to really show what he’s capable of as you return to Jiwoo, who needs help with setting up your tent.
You don’t even realise you've been distracted watching him the whole time, as his muscles contract with the effort of pushing the pump handle, and soon small drops of sweat start to trickle down them.
Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands roll up the sleeves each time they unroll and on the way he lifts his head and pulls his hair back with one hand when it bothers him too much and prevents him from seeing. It almost seems like he does it on purpose so your eyes never leave him.
But someone's hand rests on your shoulder, waking you up. “He’s really handsome, isn’t he?” Minho smirks and holds back a laugh when you turn to look at him, blushing and trying to stammer out a response, but he stops you right away, “Wipe off all the drool you’ve spilled first.” He chuckles and walks away with your eyes on him, shaking his head slowly, amused.
Just then, you hear the sound of someone falling to the ground, and when you turn, you see Hyunjin sitting from exhaustion. His breathing is heavy, and pained sounds and light groans leave his lips, the heat of the sun making everything worse, while Jisung takes his place to finish inflating.
His friend hands him a black tank top to wear instead of the sweat-soaked shirt he has on, and that's what Hyunjin does.
He takes off the white t-shirt and uses it to wipe off the sweat covering his body. And once again, it seems like he does it to show off so that you watch and can’t take your burning eyes off him, off his body. But deep down, you know it’s not like that, and this thought forces you to immediately look away when his eyes meet yours, amused. It’s a quick contact, it lasts little but says a lot.
And you have to use all the self-control you have in your body not to set your eyes on that tight black fabric that perfectly hugs his body, making his muscles appear more tense and defined.
“That’s better.” he sighs with relief, soon returning to work and starting to add the stakes.
The silence is filled with the sounds of hammers, and you don't notice when he moves away from the group.
When you stand up after finishing setting up the tent, you look around, confused by his absence. “Where's Hyunjin?” you ask Jiwoo, who is taking out lights from a bag to use as decoration.
“He went for a walk over there; there's a river a bit further from here.” She points in a direction with the index finger of her free hand.
“Oh.” you nod in understanding.
Only a few seconds of silence pass before she speaks again, “Go to him, he's alone; I'll take care of decorating the tent.” It's written all over your face, what you want to do. She suppresses the urge to roll her eyes and winks at you instead.
And you don't need to be told twice.
When you arrive at the spot, you search for him with quick, darting glances. “Hyunjin?” you call out before finding him lying on a large rock with his hands on his belly and his eyes closed.
He didn't answer, so you gather that he's sleeping. You slowly approach him, trying not to make any noise, and sit down next to his sleeping body.
You look at his serene face and can almost hear his calm breath and sense the steady beats of his heart.
The place itself is very quiet. It's cozy, isolated from everyone else, and intimate.
You glance around a couple of times with furtive eyes, but you end up realising that you're alone. Then you look at him, his slightly parted inviting plump lips. You bring your face close to his almost instinctively, faces so close that you can feel his warm breath on your own lips, but then you pull away.
What are you trying to do? It's wrong and stupid. If someone saw you, it would be a mess.
And if you had done it, he would have noticed, because he's awake.
Your ears burn, your cheeks flushed with shame and guilt when his eyes open.
He doesn't say anything for a few seconds, looking at you with distant irises, wrapped in thoughts, then he sits up, raising his torso.
"I heard you calling me but I didn't feel like answering.” he tries to smile to tease you, but what comes out is more of a grimace. You pretend not to notice though, lying to him as well as to yourself.
"I knew it, that's why I've been sitting in silence." You smirk, trying to push away the shame and alleviate the strange tension that has arisen.
However, the situation changes so quickly. There is still tension between the two of you, but it is different with his hand holding your chin and his thumb slowly, intensely stroking your lower lip. Intense, too, is the look his burning eyes give to your rosy lips.
When your eyes meet, his movements stop, and it’s difficult for you to tell what he is thinking. The eyes are the reflection of the soul, he likes to say, but at the moment his do not reflect much.
And then, he pulls away from you. His gaze, his hand, a moment later are no longer on you.
He stands up, "You had something on your lips." He looks around, normal, apparently enjoying the scenery.
You touch your lips, embarrassed, "Oh."
He looks at you and chuckles softly, sitting back next to you with a now more serene air.
One of his arms rests on your shoulder in a friendly gesture, trying to get as close to you as possible.
"I like this place, it's quiet and relaxing," he says. "I want to paint it."
"Hey lovebirds!" You hear someone say from just a bit further away from you. You immediately recognize it's Jisung's voice, who has joined you. "Get a room."
Hyunjin chuckles, and you try to do the same, but your mind is clouded by the memory of his gesture.
The fact that he didn't stop you when you tried to get closer to his lips, the way he touched yours with his thumb.
These images still flash in your mind while everyone else sleeps. You touch your lips with two fingers almost unconsciously, smiling sadly.
But apparently, you're not the only one lost in thought, as the entrance to the tent is opened and the little lamp in between you and Jiwoo is turned on. The latter gets up and leaves, letting someone else in.
And how could you not recognize that head of dark hair making its way inside, closing the entrance zipper after murmuring a 'thank you' and receiving a nod in response.
"Hyunjin? What are you doing here? It's late." you ask him, but receive no answer.
You receive no answer because instead, his lips crash against yours in a needy gesture.
Your eyes widen at the sudden gesture, but you don't push him away, not even when his lips start moving on yours shortly after. Instead, you reciprocate.
It's desperate. Your movements aren't even in sync, but it's okay. It's perfect like this; you couldn't ask for anything better.
One of his hands rests above your ear, caressing it so delicately that you barely even notice, as if you’re made of porcelain.
You break the kiss with quick breaths and uncontrollable heartbeats, emotions finally laid bare.
"I've wanted to kiss you for so long." he admits in a whisper, looking into your eyes.
You find the strength to speak, albeit lightly, "Today by the river… I didn't just watch you." You admit, and you can't help the hint of embarrassment you feel in saying those words to him.
"I know, and I hoped so much that you'd do what you were about to do, but you stopped." His smile doesn't falter for a moment. "You didn't have anything on your lip; I just used it as an excuse to touch you. I actually wanted to kiss you, but when I looked into your eyes, I didn't have the courage." He confesses.
"And here you are now." You chuckle.
He huffs a chuckle, "It wouldn't have been like this if you hadn't tried to kiss me first."
“Now I wish I hadn’t stopped earlier today, by the river.” you say, lowering your eyes to his lips and then back to his, licking your own lips. “I’ve always thought you have nice lips and I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, you know?”
“Now you know,” he says happily. “Or do you need to explore a little more?”
You don’t even need to answer; he already knows the response. And once again, your lips are on each other’s, in a kiss that quickly becomes fast and hungry.
Your hands roam over each other’s bodies, fingers tangled in hair, hands gripping cheeks, hips, ending up on thighs.
Your breaths are fast, and the tent heats up. You’re so lost in each other that you don’t realise you’re not being very quiet anymore.
It’s Changbin’s voice that wakes you up and makes you pull away. “Could you guys keep it down a bit?” he shouts from a couple of tents away from yours.
“If you two don’t let me sleep or wake me up at any hour of the night, I’ll put you in the air fryer.” Minho’s voice intervenes right after, annoyed.
You and Hyunjin lock eyes and then laugh silently.
“At least we’ll be put together.”
#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fanfic#stray kids fanfic#stray kids x reader#hyunjin x reader fluff#stray kids x reader fluff#hyunjin fluff#asks ♡#anon ask ♡
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"look what you do to me" with ye olde cregan I BEG
worthy of you.
Cregan thinks his little brother is not worthy of a woman like you, which is why he takes the opportunity to show you that he is the one for you.
MASTERLIST
PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader / (Side) Masc!OC x Fem!Reader.
TAGS — smut (f!oral sex, p in v, praise kink, loss of virginity), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, OC is a terrible man, older!cregan, widower!cregan, age gap (early 20s and early 30s). If something is missing let me know!!
AUTHOR'S NOTE — first of all, a big thank you to my gorgeous @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader and helping me edit this, ily!! i got a bit inspired by this plot and it's longer than i expected💀
Thank you Bel for sending this request because i loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy it!!🤍
WORD COUNT — 4.3k
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.
How cruel were the gods when they put you in his brother's arms instead of the ones you craved the most.
The first time that Lord Stark laid his eyes upon you, he felt the air leaving his lungs, and his voice being caged inside his throat. His eyes immediately widened at the beautiful sight of you, bewitched by the way you so politely greeted him, and mesmerized by the way you uttered his name. Cregan was in awe, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the quickened pace of his heart as he smelled the sweet scent of vanilla coming from your hair. He wondered if you were some kind of nymph, effortlessly enchanting him with a single glance.
After the loss of his wife, few were the women who managed to catch his eye. A couple of balls were made, and they all resulted in the same thing; a group of ladies following him around, showering him with shallow compliments and words that he did not wish to hear.
How lucky he felt when he saw you walking in with your father, Lord Reed, into the ballroom, and how miserable he left that night after learning you were betrothed to his young brother; Edrik, a careless young man who —according to Lord Stark— is not worthy of you. At all. He's ruthless, the opposite of a chivalrous man. Cregan knows that while you were waiting for him for dinner, he's fucking some whores in brothels and paying with gold that he would steal from Cregan's chambers. He despised him. He was ashamed of him, and his behaviour towards you. You were a lady, a delicate and sweet girl who could have found someone better.
Someone like himself, he would think.
At that moment, while you were nervously chewing your nails sitting at the small table of your chambers as you drank tea, Cregan was out there searching for his younger brother, and trying to force him back to the Winterfell castle. That very same day was supposed to be your wedding, and the groom was nowhere to be seen. You knew better than to cry, you didn't want to suffer for him anymore; so you just sat there, slowly tapping your fingertips against the delicate porcelain of the cup, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about something else.
At that point, you were just begging for him to be alive and well. Nothing more.
A few minutes passed when you saw Cregan entering your chambers with his grey eyes staring intensely at you as he walked inside. His heavy boots stumped against the wooden floor, prompting you to stand up a bit too quickly. You noticed the pitiful look in his eyes when he noticed you were still wearing that white wedding dress; his heart shattered for you.
“Did you find him?” you dared to speak first. Somehow, your voice came out colder than both of you expected.
“We did,” he nodded. “He was in a brothel… drunk and enjoying his last hours of freedom, as he said.” The annoyed tone of his voice was quite clear to hear as he spat every single word with rage and even shame.
Gods forgive him for this insurmountable wrath towards his kin.
“Where is he now?” The question slipped out of your lips merely out of habit.
“In his chambers, being bathed by one of the maids,” Cregan explained, unable to bear the vision of your tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. He sought to look at a place over your shoulder, just to ease the ache in his chest.
It wasn't sadness, not at all. It was ire; he knew it. It was supposed to be your special day, and your betrothed decided to ruin it, though you were not surprised.
“Is it the maid that sucks his cock every morning? Or is it the one that let him fuck her in the arse?” you mockingly mentioned, lifting the cup of tea and sipping it slowly. The knot in your throat was becoming unbearable, too tight and barely letting you utter a word.
Cregan's eyes softened with sorrow. “My lady,” he started, daring to take a step closer to you. The small rounded table was the only thing keeping you two apart. “Allow me to apologize for the misbehaviour of my brother, you deserve the utmost respect from whoever is lucky enough to marry you. Edrik is childish, and his actions often bring shame to our family name.”
“You shall not apologize for your brother's mistakes,” you softly said, sighing tiredly at this situation repeating over and over again. “You're an honourable man, Lord Stark, it's a pity your brother is not even half of the man you are.”
Cregan felt his heart tapping against his chest, even under those thick layers of fur, he was still able to hear how fast it was beating. His eyes briefly looked away from you out of shyness, feeling so flustered by your mere presence. Oh, gods, this was excruciating; seeing you there with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, looking so fragile and bewitching. The white dress fit you perfectly, you were radiant that night, and he cursed at his brother for looking down on you.
Edrik was a dumb boy. Luckily, Cregan was a wise man.
“It pains me to know he doesn't appreciate you,” he muttered as he took unhurried steps closer to you. “You deserve so much more.”
“It's the best I can get, I suppose,” you shrugged. “At least my betrothed is indulging his uncontrollable lust with whores instead of forcing himself on me. It could be worse.”
“But it's not supposed to be bad at all,” Cregan discussed. “A husband has to provide for his wife, and treat her with respect.”
His hand approached your left cheek and he placed it there, cupping your face. Your soft skin felt his calloused fingers and suddenly all the air of your lungs vanished. Your lips parted, and that simple gesture blurred Cregan's mind with the urge to devour them. As he looked down at you, you could see in his eyes that there was a rare sparkle in them. It was so mesmerizing.
“I guess you're asking too much from your brother, my Lord.”
He scoffed.
“If only the gods had been more merciful of us, you would be my wife instead,” he mentioned with a wistful tone. He took another step, and now you were able to smell the pine scent from his clothes. “We probably would be in our private celebration by now.”
You sighed delightedly as his thumb went to your lower lip, lightly touching it as he glanced at it. Falling in love with him had been so easy; he was so kind, so courteous and gentle. Whenever his brother was cruel and mean to you, he was always there to make you feel good. Many were the times you imagined this wedding being with him instead of Edrik.
“I would be looking at your beautiful body as you remove this gown. Only for me to see,” he whispered, his touch going downwards until he grabbed the pearls around your neck. “I would take my time to appreciate every single inch of your skin, touching you… kissing you, making sure you know you're the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.”
His face leaned towards you, and you felt his nose rubbing against your cheek as you closed your eyes. His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine while your mind was imagining every single word that came out of his plump lips. His touch reached down your sides until you felt his strong grip on your waist.
Cregan took a deep breath as he smelled your sweet perfume; he couldn't help but sigh.
“I would pleasure you in so many ways,” he continued, his voice so raspy it made your knees weak. “With my mouth, my hands… until all that comes from your lips is my name.”
“Cregan…” you breathed out, and he hummed in delight.
“Yes, just like that.”
You dared to open your eyes, meeting his and seeing how they were dilated and glazed with lust; yours were probably in the same state. You were able to feel the heat between your legs, almost causing you to squirm to make you feel something. Something to sate the intense desire crawling around your body.
“I would do so many things to you, my darling,” he murmured. “Would you like me to do them?”
You nodded.
“Yes?”
“Yes,” you replied, embarrassingly fast.
His hands went to your back, calloused fingers finding their way to untie your gown. Your chest was against his, and the closeness did nothing but increase your desperation to have him.
“My brother doesn't deserve you, does he? He is just a stupid boy, and you deserve a man.” You felt the dress loosening around your body and you swallowed hard at the expectation. “Please, let me be that man for you…”
You were unable to bear it any longer, the temptation being too much. You closed the distance between you two at the same time he started to slip the dress down your body — until it pooled around your feet. His lips fit perfectly against yours, they were slightly chapped due to the cold, yet they felt heavenly. He moaned against your mouth when you boldly deepened the kiss by grabbing Cregan’s nape and pulling him closer to you, all while his hands pressed your lower back.
It was slow and passionate, taking your breath away as he claimed your mouth with his tongue, swirling against yours and stealing soft whimpers from you. Soon, he grabbed your thighs to lift you and sat you on the table; the cup of tea spilling to stain your white undergown, you couldn't care less. His lips on yours were all you could think of as his hands gripped your body, pressing you against him.
The thin skirt of your undergown lifted as you wrapped your legs around Cregan’s waist, and his hands began to sneak under it to touch the soft skin of your thighs. He left a heat on your body with his fingertips, one that made you desperate to feel him. All while his mouth was reluctant to leave yours, obsessed with the sweet taste of you. He would unconsciously groan, and as he pressed his hips against yours you could easily notice the effect you had on him.
He pulled away to take a look at you, he found your swollen lips glistening with remains of your and his drool. Your eyes were sparkling as stars and your breathing growing agitated. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Cregan Stark had fallen in love with you once again at that moment.
“You should belong to me instead,” he huskily said. “I should be the one who takes your body-”
“Do it,” you interrupted without doublethinking it. Your tone was decided and demanding, it shocked him a little.
“Oh, my little one…” he murmured with a strained voice as if the thought had left him breathless.
“I don't want your brother… I never did.” Your confession drew a small smile on his lips. “Since day one all I've wanted is you.”
He took a deep breath before cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye.
“Look what you do to me,” he murmured as you stared at his face, noticing a rare glow in him. “Believe me when I say your feelings are mutual… you've been on my mind ever since you arrived. It was torturous to see you being disregarded by Edrik while I was sitting there wishing I could just hold your hand. My heart, my body, my soul, it all aches for you. I'm desperate to feel you, and I cannot bear it any longer.”
The despair in his voice, so clear and vivid.
“Allow me to do it,” he pleaded, “I'm begging you to let me have a taste of you, at least for a night… so I can finally end this torment.”
“I will accept,” you managed to say in small gasps. “Only if you promise me this won't be the last time.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
The time was not wasted, you quickly leaned forward to kiss him again with the same intensity and need as before. Both of you moaned against each other while your hands were swiftly untying his snow-covered coat at the same time his were pulling down your undergown until it fell down your arms. Your breasts were freed and you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed; no man had seen you in such a vulnerable state before. However, all insecurities vanished from your overthinking mind once he laid his eyes on your chest and sighed, enamoured by the view.
He gave you a single glance at you to ask for your permission and, once you nodded, his fingers travelled down your body until they trapped your nipples. He gently squeezed them between his digits, soft enough to not cause you any discomfort but hard enough to make them peak. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing silent gasps to fall down your lips as he admired your pure flesh. He leaned forward then, and you instinctively leaned back; before you noticed his tongue was lapping at one of your sensitive buds, swirling around it and nibbling on it from time to time. You held your body up with your forearms, closing your eyes once he sucked on it. A moan escaped you as he pulled apart from it and went to the other one, giving it the same attention.
His hand was grabbing the small of your back as you touched his hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks and pulling them whenever his tongue made you feel butterflies in your belly. It was so good, and you were blissful thinking that you were doing it with him. Your ever-kind and loving Lord of Winterfell.
Suddenly, his mouth traced a path down your body, licking and kissing your belly until he reached your pelvis. You lifted your hips once his hands started to pull down your last vestiges of coverage, and in mere seconds you were completely exposed to him as your cheeks got warm once again.
Your legs were spread by his hands on your inner thighs, and Cregan was able to see the mess in your core; you were soaking, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste you. For a few seconds, he was just there admiring you, and then he started to kiss your legs from your ankles, all the way to your hips, shamelessly marking you and leaving red bruises behind; you loved it.
Cregan gave you a quick look, noticing how you were almost shaking with expectation; your eyes reluctant to leave his frame as his thumb spread your swollen lower lips and exposed that little, throbbing button begging for his attention. He stuck out his tongue, slowly brushing it against your clit. You almost died there. Your hand immediately went back to his hair, pulling it a bit too harshly for his liking.
“Sh…” he cooed, kissing your inner thighs in the meantime. “Come on, little one, let me make you feel good, I know you want it.”
Gods, you did. You need it.
“Keep your legs open for me, and let me have my feast,” he murmured before his tongue lapped on your pearl again.
The way he teased your flesh so sensually made your limbs shake. You were gasping as he licked and kissed every single part of you, lurking around and trying to discover your most sensitive spot. Once he found it, you saw stars.
Your betrothed was far from your mind when Cregan dared to push one of his long, thick fingers inside your weeping hole. You cried out his name as your legs shook around his head and, as he curled up his fingers to rub your walls, you felt a knot in your belly starting to form and begging to be released. Goosebumps erupted over your stimulated body.
“Gods… Cregan!” you found yourself whining. He hummed delighted with the way his name sounded from your lips.
His tongue fervently began to flick your clit as he added another finger, pumping them slowly but deeply. The sound of your juices coating his digits was becoming addictive; so sinful, yet heavenly. He was desperate to feel you all.
