#employee hearing tests | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heavenbarnes · 4 months

Text

I wanna make it (so badly)

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: reader is AFAB with she/her pronouns, swearing, inappropriate employer/employee relationship, dry-humping, a lot of heavy petting, implied age gap, effective-infidelity (reader tested, tashi approved), oral sex (f!receiving), art is a bit of a pervert and mega-pathetic (endearing), references to religion (worship).

Word Count: 5.8k

i white knuckled the steering wheel on the way home from this film thinking about art donaldson- this is, essentially, an ode to that

Youth tennis lessons, $20/h, call for details

Finding work was hard, keeping work was harder.

Cleaning, baby-sitting, pet-sitting, pet-walking. There was virtually nothing you hadn't tried.

Odd jobs, odd hours, and the occasional odd employer.

You'd played tennis for the last couple years of college. Nothing remotely competitive but you and your friends had looked cute in the skirts and they'd give you whole hours out of class to play.

You were above average with a good arm and better patience.

Another odd job to add to your growing list.

You'd been particular about where you'd posted the ads, the neighbourhoods you'd chosen. Only the ones with manicured lawns and white picket fences.

Tacking the paper to boards in upmarket cafes, fancy supermarkets, ladies-only gyms.

The kind of people that want their kids playing tennis and could find their way to increase your pay- if you did well.

You always did very well.

So your little car looked a little out of place in this neighbourhood, fingers holding the scribbled post-it note with the address. Your scrawling handwriting detailing the "Donaldson's" were enquiring within.

Pulling up outside the house, you had a quiet inkling that you might've been out of your depth. Whoever owned this house deserved more than an above-average-ex-college-student that only learnt the sport to spend time with friends.

But they'd requested you, you'd have to let them come to that conclusion on your own.

Your knuckles only hit the door once before it was being swung open by someone that looked destined to be a security guard, like he'd come out the womb with his future decided.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

He'd left you in the "formal lounge" to sit smack-bang in the centre of a couch that wouldn't even fit in the lobby of your apartment building- let alone the apartment itself.

As you admired a painting on the wall that you'd only ever seen in books, high heels on the stone floors made you jump in your seat.

The most beautiful woman you might ever see in your life appeared before you and said your name in a way that had you standing from your seat.

Your face faltered just enough that you hoped she didn't notice. There was something about her that told you she noticed everything.

Fuck me, that's Tashi Duncan.

If you know a thing about tennis (or even just watched the news) you know exactly who this woman is. You remember her more from your childhood but you remember her all the same.

The woman that once held the world by the balls.

She apologised for her husband's absence, that he was busy. It wasn't lost on you that the "husband" she casually referred to was Art Donaldson, US Open champion.

The Donaldson's.

Ah fuck.

Tashi went on the explain that they were wanting to begin lessons for their daughter Lily. You assumed this was the one you could hear running circles around the informal lounge.

"With all due respect, am I not the least qualified person in this home for that?"

You watched a perfectly formed cheekbone lift in what was nearly a smile. Strangely enough, something in the pit of your chest was dying to make her do that again.

There was something about her that demanded to be impressed.

You were no exception to the rule.

"My husband and I have seen some of your matches, we liked what we saw."

How? Your 'matches'- if you can even call them that, were nothing of note. You don't even think faculty bothered to watch them. You weren't quite sure why they'd even recorded them.

A silly part of you began to wonder how they'd even got a hold of them- until you remembered who they were.

The Hermes and Peitho of tennis.

"You did? I always thought of myself as more of a casual player."

"And that's what we liked, we know better than anyone how brutal tennis can become. We want someone to help Lily enjoy the game."

Oh, okay then.

You'd made a quasi-college-career out of purely enjoying the game. You were sure you could foster the same spirit for the six-year-old performing the entire 'Encanto' soundtrack in the other room.

Tashi laid down a tight schedule, Monday to Friday, 3pm to 6pm. You would teach Lily the wonders of the game on the court behind their home.

Their home you'd come to find out was a luxury rental when you'd complemented Tashi on another of the art pieces that'd apparently come with the place.

You'd also come to find out they typically live in hotel rooms, but they'd settled in this area for the time being as Art had a good thing going with a regular playing schedule and a sporting-goods deal.

You nodded along like you could begin to understand a life like that.

As she showed you back to your car (the one you suddenly felt humiliated for her to see you own), she called your name one last time from the doorway.

"You undersell yourself, we'll give you eighty an hour."

She left you choking on your tongue with one foot in the car and the other on an Italian cobblestone.

You were never going to walk or sit another dog again.

Lily was going to win her first Grand Slam by ten if that's what they'd pay you.

As your peeled your car from their turn-around area, you watched a Jeep Wrangler slow as it passed you. You couldn't see through the tint but you just knew it was him.

And you knew he was watching you.

The minute you'd told your roommate the situation you'd come into, she'd called bullshit.