As he moaned and whimpered against your soaked flesh, you couldn't help but feel an unknown sensation in your gut; as if you were about to explode. Your heart was beating incredibly fast as you leaned your head back and let your mouth spill thousands of obscene sounds; Cregan's cock twitched in his pants the moment he looked up at you.
Gods, you were so fucking beautiful. It was not fair that you belonged to someone else.
Suddenly, with a shout of shock, you felt yourself peak. You gasped loudly and you clenched your eyes shut. Cregan felt your walls squeezing his fingers so deliciously as he drank from you and licked you clean. By the end of it, you were sweating, breathing fast and your hips twitching. You turned into a quivering mess.
Cregan lifted his face, giving one wolfish look before quickly grabbing your cheeks. He desperately kissed you as he groaned in ecstasy. You tasted yourself on his lips as he picked you up and took you towards the bed… the very same bed you were supposed to be sharing with your betrothed that night.
The guilt hit you, briefly making you feel dirty and sullied. But then, as you saw Cregan slowly removing his attires, you remembered who was your betrothed, and what he was doing earlier that day. If he could fuck a whore, why couldn't you fuck another man? You doubted the lesser brother would even notice.
Besides, it wasn't just a man, it was Cregan. Your Cregan.
So, now, as the handsome man in front of you removed his last piece of clothing, you felt your walls clench around nothing as you glanced at his cock. His head furiously red, already leaking and twitching as he started to crawl from the bottom of the bed until he was between your legs. He kissed you again, this time slower… more tenderly. You sighed against his lips.
“You're still a maiden,” he said as a statement rather than a question. You nodded, either way, confirming his words. “Then I'll go slow… though I must warn you, it might hurt for a bit, but I promise you, little one, it'll all be worth it in the end.”
“I trust you,” you whispered as your hand reached his cheek, gently caressing his stubble.
“Open your legs for me, my darling,” he commanded, and you did as he said. He looked down at your entrance, “seven hells…” he groaned at the sight, before spitting down to his cock and stroking it a few times. Cregan swiped the ruddy tip of his prick against your folds, teasing them to hear you moan one more time before carefully pressing the blunt head against your entrance.
You cried out once he started to stretch you out, feeling the slight burn that left you breathless as he made his way inside the tight hole between your trembling legs. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth; Cregan noticed your discomfort, so he brought his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles on it and trying to make you relax. You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving through the pinch.
Your tightness would try to push him away as tried to go deeper, yet he found a way to keep going until he was fully buried inside of you, whimpering your name. Your soft walls felt so fucking good around him, almost making the man drool against your shoulder. His sweaty forehead was pressed against your cheek and you could hear his ragged breathing in your ear, causing chills down your spine. He gave you a moment to forget about the pain, all while he peppered your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites.
“I think I have just reached heaven,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep and seductive. “So tight, so small around my cock…” he continued words that left his mouth before he could even think about them.
“I- I feel so full…” you muttered, feeling his length pulsing inside of you.
“Shh… I know, my darling, just take deep breaths for me,” he commanded you, and you obeyed. His thumb pushed slightly harder against your clit and you hummed. “Mhm, does that feel nice? My beautiful girl, you're doing such a good job for me,” he praised you, “taking me so well.”
“Feels good…” you nodded.
“It does, doesn't it?” he softly chuckled. “Gods, the way your sweet little pussy takes my cock makes me fucking crazy. Can- can I move? Fuck– Is it okay if I start moving?”
His gentleness and softness did little to make you forget about the way he spoke to you. His dirty words made you clench around his girth, feeling butterflies in your lower belly. You needed Cregan to move and bring back the effervescent heat.
“Please, do,” you begged, and he wasted no time in obeying.
His mouth dropped open as he dragged his cock out of your tightness, noticing how it was covered by your slickness. He pushed in again, filling you and causing you to moan in simultaneous discomfort and pleasure. His left hand went to your hip, grabbing your skin and going deeper inside of you. Slowly at first, he started to fasten his pace until the sound of your bodies colliding against each other was mixed with your moans.
Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he hid his face on your neck, his harsh breathing causing chills on your skin as he moved slowly but forcefully; such a perfect pace to make you see stars. Your legs were bent at each side of his body, while he took you and claimed your shaky frame. Soon you realized that he had not lied, it felt magnificent once the pain started to fade away.
His name would escape your lips as if it was an endless chant, incentivizing him to keep going, to continue his movements until you couldn't bear it anymore. A layer of sweat would cover your body as Cregan's weight was on top of you, it felt as if you were burning yet you didn't want to push him away. You craved to feel his skin on you, loving the way his pelvis would brush against your throbbing clit each time he thrusts into you.
“Fuck, my darling,” he groaned in your ear, “your pussy was made for me to fuck,” he whimpered, biting your earlobe. You replied with a whine. “So fucking delicious, feeling so tight around my cock.”
Cregan lifted his face to look at your messy state. The eye contact that followed almost made you reach your peak once again, it was all so intense it made your head spin. Your nails dug into his flesh and he whispered your name; you hummed in response.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.
He further quickened the pace, his cock now touching that sweet spot of yours. Your walls would clench around him as you felt the much-needed orgasm approaching. A ring of your juices appeared on his cock, and he changed positions so now he was on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking you faster, rougher.
He saw your breasts bouncing on your chest as he thrusted into you, the sight so arousing that he felt his cock twitch inside of you. His stones were full, ready to burst at any moment now. However, no matter how much he desired it, he knew he just couldn't release inside you. No risks must be taken if he wanted to do this again.
With your legs spreaded, his thumb effortlessly reached your exposed clits, flicking it and smearing your wetness around it. Your limbs shook as your mind went numb, and soon your orgasms washed over you. You cried out his name, tightening your grip around his cock.
That's when he pulled out and poured himself on your soaked flesh, staining your folds with his pearly seed.
Once he took a quick look at you, he felt a coil of raw pleasure snake around his body. A whine left his lips as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking it a few times to make sure he would cover you with every single drop. He was overstimulated already; sweaty, breathless and flushed. He looked so beautiful like that.
“Thank you,” he breathed out, caressing your thighs.
You frown, slightly confused. “What- what for?”
Instead of answering you right away, he leaned and joined his lips with yours, gently and tenderly kissing you. His hands cupped your face and yours laid on his thick arms. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to leave soft kisses all over your face making you giggle.
“For giving me the honour of making you mine,” he replied. “Though I must confess that I don't think I will be able to live without having you in my bed every night.”
You felt a smile appearing on your lips and a familiar warmth on your cheeks.
“Well,” you sighed, “perhaps, you should do something about it.” That flirtatious tone was a bit odd coming from you, but Cregan loved it.
“Yes,” he nodded, softly chuckling as he leaned to kiss you once more. “I will definitely do something about it.”
@arcielee
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#cregan stark#cregan stark imagine#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#cregan stark smut#hotd#house of the dragon#house stark#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#hotd smut#hotd fanfic#cregan stark fanfic
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TW: NSFW, fem bodied reader, use of f*ck, smut, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, make up s*x, unhealthy dinamics (don't blame me Fyodor is a warning himself), possesive behaviour (if anyone treats you like that please run away) Fyodor might be ooc and whipped for the reader, teasing, both parts acting immature (communication is the key people), no use of y/n, breeding kink, After reading ep 117 please don't hate my pookiebear 😞
Word count: 6.6k (I don't know what came over me so enjoy)
Click here for part 1
✧₊⁺.𖥔 ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊⁺✧
Yeah, I want it all (from you)
Bye, bye, baby
Bye, bye, bye~
⁀➴
.𖥔 ݁ ˖
Don't you know who you're dealing with?
Um, do you think you'll buy me lots of diamonds?
(Yes, of course I will my darling)
⋆⭒˚。⋆⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Blurring the lines between real and the fake
Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me
He will do very well
I can tell, I can tell
Keep me safe in his belltower hotel
He's loving my look
And I'm loving all his strategic ways
I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"
(Yes, of course I will, my darling)
:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺:・゚✧:・.☽˚。・゚✧:・.:
Life was not easy—at least for you. Actually, the last few weeks have been a living hell. Well, the issue was your ex-husband. Fyodor. You tried everything you could to ignore him, but failed miserably. But why was he so stubborn and casual to the extent that it got on your nerves? Why, out of nowhere, was he talking to you about the weather and then suddenly asking you why you had eye bags? Or were you sleeping enough and well? Sometimes hiding your frustration was difficult. You nearly thought that he was doing all of it on purpose. That sneaky bastard. So, your day looked like this: go outside and accidentally run into your ex-husband, try to avoid him at all costs, hide, and fail miserably.
After that, go home and spend the entire day and night thinking about how to avoid seeing his face again. But he was appearing out of nowhere at the times when you least expected him. All of this was difficult because he was exceptionally smart and always a step ahead. And a little bit hot. He couldn't see your thoughts, right? If so, you would be in trouble. Because the last time he drove you into a corner, his body was so close to yours that you could hear nothing but your own heartbeat.
Also, the 'worst' part was how he touched you so softly, just like how you liked it. Like after your exhausting day at work, when the only thing you craved was nothing but his touch, and how you two only breathed in each other's presence while clinging to one another. But whatever it was, only remained in the past now. But the most absurd part was you getting nervous and not even making eye contact with him. Damn, why was it so hard? He shouldn't have any meaning to you or a place in your heart anymore. Look at him, already healed and living his life as if mocking you. So why did you feel so stuck and frustrated?
So you gave him indifferent answers like "Oh, I'm fine" or "Yeah, the weather is quite nice today. Isn't it, Mr. Dostoevsky?" Oh, so you knew how to push his buttons, didn't you? You naive doll. Reminding him of something that he didn't want to remember or even acknowledge was on his mind like a disease: the fact that you two were indeed divorced. That you weren't his—at least on paper. Well, what else could he expect? By staying by his side like the cute, clever thing you are, you've eventually learned a few tricks too, but who knew that you would be using them against him? But then he smiled....Oh, that smile that you adored...But why it felt rather cold?
So there you were trying to build up a wall between yourself and him, and there he was angry and in fight with his heart. And now the formality? Yes, it was laughable indeed. Of course, it was reasonable that you would not act...as you did before the divorce. It was normal, right? So he took a step back from you, smiled again, and said goodbye as if you were an old friend of his and like he was going to see you again.
And there you were, standing dumbfounded and trying to process everything while he was walking away from you like it was a normal encounter. Well, who knew what was going through his mind? Maybe he was up to some mischief? You didn't bother to think about it since your heart was beating abnormally fast.
But for now, seeing him wasn't the main problem because you had a wedding to attend—your friend's wedding. To be honest, you weren't the most excited person about this event. Maybe you've become numb to your feelings, or 'he' was just appearing from the darkest parts of your mind. Was it always like this? Even when he wasn't by your side, he was the only thing you could think about.
He didn't play some dirty tricks on you, did he? So, just to clear your mind, you put on your dress, apply your makeup, and get into the taxi in case it starts to rain on your way. It was a cloudy day. What lovely weather for a wedding, isn't it? The wedding was held in a luxurious place in the city. Affording a place that expensive must have been hard on them since they weren't that rich in the first place, which is none of your business, but going to places like that felt a little weird 'cause it only reminded you about those days you've wished to forget. After getting out of the taxi, gray clouds greeted you.
It was becoming clear that not bringing an umbrella with you was a bad idea. You began walking inside the building to take the elevator. A sigh left your lips. It felt like it was going to be a long night. It has been a long time since you went into a crowd like this. But it was refreshing to talk to old friends and have chats with people. It made you forget your worries and feel a little freer. The place was pleasant, just like how you liked it. You got some champagne and began slowly sipping. You promised yourself that you weren't going to drink more than one glass, so you were going to cherish this one glass of champagne well.
Your head hurt a little because of all the chatter and music. The lights weren't helping either. So you decided to get away from the crowd a little bit. Taking your only friend—a glass of champagne—with you to the nearest window close to the terrace, you looked outside briefly. Well, it was raining cats and dogs outside. Another sigh left your lips. The sound of raindrops falling down the window and the accompanying sound of thunder were putting your mind at ease, even just a little bit. At least it was distracting you from your thoughts. So you take another sip and try to come up with things that were nice about this place.
The place was to your liking, your friend was happy, you got your drink with you, and many people were there—many, many people, actually. It was crowded. Maybe if you stayed long enough, you got to eat a slice of cake. Many people you didn't even know greeted you, gave you compliments and kissed your hand as a compliment—a gesture to show their interest in you. Yes.....it was a wonderful wedding indeed. Your battery was low, so eating cake might make you feel a little better.
So you decided to take a slice for yourself. But as you passed through all these people with your remaining energy, one of them caught your attention. His back was turned to you, but you could tell who he was in an instant. He was a little far away from you, in a distant corner of the place. At first, you decided your brain was playing games with you, or maybe you were drunk, but your glass was only half empty. So you instantly took a turn on your heels and hurried in the opposite direction. Why in all of those people he was here? He wore a black suit, but he didn't have his jacket on.
He was holding it on his arm while his hands were in his pockets and talking to some businessmen that you were sure had enough money to buy an island on a random day because the city was too noisy for their liking. Also, the important thing here was that 'he' didn't even know the groom and wasn't that close to your friend to be invited to her wedding. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your palms were sweaty. Your only choice was getting out of here without him noticing you. Luckily, the bride was close to you, so you could just say goodbye to her and make up a story to leave early.
You exchange greetings with the bride and groom and try to keep the conversation as short as possible. The groom asks you if you like the place or not. So absentmindedly, you say yes, and the words coming out of his mouth make you lose your composure completely.
"Man, Dostoevsky surely has good taste. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be able-"
The bride squeezes his arm and tells him to shut up. "W-what?" Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth after hearing his words.
But your friend just laughs nervously and tries to change the topic and starts to ask you questions about whether the cake is to your liking or not and other things that you can't comprehend at the moment. So you just murmur a short "goodbye" to both and start to walk away as if you didn't hear 'his' name coming out of the groom's mouth just a second ago. Your steps become faster as the seconds pass. With a still half-empty champagne glass you still hold in your hand that you forgot to put away, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your high heels in the corridor that led to the elevator.
Seeing him at the wedding completely caught you off guard. What was he doing in a place like that? Also, when did he become that close to the groom to the extent that he helped him to afford a place this expensive? He wasn't the type to help someone he'd just met.
Oh......That sly man..... he knew you would come to this place so he could tease you until the end. Yes, that must be it, or you were just overreacting and he didn't care about you. Well, thinking about the latter made your heart swell. While thinking about these things, your fingertip met the buttons on the corridor for the elevator.
After pressing it, your fingers brushed against the skin on your neck and began to scratch it. It was an old habit of yours that you hated because it would give away the fact that you were anxious. Most of the time, you would make your skin bleed and hurt for weeks. To avoid this, you pressed the button again, as if pressing it repeatedly would make the elevator move faster. The sounds of the raindrops, the faint noises of the people, and the music could still be heard from the place that you were standing. That stupid glass of champagne was still in your hand.
The feeling to facepalm yourself was quite strong, but the sound of the elevator's door opening prevented that from happening. You entered quickly, pressed the button, and waited for the door to close inch by inch. The relief of being able to go home was spreading through your whole body. But— when the sliding door of the elevator was just about to close completely, a hand stopped that from happening. You held your breath because last-minute interruptions never signaled anything good for you—it was what you believed at least. The sliding door of the elevator revealed the person you wanted to see the last—it was none other than Fyodor.
He was there standing, one hand in his pocket, the other hand pushing the door of the elevator further to reveal your shocked figure. When your eyes met, your heart stopped, your breath hitched, and he was just standing, looking at you like he was devouring you, devouring your presence. None of you talked for a few seconds, and the only thing heard was a distant thunder in the background. Then he opened his mouth:
"Good evening, my dear. Running off when it is raining this much and with a drink in your hand is such a pleasant sight to see."
Yes, you could die from embarrassment right this moment. Not just you failed to run away but also looked stupid.
"Mr. Dostoevsky, good evening to you too. But I'm in a hurry, so—"
He raised one of his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly in amusement.
"Well, surely I can see that you are in a hurry. But dear, I don't quite understand the reason why."
Oh, how he liked to ask questions that he knew its answers to. He knew exactly why, but teasing you was much fun for him. Again, you weren't making eye contact with him and now playing with the hem of your dress to distract yourself from the fact that you were again, fell right into his plan. So you just turn your head to the side to avoid his question and give him the impression that he never asked you anything in the first place. Now his patience was running quite low. He spoiled you a lot didn't he? There is awkward silence that you can't stand, so you try to look at him from the corner of your eye without him noticing.
But when you do so, he is already staring at you with his deep purple eyes. His hand finds your chin in a quick but gentle touch and turns your head, so now your eyes are directly looking into his.
"My, my, you are not thinking of leaving when it is raining this much and it is also a shame that roads are closed too."
He steps into the elevator and casually presses a button inside. So now you are alone with him in the elevator and incredibly close to each other. Your plan failed with the doors of the elevator closing behind him.
"W-what are you doing?"
A chuckle leaves his lips as if you said something funny. His hand moves away from your chin as he steps aside; his warmth is now gone.
"Well, you are not planning to stay outside in this weather? Am I correct? There are rooms available for guests to stay the night. Aren't they very thoughtful? So I'm taking you to one, to rest for the night."
Oh, you weren't a step behind but several. But you were so sick, sick of all of this. His teasing and plans were too much for you to handle at this moment. Letting your emotions take the lead wasn't a wise decision; you were trying so hard not to. Elevator's door open and he steps outside and waits for you to come to his side, but you don't and stand on your heels. He was not going to let you get soaked and sick in this weather, or do something careless given your emotional state, so he takes your hand into his, even though he is only wrapping his hand around yours, and takes you to the so-called 'guest's room'. No words come through your mouth while your mind is screaming. You start to scratch your neck again. You want to hurt him, scream at him, and make him understand your feelings when he looks this comfortable. Your eyes start to fill with tears from frustration.
When he lets go of your hand and opens the door for you with a card that he's taken out of his pocket.
"My dearest, I wish you goodnight."
He takes that stupid champagne from you, and the things he makes leave you confused. He wraps his hand around your wrist that is scratching your skin and removes your gloves in a calm manner and puts them inside his pocket. Now, without your gloves that completed your outfit, you feel a little cold and a little bit vulnerable. He leans in slightly, taking your hand to his lips and kissing it before lifting his head and meeting your gaze. When your teary eyes meet his possessive ones, a chill runs down your spine. He squeezes your hand lightly.
Shit, even like that, he wants to ruin you. but fuck your eyes sparkling with tears just because of him makes him want to eat you whole so that nobody but only him could see you. That bastards who don't know their places putting their hands on yours so carelessly boils him with rage. They all should know that you only belong to him. So he continues to plant kisses on your hand, and now to your wrist. He sucks into your skin and licks it after to ease its pain so deliciously that it leaves you confused.
You don't understand why he is doing all of this. His soulless eyes, filled with darkness, only stare into yours as you free your hand from his. He turns and walks away, leaving you on the edge of the door. He is going to throw away those gloves that those filthy sinners' lips touched. He is beyond annoyed; no, he is going to burn those gloves first, then those foolish men later. Perhaps after that he will be satisfied. Your heart and mind were racing and your lips open to say the words that was going to make Fyodor stop in his tracks.
"Fyodor, I hope that my absence eats you whole."
He stops from thinking what to do to these men to comprehend your words. You wanted to hurt him, hurt his pride, and show him his own vulnerability. Well, actually, you did that. He wasn't planning to turn in his tracks according to his plan. But fuck, somehow when you were involved in his plans, they always seemed to crumble. A sound to show his dissatisfaction left his lips. He was just going to plant the seeds in your head to get you to come back. Then his plan would proceed. You're really something else.
He drank the remaining champagne in his hand in one sip, and his eyes staring to one point left to meet your back that was now turned to him. You were going inside the room in slow motion. His quick steps towards you and your quiet sobs were the only thing that could be heard beside the rain outside. With force now you were now inside the room and the door was closed shut behind you, but the shocking part was a sound of thud next to the console table and couple arms embracing you. His hand was encircling your waist and pressing your body into his further, not letting you go from his grasp.
His one hand now going upwards while caressing where he could reach, he held your chin and lifted it to meet your face now that was wet with tears. Why he always had to look like a madman when you were around?
"You have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"
His tone was cold, so was his eyes. Now you looking up to him with your doe eyes and the hitching of your breath with your sobs was a sight to see. There was no way he could let another man see you like this. How could he? He would break any hand that could reach to you and make them drown in their own blood.
"My love..."
He tucked your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck to him. He lowered his head to your neck, breathed in your scent gently and pressed a kiss to your pulse.
"My heart..."
You could hear your heartbeat. He moved slowly towards your ear.
"Don't worry your pretty head over everything. I will get all of it figured out for you."
Like he wasn't the main cause of all of this. Was he asking for forgiveness now? A loud sob escaped your lips.
" 'm tired" of you
His hair touching the side of your face and his voice near your ear made you feel weak in your legs.
"I know"
He let go of your chin and held your wrist, guiding your arm as you turned your face to him. Now that your face was turned to him, he could take a look at you properly. He missed your warmth, your gentle demeanor, and you. His hand moved from your wrist to your hand, guiding it to his lips before kissing the palm of your hand. His other hand found your waist and pressed your lower body against his again. Your free hand gripped the front of his suit. Your sobs are now louder. He was waiting, waiting for a hint for your forgiveness and acceptance. He wasn't going to force himself onto you; he wasn't a sinful man like that.
"If you allow me, my love, I will make it all work between us."
You were shocked and speechless. Was he really asking you to accept him back into your life? It was still raining outside; the room was nothing but ordinary—a king-sized bed with breathtaking scenery outside.
"Don't you see, sweetheart? All of it was just for you today. Put your trust in me once more, as you always do, and don't think anything else."
You knew better than anyone else that whenever he talked and promised something to you he would always kept them because well, you are his little sweetheart. Aren't you?
"You are still in my heart and always on my mind. You are no good for me. I know that too, but why I can't just let all of it go—"
With a swift motion, Fyodor leads you inside and toward the wall by releasing his grip on your wrist and putting his other hand behind your back to quickly wrap around your waist. He pressed your back completely to the wall while pressing his whole body into yours. And he kissed you feverishly, rough with a sense of claiming. Your head was spinning. He kissed, sucked, and bit your lower lip. It felt so good that you were falling apart under his touch. So you held him like your life depended on him, you held his neck, deepened the kiss, and leaned to him more with desperation.
You were running out of breath but couldn't stop kissing him. You returned his kiss with the same desire. You could feel heat building up in your stomach. A moan vibrated through your throat. His palm found the back of your thigh, grasped it, and lifted it to press further into you as he slowly rubbed his groin into yours. A groan escaped his lips. His hand rose higher and higher until it reached the hem of your dress and up to the curve of your ass and caressed, squeezed it with force. When you two pull away from each other, there was a string of saliva connecting you two. His body felt warm against yours.
He was going to make up to you in every way possible. He was going to worship your body tonight, just as he did every day when he got down on his knees to pray to God. You looked stunning like that, his angel, your hair a little tangled, your eyes hazy and filled with desire. Your lips briefly connected again, and he encouraged you to part them so that his tongue could enter and explore your mouth. Not feeling his skin under your touch was unbearable, so you started to loosen his tie and pull him more while your other hand tried to unbutton his vest and shirt. He smirked against your lips before parting for a second.
"Eager, are we?"
You blushed and glanced away from him just to meet his eyes a second later while slightly nodding.
"Mmph"
Fyodor cursed quietly in his native language. You were just so his and obedient it made his dick twitch in his pants. He pecked your lips again and began sucking on the skin of your neck, opening the zip in the back of your dress and causing it to fall to the floor. You wrapped your hand around his neck and massaged his head while breathing deeply. Quiet moans escaped your lips and it only made the bulge in his pants bigger.
His lips on your neck leaving marks, an evident sign that you were his, and licking just to bite after to make you whimper was delightful to his ears. Fyodor began to lead you to bed, holding you impossibly close to his body. The back of your leg hit the edge of the bed, and he laid you gently on it, his eyes dark with a glint of lust, he was nearly fully clothed, he looked at you with pure hunger while you were only in your underwear and bra.
"Myshka, you only wore that dress just to drive me mad with temptation, didn't you? Oh darling, even when you are not aware of it, your mind desires to please me."
That dress was his anniversary present to you; you never got to wear it, though, due to circumstances you don't want to remember right now. Maybe you picked that dress unknowingly or maybe on purpose. Who knows? He began unbuttoning the remaining buttons while looking down at you. Your panties were getting wetter by the second under his gaze.
"So now tell me."
He slowly took off his vent and tossed it aside while maintaining eye contact.
"Did any man lay their hands on you while you weren't by my side?"
He was teasing you; you knew it, and he knew it well too. You couldn't just let any man touch you, no.
"Took of your bra."
So your hands moved to your back to remove your bra. He was staring at you intensely, his hands on the sides of your thighs, stroking them gently. When you took it off, he let out a pleasant hum. When your hands reached the ends of your panties, he stopped you with his voice.
"Keep them on, darling."
Fyodor began to unbutton his shirt and tossed it aside. His pale, lean, yet muscular skin was visible. The bulge in his pants is evident to your eyes. He leaned in while putting his body between your legs, parting them further.
"My eyes are up here pretty."
He loved teasing you and making you a blushing mess.
"Now tell me, did they touch you here?"
He kissed your clavicle tenderly and bit just to get a reaction out of you. A gasp escaped you.
"N-no" He licked it and continued to leave kisses alongside your breast, just to stop and look into your needy eyes once again. He leaned in and bit your earlobe before whispering into your ear.
"How about here?"
His hand cupped your breast and gave it a light squeeze. A sigh escaped you.
"N-never"
A hum vibrated through your ear.
"Yeah, just like that, keep being my good girl."
He leaned to take your nipple inside his mouth and giving it a light suck, his hot tongue was sucking the bud while playing with your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers to not neglect it.
He left marks there too. Your moans grew louder; your hand grabbed and tugged his dark hair, earning a growl from him. He continued kissing your skin down to your belly, your back arching into his touch. Your underwear was damp with your wetness, and your pussy was aching with the desire to be filled. Fyodor kept you steady with his hands to stop you from closing your legs against his body.
"Myshka, behave" It was impossible since it had been so long since you felt this way.
"'M sorry."
He lowered himself to lick a long strand of your clothed heatness. Your breathing quickened, and your hand closed your mouth to muffle your moans.
Fyodor looked up to you and sucked the fabric and started to push his tongue against your clit earning more whines from you. God, you were beautiful and all his to ruin. He could feel your hole twitching and your panty getting soaked with your juices.
His hand found the hem of your panties and waited for you to look at him.
"Then what about here, darling?"
You were desperate and craving for him; your answer didn't disappoint him.
"N-no Fyodor, never!"
His name spilling out of your mouth so deliciously made his member twitch in anticipation. So before he took it off, he prevented you from closing your mouth by taking one of your hands into his.
Then he took it off in one smooth movement, your juices glistening, your hole twitching with want, he hummed and buried himself between your legs, licking and kissing your pussy with fever. His nose bumping against your clit made you moan loudly. His face between your heat, his tongue working skillfully to tease your nerve endings, his lips kissing and slurping your arousal with sinful noises were starting to get you to the edge. Your free hand gripped his hair to make him go faster.
"A-ahh"
His other hand, keeping you down, opened your thighs even more. Your sounds only made his pants tighter. Fyodor started to move faster; your taste only made him hungrier; his hand on your thigh now started to caress your walls to find the spot that made you see stars. He began stretching you by adding a second finger, while his tongue lapped at your wet folds. He stretched you with his fingers, and he couldn't help but let a moan escape. All sensations were becoming overwhelming, and Fyodor felt your walls clench around his fingers.
"M-mh n-nnagh F-Fyo I-I'm-"
He knew you were close, so he found the spot that made you weak, bent, and rubbed his fingers to stimulate it continuously. You pulled his hair harder and desperately tried to move your hips against his face with need. You heard him groan; he added another finger, and you were beyond gone, cumming andcrushing down while moaning loudly. Your body squirmed as he helped you ride out your orgasm. You felt dizzy and gasped for air as your juices dripped down his chin. The sight was filthy and hot at the same time. He gathered your juices in his fingers, sucked on them with lust, and looked deeply into your eyes. The sight caused you to moan again.
"You taste divine, my dear."
Then he started kissing you with the same lust, tasting yourself on his tongue made you squirm again. Your hands caressed his back and you kissed him back. He lowered his groin and pressed it into your wet pussy, making you whimper into his mouth while grinding his rock hard member against you. He placed his hands on your hips to make you grind against him harder, earning a muffled moan from you. The heat pooling in your stomach once again, making the front of his pants wet with your juices, you hear him moan into your lips. Fyodor moves away from you, his belt clinking. He looks at you like he's about to devour you whole.
So you accept him once again. He takes his pants off alongside his boxers, revealing his cock, his tip dripping with precum. First, he makes you comfortable on the bed and puts your legs to his sides, revealing your pussy to him more, his behavior turning you on more and more. Your sight sends shivers down his spine, and he has to restrain himself from taking you right here and there. Your sweaty form, lustful eyes, and eagerness are only fueling the fire. He pulls you closer to him, making your legs wrap around his waist. He strokes himself a few times before looking back at you. Your walls are clenching around nothing and feeling empty.
He uses his tip to gather around your fluids to lubricate his dick then slowly circling your entrance with it while pulling cute noises from you.
"F-fyodor, please don't tease me anymore."
He chuckles coldly.
"What happened to Oh, Mr. Dostoevsky, hmm?"
He slowly pushes himself. A gasp leaves you, your walls sucking him in for more, leaving Fyodor nearly breathless, he growls.
"Mmph- Aah-ah—that—you know why."
He's halfway through, and your warmth is already intoxicating.
"Well do I?"
He was not foolish or sinful like those around him. He had a greater purpose. But now he was kneeling and worshipping your body. Maybe loving someone only led to sin in the best ways possible. You couldn't let him go; you know it is toxic. But damnit, he lets it happen. He spoiled you too much, didn't he? Now he can't predict anything—any emotions, to be precise. These are his feelings, but he is unable to understand or rationalize them. It irritates him if he can't control it or twist it to his liking. Oh, God, help his pure soul. He pushes himself all the way in one go, taking you by surprise with a whimper. Leaning down into you, he pushes you down into missionary, his elbows on the sides of your head, slowly pulling his cock in and out of you as your moans got louder.
He is in no better shape, but he was trying not to show it while gasping for air. Your gummy walls squeezing him tight and already milking him, your whines close to his ear making it hard for him to keep his composure. He starts moving faster, hitting your G spot along the way. Your hands on his back, scratching his pale skin, and your legs pulling him closer only feeding his possession more. He gazes into your eyes, thrusting faster and rougher. Your eyes were cloudy just like the weather and now they were tearing up, but this time with pleasure. You look back at him, your resentful eyes only turning him on more.
Oh, how he loves those eyes of yours. Picking up the pace, he leans in and puts more weight on you. While panting for more air, he thrusts one more time and places his lips near your chin and whispers:
"Myshka isn't my side of the bed cold? Don't you want me to come back to you?"
Your legs tightening and trembling around him, you couldn't see his face but only could hear the squelching sounds from where you two were connected and your moans with the sound of rain. A white ring was forming in the base of his cock while you were meeting his thrust feverently. As he sinks deeper into you, you could feel your climax approaching. Your mind clouded with pleasure, you answer him.
"Fuck Fedya, yes!"
Yes, yes, yes, call him like that again and fuck yes, he will destroy the world if you want. Yes, he will buy you a house fuck even with the one with a lake. Then again, he will fuck you as much as you want him to. Who exactly is he fooling? He is yours eternally, just as you are his for a lifetime. God must have been playing games with his mind. Oh, your eyes and how they look under the moonlight. Oh, how he likes it even more when they get all shimmery with tears all because of him. Since he is the only one who can bring heaven to you with such pleasure. All his, all fucking his.
That nickname, his name, coming out of your mouth only makes his dick harder and balls tighter. Chasing his own high with you, he speeds up and places his thumb on your clit, playing with it to push you over the edge. Thick tears making their way down to your face to his hair. He raises his head and with his thick Russian accent, he curses between his teeth once again.
"I gave you what you have wanted, didn't I, darling? So why are you crying right now? How petty."
Such simple and heartbreaking words coming out of his mouth as if he isn't the one who is actually acting petty. How laughable isn't it? But he can't let you see him this vulnerable. The knot in your lower belly threatening to snap anytime makes you desperate for your own release.
"You gotta use your words, pretty."
"I-I'm- aghhh- I'm coming."
Your toes curling, juices drenching the sheets, holding him close with your legs, your climax washes over your body once again. Your gummy walls clamping down on his shaft and welcoming him once more. He groans and pushes you into the mating press and chases his own high. He captures your lips once again and gives you a deep but sloppy kiss while pushing your legs more apart. If he fucks a baby into you, you wouldn't try to run away, right? Since you would carry the obvious sign that you belonged to him. So those trashy guys won't dare to lay their filthy hands on you ever again.
If they do, he will erase them from existence. He moans to your lips, the thought of you carrying his child, with full of his seed, pushing him over the edge as he thrusts again, spilling thick robs of cum inside you, his eyes rolling back. He pushes his dick deeper into you, ensuring that nothing goes to waste. You whimper and kiss him back as tears fall once more, this time from overstimulation. When he recovers from his high, he pulls his dick out and rolls to the side.
Gently pulling you into a hug to his chest, facing him, you hug him back and kiss his Adam's apple softly. You felt tired and sleepy; for a few minutes, you two just stayed like that.
"So Mrs. Dostoevsky want me to draw a warm bath for you?"
You were flushed and slowly drifting off to sleep. The only thing you could mutter was a quiet "mmhm" and a slight tilt of your head.
Rain was still hitting the windows, as if it was trying to sing you a lullaby. The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a faint chuckle, followed by a couple of arms wrapping around your body, enveloping you in a familiar warmth.
Well, you were gonna come back to him one way or another. He knew that; he was sure of it, of course, since he is smart, right? When you come back to him and accept his vulnerability, once again he will let it happen because you are his. He can't predict what will happen in the future with you because God must have created such a bond that even after everything, you are still drawn to him, and he will always accept his pure girl to his hell and cherish ruin his angel. He can't create heaven nor go to one, but he will do everything to bring one to you.
But now Fyodor wasn't sleeping, but rather watching how your little body was wrapped around his—all vulnerable and untainted—to his liking, of course. He squeezed your body slightly in a possessive manner, pressing his body deeper into yours. He will make all the ways back to him for you. He was going to make it happen. So you could return to him. Because you're his innocent wife. How foolish of you to believe that a simple piece of paper could end your relationship with him. He was certain that God created you specifically for him to hold, caress, and breed. Everything happened only so you could return to where you belong, as God intended.
A few disagreements aren't the problem when you are in his arms like this, being all beautiful and innocent. How pure and filthy, how separating and unifying. Even God had his favorites, so it is normal that you also have a little privilege for yourself. How magnificent, right?
Because you are still his, and always will be. He will make sure of it.
Taglist: @sssarrrra @fyology @literatureloverx
So just for you guys to know I’ve never touched a man in my life. I didn't even feel anything romantic towards someone but here I am writing fanfiction about a death author dude who is probably +500 years old in an anime and I'm calling him bbg and the love of my life. Huh 😮💨 life is really full of surprises. It was my first time writing smut so please be nice I tried my best okay? 🥺🙏 Also English is not my first language so if there are any grammatical mistakes forgive this pookie (me🥺). Hope you like it tho. Comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated 💜
#fyodor bsd#bsd fyodor#bsd smut#bsd fyodor x reader#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor x you#bsd x reader#hurt/comfort#bsd x you#fyodor dostoevsky x reader#fyodor smut#fyodor dostoyevsky smut#fyodor bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs fyodor#bungou stray dogs smut#bungou stray dogs x reader#bungou stray dogs x you
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I've been thinking about Mickbell since last chapter came out.
Have you noticed how everyone refers to him as Mick? He's a hafling, they shouldn't call him that since its his first name.
But here's the thing.
We know Mickbell didn't have something to call a family the majority of his life. He was all alone against the word for quite some time. He, as I said before, didn't have a proper family, didn't have any friends. He was alone. No one to care about him, no one to love even in a friendly way.
He can seem to be quite unfair towards Kuro, but truth is he doesn't know any better. He does what he can the best he can, the best he knows, because he loves Kuro so much, he doesn't want to loose his first friend, his first glimpse of a family, the only one that cared for him after so long the first one to recognize him as someone rather than something.
Kuro doesn't understand common language well, we know for a fact that he struggles with it and that he's still learning to communicate. When Mickbell found him, it was his sense of "I'm in great debt to him because he saved me" what made him attack the one that attacked Mick. "How dares he tuch my savior?" Kind of behaviour. And also revenge I guess. But, hear me out. He hears Mickbell telling something to him in a language he doesn't understand, but he sticks to his side from then on, because he saw a savior in him. Because he feels in debt with him, because he sees that this guy enjoys his company and also feeds him. He is like a stray dog after being adopted, loyal. He loves and cares for Mickbell, he wants to be able to truly understand him and to make himself known to him by talking. He's learning how to speak common, not because it might be useful, but because he wants to be able to fully communicate with his dearest friend, with the one he considers family.
Going back to Mickbell, he saw someone caring for him enough to take revenge and protect him. This aren't little things to do for someone you just met. He knows this, because he probably wouldn't have done that, he 100% would've runned away because he has sense of self-preservation and knows damn well he doesn't stand a chance and he wants to continue living. He makes sure to keep this kobold to himself, at first because of his "if it can be made use of, then use it" principle.
He freed the kobold, not because he was a good person, but because he wanted to take revenge in his own terms. He wanted this man to suffer, he can't pick a fight because he doesn't stand a chance, so he steels his merch, or in this case, frees it. He freed Kuro because he wanted the man to suffer the loss of his merch. Not because he feels sorry for a kobold that could easily chomp his head off (they're usually agressive). Now, after freeing him, he noticed that this kobold would die if he didn't take off the thing he had in his mouth, so he helped him a bit there. This seems a bit out of character. Why did he freed the starved kobold from what could've saved him of being eaten himself? Because he is a good person. He doesn't want this creature to starve to death after freeing him, it would be cruel, and he isn't cruel. He doesn't want nothing to do with the kobold at first, he just doesnt want him to die because he didnt properly freed him, but after seeing how far is this someone willing to go for him? He has no room for doubt, he makes himself his boss.
As I said, Mickbell didn't had a real family before. He lacks of proper social interactions and bonds due to his past. But he loves so deeply. He doesn't want to loose Kuro. He sees him as the closest thing he'll ever have to a family, but he doesn't know how to treat him properly. He tries his best. He feeds him, and cares about him a lot, but he doesn't know how to talk to him. He wants to have him close at all times, he wants to pet him, to be carried around by him and only him, to tease him, to help him. He's always worrying about his well-being. And above all, he doesn't want to be alone. Never again. This is why he does everything he can think of to hold Kuro closer to him. This is why he's saving money, why he pays Kuro so poorly for his job. This is why he doesn't spent much money on himself either. He wants to live a life with kuro by his side because he loves him. He loves him deeply, and cares about him deeply too. He's his family. And he is terrified of the sole thought of Kuro leaving his side. Because that wouldn't just mean being alone again. It would mean Kuro left.