A few texts from Tashi's now saved icon and a weird little photo you'd taken from inside the guest bathroom, it'd been enough to convince her.

"Fucking hell, are you God's favourite or something?"

You'd argue you were quite the opposite, she of all people should know. She'd seen some of the states you'd come home in after your other random jobs.

Felt good to be the winner.

Even just once.

In the air of some girlish fascination, she brought up a Youtube video of "Tashi Duncan Career Highlights" courtesy of "tennisguy779."

You'd protested it, rolling your eyes while feigning disinterest. No use, the minute you caught her out the corner of your eye- you were captivated.

It was entirely possible to imagine she hovered above the court, like there was a greater force placing her exactly where she needed to be, exactly when she needed.

It was even easier to believe she was just that good.

As you watched her play, listened to the sounds the game could draw from her- you wondered if this was how she and Art had felt.

Had they curled up in their informal lounge like you were right now? Had Tashi studied your every move meticulously like you assume? Had Art passed comment on your form? Did he think you were any good?

Tennisguy779's lineup changed quickly to "Art Donaldson Career Highlights" and you felt your chest constrict. An inexplicable feeling washed over you.

Like you'd been caught with God's forbidden fruit.

Your roommate had tried to question why you'd effectively flown off the couch, only to be met with a muttered 'goodnight' as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

Thin walls meant you drifted off to sleep that night with the rhythmic sounds of Art, grunting his way through an ATP Challenger.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

The Donaldson's tennis court was down a steep set of stairs, set back into an oasis of lush greenery.

Perfect for a 6-year-old's first lessons.

You didn't know if it was the grand balcony that overlooked the court or the fact a well-manicured Tashi stood atop it, but you felt positively observed.

Lily was in the midst of showing you how she could do a cartwheel (she couldn't) when the voice in the back of your head started echoing a promise of $80/h.

"Alright, lets channel some of that into your elbow."

Give a six-year-old a racquet half the size of her and she's going to blow effective chunks, but at least she has the spirit. Maybe it's her energy, maybe it has been a while since you've been on the court-

The kid's running you ragged.

Coupled with her height, you're spending more time bent over than you are up straight and it's all going to your head. All you can hope is Tashi isn't up there watching you stumble after the ball.

But you're sure there are eyes on your back.

Lily is a quick learner and you work out a tradeoff of one tennis skill for one spinning heel kick (mandatory that you watch).

Roll on 6pm and she's dog-tired, however, she's managed to hit the ball at least twice. Surely that's earned your keep. She lays star-fished on the turf and murmurs something about a piggyback.

You know you're about to earn your keep.

By the top of the staircase, you're more than happy to hand over a Lily-shaped-sack-of-potatoes to Tashi's mother. As you emerge from behind an ornate gargoyle, your suspicions proved correct.

Art Donaldson had been watching your every move.

Left alone on the balcony with him, you're acutely aware of the fact he's standing between you and your exit, and he's just had a full show of you bent over and flitting about his tennis court.

That and you still haven't said so much as 'hello' to the man.

You dwell on it for a moment and then there's that feeling back in the pit of your stomach, like any minute you'll be caught with fruit in hand- in throat.

The Original Sin.

Luckily, Art made the decision for you, crossing the space to shake your hand. If he noticed the way your hand trembled, he didn't seem to mind.

"It's nice to finally meet you."

You wished you had more to say to him, or maybe something more intelligent. Something better than a quiet "and you."

He was the better conversationalist, thankfully. Head motioning to the court, he looked down his nose at you when he spoke.

It should've felt condescending. It didn't.

"How did she go out there?"

"Yeah, really good- not a Disney character I can't name now."

He laughed.

Really laughed, like the joke was better than it was.

Like there was a preening little flutter inside you that said "do it again!"

You shrugged your shoulders like making him happy came naturally as you squinted up at him, as if he was the sun.

"You were watching? You must've seen her picking it up?"

Because he was the expert. Because he is the champion.

He hummed as he nodded, eyes skywards like there might've been something more important behind the clouds.

"Must've been distracted."

Within an instant- his eyes flickered to your own and you were sure he watched them change. He must've seen something he liked, the corner of his lip quirked up before he spoke again.

"Come on, I'll sort your payment and then we'll let you get home."

And for whatever reason, his hand fit perfectly in the small of your back as he lead you inside.

And how quickly did you become a strange piece of furniture in the Donaldson's home- in their life?

An ottoman for Tashi to rest her tired feet on.

An abstract piece on the wall for Art to admire when he passes it.

A projection of constellations across the ceiling to keep Lily bright behind the eyes.

At least you belonged- there was no doubt that this was where you belonged.

That wasn't to say your tennis skill had improved any, lesson after lesson you still couldn't wrap your head around why they'd even signed you on, let alone kept you.

"Ok, don't watch that one either- maybe just do what I say and not what I do."

You hadn't nailed a single one, at this point you couldn't blame Lily for skipping around pretending her racquet was a horse.