Now, this is what the party sees. A hafling that treats his kobold employee quite unfairly. He doesn't pay him almost anything, he leaves him alone as soon as battle starts, he is possessive about him, and he's terrified of someone snatching him away. The kobold doesn't seem to either mind or notice how unfair his owner is being towards him, and doesn't seem to understand him very well either. They see that they both care for each other more than they first thought as time passes by, but the unfairness of it all is still there. They don't get it. Why would the hafling, if he cares so much, reward him so badly? Why is he taking advantage of the kobold he loves so much? Why wouldn't he let him express himself in his mother language? They don't fully get it.
Time passes and they become closer to each other, just as Laios's party does. They start opening up, bonding, and before they knew it, they're something like a small family, rather than just a group of friends adventuring together. It's clear as day something in Mickbell wasn't quite right just by the way he behaves. He is childish, but it doesn't seem to be intentional. He behaves like a kid, but he is quite mature at the same time. He is like this because he didn't had a proper childhood? He only now can allow himself to behave lightly as he does? To cry at minor inconveniences? To want to be hold on someone's arms? They don't know, but they don't prey about it either.
And without realizing it, they call him just "Mick". Some of them, if not them all, know what it means to call a hafling by his first name. They maybe did it to tease him, maybe because they wanted him to know they consider him family, but he didn't even noticed. He hadn't a proper social interaction with haflings that ever got to the personal level of teaching him something he should already know. Haflings call him Mickbell, he doesn't mind, it's his name. His party calls him Mick, he doesn't mind, it's his name. He doesn't even know hee should care. The party picks up he doesn't mind being called that and gets surprised. Is he letting them know he sees them aa family too? They at first are really surprised, but it losses importance over time. They just use it as a nickname now, but they started using it because they wanted Mickbell to know they're family too, that they don't want to hurt him nor Kuro.
Mickbell it's just a good hearted guy who doesn't know how to do good. He saves up money so he can, one day, live with Kuro. So he doesn't pays him well even if he works hard. So he starves himself (he is underweight too, but it could be for the same reason Chilchuck is, he is 5 cms taller than the common hafling after all). So he allows himself to steal from corpses. He needs money. He has a dream. He wants to have a family.
#HEAR ME OUT#MICKBELL IS A GREATLY MISUNDERSTOOD CHARACTER#HE SURE IS A DICK BUT HE HAS REASONS#HE HAS A PAST OVER HIS SHOULDERS#he has family issues he projects onto Kuro and this is why he always asks to be carried like a kid#either that or hes just silly#he lacks a father figure#and a mother#lol#please#PLEASE#love him#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#dungeon meshi spoilers#kabru of utaya#kabru#holm#holm kranom#daya#daya dungeon meshi#kuro dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi holm#dungeon meshi kabru#kuro#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi mickbell#my shit
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For me, the most heartbreaking aspect of Ivan is that the poor clueless bastard didn't have the tools to express his affection in any way that didn't involve violence or manipulation, or weren't too inscrutable, quiet, or unseen to be picked up by Till.
I definitely interpret Ivan as autistic for several reasons, a big one being their Segyein teacher's notes about him:
It's just. Classic ND behaviour to me.
Not only does expressing emotion and communicating the way other kids do not come naturally to Ivan, but it's not as if he's been given a great example of coping with this from the Segyein.
Ivan managed to mask in a way that made him popular with other students, and got him in the good graces of their captors. He did everything expected of him to survive and thrive in this environment.
Then he meets Till, inscrutable and very different to the other kids, just like Ivan is. Except, Till doesn't mask. He doesn't change or try to endear himself to their captors, and he doesn't bend to anyone, no matter how much he is hurt and punished for it.
This is a new situation for Ivan, and he's never had anything to compare his feelings to. He also can't figure out how to communicate with Till, every interaction, no matter how well meaning, seems to end in failure.
I bring your attention to the cheer up comic, and how, again, autistic this interaction feels:
There could be many reasons why Ivan chose to say what he did, but to me it feels like ND bluntness not being received well. And that's fair! From Till's perspective Ivan is being a jerk for no good reason.
Instead of responding with glee towards Till laying him out (as we see from Ivan when they're a bit older), Ivan justs seems... really confused. Like he didn't expect that statement to upset Till that much, and he didn't expect Till to respond in the way he did. Everything was fine a second ago, what went wrong?
Then, Ivan uses the phrase he learned from Till in an attempt to self sooth. It might have been the first example of comfort after an injury/hurt he had ever seen, given how he defaults to it. And it was from Till trying to cheer up a flower.
This also shows some of Till's blindspots. He has grown up having to be vigilant, because violence and hurt have been a core part of his upbringing. This leads to anything he doesn't immediately, clearly understand being perceived as a threat or a slight, and so he reacts violently to Ivan's statement.
I'll also draw your attention to this comic where, as far as we know, Ivan is simply stating a true fact in a blunt manner:
In my interpretation, these types of interactions keep adding up, and Ivan is grasping at straws the whole time, trying to be closer to Till and failing every time.
Eventually, the only surefire way to get Till's attention is to piss him off, provoke him, manufacture scenarios to talk to him. I'm not excusing this behaviour, but I understand where Ivan could be coming from, from the perspective of both an emotionally immature/stunted child and/or an ND child.
Despite how much they fight and bicker, at every moment it really mattered, Ivan was there for Till. It was always Ivan coming to free him, to take off his collar or gag, and it was Ivan who led their escape.
Ivan couldn't leave Till behind when he went back for Mizi. Even with the confirmation that Till would choose Mizi over Ivan every time, Ivan couldn't leave him.
The miscommunication goes two ways though. It's insane to think that Till didn't care about Ivan at all. They were close as kids, and I doubt Till ever forgot about the escape he gave up.
We have the graduation messages, where Ivan is able to write something that could be reasonably interpreted as affectionate or fond towards Till.
Meanwhile, Till's message-
If we're being charitable with our interpretations, we can say this was Till's way of saying 'of course I remember you' and attempting to communicate that Ivan HAD left a lasting impact on him.
However, how could any reasonable person be expected to get THAT out of 'you stole my fucking pencil'? Ivan could have taken this one of two ways:
1) Omg he remembers me 🥰
2) he leans into his 'i will never be loved back' bias and thinks that Till really doesn't care about him at all
Who the hell knows what goes through that weird little brain of his. But given how Round 6 went, and what Ivan had to say in the confession comic, he obviously didn't think his impact was significant enough.
Then Alien Stage happens, and in Round 3 Ivan is FINALLY communicating his feelings in a way that is vulnerable and might even have a chance of being understood as love and yearning!
Till is unconscious through it until the very end.
Then in the next round, Mizi goes missing, and Till can't care about anything anymore.
Ivan finds him after the private performance, takes off his gag, and just holds him. Again, Till is unconscious for all of this.
Then, in Round 6, not only is Till distraught from the disappearance of Mizi, but he's given no time to process what the fuck is going on before Ivan is dead at his feet. Till might have finally had a chance to really understand where Ivan was coming from, how he really felt all this time, and Ivan DIES.
And still, Ivan's most transparent act of affection? It's delivered with violence. He's kissing a distraught Till who tries to push him away, and neither of them are happy. He puts his hands around Till's neck, not really hurting him, but it's enough to look convincing for the cameras, and it's enough for Till to go limp and wait for death. Ivan's final loving act is to give Till a soft look with blood pouring out of his mouth, that Till still does not see, and then let go before falling to the ground.
It's just a collection of failures. We see from Ivan that he truly loved Till, made a lot of selfless decisions for his sake, was filled with so much longing and affection, but he just couldn't get it across in a way that doesn't seem fucking deranged from an outsider's perspective. And when he DID manage to communicate his feelings more clearly, it was to a Till that was unconscious, or too distracted/dense/traumatised to see Ivan's actions as ones of love.
There's no guarantee that Till would have reciprocated even if Ivan had managed to communicate his feelings in a healthier way, but there was at least a CHANCE. At least Ivan could have gotten some closure, even if he was rejected.
Instead Ivan died thinking he was completely unloved by the person who he cared about more than anything else, and his last ditch effort to make Till understand was deeply flawed and uncomfortable.
If these kids had grown up any other way, maybe they could have had a chance. Unfortunately, the world they were in didn't equip them to not hurt eachother in their attempts to grow closer.
#alien stage#alien stage ivan#alien stage till#alnst#alnst ivan#alnst till#ivantill#tillivan#alien stage round 6#if you saw me edit this a bunch of times trying to link the masterdoc post no you didnt
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For the James smut asks, I wouldn't mind your list of what kinks you think he has
Heck yeah nonnie, I sure can do that!
Warnings: smut, impact play, a bit of unhealthy sexual behaviours
James Sunderland kinks headcanons:
Praise/Humiliation kink: to you, he’s always willing to show you and himself how good of a partner he can be. He’s attentive, gentle and constantly praises and compliments you in the moment: how good you’re making him feel, how great you’re taking it or how fucking ready he’s to do anything you want. For him, he’ll enjoy either. Taking a slap hearing how pathetic he is for oozing pre-cum for you when you barely touched him? Heck yeah. Hearing gentle murmurs calling him “good boy” and how good he fucks you? He’s the happiest man.
Talking about slapping him - he will like impact play He asks for you to do that at one point and if you’re on board - he’ll ask for you to do that from time to time when he’s in the mood. Slapping across the cheek, or tugging his head by the hair. He’d be into that at times, his feelings of guilt and self-hatred never leaving for good. I believe he’ll also be not very knowledgeable about proper BDSM rules, so learning how to do stuff ethically will be on you, unfortunately. It will never delve into something very deep, so just mutual agreement before doing some things, or him asking to do something explicitly + safe word would do. I don’t think his habits would be very healthy tbh though. I don’t think he’d ever want to be rough with you in return. Though, if you’d ask him to spank your butt - he’d do that and enjoy it.
One thing that is also crossing borders with his tendencies is edge play. He’ll be a pathetic whimpering mess after a few times you deny him his orgasm. I don’t think he’ll be able to last for long, but a few rounds is something he could do. He’ll beg for you and cry when you stop and force him to wait yet again, yet he’s enjoying every second of it and the way the orgasm feels when you allow him to reach his peak at last. It’s the mix of emotional impact and the way it physically feels for him. With you he tried an edge play a few times - but you’re so pliant and sweet, that he cannot stop himself in time and with light chuckle he decides to just give you few orgasms instead.
#lion replies#lion thots#James Sunderland x you#James Sunderland x reader#James Sunderland smut#James Sunderland headcanons#silent hill headcanons#silent hill smut
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NSFW Prompt Requests - I’m in dyer need of 127 or 150 if you’d be so kind?🥵
A/N: I feel like I say "I got a bit carried away" in every single one of these authors notes, but this one I think I really did...
Word Count: 3k
#127: "I can taste myself on you."
#150: "Stop clenching, baby, you're already tight enough as it is."
Summary: You're hot for teacher. So is every other girl on campus. Your Professor, however, is absolutely oblivious until you spell it out for him...
Warnings: Professor x Student, age gap, oral (M receiving), face-fucking, no birth control/ condoms, creampie, male whimpering and moaning mentioned a lot, PinV sex, both of them are Switches idc idc 18+ MINORS DNI
Check out my other stuff on my masterlist!
You had been in his class for around three weeks when you decided you couldn’t take it anymore. If you were going to keep up your GPA and progress in your grad programme, you were going to have to either drop the class with Professor Reid, or persuade him to put you out of your misery.
You’d been intrigued by the course to start with, of course, which is why you’d picked up the criminology elective when it wasn’t a required class. But it was only available this semester as he was only Guest Lecturing while on leave from his job at the BAU, and getting that kind of insight from an actual industry professional rather than an academic really couldn’t hurt, right? You’d thought that until you’d seen him.
Expecting some older man with a stuffy tone and a disdain for modern technology, you’d been roughly awoken when he walked into the lecture hall on the first day and you found yourself hanging on to his every word as he read through your syllabus. You were spot on with the technophobia, but for everything else, you were blissfully incorrect. He was, quite possibly, the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life. You weren’t secretive about your thing for older men, joking all the time about your “daddy kink,” but you’d never had a thing for one of your actual professors before, and it was driving you insane.
It didn’t help that the word had travelled around the entirety of your campus as well, with multiple girls turning up to audit the class after the first week. You’d been green with envy since you’d seen them mooning over the man, and you’d felt disgusted with yourself almost instantly. He was your professor, he was damn good at his job, but he was so deliciously tempting that you couldn’t find it within yourself to actually pay attention in his classes. You knew it was only a matter of time until the man, who you realised was obviously blind to how attractive he was to a bunch of twenty-somethings with a penchant for danger and a willingness to try all kinds of new things, would catch on to how many of his students were openly lusting for him.
You hoped that you had learned enough in his classes on behaviour that you could accurately hide your feelings and thoughts, however sinful and objectively obvious they were. Your hopes were crushed on that fateful day three weeks into the semester.
You’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed already. Your alarm hadn’t gone off, your clothes were all still wet inside the washing machine in your apartment meaning you had to throw on a short skirt and pray you didn't flash anyone, and your roommate hadn’t closed the fridge properly the night before, so the milk you wanted to use in your morning coffee had spoilt. After dragging yourself into class, the last thing you’d wanted to see was twice as many students auditing the class as the previous week.
To give it to the man’s obliviousness, he hadn’t noticed until about two thirds of the way into the class, when he asked a student why they weren’t taking notes. He’d seemed confused. You were almost furious that he didn’t know what effect he was having on you, on every girl in the vicinity, but, more importantly, you. Unable to help yourself, you let out a scoff that gained his attention.
“Is there something wrong with the class materials Miss…” he trailed off, waiting for you to supply your name to him.
“Oh, no, uh, Y/N. My name is Y/N, there’s nothing wrong, sir. I’m sorry.” His lips twitched as you replied, but he went on with his class, as you sunk into your chair in shame. You were going to have to drop the class now. He must hate you, or think you were stupid, or think that you hated him, and your thoughts were spiralling so out of control that you hadn’t noticed the class had ended, and he was calling up at you from the lecturing desk.
“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” He asked, and his goddamned eyes were filled with such concern you hated that every part of your body was screaming with desire for him. Unable to respond, he tried again.
“If you have the time, would you like to come talk to me in my office? I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” You should’ve said no, just based on the ridiculous scenes filling your mind, but you didn’t hesitate to nod your approval. You picked up your bags and made your way down the steps to where he was waiting with all of his stuff near the front door. He opened the door for you, and you felt your heart race as you awkwardly slid by him in the doorway. He had to be a fucking gentleman, too, right?
You followed him as he made his way to his office, staying silent the entire way. He looked like he wanted to make small talk but didn’t know how, choosing instead to just mirror your silence. When you reached his office, he apologised for the mess and showed you inside, letting you take a seat on the couch whilst he put all his things away. The room was littered with books of all sizes, and you noticed that the titles didn’t seem to have one common subject linking them all, or even, in fact, seem to be written in the same language. You spotted a beaten up copy of War and Peace on his desk next to an obviously used coffee mug, and some paper files that looked to be the reading from that morning’s class.
“Sorry, I didn’t exactly plan on having guests, uh, make yourself comfortable?” He asked it as a question, and loosened his tie as he said it. You stared at the small patch of skin on his neck, your eyes lingering just a moment too long before you remembered you were in a room with an actual FBI Profiler, and that if your thoughts were any louder, he’d handcuff you himself. As tempting as that was, you really didn’t want your Professor knowing about all the ways you’d imagined him fucking you.
“Professor Reid, I’m sorry, I have to leave, and- and I think I have to drop out of the class.” You stood up suddenly, and he stood up too from his place at his desk, shocked at your sudden anxious outburst.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, is there something wrong? Did I make you uncomfortable?” he asked taking a step closer to you, but you took a step back again, accidentally pressing your back against one of his many bookcases in your haste to avoid him.
“Yes! I mean no, it’s not your fault that I’m uncomfortable. I’m not uncomfortable, really!” He had the look of a kicked puppy on his face now, and you realised this man would be the death of you. You weren’t even sure what it was about him that entranced you enough to stay and continue the conversation.
“I can’t focus in your classes, Professor,” you sighed out, letting your eyes drop with the embarrassing confession.
“That’s perfectly fine, many people struggle to pay attention in college classes. Is there anything I can do in my lectures to accommodate to your needs?” Your eyebrows screwed up in frustration with his obvious professional kindness.
“No, Professor, I’m sorry, unless you stop looking like that there’s nothing you can do.” You ran a stressed hand through your hair as you begged your mouth to shut and stay shut.
“...What?” The confused tone in his voice let you know that he had no clue at all what you meant by your words, but he didn’t go further. You chanced a glance up at his face, and were met with a small blush rising to his cheeks, as you watched the words process in his brain.
“Professor, every single person in that class that is attracted to men would kill to do absolutely sinful things to you. You’re like the campus’s collective wet dream right now. You had to know that, right?” You sigh out, finally putting the man out of his misery.
“Oh. No. No, no, I didn’t. Know that, I mean, I didn’t…Is that why there are so many people auditing the class? They want to…. Do that with me?”
“Fuck you, Professor. They want to fuck you. You can say it, we’re both adults.” You resigned yourself to the fact that this conversation was probably going to haunt every waking hour for the rest of your life, and just let it happen, pushing through the cringe to help him come to certain realisations.
“And that’s why you want to drop the class?” he asked finally, looking back up at you.
“Yes.”
“Because you want to…fuck me?”
Your mouth dropped open at his words, as you desperately tried to back track, but all that came out was hot air and blubbering sounds as you felt your brain short circuit like his had just moments before.
“I mean… I guess,” you finally stuttered out, your fight or flight instinct begging you to just run, but something deeper, something carnal planting you in position and making movement in that moment impossible.
“Oh…. right.” He nodded at you, his lips spread in a thin smile as he nodded at you awkwardly. You stood there together in silence for a minute, but it became clear soon that the logical part of your brain was no longer in control of your mouth.
“Can I?” you asked, almost startled at your own boldness.
“Excuse me?” he said, his voice raising higher in tone at the incredulity of your statement.
“Can I fuck you? If I do, maybe I’ll be able to, you know, pay more attention in class. Get it out of my system, you know.” Growing emboldened by your own words, you took another hesitant step towards him, reaching your hand up to gently touch his arm. His jaw clenched at the contact, but he didn’t move away, didn’t suggest you stop right there and forget this conversation ever happened.
“Please, Professor Reid. Please fuck me,” you trailed the hand up his arm and back down his chest as he stood there just watching you beg for him. You discarded your bag on the chair, and keeping your eyes focused on his, trailed both of your hands down to his belt, slowly enough that he could push you away at anytime.
“Do you know what you’re doing, Miss Y/N?” He asked quietly, and you smiled, finally happy to get a reaction from him. The smile had dropped from his lips and there was something suddenly dark in his tone that had you clenching around nothing.
“Yes, Professor,” you said, letting your hands start working on his belt, undoing it agonisingly slowly as you watched him control his breaths. When you finally had it undone, you finally looked up at him again, and gave him a smile as innocent as you could muster.
“You have my permission,” he whispered into your ears as he gently put a hand on your head and pushed you down to your knees, perching himself on the edge of the desk. You wasted no time then, desperate to live out each and every single one of your fantasies with him. Reaching into his pants, you found him already hard and pulsing, and you released his cock from its confines quickly. Spitting into your hand, you gave him a few quick strokes as you watched him grow even bigger under your touch.
Letting out some sinful breathy moans, you looked up at him, head thrown back and eyes screwed shut as you finally reached your tongue out to lick at the tip of his cock. He twitched at the contact, and you felt the warmth pooling between your legs as you watched his each and every reaction. Finally wrapping your lips around him, you decided to put him out of his misery, sinking down on his dick an inch at a time until he was hitting the back of your throat. He was delightfully vocal the whole time, moaning and whimpering so much that you almost pulled off him completely and begged him to fuck you raw. But the taste of his cock was intoxicating and you wanted more and more of him. After a few minutes of your agonisingly slow pace, you felt his hips beginning to buck up to match your pace as he began to face-fuck you. He grabbed a handful of hair, and you did your best to relax your throat, stabilising yourself by placing one hand on his thigh and sinking deeper into your open hips on the floor.
His eyes were still screwed close, but he was moaning out your name now, with a few expletives thrown in too, having done a complete 180 from the few minutes earlier when he’d hesitated to even say the F word in conversation. You felt he was getting close when he started thrusting deeper, sloppier in his movements and more breathy in his moans. He suddenly pulled out of your mouth and lifted you to your feet, bringing you face to face with him.
“We didn’t… we didn’t say where I would, um…” he tried to say but you pushed up onto your toes and pressed a hot kiss to his mouth, your tongues quickly twinning as he returned it in kind. You stood there, lips locked and breathless in that space for quite some time, neither of you caring about the lack of oxygen you were getting. Finally, using the hand that was still fisted in your hair he pulled you away from his lips, and you whimpered pathetically at the loss of contact.
“I can taste myself on you,” he panted into your neck as he held you close, the words sending a shiver down your spine and forcing another moan out of your mouth. The pain from his tight grip in your hair only heightened your pleasure as he moved his lips back to your exposed neck and continued his ministrations.
“Please, professor….” you begged again, desperate for his attention. “Please fuck me.”
Without removing his lips from your neck, he quickly moved the two of you back to the couch you’d been sitting on before, guiding you into his lap, his cock still hard and free from his pants. Your skirt spread open, and your hard landing meant you could feel all of him pressed against you. You thanked the gods for your suddenly well-timed laundry efforts as he grabbed the base of his cock and started teasing you through your panties. You were sure they were soaked through as you sat in his lap, grinding down on his perfect cock, his mouth still pressed into your neck.
“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you moaned, and he complied, finally hooking a finger under the seam of your panties and moving them to the side as he pushed up into you with another throaty moan.
“Yes, thank you. Thank you Professor, thank you.” You moaned out in bliss as you sank further and further down on him, pushing further than any man had been. before.
“Stop clenching, baby, you’re already tight enough as it is,” he ground his teeth in a hiss, and you moaned at his words, the pervertedness of them shooting straight to your core.
“Can’t…help myself. You feel so good, sir.” He started moving then, holding your waist as he started lazily thrusting upwards. After having your mouth wrapped around him, he knew that too much too soon would mean that this wouldn’t last long, and you had begged him nicely, so he wanted this to feel as good for you as it did for him. Gripping one of your hips tightly in one hand, he let the other fall under your skirt, and started pressing into your clit. You threw back your head at the contact and started riding him, matching each of his upward thrusts with a downward thrust of your own, letting his thumb gain speed as it followed you up and down.
“Fuck, professor, thank you…I’m gonna cum, fuck, thank you so much,” you stuttered out as you could feel your orgasm rip through you, collapsing into his arms as he thrust quicker into you now.
“Y/N, where… where should I….” His voice trailed off, and after a few seconds regaining your sanity after your climax, you finally answered the question he’d been desperately trying to answer.
“Inside… Inside me, Professor Reid, it’s okay…” he whimpered at that, at each thrust he pushed into you, his head falling to the crook in your neck and your hands stroking the hair at the base of his neck as you clenched around him again, finally pulling the desire out of him. He came noisily, even with his face buried in you, moaning so delightfully you knew the sound would be your new distraction for the next three weeks.
When he finally regained his composure, he let his hands drop from your waist, his head rolled back on the couch, and you fell with him, wrapping yourself around him as if you never wanted this coupling to end. You stayed there, head resting on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, and drifted to sleep.
You awoke an hour later, but there was no sign of the Professor. He’d cleaned you up somehow, because there was no unpleasant feeling between your legs, and he’d wrapped a blanket around you as you slept, making sure you were comfortable. Collecting your things and making to leave, you almost convinced yourself that it had all been another fantasy, and that you were becoming seriously delusional about the man. As you approached the door, however, you spotted a small note taped to the handle, and quickly pulled it into your hands.
Miss Y/N,
Thank you for visiting me today. I hope you decide to stay in the class, I certainly could learn a thing or two from you.
- Spencer Reid.
P.S. You’re lucky I’m an MIT Graduate with a job in the FBI. There’s a security camera in my office.
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#criminal minds fanfiction#mgg#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid criminal minds#dr spencer reid#criminal minds fic#criminal minds smut#professor spencer reid
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Hey Bunny
Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader SMUT|10.7k words
MINORS DNI PLEASE
Hey everyone! Been a while since I’ve written a full coherent fic LMAO and here I bring the gift of lots of smut. Probably the kinkiest thing I’ve written to date, which I’ll list off in the warnings. This is all based off conversations I’ve had with 🖤 anon for a while :3 so I can’t take all the credit! I hope yawl enjoy this absolute FILTH 💅💅💅
After being woken up from a vivid erotic dream about your boss, who you’re currently on the last night of sharing a hotel room and bed with after a successful case, you’re more than reassured that it’s okay to have such dreams about him. And he’ll learn a bit more about you than he first thought.
Warning(s): light hurt/comfort, very brief mention of Foyet and what he did, so much sex, use of petnames, bunny kink, daddy/sir kink, erotic dreams, oral (both m/f giving and receiving), light gagging, pussy slapping, spanking, light humiliation, a lot of dirty talk in general, fingering, p in v penetration, body worship (both m/f giving and receiving), size kink, slight gaping, condom use, it's just kinky okay what can I tell you?
It was not often enough for a case to end well in a way that allowed for you all to head out for a celebratory meal afterwards. But luckily for you all this time it most certainly had turned out better than anticipated in the end. The kidnapped victims had been found safely and the unsub was subdued with no casualties. Spirits were higher than they had been in the previous case and thus you all found yourselves sitting around a large table sharing a meal; Rossi's treat, of course.
The mood was certainly more rowdy tonight with the sounds of laughter bouncing around the table and cheerful chatter filled the atmosphere with a familial warmth. You were perching more to your left on your chair right now, engaging in the conversation with JJ and Emily with great enthusiasm, something that the two were raising a brow at, though you pretended not to notice. In truth, you were trying to avoid the man sitting on your right. Not for displeasure reasons, but quite the opposite in fact. Attempting to avoid brushing your leg or arm against your very sexy boss was the cause for your behaviour right now.
Aaron Hotchner had been your hotel room mate for the week, something that had been extremely difficult for you to cope with having as big of a crush on him as you did. You'd seen him in far less clothing than his standard neat, tight suits during the entire week as he slept in fitted tees and his underwear, although you suspected he didn't typically do that when he slept alone. It was a very bad idea to linger on those sorts of thoughts though…
JJ suddenly bumped into you, having been shoved by Emily at the climax of a funny story and you squeaked, jolting back and ultimately knocking against Aaron with a yelp.
"H-hey! You two, watch it!" You squeaked, earning a hearty laugh from the dark haired woman.
"Aww come on, it was an accident."
As you opened your mouth to retort, you felt a warm hand rest upon your right leg, just short of your large thigh, and you fought the urge to jolt again.
"Are you alright?" You heard the man beside you ask and you shivered. You didn’t want to look at him in fear of embarrassing yourself by ogling, but at the same time you didn’t want to be rude either. You turned your head in his direction and your breath escaped you when your eyes met his beautiful brown ones accidentally. His gaze was intense and yet kind and concerned. You offered a shy smile.
“I am y-yes. Don’t worry about me, we’re all just in good spirits tonight, sir.”
His brow raised slightly.
“Aaron.” He said. You blinked.
“Mm?”
“We aren’t working now, call me Aaron.”
Oh. You shifted in your seat and grimaced when the wood creaked slightly.
“Alright then, Aaron.” You chuckled to yourself, earning an increasingly perplexed expression on his face. To which you flustered and turned towards him more in your seat and waved a hand out in front of you. “I-I’m not laughing at your name! I’m just- it’s unusual for me to call you by your first name so I’m-“
Aaron’s delightful but sadly rare laugh cut you off and you were greeted with his cute dimples on his cheeks. Even the others stilled their conversation at the sound, but he didn’t appear to care to pay them any mind.
“Please, relax. You're fine, (Y/n).” He smiled, and you basked in the smoothness of his deep voice. You swore you were just imagining things when you felt his hand slightly slip upwards to your lower thigh and squeeze gently, nonetheless you shivered.
The hand remained on your leg right up until Aaron excused himself to visit the restroom whilst the rest of your group began shrugging your coats on ready to head back to the hotel. You felt flutters in your stomach and you fought off a nervous twitch of the corner of your mouth, something your dear friend and colleague Derek noticed.
“A little excited, huh?” He teased, waggling his expressive eyebrows at you. From his perspective you must have appeared like a deer in headlights, eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape.
“Wh- no! I’m tired, eager to go to sleep so we can fly home tomorrow.” You responded quickly as you straightened out your clothing and fastened your coat up.
“Mhm, sure you are.”
Emily was smirking at you when your head whipped round at the sound of her voice and one of her perfect brows was arched. You felt flushed, desperate to rush outside into the biting air of the night. Before you opened your mouth to retort back at her, you noticed her eyes flick over your shoulder and you knew he had returned.
“Ready to go?” Aaron addressed the group. There was a series of responses bounced around and you felt a hand lightly press to the small of your back. You jolted slightly, and met his gaze with a turn. “Shall we go?”
You could only nod. Vainly ignoring the pointed stares of your friends, you followed beside your unit chief as everyone exited the restaurant. You shivered slightly when the frigid wind hit your face, but you were grateful for the temperature change. The walk was short with the restaurant being located a few short blocks from the hotel and you found yourself in step with Emily and JJ, listening and chiming in with the plans they were putting together to have a girl’s night with your one only absent member of the team in the field; Penelope.
“You could stay over at my place at the end of the night out, if you wanted.” Emily said. You nodded and grinned, but JJ grimaced slightly.
“I’d be headed back home to my boys after. I wanna spend as much time with them as I can,” She spoke, then smiled smugly. “Aside from you lovely ladies, of course.”
The darker haired woman of the two huffed out a quiet laugh before the conversation died down when you came to a stop in front of the hotel’s elevator. You busied yourself with looking down at your phone when you felt the men from the team catch you all up and, with the opening of the doors, you all shuffled inside tiredly. You ended up towards the back wall, separated from Emily and JJ, and you briefly caught Emily’s eye. That smirk was present on her face again and you glanced away quickly, only to watch as your breathtaking unit chief squeezed between Derek and Spencer towards you. You couldn’t help your eyes widening slightly and your legs brushing against one another as he came to stand beside you. God, you needed to leave this damn elevator quickly. Slowly, the doors closed and you felt the movement of the elevator rising up to the floor Rossi was on. He, of course, had a room all to himself with the excuse of him being the oldest member of the team and therefore, needing his own space. The remainder of you all were on the floor above in doubles. And that was where your problem lay…
Just one more night, you thought to yourself. One more, then you could escape from the torture of sharing with Aaron Hotchner. Torture, as in sleeping on the only bed in the room; a queen, so close under the covers to the man who had taken up the entirety of your fantasies and erotic dreams. It hadn’t been easy, using the same shower he did, smelling his body wash and imagining it was in your shower at home instead. It was all too much for you and it made your thighs clench together. And while the case had been a good distraction from the full extent of your thoughts about the man, you didn’t have that now with it finished. Tonight was going to be the most tortuous of them all.
You followed behind Derek when the elevator stopped on your floor and you skittishly trekked down the corridor, unable to participate in conversation well. Your room was the first, and as Aaron unlocked the door, you watched helplessly as your friends bid you as much of a ‘good night’ as a pointed smirk that made you turn your back on them, cheeks burning. Seeing the door swung open, you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ to him as you passed and Aaron followed, quietly closing the door behind you both and locking it again. You crossed the room to your side of the queen-sized bed and shyly perched on the edge to unfasten your shoes and kick them off.
“Do you want to take a shower first?” You heard Aaron say and you turned your body to look at him. Your breath hitched at the sight of him without his jacket on and one of his large hands was loosening the knot of his tie. You blinked a few times, trying to break your stare and you shook your head.
“Oh, no you can. Thank you, si- Aaron.”
Your cheeks flushed when he smirked at your self-correction and he hummed.
“Thanks. I’ll be quick.”
As he disappeared into the shower room with his change of clothes and towel, you flopped backwards on the bed with an exhale. One more night. Just one more and you would be free from accidentally embarrassing yourself or revealing your feelings in front of your boss. You didn’t know how you were going to sleep well tonight with nothing work-related to focus on now. No, instead your mind was fixated on the knowledge you had been sharing a bed with the man you thought about way too often, dreamt about too often, and gasped out the name of whilst you touched yourself when you definitely shouldn’t have been.
Sitting up again, you busied yourself with packing your bag as a distraction, leaving out your clothes for the journey home tomorrow. By the time you were finished, the door to the shower room swung open and Aaron walked out, rubbing his towel through his wet hair. Oh fuck.
With his arms stretched up, his more fitted black tee rode upwards and, to your delight and horror, the sexy softness of his lower stomach peeked out. You could spy the dark hair trailing from the top of his grey boxers and just below it-
“Shower’s all yours.”
You jolted at the sound of his voice and you grabbed your pyjamas and towel quickly, avoiding his gaze.
“T-thank you.”
When you heard the click of the lock, you began to tremble and buried your face in the fabric in your hands. God, you wanted to scream right now. Feebly, you hoped he hadn’t caught you staring at his physique just now but you weren’t so sure. It didn’t help that the scent of his shower gel and aftershave enveloped you in the steamy room. You clenched your thighs together and drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down enough to wash off the day. Stripping your clothes off and setting them down on the side of the sink top, not daring to look in the mirror too much at your plush body for you knew you’d see just how riled up you were right now.
The cold water of the shower did nothing to stifle the sensations between your legs, your pussy throbbed, yearning to be touched. You forbade it. Tomorrow, you thought. Not when the cause of your arousal was just the other side of the door. But even still you couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together as the water cascaded down your curves and bumps. Eventually, you gave up and shut the water off and stepped out with your towel wrapped around your figure. You kept your touch feather-light as you dried yourself off and pulled your nightwear on, biting your lip and whimpering when the fabric brushed against the sensitive skin of your breasts and inner thighs. Drawing in a deep breath, you gathered your clothes up after finishing your nightly routine and exited out into the main room.
Aaron wasn’t in bed as you expected, rather standing by the hotel room’s desk with a casefile in hand. At the sound of your return he glanced up from the paperwork through his thick lashes. You swallowed thickly as you returned to your side of the bed again and bent over to stuff the last of your clothes into your bag. Behind you, Aaron cleared his throat and you straightened up quickly and climbed onto the bed, but he remained where he stood, now with his back to you still holding the file. You pouted.
“Si-Aaron, leave that for when we get back to the office. Or at least until we get on the plane,” You said as you peeled the covers back and settled under them. “Come to bed.”
“Making orders, are we?” The man retorted and you froze up, eyes wide in alarm when he turned slightly to look at you. His brows were furrowed, mouth pulled downward in a stern frown.
“A-Ah no! Just- I just thought you could do with an earlier night work-free tonight!” You squeaked, shifting on the bed ready to stand up again until he chuckled and flashed you a cheesy grin.
“I’m teasing you. I’m sorry, you’re right though. I’ll just be a moment, then I’ll be right over.”
You stared, blinking slowly as you processed what had just occurred, then a giggle bubbled out of you as you settled back against the pillows on your side. Aaron wasn’t really the type to tease anyone, and the way he said it to you was… well, sexy. Authoritative. You certainly would be thinking of that tomorrow when you finally returned home. But right now you had to get through this last night, somehow.
As he said, Aaron set the paperwork down after a few minutes and padded across the room to settle down on the bed. Attempting to distract yourself in the meantime, you were scrolling on your phone casually and forcefully willed yourself not to look at him when you felt the mattress dip under his weight settling next to you. As he shuffled under the covers, you reached over to your bedside table and set your phone down, then snuggled down against the pillows. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close to you that it was electrifying. Your body shuddered.
“Cold?” Aaron queried. Your toes curled.
“Y-yeah. I’ll warm up though.”
“Right. Let me know if you don’t though.”
“Will do.” You turned on your side, facing away from him as he reached for the light switch on the wall next to him. “Good night, sir.”
Aaron hummed.
“Sleep well, (Y/n).”
And somehow, you managed to drift off to sleep.
“Mhm, come on now. Show daddy your pretty pussy.” Aaron said with a smirk, kneeling between your plump thighs as you dug your heels into the mattress.
You bit your lip, gazing up at his dishevelled appearance, his shirt unbuttoned the whole way and hanging from his shoulders to reveal the plains of his strong chest and soft pudge of his lower stomach. And below it was a prominent bulge pressed against the fly of his neat slacks, the sight making you shudder with need. Shyly, you grabbed your legs by the back of your knees and slowly pulled them apart, feeling your folds spread and the cool air of the room caressed your glistening slit. Aaron’s pupils dilated until his brown eyes appeared almost black and his hands came to grip onto the meat of your thighs, fingers digging in as he pulled them further apart to examine your throbbing clit and twitchy entrance. He groaned as a trail of juices trickled out of you, slowly disappearing between your ass cheeks before him.
“Yes… such a good girl for daddy. You want me to play with your pussy, huh?”
You rolled your hips eagerly, letting out a guttural whine.
“Please daddy, please!”
His smirk widened.
“Please, what?”
You whimpered as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“P-please play with my pussy, daddy! Need your fingers so badly!” You cried, rolling your hips again.
“Good girl.”
His hands brushed closer and closer to your slit until he suddenly pushed back the hood of your clit with his right thumb, exposing the bundle of nerves to him and eliciting a squeak. But as his other hand came to caress it your hips jumped, the pleasurable sensation intense already. He cooed.
“So sensitive and jumpy, like a cute little bunny.”
Your eyes widened and your body jolted with his words, making him let out a surprised chuckle.
“Oh? You like being called bunny, huh? Naughty girl.” He said and his hand came down fast and slapped your poor clit. You wailed, your grip on your legs tightening.
“D-daddy~!”
Your cheeks warmed, your lower belly coiling in embarrassment and arousal and he let out a breathy laugh again.
“Awww, is my little bunny embarrassed she liked that? How cute. Don’t worry though, daddy’s gonna take care of you…”
Muffled sounds roused Aaron from his light slumber and he sat up quickly in alarm, reaching over to his bedside table- then he realised the covers were moving beside him. He cautiously turned to look over your side of the bed and his jaw clenched.
Writhing with the sheets kicked mostly off, you slept restlessly. A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead and your brows were creased. This was where the noise was coming from, Aaron thought as you whimpered quietly. A nightmare? Then he really paid attention to the way your body moved, hips rolling, legs splaying lazily and your hands clutched at the sheets. Oh.
Within his boxers, Aaron felt his cock twitch at the realisation of what you were more likely dreaming about in that moment. Fuck. What was he to do? He most certainly wouldn’t get anymore sleep now at this rate. Maybe he should quietly get dressed and leave with a note telling you he went for a walk. But at the same time he didn’t like the thought of leaving you by yourself- Aaron scrunched his eyes shut and clenched his hands into fists, pushing away the more serious thoughts. You were capable of protecting yourself, he knew that. And yet…
“Mmh, daddy please…” He heard beside him and his entire body jolted in surprise, eyes flying open and immediately finding your face. Aaron swallowed thickly as his cock twitched again, hardening slowly.
Try as he might to resist, his eyes wandered to the rest of your body where your chest rose and fell, the swell of your breasts strained against the confines of your pyjama shirt. Fuck, your nipples were pebbled and for a moment he wondered how they'd feel between his teeth.