Wasn't like she'd be learning anything if she was paying attention.

"Ok, here we go just- ok right, when your parents ask how today went, please be kind."

"Your elbow is too low."

It was a miracle you didn't scream.

Art entered the court with a swagger that you could only assume struck fear when he was your opponent.

Right now it struck pure embarrassment and Lily wasn't helping.

"Daddy, she didn't hit a single one!"

"Alright, I don't think daddy needs to know that-"

"Daddy knows, daddy's been watching."

Daddy really needs to stop calling himself that.

Lily and her racquet took off for another tour of The Grand National as Art approached you with quiet determination.

It was like waiting for impact, his eyes never wavered off his daughter as he made towards you. At the last moment, he snapped his attention in your direction- with a smile that should've felt condescending.

It wasn't.

"If your elbow is too low you lose topspin and power."

If you deserved the $80/h you were earning, you might've known that.

As Art stepped up to you, the turn of the planets on their axis slowed down and it could've been entirely possible to believe it was only you two.

And Lily upon her trusty steed.

The gallops of her tennis shoes thinned out as Art placed one hand around your elbow, lifting it higher. His other hand held your waist as he pulled your back flush to his chest.

"Lily, go find grandma."

Then it really was just you two.

Your heart hammered against the shell of your ribcage, blood rushing around your ears as you felt Art's chin perch at your shoulder.

"If your elbow is high enough," His hand lifted it up and you let it stay there. "And your hip is turned."

He didn't have to say it with the gravel in his voice, but he did. He didn't have to hold your hips as he moved them, but he did. He didn't have to stay without so much of an inch between the two of you, but he did.

With one hand in the curve of your waist, he tossed the ball into the air with the other- then he whistled.

Like the obedient thing you didn't know you were, you raised the racquet and sent the ball flying through the air without even blinking.

As the streak of green hit the court and rolled away, you found yourself lying in wait, as if you were waiting for something- your next command?

"Good girl."

There it was.

Under the all consuming effect that Art Donaldson just seemed to have on people, you'd entirely forgotten you were in a position you could be 'caught' in. By his all consuming wife, of all people.

So, you should've moved.

Quite honestly you should've straightened up and cleared your throat and thanked him and told him it was time for you to go home.

You should've moved.

But Art wasn't moving. If anything he was staying purposefully still at your backside.

Obedient thing you seem to be.

"Show me that again?"

So,

You teach Lily the bare basics of tennis for three hours and receive $80 on the hour.

Then Art spends three hours of his spare time teaching you to perfect your swing- in a way that couldn't ever vaguely resemble professional.

A simple transactional arrangement.

Your tennis improves on a slow but sure basis and he gets the most off-court action he's seen since college.

Even if it is just heavy petting on astro-turf.

A hand under the hem of a tennis skirt. A pressing hip against your own. A deep breath as your hair brushes past him.

You figure Art will take what he can get.

And it's never enough to raise alarm. Sure, there's that fluttering in your chest that warns you might get 'caught' but you're never quite sure what one might 'catch' if they found you out.

It's undoubted who that 'one' is though.

The one who holds the cards- holds the throat, maybe.

Tashi, who's presence precedes her perhaps more than her reputation. Even when she isn't there, she's there.

So, when Art's hand lingers too long on the outside of your thigh and you think you can feel it verging into the territory that'll change everything- it's Tashi on your mind.

You're beginning to think your conscience sounds a lot like Tashi.

Who are you if not obedient to the Donaldson's?

Chasing Lily around a court.

Adhering to Tashi's every request.

Being Art's fantasy.

Being Art's.

Most of the time, anyway. Three hours a week.

Something to keep him bright behind the eyes, maybe. Something to keep him happy. Something to keep him-

Winning?

He tells you he plays better with you around. The way he says it makes you giggle, a girlish little noise that sort of just slips out. He serves the ball with his eyes on you and, sure enough, it lands smack where he wanted it too.

Everything where he wants it. When he wants it.

Shy and inconsequential touches and glances shared just between you.

Until, well- until they weren't.

"Would you like a coffee?"

Tashi's mother had taken Lily off to bed, leaving you and Art separated by an island. Kitchen island.

He braced both palms against it as he watched you watch the door, wondering if you should cut and run, wondering if someone else might come through it.

Talking yourself out of it. Whatever it might be.

"Yes please."

Even he looked surprised, brows raising an inch as he turned to the Nespresso machine. You took the moment to watch his back, the muscles moving under the cool-dry fabric of his shirt.

You spent all your time pretending not to notice him that actually allowing yourself the chance to study him made you lightheaded.

Had he always looked this captivating?

He broke your focus with a coffee cup, sliding it towards you as he rounded the bench. His eyes didn't even waver off you as he took a sip of his own.

It wasn't lost on you that he managed to tongue foam off the tip of his nose.

This was the longest you'd stuck around after a tennis lesson, longest you'd allowed yourself to be in his presence. You weren't quite sure how big this thing could get.

Your mouth was opening before your brain had decided it was a good idea.

"Mr. Donaldson-"

"Art."

"Uh, Art- I really appreciate the help you've been giving me- uh, you know- with tennis."

He placed his coffee mug down, nodding as he did it. "My pleasure."

Naturally.

That brain of yours was still firing off at a mile a minute. There was a very tiny voice right at the back that said it was up to you how this night would end- you had a choice to make.

Placing your coffee mug beside his, you scanned his face to find him already looking at you. Perhaps the choice was already set.

Maybe it was fate.

All he said was your name, it could've been the way he said it- but your whole body was losing the rigidity it'd formed when he first asked you to stay longer. When he'd made the choice.

Crossing the small gap between you two, Art was careful to keep one hand on the kitchen bench as the other hovered beside you. Not touching you,

Yet.

One step closer and the tip of Art's nose was touching yours. You think you might've been able to smell the coffee off his breath.

It thinned out- leaving you with his sweat. Musk. Art.

A sudden surge of morals overcame you, your voice broke out as a gasp.

"What about Mrs. Donaldson?"

"Actually, it's still Duncan."

You screamed.

Right in his face.

Tashi's voice made you jump out of your skin.

However, Art didn't move. As you turned your head to gauge the way his wife stalked across the kitchen, you felt his nose brush against your cheek.

Tashi retrieved a tall bottle of Pellegrino from the fridge, taking a poignant sip as her eyes flitted between the two of you.

What a fucking sight.

Her husband, eyes shut and face pressed pathetically to their daughter's tennis instructor- his hands itching to close around your waist.

You, young and bleary eyed looking utterly caught. Staring up at her like she might decide your fate.

It took all your strength to find your words.

"I’m not here to teach tennis, am I?”

“No, of course not. You’re frankly terrible at tennis.”

There's the Tashi you were expecting.

Her words should've stung, but they didn't. They couldn't, not when her husband was laying his hands against your back and rubbing soothing circles down the length of your spine.

Not when his lips were mouthing wet kisses along your cheek.

Not when she was right. Spade's a spade.

"Why am I here?"

She snorted, a real dissatisfactory sound- like she hoped you were smarter than that. She was halfway to her bedroom before she cut you loose.

"Careful, he makes that sound before he cums."

And he had, just like she'd said.

Art had cum in his shorts, pressed up against your thigh with his face still smushed against your own.

And you'd taken it, obedience in spades.

You'd stood there and let him hump your leg like a bad dog and you'd even pat his head and whispered kind words in his ear after the mess he'd made.

Then you slipped out the front door to your car and you'd pretended not to notice that there were two bedroom lights on upstairs.

You hadn't even divulged the freaky details to your roommate when you got home.

But the showerhead knew all about them.

Visions of Art on the clouds of steam- replayed in your head the sounds he'd made right in your ear.

How he'd whimpered your name when he splashed his boxers like a fucking teenager.

It was no surprise you dreamt of him.

You even showed up next day, valiantly. You didn't run for the hills or even straight to a tabloid about how weird the Donaldson's really were.

And maybe that's why you hadn't told your roommate either.

Because telling someone what Tashi allowed? What Art liked?

That'd mean you'd have to admit your dirty little secret.

You loved it.

When you showed up, something was different. No usual chatter in the house, no shoes by the front door. You checked out the front window to see what you'd missed when you arrived.

Tashi's car was gone.

"She's taken her mom and Lily to the ballet."

At least you didn't scream this time.

You were lucky your back was to him, lest he see the self-righteous little smile that broke when the words settled.

"Oh, ok."

"I'll see you on the court."

Oh, ok.

Lest he see the disappointment that took over.

Following him close behind, you didn't know why you were effectively surprised that he still wanted to continue with your lessons. You'd half expected- hoped, he'd bend you over the kitchen island.

Tennis was fun too, you guess.

Thinking about it, something that bold didn't seem the style of the man who'd nearly blacked out rubbing up on you. Beckoning you onto the tennis court with two fingers and a wry smile did, however.

You fell into your usual position, hip turned and elbow curved on your side of the court. You waited for him to appear behind you, chest melding into the curve of your back.

It never came.

Art took long strides towards the net, vaulting it in one smooth motion. He ended up parallel to you, waiting with a ball and racquet in either hand.

The smile had left his face, a rather blank expression taking over as he sized you up. And there was that fear- knowing what it felt like to be on the wrong side of him.

This was going to hurt.

From the moment he pressed the ball to the neck of his racquet, it was all over. Your feet were never in one place for more than a second, your arms burned above you, your head permanently on a swivel.

Art didn't look like he'd broken more than a sweat.

You knew he had, you could see it in the neck of his shirt. But he didn't look it.

He looked calm, he looked in control, he looked-

Like he was enjoying himself.

For every rally that you managed, you thought you saw an inkling of pride set in his features.