He clenched his jaw and forced his gaze away from your chest, only to find himself ogling the squishiness of your stomach. Oh, how he had fantasised about gripping onto it as he thrusted his cock into you, needing to see how your body moved in time with him. And as his eyes trailed down to your moving hips he spotted the dampening patch on the crotch of your pyjama shorts- fuck, he needed to wake you up now.
Carefully, Aaron reached a shaky hand over towards you in the darkness of the room and touched your shoulder.
“(Y/n), hey, wake up.” He said softly, and in response your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a groan. “Come on, wake up, sweetheart.”
A moment passed, then your eyes fluttered open and flicked to look at him, only to squeak and flinch back when familiarity filled your gaze.
“S-sir!” You cried out.
This couldn’t be happening to you right now, surely. You surely weren't sprawled out flushed and needy whilst Aaron stared down at you as he kneeled beside you, his hand still resting on your shoulder. You quickly sat up and pulled the covers up over your form.
“Wh-what’s wrong? Do we have a case?” You stumbled over the words quickly, and Aaron blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh.
“No, no. Don't worry about that. Are you okay?” He asked gently and you felt your stomach clench. Oh no…
“I-I….”
Aaron leaned a little closer, brows creased in concern.
“Bad dream?”
You froze. He really did hear you, then. After a moment, you sighed and rubbed your hands over your face.
“No… but I think you already know that, sir.” You mumbled.
Aaron hummed and dropped his hand from your shoulder.
“I didn't want to accuse you of anything and embarrass you,” he said and shifted back towards his side of the bed ever so slightly to give you space. “But, well, I woke up because I could hear you.”
Your grip on the covers tightened as a cold feeling of shame oozed over you.
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen.”
You mumbled as your head drooped and you felt your lower lip begin to tremble. This was the worst thing to happen right now. Not only had you dreamt of your boss in an inappropriate way, you'd disturbed his sleep too.
“Hey…” Aaron began softly, reaching across again to take hold of one of your hands. You refused to look up though, the negative feelings within now burned through your veins like lava. “Look at me.” He said.
You didn't move.
“I can't. Wanna forget this happened, sir.” You mumbled back.
He was quiet for a moment, brushing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.
“Well I don't.”
That got your attention, then. Your head snapped up and your eyes searched his face.
“I-I’m sorry?”
Aaron gazed down at you through his thick lashes, the sight causing a warmth to pool within your lower abdomen. Had he gotten closer all of a sudden?
“I’m going to switch the room light on, protect your eyes for a moment.”
You complied immediately, turning away to bury your face in the crook of your arm and you heard the click of the light switch, signalling you to slowly pull your arm away from your squinting eyes. Now… Now there was nothing to hide from him. You turned back towards him and you shuddered at the sight of his rugged appearance. Aaron exhaled.
“Listen (Y/n), you think I'm a stranger to erotic dreams? Of course I'm not.” He said, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You've nothing to be ashamed of.”
“But I do!” You cried and pulled back, stumbling out of bed and clenching your hands into fists. “I shouldn't have had this dream, especially since I dreamt about the very person I've been-” your eyes widened then, realising what you'd almost said. Aaron knelt up now, moving closer to where you stood backed against the wall.
“Been what?”
You just had to dig your hole deeper. Aaron’s brows were creased now, but all you could do was stare back with a saddened furrow.
“(Y/n)?”
The prickling feeling in the corner of your eyes triggered your throat to tighten as you fought the urge to cry.
“You know what I'm going to say, but I'm ashamed to say it.” You choked.
Aaron's brows raised slightly, but he remained quiet for a moment as though lost in thought.
Every second that passed was agony, your mind beginning to race away from you with ‘what ifs’ about everything. Was he uncomfortable with you? What if you were transferred or fired? The thought made your chest ache and finally, the tears began to roll down your cheeks and your breaths grew shallow and fast.
“Hey, hey. (Y/n), look at me. C'mere back to bed.” Aaron's voice brought you from your thoughts and your eyes refocused on the contours of his mature face. He was painfully beautiful. “Will you let me hug you? You're okay. You've nothing to be ashamed of.”
You simply nodded meekly and he breathed, reaching out to you-of which you met him halfway by crawling back onto the mattress- and pulled you over for a warm, ever engulfing embrace, maintaining you at his side respectfully. You let out a whimper as you gripped onto his shirt tightly, whilst his hands held firmly onto your soft body.
“I'm sorry.” You mumbled against his shirt.
“You don't need to be.”
“I had an embarrassing sex dream about you and now you're comforting me for it.”
Aaron held you closer still, resting your head on his chest. Wait- his heart was racing.
“Maybe that’s because I want to.” He said quietly. You pulled back.
“Wh-why?”
He quirked a little grin as one of his hands glided up and down your back soothingly.
“Well, when I said I am no stranger to erotic dreams…” he trailed off and your breath hitched.
No way. Surely he wasn't implying-
“Whatever you're thinking, the answer is yes. I've had my own fair share of…dreams about you.” His eyes were fixed on you as he spoke, and you felt your body trembling. He let out a chuckle. “I've been very lucky this week that somehow I haven't had one, to put things into perspective.”
You stared at him for a moment, then your face broke out into a flustered grin and you giggled.
“Oh! Well I- I didn't expect that, sir!”
With the room light on now you could bear witness to the delightful sight of Aaron's flushed pink cheeks as he grinned bashfully.
“Now you see that you have nothing to be ashamed of.”
You both quietened for a moment, holding one another gently as you studied one another. He really was such a beautiful man. Silently, he leaned down towards you closer still and your breath hitched.
“A-are you gonna kiss me, sir?”
“Mhm, you called me something very different when you were sleeping.” He murmured and you shuddered.
“I…”
“I sure hope you're not about to apologise again to me, sweetheart.” He said as he leaned closer towards your face, eyes gazing down at your lips through his thick lashes. “Because if you are, I'm going to have to put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”
Your eyes widened and you shivered as your thighs clenched together.
“F-fuck…”
Aaron hummed and cupped your cheeks with his large hands, his thumbs stroking your soft skin.
“May I kiss you, (Y/n)?”
You swallowed thickly.
“Please.” You managed to whisper.
And his lips were pressed against yours a moment later, tender and gentle and sensual as your eyes fluttered shut and your hands came to grab onto the front of his tee shirt. Instinctively, you whined into it and his hands moved, gliding down to your plush waist and gripping onto the flesh. He moved backwards, pulling you with him to straddle his lap and as your clothed slit reached the fabric of his underwear you felt just how much he wanted this from the firm, hot bulge that pressed against the confines of the fabric.
You whimpered as he pulled back barely enough for him to be able to speak, his lips still brushing against yours as he spoke.
“Feel how much I like you, huh? Need you so much, pretty girl.”
You shyly rolled your hips, grinding your mound against the bulge and earning a sharp hiss from the man before you. His hands moved suddenly to grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and melding them and causing you to roll your hips more in response. He groaned against your mouth when his lips met yours again, the second kiss being more heated and desperate; hungry for you. Only when the need for oxygen burned in your chest did you both part once more, but his lips remained on your skin as they travelled along your soft jaw.
“C'mon, tell me about the dream you were having.” He coaxed you, holding your body flushed with his more than ever. You merely whimpered and your hands moved to his hair, messing it up with strands pointing in random directions. Aaron tutted and turned you both over, pinning you beneath him and making you squeal.
“A-alright! I, mmh, wanted you to touch my p-pussy, you had me spread my legs for you.”
Something flared within Aaron's dark eyes and you heard a rumble in his chest; possessive and aroused. His hands gripped your hips and you parted your thighs a little, eager for him. He smirked.
“Oh? Well, we'll build up to that. Wanna ask you a few things first.” he said, brushing his nose against yours. “I wanna know what you're okay with and your limits.”
You sucked your lower lip between your teeth and slowly released it, enjoying the way Aaron's eyes fixated on your mouth.
“J-just as long as you don't do anything too extreme like really hurting me or extremely gross I'm okay. I'm a big girl, I can take it.”
You felt as Aaron's hands slid up to cup your cheeks and he kissed the tip of your nose fondly, making you hum.
“I see, I don't want to hurt you, at least nothing more than if you enjoyed a bit of spanking. How does that sound, hmm?” He said and you shuddered, flashes of the dream you'd had causing you to subtly spread your legs a little wider.
A whine escaped you as you held onto him desperately. “Yes, fuck please!”
Aaron smiled.
“Good girl.”
You shivered and opened and closed your mouth a few times, debating on how to word what you wanted to say next. He quirked a brow.
“What is it?”
“I… well, I love slaps on my ass but I also- fuck, this is embarrassing!” you squeaked, earning a kiss to your forehead, then Aaron brushed his own forehead against yours.
“You don't need to be embarrassed, sweetheart. I'm not here to shame you.”
With a whimper, you blurted it out.
“I really like pussy spanking!”
As the words slipped your mouth the reaction was instantaneous; the man before you jolted forward, his hips bumping against yours and pressing the prominent bulge of his erection against your inner thigh. And it twitched. You made a small noise as he pushed himself up again as he uttered an apology.
“I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry.” Aaron said but in response you rolled your hips upwards, chasing the feeling of his arousal against your body.
“I-It’s more than fine, s-Aaron.”
He hummed, pressing his weight down onto you now and his lips brushed over yours.
“So, pussy spanking? I didn’t expect that from you, naughty girl.” He teased you and you shuddered. He chuckled softly and began to slightly grind his bulge against the heat of your clothed slit. “You want daddy to spank your pussy, huh?”
You bit your lip, brows creasing as you nodded at him with a little hum.
“Y-you’re okay with daddy?”
Aaron stroked your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth.
“More than okay with it, I assure you.”
With that he pressed his lips to yours properly once more and his large hands travelled down your neck until he grasped your breasts, causing you to gasp in surprise. Aaron took advantage of this, his tongue brushing against your own whilst his fingers pinched and flicked at your erect nipples through your pyjama shirt. All you could do was grip onto his upper arms, the strong muscles tensing as you rolled your hips up against Aaron's bulge and causing much needed friction on your poor clit.
When you both parted for oxygen again, you whined.
“Please-!”
“Aww, please what?” Aaron cooed at you, though it wasn't entirely sincere but rather mimicking your tone. You felt flushed, embarrassed but enjoying it more than you thought you would.
“W-wanna feel your hands on my skin!”
With a hum of approval, you felt as he pulled at the hem of your shirt and you shifted up from the bed just enough for him to be able to pull it off your body, exposing your plush body to him finally. You didn’t have time to clam up and cover yourself with your arms as Aaron gently grasped your wrists and pinned them either side of your head. He exhaled deeply, causing a rumble to vibrate through his chest. His dark eyes roamed over your form and again, you felt his cock twitch.
“Jesus, you’re fucking beautiful.”
Your legs came to clamp around his hips and you tried to curl your knees inwards in a feeble attempt at covering yourself.
“S-sir!” you squeaked. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.
“Careful, if you call me that I may not know what to do with myself when we’re working together.”
Your eyes widened in alarm, but a faint smirk toyed with the corner of his mouth and you relaxed a little. You’d keep that in mind for now. Drawing your attention back to the present, Aaron released his hold on your wrists, only for his hands to glide across your shoulders and down the centre of your chest, teasing you by avoiding touching your nipples. Now, he allowed himself to smile more openly and he drew in a deep breath.
“So soft, so fucking sexy. You’ll let me kiss them, huh pretty girl?” He murmured.
You nodded and offered a brief ‘yes’ and he slid down the bed a little until his face was level with your breasts. You shuddered when his lips made contact with the valley between them, leaving little kisses over the area and starting to sidle over to the right one, his tongue slipping out to swirl around your areola and causing you to arch up into his touch and gasp out. You could feel his lips curl into a smirk as they wrapped around the pert nipple and he sucked it into his mouth, his hand coming to grab your other breast and roll the nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. You moaned softly, moving your hands to sift through the dark locks of Aaron’s hair and mussing it up. When his teeth brushed against the tip your back arched and you tugged on his hair, making him huff a muffled laugh.
With a wet smack of his lips, he pulled away from your now swollen nipple and brushed his lips over the flushed skin.
“You sound so sexy when you moan for me, pretty girl.” He murmured and you let go of his hair to cover your face with your hands, squeaking.
“Shhh! Don't say that!”
Unbeknownst to you, his gaze darkened and suddenly, his hand came down and slapped your inner thigh and startling you with a squeal.
“Aaron!”
His hand slapped your thigh again, closer to your clothed slit.
“What was that, hm?” He said darkly, his hand gripping onto the meat of your thigh, his fingers indenting slightly. You breathed shakily.
“I-I-”
“It’s daddy, got it? Or do you want to be punished?”
You stared into his dark eyes and sucked on your lower lip again, slightly swaying your hips side to side.
“No, daddy. I-I’ll be a good girl.” you whimpered and Aaron hummed softly, moving his hands up to cup your cheeks and brushing his thumbs against your skin.
“That’s right, you’re my good girl.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours again, groaning softly into the kiss and you returned to brushing your fingers through his dark locks. You felt him press his thick bulge against you and you desperately wanted to feel his bare skin against yours. Needed to see it, touch it, taste it…
Aaron grunted in surprise as you shoved him away, only to hear you giggle as you manoeuvred him to lay on his back whilst you knelt at his crotch. His eyes narrowed at you.
“What do you think you’re doing, hmm?” He asked darkly and you leaned down closer to the twitching bulge of his boxers.
“Can I have a taste please, sir?”
Visibly, Aaron’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. He let out a puff of air through his nose and a smirk tugged at his mouth.
“What did I tell you about calling me ‘sir’? You fucking naughty girl.” He gritted, although he wasn’t truly annoyed. You hummed innocently.
“Whoops, I can’t help it, sir. I’m just so used to it.”
Shaking his head but smiling slightly, Aaron raised a brow at you and his body relaxed.
“Well, since you asked so nicely I’ll forgive and forget both you shoving me ah-nd-” His words stuttered when you pressed a little kiss to the tip of his clothed cock and hummed softly at the feeling of the patch of precum staining his boxers touching your lips. “F-fuck…”
You beamed at him between his slightly parted legs, pressing your soft cheek against the bulge affectionately.
“You’re so big, daddy!”
With your newfound confidence, you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his underwear and slid them down, eyes wide as they focused on his cock. You heard Aaron hiss when his length finally slipped out, slapping against the lower part of his tee shirt. He was very big. Aaron let out a deep, quiet moan as he studied your expression- you were in awe, almost salivating at the sight of him. You slid down to lay on your stomach, taking hold of his shaft and causing him to hiss sharply. From the hem of his shirt you could see the base of his thick happy trail, the dark hair spreading out across his pubic bone and haloing his cock. With your other hand, you pulled his underwear down further until they reached his mid-thigh and now you had access to his mouth-watering balls too. You whimpered. Aaron felt precum slowly drip down off his tip, soaking into his shirt and leaving a little wet patch.
“You like the look of daddy’s cock huh?”
You nodded and whined out a little “yes” before you nuzzled your face against his cock. Eyes fluttering shut, you slowly opened your mouth and took the oozing tip inside, humming at the taste of his natural body and the slightly salty precum. You heard Aaron swear as you swirled your tongue around the tip, slipping your mouth further down the shaft. You bobbed your head lightly, sucking against his skin and feeling giddiness rise in your chest with every grunt and moan and curse that passed his lips. He tasted so good, addicting and you craved more. With one hand on his shaft, sliding up and down to meet your mouth, the other glided up to his stomach, slipping under his shirt and gripping onto the soft pudge there. You carded your fingers through the thick, dark hair there and felt the muscles under his skin contracting with every suck and lick of his cock. You felt his hands gently grip your scalp and you dug your fingers into his stomach when he began to guide you up and down his length.
“Unnf… that’s it, fuck- such a good fucking girl-” Aaron moaned softly, and you could feel him twitching against your tongue. You took more into your mouth until you felt the tip reach the back, just short of your throat, and you gagged a little. Aaron pulled you off quickly, sitting up to cup your cheeks. “Oh shit, I’m sorry sweetheart. Are you okay?” His eyes searched your face, the saliva dribbling down your chin and the little gasping breaths passing your swollen lips. You grinned.
“Mmh I am. Guess I gotta practice more to build up to that.” You breathed and slid your hand up and down his length. Aaron bucked his hips in surprise, falling back against the pillows with a grunt and causing you to giggle. “Oops~!”
You continued to slide your hand up over the slick tip whilst you kissed down the underside of the shaft until you reached the place where his cock met his balls. You hummed softly, tongue darting out to lick them and causing Aaron to groan deeply from the back of his throat. You could only sneak a couple more kisses before he pulled you away from his cock, grabbing onto your upper arms and hauling you to straddle him. He pressed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss, no doubt tasting himself on your lips, and his hands slid over to your back and encouraged you to grind your clothed slit over his shaft. You whined, feeling the tip bump your clit with the movement and wanting to feel more. Before you knew it, you were trapped beneath him on your back again, gasping in surprise and in turn, allowing his tongue to slip against yours. You felt hot, burning with need for him and craving him to do as he pleased with you so long as you could stay with him.
Aaron reeled back, gazing down at you with a look of pure desire and admiration of you. He reached for his shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it without any care and your pupils blew wide at the breathtaking sight of him in his entirety. Your eyes trailed over his form, over every bump and curve, the hair sprouting over his stomach, at every mole and beauty mark. But also at the faded but still raised scars that were scattered all across his body. You hadn’t known him during the threat of Foyet but had heard some of what transpired. But seeing it before you, seeing what physical damage that sadistic man had done to Aaron made your breath hitch. You blinked a few times, both to stop yourself from staring but also to try to clear away the tears welling up. Aaron noticed them though, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose affectionately.
“I’m okay, sweetheart. I promise.” He murmured softly. You nodded, but in the back of your mind you filed this off for a later time. For now, you slid your hand across his torso, feeling his skin under your touch and you kissed the corner of his mouth.
“You’re so handsome, sir. I knew you were already but…”
Aaron chuckled quietly, the tips of his ears evidently red as he cupped your cheek with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over your lips.
“Sweet-talking me, are we? Well, I appreciate it. I feel the same way seeing you.” kneeling back and lightly gripping onto the band of your shorts, he smirked. “Speaking of… shall we get these off you now, pretty girl? Gotta show your cute, little pussy the same amount of love you gave my cock.”
You squeaked, hips twitching upwards into his touch and allowing him to start sliding the shorts down your plush stomach and stretching over your large thighs. At the sight of your pubic mound, Aaron hummed deeply and made quick work pulling the fabric off the rest of the way, too joining the rest of your clothes elsewhere on the floor. You bit your lip, gazing up at him desperately and he chuckled again,
“Mhm, now I recall what you told me earlier from your dream. So,” He leaned back to give you space and gripped his girthy cock with one of his large hands. “Show daddy your pretty pussy.”
Oh fuck, you whimpered as you felt your clit throb at his command. You slid your hands down your body and gripped onto your legs, hooking your hands under your knees, and started parting your thighs for him. The cool air of the room hitting your dewy folds caused you to shiver, and the sight of Aaron jerking himself off to you made you feel confident, more aroused.
“I-is this okay, sir?”
Aaron gripped the base of his cock tightly, groaning a little and shifting forward towards your spread legs.
“God- so fucking pretty. You’ll let daddy touch, won’t you? You’re so wet.” He breathed, eyes focused on your slit.
“P-please-”
“Good girl.”
Letting go of his cock, Aaron instead moved his hands down to part your folds with his thumbs, licking his lips at the sight of your juices coating your skin. You shivered again, rolling your hips in desperation.
SLAP.
You squealed, back arching as the sting of Aaron’s hand impacting with your pussy startled you more than hurt you.
“Daddy!”
“I didn’t say you could keep moving around, little girl.”