For every serve that you missed, you knew you saw unbridled lust.

Not a point scored in your favour, you hit the ball towards him one last time before you collapsed to the turf. Flat on your back, reminiscent of your first lesson here.

You watched the clouds shift over your head, listening to your pulse thick and fast in your ears. Just underneath it, you could hear footfalls approaching.

No hurry, but impending.

Soon, the sun above you was eclipsed by Art Donaldson. His golden hair shone with the halo of light behind it.

Now this was God's favourite.

"You can't be giving up this easily?"

Forcing a laugh, you threw your arm up and over your eyes. "Wanna bet?"

Turns out he did- turns out Art struggled to do anything but win.

Somehow, you found it within yourself to stand back up. This time it was only a practice, you weren't brave enough to face off against him another round.

This was more your speed.

The hand that wasn't holding your elbow was curving around your front, the pleats of your tennis skirt lifting over his fingers. You felt a warm hand slowly moving across the front of your underwear.

Two fingers migrated south, pressing against the seam of you- he must've felt the pure heat radiating beneath his fingertips.

Turning your head even an inch, you found the curve of his nose pressing into your cheek.

"I didn't give up."

He hummed, the vibration rolled across your shoulders.

"Mmm, you didn't."

The hand sans-racquet dropped between your thighs to press his palm into your cunt. It was Art who flexed your fingers and cupped it.

"Where's my prize?"

There was no trophy, no podium, no medal.

But there was Art between your legs, slinging a knee over each shoulder like he might've been the real winner.

You'd never been inside the 'changing shed' behind the court, of course it was nicer than your actual home.

Your head made contact with the hard wood behind you, bench digging into your ass as you felt a hot mouth moving against the seat of your underwear.

Running your fingers through his hair, your gripped the ends of it- tugging him closer until you felt the flat of his tongue through the thin fabric.

Needy fingers tugged the ruined garment down your thighs, tucking him into the pocket of his shorts. You knew all too well that you'd never see them again.

You were sure Art would be seeing a lot of them.

His tongue ran up the split, one long stroke before you felt the curve of his nose press to your clit. The ridge of it moved as his tongue retreated back to your entrance.

With everything he had.

Your eyes had been rolling back in your head as you arched your back, the moment you were able to find a semblance of control- your gaze fell before you.

Naturally, Art was already looking up at you. Two hands splayed across each side of your hips as he pulled back to wrap his lips around your clit.

You couldn't help the hazy little smile on your face as you watched his eyes.

Utterly devotional.

The more you tugged on his hair, the hungrier he seemed. Pulling from the root seemed to spur him on, seemed to tell him 'good job' and he was responsive.

His tongue flicked beneath your clit, pressing it to his upper lip as he brought two fingers to your entrance. He stroked a couple times, making your hips twitch against him, before he sunk in to the last knuckle.

Turns out Art had a style about him. One he brought to the tennis court and, seemingly, to the floor of his changing shed.

The style was calculated.

Every move he made was engineered to get something out of you- a reaction, a whimper, a twitch. He was doing what he did best.

Playing a game.

Art struggled to do anything but win.

"Fuck- Mr. Donaldson."

"Art."

Even muffled against your cunt, you were good at following his orders. Even more so when he was the decider of your imminent orgasm.

You threaded your fingers in the sides of his hair, pulling his face flush against you so you could ride his mouth. Taking every last thing from him you could.

It drew the most pathetic moan you'd ever heard, straight out of his chest and hit you straight at your core. The burning coil tight within your stomach was unraveling quickly.

You heard the murmurings of words, among the blood rushing in your ears. Easing up just enough, you let him pull back to speak.

"Tell me this feels good, please."

Your chest thumped, the sight of Art helpless between your legs was one thing. Hearing him beg?

You might black out.

"Art- you feel so fucking good," Dragging him right back where you needed him, the tip of his tongue drove against your clit. "You're gonna' make me cum."

He whined.

A heady drawn-out sound that quite literally sent you over the edge. Your hips lifted off the bench, the heel of your foot digging into his back and making his whine turn into a whimper.

Your orgasm broke you apart until it felt like white-hot flame licking up your sides. Of course, Art never relented, drinking in everything you could give him- literally.

The moment you felt the peak begin to subside, the urge was ramping right back up. Like he knew what he was doing, his eyes locked back onto yours as he sucked at your clit.

He was going for gold.

A quick second orgasm hit, seemingly out of nowhere. Your thighs clenched around Art's head, his hands coming to each of them.

You relaxed yourself a bit, feeling like it might be too much- until you felt him pressing your thighs even harder to either of his ears.

Oh, ok.

Art Donaldson knew what he liked.

You physically had to push him off you, watching him fall back on his outstretched palms as you let yourself breathe for what felt like the first time.

Wet eyes, wet chin, chest rising and falling like he'd run a marathon- Art sat sprawled out before you like he'd stumbled upon an alter (he had).