Your eyes widened at his sharp tone, staring up at him as he glared. He resumed with his touches, swiping his fingers down from your little bundle of nerves to your leaking entrance. You whimpered, struggling to stay still but you couldn’t stop yourself from twitching. He chuckled and held his hand out to you showing off how much of your juices had stuck to his fingers.
“Would you look at that, little girl. So sensitive… i’ve barely touched you and you’re so jumpy.”
Your eyes widened and your stomach clenched, causing Aaron to pause.
“What is it? Are you alright?” His tone softened and you panicked a little.
“A-ah yes! Don’t worry, I just-” you felt a flush of warmth to your cheeks as you thought of how to word what you were about to say next. “Well, in my dream I was jumpy and you said I was jumpy like a b-bunny.”
For a moment the room was quiet, and you wondered if you had made a mistake. But as you opened your mouth to take back what you’d said, Aaron pinched your clit, making you cry out and buck your hips up.
“Well well, you’re more fucking filthy than I expected. You want me to call you my little bunny, huh?”
You keened up at him, letting out a high pitched noise as you tightened your grip on your legs.
“P-please, daddy!”
With a quiet huffing laugh, Aaron swiped his fingers across your pussy again and leaned down to press a kiss to your pubic mound. You quivered, anticipating what he would do next.
“So soft… Mmh, you smell so good, bunny. Gonna taste you now.” He whispered and slid his mouth lower, brushing his lips over the hood of your sensitive clit. He hummed, sending vibrations through your slit and you choked out, bucking your hips up against his face.
SLAP.
You sobbed out a broken moan with the smack to your pussy again, this time more firmly than the first one.
“Fuck- sorry da- ungh!” you could barely speak, words slurring into a loud moan when Aaron’s tongue swiped from your leaky hole up to your little nub, sucking it into his mouth and releasing it with a tug. He didn’t stop, lapping at the bundle of nerves with his talented tongue and all you could do was try to stop yourself from riding his face. With his slick covered hand, he circled a finger around your entrance and dipped it inside slightly with every round; teasing you. He sucked you back into his mouth again, simultaneously thrusting the finger inside you in one swipe and you wailed.
Your grip on your legs faltered, slipping from your grasp and your feet slammed down onto the mattress. With a growl, Aaron surrounded your clit with his teeth as he pulled his mouth away again and as he did so, his finger slipped back out of your pussy. The sound of his fingers slapping your poor slit resounded around the room, accompanied by your cute squeal.
“You’re a naughty fucking bunny, aren’t you? Can’t keep hold of your legs anymore, huh? Tsk.”
Shoving your legs apart, Aaron thrusted two fingers inside you this time and his mouth devoured your poor clit, the little nub becoming swollen and red from the spanks. With another sob, your hands came to grip at his hair and he growled again, fucking his fingers into you roughly. He would be the death of you, driving you brainless with his touch and you’d thank him for it too.
Two fingers became three, stretching your little pussy open around them as he tortured you with his mouth. You already felt full just with his thick fingers inside you, but you’d seen the girth of his cock and you could only wonder how much it would split you open for him.
“S-so much- Fuck! Daddy, s-so thick~” You whined, feeling your juices drooling out of you with every thrust of his fingers. Aaron pulled off your clit again far enough away to speak.
“You need stretching out so you can take daddy’s cock, bunny.”
He emphasised with a thrust upwards and your hips spasmed, hands gripping the bedsheets either side of you desperately.
“G-ghh fuck!”
His mouth resumed on your mound as his pace quickened, fingers rapidly thrusting in and out of you with a sloshing sound. You felt a burning pleasure building within your lower abdomen, coaxed by his torturous touch and your noises raised in pitch. With the feeling of your walls clamping around his fingers, Aaron smirked around your clit as he knew you were going to cum any moment now. With a light nibble of his teeth and a particular thrust you cried, back arching as you rode his mouth and fingers through your powerful orgasm. But he didn’t let up, continuing your torture until you were keening again. Only then did he relent, pulling off your clit with a wet smack of his lips and he pushed himself up with his spare hand, keeping his fingers of his other hand inside you still. He licked his lips.
“Mhm, you taste real good, bunny.” he smirked, eyes on your heaving chest. You struggled to catch your breath, eyes heavily lidded as you basked in the aftershocks.
“F-fuck, that was…”
“Us only getting started.”
That helped your eyes recover, widening as you stared up at the mischievous look on Aaron’s face.
“Oh fuck.”
He leaned down to kiss you, full of passion as you opened your mouth to taste your juices that lingered on his tongue, but pulled away far too soon and his fingers slipped out of your gushing hole. He cooed at you when you whimpered, pressing one more kiss to your forehead.
“Just gotta get a condom, bunny. You just sit tight for daddy, okay?” He said as he shifted away and clambered off the bed. Your eyes followed his toned rump, the urge to bite it suddenly flooded your mind and you bit your lip. Maybe another time, you thought.
“Why’d you have condoms, daddy? You thinking about fucking me?” You giggled as he grabbed a little foil packet from his go-bag. He turned to you with a glare, stalking over to the bed and crawling towards you on the mattress. Before you could react, his hand came down sharply on your overly sensitive clit and you wailed, body jolting as pleasure and pain spasmed through you.
“Don’t be coy with me, naughty little bunny. I have them for less mess. Which is your doing,” He emphasised with another, lighter slap to your clit, then massaged it with the slightly rough pad of his fingers. “You keep invading my dreams and I have to sort out the problem you cause.”
Oh fuck, you whined as your mind was filled with thoughts of Aaron waking from erotic dreams about you, fucking his fist at the thought of you afterwards.
“G-god that’s so hot, daddy!” you moaned, rolling your hips involuntarily and he grunted.
“It’s been torture, is what it is.” Aaron came to kneel between your spread legs again, this time his hips were flushed with your thighs, and he tore open the little wrapper with his skillful fingers. But as he began rolling the rubber over his thick shaft, his hands faltered and his cock twitched. “Oh god.”
You tilted your head.
“Wh-what’s wrong?”
Aaron didn’t say anything at first as he secured the condom in place, but then he pressed the length down against your squishy stomach and mound and you realised what he was thinking about.
“Look how small you are compared to daddy’s cock.” He marvelled. And he was right. He was so thick, at least three of his fingers in width, with the tip ending at the midway point of your low abdomen. Oh… You felt your pussy clench in anticipation.
“I…I don’t know if it’ll fit, daddy.”
You sucked your lip into your mouth, wiggling your hips as you shifted to get comfortable. Aaron cooed at you.
“Aww don’t worry bunny, daddy will make sure it fits.”
Grasping his cock and shifting back just enough to align the bulbous head with your pussy, he slowly brushed it up and down, using his other hand to spread your lips to expose more of your clit to him as he massaged it with his cock. You were gasping out cute, little noises which only encouraged him to grind more, thrusting over the hood of the sensitive nub with a quiet grunt.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. You ready to take my cock, little bunny?” He rumbled and you grasped for the hand spreading your folds.
“Please, sir! N-need it so badly~” you whined and with a huffed laugh, Aaron angled his cock in line with your oozing entrance.
“Gonna push inside now, bunny. Be a good girl for me-”
You could feel the pressure on your hole. The sensation of his cockhead slowly pushing into you made your eyes widen more and more until suddenly, it slid home and stretched you out deliciously.
“O-oh-!” Your mouth was agape, and Aaron groaned deeply with the sensation of your pussy clenching around his tip. Christ, you already felt full to the brim. But then as his hand slammed down onto the pillow beside your head in an attempt to stay upright, his cock slid in further- easing into you more and stretching you out a little bit at a time. “Fuck!” You moaned, eyes fluttering shut.
His own moan joined yours, deep and sensual and one of the best sounds you had ever heard. He stilled, holding himself up as he waited for you to adjust.
“F-fuck- sorry, sweetheart- you just feel so good I lost my balance for a moment.” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You alright?”
You nodded, straining your neck up to press your lips to his cheek over the beauty mark under his right eye.
“I am, don’t worry. Feels so good, I promise.” You murmured softly, smiling up at him. He chuckled and a delightful blush tinted his cheeks.
“Okay, okay. Gonna slide out a bit and try to get a little deeper, bunny.”
Pulling his hips back, you felt his length retreating until only the tip remained, then he lightly thrusted forward with a soft grunt again. Slowly, inch-by-inch he worked his cock inside you, encouraged by your soft moans. And then, you felt his hips press against the back of your thighs, stuffed full of his fat cock. Your eyes were blown wide, whining loudly when you felt the pad of his thumb brush against your clit.
“S-full…” you slurred, hands reaching for Aaron’s arms to grip onto. He was clenching his jaw, resisting the urge to fuck into you until you were ready.
“You take me so well, bunny- fuck!” Your pussy clenched around him from his praising and it took every ounce of his strength not to fall on top of you again.
You felt impossibly stuffed full of him with a dull ache throbbing through your lower abdomen, though not entirely unpleasant.
“P-please…”
“Please, what? Use your words, pretty bunny.” Aaron teased and you whined whilst pushing your hips up at him.
“Please move, daddy!” you finally whined out and he kissed your forehead.
“Good girl.”
Slowly sliding his cock out of you, your pussy clinging to his shaft like a vice grip, he paused when only the tip remained. And then he thrusted forward in one firm movement, spearing you on his length to the hilt. You cried out in time with his grunt, and slowly he picked up a pace. IN and out, in and out, your body jolting in time with every thrust, to which Aaron grabbed onto one of your breasts to leverage himself.
“Feel so fucking good around my cock- fuck- good little bunny-” Aaron grunted and emphasised his words every time he bottomed out, his voice more husky than usual as pleasure burned through his entirety. You could only moan and wail, the pressure of his cock stretching out your hole and the prominent vein running along the topside of his shaft stimulated your clitoris from within.
“S-so much- Aah-Aaron!” You wailed as your words melted into moans, not even paying attention to the fact his name had slipped through. You felt Aaron’s hips stutter and he swore loudly, curling downward and kissing your neck hungrily. His pace quickened, his cock barely pulling out more than halfway now and stimulating the roof of your pussy more thoroughly. But you least expected his hand grabbing your breast to let go, only to slap your poor clit and making you cry out barely lower than a scream. “Sir!”
Aaron pulled upright to glare down at you, still fucking his cock into you roughly,
“That’s not what you called me just now, you fucking naughty girl.” He hissed as he slapped your clit again. You howled, back arching and your legs tried to close but were blocked by his hips.
“Please! I’m sorry, daddy! Feels too good~”
“I haven’t even been fucking you for that long and you’re already this brainless? Fucking filthy.” He spat, rubbing his fingers over you clit rapidly. You writhed beneath him, not caring about having shame as your pleasure began to swell. He scoffed. “I can feel you pulsing. Gonna cum, are you? Go on, cum for daddy like the filthy fucking bunny you are.”
The pleasure was burning now, spreading through your core until you let out a broken moan, grabbing Aaron by the shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, his fingers still rapidly toying with your sensitive nub. It was blinding, no other orgasm had compared to this one before. Being so full of him, surrounded by him, his relentless movements… You were spasming hard, your body trying to shy away from the overwhelming pleasure but Aaron pulled you back with his free hand.
“Oh no you don’t. You’re staying right here, bunny.”
You whined as oversensitivity caused your body to shiver uncontrollably. Aaron finally relented, though still kept you stuffed with his cock and he brushed his lips against your cheek. “You doing okay?” he whispered softly and you nodded, smiling a little,
“God yeah, you’re fucking wild!” You giggled when he huffed out a laugh and nuzzled your cheek against his. “We can keep going, that was just the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had.”
“Jeez, well it was certainly the most intense sensation I’ve felt around my cock, I’ll tell you that.”
With one last kiss to your cheek, Aaron pulled back and his demeanour shifted back to being stern and dominant. He eyed the place where you two bodies joined and he hummed.
“Don’t move, daddy wants to check something, ‘kay?”
You whimpered as you felt his cock slowly pulling out of your oversensitive channel but then you squeaked when he pulled the tip out entirely, followed by a gush of your juices. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer, pushing your thighs back until you knees reached your chest. “Hold them there.”
You complied immediately, gripping the back of your knees and struggling a little bit with the sweat that had built up there. With his hands free now though Aaron carefully pried your folds apart and he groaned loudly. You twitched.
“Wh-what is it?”
His eyes dragged up to your face and he smirked.
“Wanted to see how much you’d stretched for daddy, bunny. You’re fucking gaping.”
You felt your eyes widen and a full-body shiver coursed through you.
“Oh my god.”
He hummed deeply again, then leaned his body down to swipe his tongue around your slightly gaping entrance. You could barely make a noise before he sat up again and pushed his cock back inside in one quick movement and you gasped loudly. With your knees pressed to your chest it felt as though he pushed impossibly deeper inside you and it made you mewl for him. He was rolling his hips sensually into you, moaning in his sensually baritone voice.
“Fuck… Don’t think I’m gonna last too much longer, sweetheart.” He huffed out when he felt you clenching around him again. You let go of your legs, hooking them over his shoulders and instead grasping hold of his hands.
“S’okay, me neither-”
Aaron’s pubic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, the hair tickling it with the roll of his hips. He squeezed your dominant hand and moved it between your bodies but didn’t let go, instead guiding your circles around the bundle of nerves.
“That’s it, good girl. My fucking good bunny.” He encouraged you. Pleasure was building again rapidly within you, and you turned your head to bite into the pillow cradling your head.
“F-fuck! Please- please!”
Aaron picked up the pace, pulling out just enough to piston in and out of you and his noises raised an octave higher.
“Shit- (Y/n)!” He moaned and that was it for you. Your body shook and quivered almost violently, eyes rolling back into your head as you wailed Aaron’s name. Simultaneously, his cock twitched prominently as he orgasmed, his body tensing aside from his bucking hips. There was no end, your pussy clenching around him in response to his hand guiding your clitoral stimulation, in turn prolonging his own overwhelming pleasure. Before it became all too much, he let go of your hand and both dropped onto the mattress, utterly fucked out.
The room was quiet aside from your mutually heavy breathing and the rush of blood in your ears. You could feel Aaron softening inside you now as the two of you calmed down but you whined and grabbed hold of him when he tried to pull away.
“No, stay!”
“Honey, I’ll collapse on you, and I’ve gotta take care of the condom.” He said softly to which you scowled at him.
“Ugh, but I wanna cuddle.” You protested weakly. He smiled and kissed your forehead.
“You need to pee too, pretty girl.”
You only slightly hated that he was right about that. A few minutes later, with some water and some snacks you had in your go-bag, the two of you cuddled up to one another under the covers, still bare but cosy. Initially, Aaron had protested laying half on top of you as you requested, but quickly accepted it with a light-hearted laugh when you pulled him down onto you and wrapped your limbs around him. It felt natural, as though you’d always been together. And it filled you with butterflies.
You brushed your fingers through his messy, dark hair and studied the beauty of his face when he lifted his head up from your bust to look at you. The corner of your mouth twitched.
“D’you wanna, um, maybe go for coffee sometime?”
Aaron grinned.
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“Yeah, I didn’t want this to just be, y’know, sex.” You said softly. He pressed a kiss to your chest just below your collarbones lovingly.
“Neither do I. I’d love to go out for coffee with you.”
And you beamed at him, your cheeks tinted with a rosy glow.
The following morning you followed alongside Aaron to the hotel reception area to meet up with the others, eyes still a bit bleary as you blinked rapidly. The others were already waiting for you, it turned out and immediately your stride faltered when you saw the expression on their faces. Oh no.
“Well, well! There you two are!” Derek chortled and you wished the floor would swallow you whole. His eyes fixed on you and he grinned widely. “Hey bunny! Sleep well?”You stopped in your tracks, as did Aaron and he glanced back at you, meeting your eye. You were in for a very long flight home.
Jesus christ that was the longest fucking standalone fic ever. I hope yawl enjoyed it if you stuck around until the end here 😭😭 thank you so much for reading!!!
Tagged people: @tgskitten @hoffmanfan13
#aaron hotchner x reader#hotch x reader smut#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x plus size reader#hotch smut#nsfw.#aaron hotchner#criminal minds fanfiction
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Please, Please, Please
Summary: A lot can change in two years, but will your husband be able to gain back your trust?
Pairing: past (?) Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 3k
Rating: T
Warnings: angst, talk about past shitty behaviour, moving on, feelings and their denial, more feelings, earning back trust, eventual forgiveness, flashbacks, maybe... a kiss???!
A/N: This is it! The last part of yet another series that started out as a very angsty one shot I had no real intention of writing more parts of. I hope you like this last part. Now all I need is to finish my long neglected Joel Soulmate series....
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part five of invisible string
Christmas was approaching.
The second Christmas you and your family would be spending in Jackson.
And with it a long to do list to make the holiday as perfect as it was possible in these times. The plan today was to prepare everything for the cookie bake session the next day at the community hall. Your alarm bleeped early and you reached over it blindly with a long groan that turned into a cough that shook your whole body.
Groaning you turned to lay on your back, your eyes blinking open.
Trying to take a deep breath through your nose gave you another cough attack, your throat hurting, your nose stuck.
„Fuck,“ you sighed, eyes closing.
„Mommy?“ There was a knock on the door. It was Ana.
„Mhhhhh?“ You sighed and the door opened. Your heard her footsteps coming to the side of your bed, your eyes opening. Smiling softly at her wearing the Christmas jumper Tommy had gotten for her and her brother only the week before. Patrol having found five boxes in the corner of an old store a couple weeks ago.
Her lips turned down as she looked at you.
„Are you okay Mom?“ She asked, frowning.
„I think I’m a little bit sick,“ you coughed, voice hoarse.
„Oh nooo,“ she said, about to crawl into bed with you when you heard the door downstairs open and Joel calling a loud Good Morning into the house.
„Daddy’s here,“ she cried out happily before she turned around, about to run out of your room, stopping at the door, looking at you.
„Get better soon,“ she smiled before she turned around and ran down the hallway, leaving you chuckling to yourself.
You must have fallen asleep again at some point, the sun already high up in the sky when your eyes blinked open the next time. You tried to take a deep breath which only ended in another coughing fit.
You looked around the room, surprised when you found a full bottle of water on your bedside table. Next to it was one of those herbal scent candles lighted you knew one of the nurses from the clinic made in her free time and you think you could scent the eucalyptus. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
„You’re awake,“ you were startled, your head turning towards the voice, finding Joel leaning in the doorway.
„Barely,“ you croaked and he hummed.
„I got the kids to school and I shovelled the snow in front of the house. I also started some chicken soup downstairs and Tommy will get some honey so I can make you your favourite tea,“ he said and a small smile sneaked to your face.
„You remember my favourite tea?“ You asked and he looked almost insulted.
„With the amount of times you asked me to keep an eye out for honey and lemon? You bet I do,“ he winked.
You still did not know how to react to him causally mentioning things like these.
The last almost two years had been a constant back and forth on your journey to learning to trust Joel again. And he was working hard to get you to trust him again.
You had talked. A lot.
Which was so unlike the Joel you had married in Boston. He answered every question you had and apologised over and over again until you told him to stop.
Deep down you had forgiven him a long time ago, and you told him so. Because it was hard to hold a grudge over someone who had such a big part in your life.
But that did not mean things could just go back to the way they were before.
Something he agreed on. He did not want to get back to how things were. Because the way he treated you was not how a husband should treat his wife. And if you’d give him a chance to show him how he wanted to treat you if you’d let him, he’d love to have one.
That was how family dinner started.
Once per week in your house.
Once in his house.
And occasionally at Tommy and Maria’s.
In the beginning your brother joined the dinners too, still not trusting Joel completely, at least not with you and his family.
Outside of that they became quite the patrol team, becoming partners. Calvin trusted Joel to have his back and vice versa. But it took longer to gain that trust when it came to you and the kids.
You actually had one of your biggest fights with your brother when you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that Joel was their father.
It was almost a year ago.
You could see the longing in Joel’s eyes every time he was looking at the two children.