Breathless, you gestured towards him. Your hand dropped a little as your eyes fell between his legs, wordlessly offering a deal.

A deuce.

His cheeks flushed, more so than they already were. His eyes fell an infinitesimal amount before he spoke up.

"Uh- I already have."

Of course he had. He makes that sound before he cums.

Instead, you heard him shuffle back onto his knees as he all but crawled towards you. He draped his upper half into your lap, head resting against the soft cotton of your skirt.

Coming off the other side of a high, the reality of your situation began to settle for you. Why they'd really called you here- what purpose you really served.

All you could do was gently stroke a hand across Art's head, feeling him go limp against you. Boneless, but not spineless.

He must've known you were going to speak, he must've heard the intake of breath or just felt you shift. He cut you to the chase- beat you to the punchline.

Art nuzzled his face further into your lap as you felt him mumble against your thigh.

"I can't lose- you."

#art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x reader fic #challengers fic #art donaldson fic #challengers smut #art donaldson x fem reader #art donaldson x fem!reader

6K notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 4 months

Text

i read the recent wired article about the ocean gate titanic sub and i think the most understatedly eyebrow raising aspect of that whole debacle honestly is that the ceo seems to have been personally manning half their unsafe deep sea dives... like usually in a story like this it turns out the people at the top were brushing off safety concerns because they knew they personally could avoid consequences and were willing to risk their employees and customers. and im sure there were some people at ocean gate doing that. but stockton rush was as far as i can tell genuinely convinced of his own genius corner cutting engineering hacks to the point where he kept manning these vessels even after tests where they were failing and warnings from university labs and boeing engineers and hearing the hull make ominous creaking sounds while he himself was piloting it like... man with zero survival instincts to a point seldom seen in wealthy startup assholes who absolutely have the financial wherewithal to save their own necks

5K notes · View notes

elliewithcellie · 4 months

Text

Protector

summary: After months working for the BAU, your harbored feelings for your boss seem unrequited until your hunt for the unsub goes awry. (hotch x fem!reader)

wc: 9.8k (oh my god)

cw: slow burn, boss/employee dynamic, age gap pairing, criminal minds level violence, mention of alcoholism, implication of father issues, hurt/comfort, reader gets hurt, fluff, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), oral (f receiving), p in v sex, Hotch is a professional at heart and takes work boundaries seriously

a/n: Back in the saddle with a new man to hyper-fixate on. Hotch can GET IT. Also, let me know if anyone wants the SFW version I'm working on

“Looks like we’re doubling up,” Hotch announced, a sigh escaping his lips.

Before you could even process his words, the rest of the team sounded off, choosing their roommates for the duration of the case. All that remained were you and your boss. With the team dispersing, you awkwardly shifted your duffle bag to your other shoulder and looked up at Hotch.

His stern expression didn’t change as he looked back at you. “Come on. We’re 202.”

You followed him to the elevators, still unsure what to think. This was not only your boss but someone you had garnered quite a fondness for since you joined the BAU. Of course, you had managed yourself professionally thus far, but you were sure this was going to test your limits.

You understood the immediate pairings among the rest of the team. You were still fairly new, not quite to the rapport that the team had formed with each other. But it also made you think about how no one chose Hotch. The pressure to be Unit Chief also had to be lonely.

The elevator chimed, and the two of you shuffled in. You kept to yourself, trying to maintain composure. The lift from the first floor to the second felt like an hour, the silence deafening. You couldn’t shake your nerves. The doors opened, and he stepped out. You quickly followed.

Hotch opened the door and allowed you in first. The two double beds, office chair, mini fridge, and small bathroom were all less comforting to you than normal.

“Do you mind if I take the bed by the door?” Hotch asked, his voice softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, stirred from your preoccupation. “Yeah, of course. I like the window side anyway.”

“Thank you. If you’d like, you can have the shower first. I’d like to call Jack before he heads to bed.”

“Sounds good.”

You began to unpack your belongings and sighed in dismay. You had assumed that you would have a room to yourself as usual, so your pajamas were a little more revealing than you’d prefer your boss to see. Still, a t-shirt and shorts were reasonable sleep attire, so you tried not to dwell on it. You collected your things as Hotch dialed a number on his phone.

“Hey, buddy, how was your day?”

You smiled to yourself as you entered the bathroom. His “dad” voice was more upbeat, yet calm and soothing. With Hotch distracted on the phone, you could relax in the shower. The boiling water stung your skin, just the way you needed it. As you relaxed, you realized how silly it was for you to stress over the rooming situation. Hotch was here to do his job, just like you. And other than his intelligence, his kindness, and his fierce compassion for kids, you were sure you were only infatuated with him.

You finished up your shower and towel-dried your hair once you could no longer hear his muffled voice through the door. You were desperate not to waste Hotch’s time. With your hair still wet and your large t-shirt hanging over your shorts, you timidly exited the bathroom back to your bed, on your toes as if you were sneaking around. Hotch sat on his bed, his coat jacket now on the desk chair. He flipped through channels with the remote in one hand and loosened his tie with the other.

“All yours,” you spoke, struggling to get the words out.

Hotch looked up at you and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” He gathered up his things and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Another sigh of relief left your lips. You grabbed the book from your duffle and climbed into bed. You rolled over to turn on the lamp next to you and began to read, but before you knew it, sleep overtook you.

------

“Hotchner.”

You woke up to Hotch answering his phone. The sky was still dark. The only light illuminating the room was the alarm clock. You realized that you hadn’t turned off the lamp before you fell asleep, nor did you place your book carefully on the side table with a hotel pen as the bookmark.

“Alright. Yes. Right. Understood. We’ll be right over.”

You looked up at Hotch expectantly. He looked at you, then averted his eyes as he got out of bed. “Another young girl missing. She’s only 16.” He paced the floor for a moment, a short-lived break from the stoic leader he always has to be.

“I’ll call the others,” you said sitting up. His eyes returned to yours, the strain turning into relief. He only nodded and headed for the closet, suiting up right there.

You called the others and followed suit, leaving the hotel parking lot by 3:46 am.

------

The next 18 hours were long, stressful, and only moderately successful. The team was able to work out an arrangement with the kidnapper before their 24 hours were up. The girl, Heather, was returned to her parents with only a few bruises. But the kidnapper got away, practically goading you all at the ability to remain anonymous. The team was exhausted and out of ideas.

The team drove back to the hotel without a single word exchanged. The kidnapper’s voice rang in your head. He was so confident, arrogant even. There was almost never a moment where he fumbled over his words or cracked. His ruse lasted for hours. But he got sloppy in the end, fessing up to her location just enough for Garcia to triangulate. But something wasn’t adding up to you: his willingness to run instead of killing her when he had the chance.

Hotch spoke up, stirring you from your ruminations. “We need to start from scratch. Reid, give us a rundown on what, where, and why.”

“Well, we know his victims are all young women now ranging from 16 to 23. They come from middle to upper-class families. He sends messages to the families always demanding ransom within 24 hours. Three women have been killed, and now two have survived. The strange part is whether or not he stays truthful to his word. The parents have always given him what he wants, but then it’s up to his discretion whether he follows through.”

“Based on these girls,” Prentiss interjected, “this guy’s intelligent. He prides himself on the ability to get away with this.”

“That’s good,” Hotch said, eyes still on the road. “But why work with us sometimes and not others?

The SUV hummed as its passengers sat in silence.

You decided to speak up. “Prentiss said he prides himself on the ability to get away with this, right?” Everyone sat still, expectant for you to continue. “We’re looking at this the wrong way. This isn’t a sadist who gets off on killing. This isn’t a psychopath with a compulsion. This is a narcissistic sociopath who has been evading capture for weeks now. This is a game to him. It’s a game he knows he can win.”

“Which is why when he’s pressured, he releases the girl.” Hotch nodded along.

“He can take a loss where he can because, to him, the ultimate win is to not get caught,” Reid agreed.

“Great work,” Hotch said, parking the car. “You guys head in and get some good sleep. I’ll fill in the other van. Be ready for a big day of planning.”

You walked up with Reid and Prentiss, a small smile refusing to leave your lips. You cracked it, you thought to yourself.

Your two teammates teased each other up to the rooms, you following close behind. You weren’t the type to inject yourself into other people’s conversations, which ended up making it hard to connect with them. It was as if you had been adopted into a family that has known each other their whole lives. You were respected, sure, so there was no need to complain. You just wished that you could make jokes with them and have the levity they had during intense cases like this.

Still, even hearing your teammates laugh was enough for you tonight. You longed for a moment longer, but they said their goodnights and headed off.

You entered your room, much more relaxed than the night before. You had yourself all worked up, and for what? You gathered your things and headed to the shower, sure that Hotch wasn’t far behind and would call his son again.

As you exited the bathroom, Hotch entered the room. You jumped despite yourself.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“It’s ok,” was all you said in response. You returned your things to your bag and slid into bed. You turned on the lamp and began reading while Hotch took his turn in the shower.

You were still reading when he returned, the book more interesting now than it was the night before. You glanced up only for a moment. Hotch wore striped pajama pants tonight, contrasted to the boxers you accidentally noticed earlier that morning. You looked back at your book but couldn’t read it. Your mind wandered to the message Hotch could be sending. Maybe your shorts were inappropriate. Maybe you weren’t meant to see his boxer shorts at all. Maybe he was just cold.

“Good work today,” Hotch said, interrupting your thoughts.

You smiled up at him. “It was a team effort.”

“We may have never come to the conclusion you did. Take the compliment.” Hotch’s lips raised to a subtle smirk, something you’ve only seen a handful of times and certainly never directed toward you.

“Yes, sir,” you said. “Thank you.” You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Your eyes drifted back to your book.