And even though it scared the shit out of you to tell them the truth and let Joel into your life like that, you knew your kids life would be better with Joel as their father.
Because above all, Joel was a Dad.
He had spoken a lot to you about Sarah and how losing her made him lose the part of himself that kept him going. That kept him human.
He told you that he felt a little like that again when he met you, when you were together. But so many things had happened that made him fear for what would happen if you were taken from him too, that he always kept you at arms length. Even though all he wanted was to just love on you.
That part of him had died, or so he thought.
Loosing you for real had made him spiral so badly, he had woken up in the FEDRA hospital with no recollection of how he got there.
Apparently while drinking himself into a coma his heart had given out and he had a heart attack.
If it wasn’t for Tess coming to pick him up for a drop he would have died.
And it was only after then that he realised how much he was the problem in the situation he was in.
Which apparently did not mean he wanted to change.
No, things got even worse before they got better, but Joel did not want to go into detail about that.
It was only after he was tasked with taking Ellie to the fireflies, you knew she was immune by now, that he felt like he was starting to heal. It was her that did it, and he told you that he was sorry he could not do it for you. That you had to live with a shell of a man.
More than once he asked you how you could ever have fallen in love with him in the first place to which you only said
„The moment I first saw you I knew that you would be it for me. It was you or no one, Joel.“
And so, a week before Joel’s birthday you had sat him down and told him that you wanted to tell Ana and Leo that he was their father.
A news that was taken with big eyes and excited shouts of „I always wanted a Daddy!“ by both of your kids when you finally told them.
Yet when a month after Ana and Leo asked you if they could have a sleepover at their Daddy’s place you found yourself agreeing only reluctantly. Frankly, you did not know what to do with yourself when your kids weren’t around. Because ever since you had given birth to them, you were never apart for more than a couple of hours.
This would be two days.
You think it was the panic of being completely alone in your house that made you agree to meet up for dinner with Nick, Jackson’s dentist.
He was in his late forties and had been in Jackson for the last five years.
And it was only after almost an hour into the dinner that you realised that he thought this was a date. A date you had said yes to.
Internally panicking you had excused yourself with a very much not existent headache, making your way to Maria and Tommy’s where you and Maria had a glass of Jackson’s first red wine and a much needed talk which made you come to the realisation that the thought of dating, let alone being together with anyone other than Joel was so foreign to you that for some reason you let Maria talk you into an actual date with Nick.
It seemed logical to you after two glasses of wine.
Something you regretted by the time the date ended and you had allowed Nick to kiss you.
You felt absolutely nothing.
Thankfully he felt the same way.
What you did not know was that Joel had seen the two of you kiss. He had been on his way to the Bison to pick up leftover cake for the kids, Ellie was at home with Ana and Leo.
It was only when Tommy walked by, watching Joel stare at the spot you and Nick had long been gone from that Joel snapped out of his trance, the cake long forgotten as he walked back to his house.
He had asked you about it the next morning, wanting to know if he still had a chance to make things right with you.
And seeing him like that, almost desperate at the thought of having lost you for good, stirred something in you.
So in a move neither you or him had seen coming, you had kissed him.
It was just a quick peck, so quick you did not even realise it happened until after when you saw Joel’s surprised expression. He just looked down at you, his lips parted in surprise. You were torn if you wanted to run out for the door or if you wanted more. So you didn’t fight him when he pulled you closer, his arm hesitantly coming to wrap around your body, his face lowering to catch your lips in a kiss that would be consuming your every waking thought in the near future.
He kissed you like you were his oxygen, and it stirred something inside of you, you thought you had forgotten.
Joel moaned when you let your fingers scratch through his hair, his whole body seemingly jumping in surprise.
Parting from your lips, he rested his forehead against yours.
A tear slipped down his cheek as he smiled at you.
„I gotta pick up the kids from school,“ he whispered and you took a deep breath.
„I know,“ you whispered back.
He pecked your lips again, before he very reluctantly let go of you.
„See you at my place for family dinner later?“ He asked, to which you only nodded. He smiled, making you laugh when he walked straight into the wall behind him, cursing under his breath.
That day was three months ago.
And while you haven’t kissed since then, you and Joel got closer. As close as possible without actually being together.
Because there was a tiny part of your brain who was still wondering if the old Joel is lurking somewhere. If he would end up hurting you again once something happened that he could not deal with. If he would lash out like a wounded animal just to push you away again.
Though deep down the last almost two years had shown you that he had changed. He was…. Content. Happy even at times. Mostly when he was with you and the kids.
Ana and Leo asking if their Daddy could live with you was not helping either.
Because you craved it.
You craved having some… domestic normalcy in this crazy world. You wanted to come home to Joel. To have dinner with him and the kids every single day. You wanted to fall asleep in his arms. You wanted to wake up with him.
You just wanted to be with him.
The tiny part in your brain just needed to shut up and let you do your thing.
When you woke up the next time to a coughing fit, the sun was setting outside. Taking a deep breath, or as deep as you could manage, you sat yourself up with a groan. You went in the bathroom to do your business before you grabbed your fluffy bathrobe, Joels birthday gift to you, and slowly made your way downstairs.
You could hear Leo asking something when you made it down the stairs. Following his voice you walked towards the kitchen, a smile sneaking to your lips at the picture that you walked into.
Joel was sitting at the kitchen table together with Leo, Ana on his lap. He had his tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, as he helped Ana use one of the cookie cutters to make the perfect cookie, a big sheet of dough on the table.
Looking through the kitchen you could see that he must have prepared the whole dough that you had intended to make for the baking session tomorrow. There was a big pot on the stove which probably would be the chicken soup he mentioned earlier. And to top it all off it looked like he had fixed the blinds of the kitchen window.
„Mommy is awake,“ you heard Joel say and you looked back at your little family, sitting at the table.
Leo and Ana were grinning at you, just like Joel, all three showing the dimple in their cheeks.
„Are you feeling better mommy?“ Ana asked and you nodded.
„A little. I might feel even better after I eat something,“ you said and she nodded.
„You should have some of the soup Dad made. It’s super yummy,“ Leo perked up and you smiled.
„I think I will,“ you said, walking over. You were about to grab a bowl to put some soup in when you heard Joel get up.
„Sit. I’ll bring you some,“ he whispered as he walked by, his hand coming to rest on your hip as he did. You nodded, too tired to fight him before you walked and sat down at the table.
„Daddy made so much dough, we can make our own cookies,“ Ana said, carefully picking up the cookie she had just cut out, setting it down on the baking sheet.
„I didn’t even know Daddy could make dough. Or…. Cook anything really,“ you said.
„I have some hidden talents you do not know about,“ Joel winked as he sat a bowl of soup down you wish you could smell. It looked delicious and you gave him a small smile.
„You gotta tell me about those hidden talents some time,“ you said and he nodded with a mischievous grin.
„Will do. Now eat. You gotta get better,“ he said before he sat back down to make some more cookies.
This is what you wanted.
You wanted to have everyone you loved under one roof. You wanted Joel to never leave.
You were back in bed after dinner, reading your book when you heard a soft knock on your opened bedroom door. Looking up you found Joel there, looking at you.
„Kids are in bed. I’m gonna get them tomorrow morning too, so try to sleep the cold off and get better quickly. Wouldn’t want you to miss Christmas over this,“ he said.
You nodded softly.
„Okay. Then…. Good night,“ he said, about to leave.
„Joel?“ You asked and he stopped and looked at you.
„Yeah?“
„Would you… Would you mind staying?“ You asked quietly.
Concern washed over his face immediately, walking towards you.
„Are you feeling worse?“ He asked. He knelt down beside the bed with a groan, his hand coming to rest on your forehead. You shook your head, your hand taking his and pulling it down to rest against your cheek.
„I want…. I want you to stay. Here. With me. With us. I want us to be a real family. I want to fall asleep next to you every night. I… want you to be my husband. For real this time. Because I finally feel like I know you. All of you. And I… I love you,“ you said.
Joel just looked at you.
And when he didn’t say anything you were afraid you had waited for too long to completely forgive him. Your face fell and you were about to pull away when he kissed you, surprising you.
„I love you,“ he mumbled against your lips and you sighed relieved.
„I love you so much,“ he said and you carefully pushed him away.
„You gonna get sick,“ you warned and he huffed a teary laugh.
„I don’t care. Through sickness and in health, remember baby?“ He asked.
„We actually never said those vows,“ you reminded him and he hummed.
„That’s why I’m gonna ask you to marry me. For real this time. But not now,“ he said and your eyes widened, your head shaking.
„We are already married Joel. You don’t have to ask me.“
„Oh but I do. Because if we do this, I want to do this right. Fresh start. I wanna speak my vows in front of everyone who wants to listen because I will spend the rest of my life loving you the way I should have from the start,“ he said and you felt yourself tear up.
„But not now. Now I want you to get better so I can take you out to show you the surprise I’ve been working on,“ he said and you smiled.
„Surprise?“ You asked, he nodded.
„I have been working on a surprise for you and the kids, and it’s finally ready,“ he brushed his hand over your cheek.
„Now I wanna knowwww,“ you pouted and he smiled.
„You will,“ he promised.
„Joel?“
„Yeah?“
„Will you hold me?“ You whispered and his expression softened before he nodded.
Minutes later you were laying in bed, Joel behind you, his arms around you.
„Thank you for giving me another chance at loving you,“ he whispered against your ear.
„Don’t waste it,“ you hummed, already half asleep.
„I won’t,“ he promised before you both fell asleep.
#my fic#invisible string series#joel miller#joel miller x fem. reader#pedro pascal#fanfiction#fanfic#fan fiction#tlou fanfiction
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Concerned Sentences, Vol. 7
(Concerned sentences from various sources. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"Is everything okay? You seem annoyed about something."
"I don't know why you do this to yourself. You know it doesn't help anything."
"You need to stop reading the news. It's bad for you."
"Doing something rash isn't going to bring him back."
"No, you're not doing this! You're going to kill yourself!"
"I can take care of myself just fine, alright?"
"I appreciate this concern, but I'm not like you, alright?"
"Sometimes, I think you might have a penchant for self-pity."
"There are always unintended consequences to everything we do."
"Yearning won't make it happen."
"When exactly was the last time you had a psych evaluation?"
"You can't save everyone, no matter how hard you try!"
"There's only so much that you can do, and you've obviously reached the limit!"
"I just don't understand why you work so hard to be alone."
"To deny who you are is much more painful than confronting what you hate about yourself."
"You don't need to trust them, but you do need to trust me."
"You're desperate and scared, and desperate people make mistakes."
"Battle scars are not always of the body."
"Denial can be a very powerful thing."
"Things like this - all things, in fact - have consequences."
"You're lonely, and sometimes loneliness turns to bitterness."
"Sometimes there are scars than cannot be seen."
"The truth is, despite you're abilities, you're still just one man."
"How are you really in the grand scheme of things?"
"She's using you, just like all the others."
"Listen, I really want to keep this between you and me. Why don't you start by just telling me the truth?"
"You're a bit out of it tonight."
"You can't hide out here forever, you know. You have to go home sometime."
"This must be a lot for you to process."
"I've known you for a decade. I know your behaviour patterns and how you think. You acted very out of character today."
"You seem like you're making up for lost time."
"You've got to learn to be the hero of your own life again."
"Actually, I don't smoke. Neither should you."
"Why should an accident happen? Are you concerned for your safety?"
"This hero stuff is only going to get somebody hurt."
"You like fighting, don't you?"
"I came as soon as I saw the morning paper. I thought you might need a friend."
"There's something not quite right with you today, and I can't quite put my finger on it."
"You need to decide what you want. Stop dwelling on what you can't have."
"Do you need a hug?"
#rp meme#rp memes#roleplay meme#roleplay memes#rp prompts#roleplay prompts#sentence starters#assorted;#concerned;
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Inspired by a discord discussion.
I keep seeing characters from snowy places portrayed as unbothered by cold or missing it, and every time I remember that it's completely counterintutive if you didn't grow up in freezing temperatures
So I thought I should write this post.
We are very bothered by cold. We are way more bothered by cold than southerners. Being bothered is what keeps you safe. Warmth is a resource.
There are few lucky people who simply never get cold (mostly guys of endomorph body type) but it's not a given and generally northerners start to complain and wear warm coats at the tiniest hint of cold.
Humans can only adjust up to a certain threshold.
For example, Irish and British winters allow you to ignore weather almost completely (you'll be miserable but you'll probably live), so there's a culture of stoicism, not heating your house above 16-18°C (60-65°F), wearing shorts and sandals (and a Very Big Scarf) when it's snowing and all that.
(I quickly got used to leaving the bathroom window open at 4°C when I was living there. who cares really)
So there's a common misconception that you can do the same with even colder weather.
However, once you are past that adjustment threshold (for most people it takes as little as -5..0°C/23..32°F lasting for more than a month per year) there can be no special built-in resistance to that type of cold (unless you are a yogi or a Taoist monk), instead you learn a bunch of behaviours that help you. You start to preserve warmth religiously.
You also start to differentiate between types of being cold and avoid some of them (some build up over time and it wears you down, so it's best to avoid them entirely). Anything that drops your core temperature (this is noticeable long before you start shivering, shivering is the equivalent of fire alarm) is a huge no. Fingers getting a bit numb from building a snow castle is nothing major though.
It can be hard to unlearn that even if you moved to a warmer place years ago.
Stoic northern characters who have moved to a warmer country are very likely to Complain About The Cold.
They'll start wearing coats at higher temperatures than southerners (because, well, the weather might get worse, or you might stay outside longer than you planned, or move less).
They'll get cold hands more often because their body panics at the tiniest signs of cold and diverts blood to the centre (my first impression of the Irish was how warm everyone was when we shook hands. I'm the same now).
Most will heat their houses to the point where it's possible to walk around in a t-shirt no matter how cold it is outside (those who don't will comment "thank gods that people don't do that in your country, I hated it back home").
They'll whine at +5°C (40°F).
Apart from heavier clothes they'll have a bunch of weird habits like Walking Really Fast when the weather is bad (it's for when you don't want to wear heavier clothes).
They might have a fondness for scarves and good winter shoes (warm shoes and a warm hat are even more important than a warm coat. the lack of hats in fantasy upsets me. scarves are less important but they are pretty).
When locals get surprised they'll reply with "yes, but this is *damp* cold, *dry* cold is different" (it's more complicated than that but this answer usually stops further questions, so we go with that).
It's not like they are actually less cold-resistant, they just take cold more seriously.
At the same time they can be weirdly unbothered by things that freak some of the southerners out because they know how their body deals with low temperatures and which things have no consequences.
(it's not something that you learn from books, it's practical knowledge of what you personally can get away with. for example, I often get completely numb thighs during winter walks, takes an hour to start feeling anything when I get home. but I know it's all right as long as my feet are warm and my core temperature is within normal range)
They also won't suffer consequences when it gets truly cold, while more nonchalant southerners won't notice when they get borderline hypothermic or just cold enough to get sick.
They'll probably consider -30°C (-22°F) exciting. It becomes enjoyable again, because the outside world is now a death zone and there's some macabre fun in resisting it. Oh, and your eyelashes get covered in frost and it looks dope. What's not to like.
Kids will make a point to eat ice cream outside in -30°C (no, they won't get sick from it). I can't explain it, it just works like that.
Generally people from colder countries are not bothered by cold if they can return to a warm place soon enough, it's the prolonged exposure to cold (even mild) they are worried about. Going out for a smoke without a coat is common.
If they are still in a cold country, it's also a bit different from what you expect.
There's a trope of drinking to keep warm. It doesn't work like that. You can drink alcohol to feel warm but not to keep warm and it's an important difference. When it's cold your body's proper response is to constrict blood vessels and to divert blood flow from extremeties to slow down the loss of warmth. Alcohol reverts that.
This means it's perfectly appropriate to drink eggnog or mulled wine at a fair (when you are supposed to get to warmth soon enough, so the illusion of not being cold is not harmful) or hard spirits when you get back from the cold (it will help you warm up faster), but not if you are staying in a cold place. During a hike through winter woods a thermos with sweetened tea and fatty food are your best friends.
Some won't know it and get drunk and frostbitten/hypothermic. People are stupid.
Food gets weird, fats start to seem even tastier than usual. People in Antarctic expeditions are known to crave sticks of butter. In certain weather sandwiches with frozen lard are delicious.
Anything can and will be made into tea.
Some tropes I personally disagree with.
Pain. Pain levels depend on the weather. Cold eases any kind of external pain (cuts or burns) but makes worse anything internal (broken bones, cramps, most headaches).
Hypothermia feels nothing like peacefully falling asleep. It's the most miserable state I've ever experienced, psychological trauma doesn't even come close.
Well, maybe there are people who do fall asleep but other people I've talked to seem to share my experience.
I'm not sure how exactly it works, I think it messes up your self-regulation, since most chemicals in your body require a certain temperature range to work properly. Basically you become Not Yourself. Your emotions go whack (usually it's either extreme self-pity or extreme anger). It feels awful. I hope you never get to experience it.
Most of us don't really miss cold.
Well, some perverts do, but there's a general consensus that cold is awful.
We do miss some things that only happen during cold days though. The stillness and the quiet or how pretty snow looks. How bright the stars are on a clear night. The colour of sunsets and twilight sky when it's freezing.
(in my opinion, the best experience happens around -5°C, it's already pretty but the world is not a death zone yet)
There's also an appreciation of contrast with things that are Not Snow.
Walking from the cold into a greenhouse with orchids.
Watching a blizzard rage outside your window while you sit in warmth with a cup of tea.
Jumping into a lake straight out of a sauna (then going back. do not do that if you have a heart condition).
Fireplaces. Holiday food. Mulled wine. Saffron in pastry.
There's also a lot of beauty in the world that is frozen. I keep stumbling upon the fact no one around me shares these experiences anymore and it saddens me.
The xylophone sound of first ice being broken by a passing boat.
Sea moving under the ice — when it's not too thick it rises and falls like some large animal breathing.
The whale-song-like sounds of ice cracking on large lakes.
There's a very special mood of waiting for first snow. The world is too cold and dark without it and then you wake up one night from the sudden quietness (snow muffles all sounds) and you know it's there even before you look out of the window,
There's the exhiliration of spring. The moment when the wind starts to have a scent — thawing snow smells a bit like watermelons but clearer. Winter smells like nothing at all.
The first tiny yellow flowers in mud. They are our hanami.
(I don't think anyone in Europe truly appreciates spring if they are not from Nordic or Baltic countries)
There's a certain attunement to the scent of ice too.
Like that barely perceptible tingle in the air in late September, long before you can see any ice.
I feel the scent of ice when there's wind from the right part of the Atlantic. No one ever notices but it's there. I love it.
It's nostalgic in a way.
But it's never missing the cold itself for me. For very few people it is, I think.
*
This is, of course, personal perspective and my experience is not universal. I'm a person from continental climate with harsh winters and hot summers and a city dweller with occasional visit to country houses and a tiny bit of mountaineering experience.
An indigenous person from a place with barely any summer or a character from a fantasy everwinter country will probably differ from me.
There are, after all, simply people who genuinely love cold. A lot of them. It is, however, not the default northerner's experience.
But hey, it's still more complex than it's usually written.
*
If you want to read something focused on winter descriptions, there's Smilla's Sense of Snow by Peter Høeg.
It's hauntingly beautiful prose and the main character is from Greenland.
‘It’s freezing, an extraordinary -18 °C, and it’s snowing, and in the language which is no longer mine, the snow is qanik – big, almost weightless crystals falling in stacks and covering the ground with a layer of pulverized white frost.’
And then there's Moominland Midwinter. I think it gets better when you read it as an adult and it's probably still the best thing I have ever read about winter solstice.
Anyway.
I think we need more good winter stories.
#'the centre of the universe is always warm' says one of our poets#and I still live by that#writing#snow
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