“What’s your book about?”

Was Hotch trying to make conversation with you? True, it wasn’t as late as yesterday’s arrival, but in all of your months of working for the BAU, any discussion with the team had been strictly professional. Still, you blushed at the question.

“It’s a romance,” you confessed.

“I have to say,” Hotch began, “I’ve never read a romance novel. What about it appeals to you?”

You thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the suspension of disbelief. The relief to enter a reality where people love in big, romantic ways. Don’t you ever want to get swept off your feet?”

You cringed at the question, debating on whether it was appropriate to ask your superior about romance.

“I think I’d rather do the sweeping,” Hotch said thoughtfully.

You smiled at his words.

“You don’t think people love in romantic ways in this reality?” Hotch asked, looking up at the ceiling. His breaths were calm, and his face seemed to soften from serious to curious.

“I don’t know,” you said sincerely. “My sister is about to marry a real stand-up guy. He’s caring and has a good family who loves her, too. It’s one of those one-and-done fairy tale deals. Like truly made for each other. But I wouldn’t say that’s the norm. It’s not my norm, at least. So, yeah, I guess you could say I’m skeptical.”

You crossed your legs and fiddled with your thumbs. You tried not to reflect on your history, tried not to give any clue to your boss of your true beliefs. It didn’t ultimately matter to the conversation, anyway. The silence stewed as it stirred up new thoughts and old patterns, feeling yourself shut down the conversation. You didn’t mean to. You hated being seen as the one that was boring outside of work. The one that wasn’t friendly enough to get to know.

“I’m sure you don’t know,” Hotch began again, shaking you from your anxious thoughts, “but bringing up your sister reminded me that I met your dad a few years ago.”

You shot up. “You know about him?” You covered your face with your hands.

“He was nationally awarded for his work in counterterrorism. Of course, I know about him.” He laughed softly, a sound you weren’t used to but would never complain to hear it again. “I met him on a job in Bakersfield. He knew the town like the back of his hand. Is he why you joined?”

“In a roundabout way,” you sighed.

“He brought up his girls every chance he could.” Hotch smiled and turned to face you. “One was a soccer star in South Carolina on track to be a doctor. One was a track star a semester away from graduating with honors and applying to Physician Assistant programs, I believe.”

“My sisters are overachievers,” you said.

“Then it’s you he talked about the most. The musician, the future psychologist, the one who found fascination with the minute details of life.”

“My dad said all that?”

“He did. He had offered us beers when it was all over, and he shared photos of you all. You’re certainly much more grown now.” He chuckled.

Your cheeks flushed red at the comment.

“I showed him Jack playing tee-ball, and we both shared some stories before it was time to go. He had some great advice to give.”

“I’m sure he did,” you mumbled. “Sir, I don’t want you to think I got in because of him. He didn’t know until I made it to Quantico. I mean, yes, he always pushed the army and West Point like him, but I did this all on my own, Mr. Hotchner, I swear.”

“Hotch is fine,” he gently corrected. “I’m not worried about where you came from. I knew the entire time. But your qualifications are what got you on the team, not your father. Keep up the good work, and I’ll continue to remember that.”

“Yes, sir.” You thought to yourself for a moment. The candor of the conversation may have added to your bravery in this moment. “Hotch?”

He raised his eyebrows to imply he was listening.

“Umm, Is there anything that I can do to, like… never mind. I’m about to sound pathetic.” You huffed back down into your pillow. You couldn’t believe you were about to ask Hotch how to make friends.

“They’ll warm up to you, just like you’ll warm up to them. Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I’m sure they’ll see you for who you are.”

You sighed again. Of course, he knew what you were stressing about. He’s the chief profiler after all.

“I’ll let you read now,” Hotch said, getting up from bed. “I’m going to call Jack.”

You gave a small smile and nodded, and he left the room.

------

You woke up the next morning to Hotch returning to the room, two disposable coffee cups and a case file in his hands.

You jerked up from bed. “Am I late?” you asked, scared you slept through the alarm.

“No, no,” he said, walking over to you. “I’m early. Coffee?”

He held out one of the cups to you. You gently accepted.

“Thank you.” You looked over at the clock. 5:54. You rubbed your eyes. “Are you always up this early?”

“On the job, yes,” he said with no inflection. “Much to think about, and much to be done.” He sat back on his bed and reviewed the file you knew he had reviewed countless times. If he was anything like you, he was searching for some hidden puzzle piece, something that the team must have missed to solve the case once and for all. But it was never that easy. Still, maybe some fresh eyes could help.

You slid out of your bed and rested on top of his. “Can I help?”

“Be my guest.” He shifted the file your way for a better vantage point. You crossed your legs and sipped your coffee before getting to work.

You found yourself lost in thought, jotting down those thoughts in the margins. It helped to visualize your connections, even drawing physical lines to connect them. You noticed that the most recent girl didn’t fit the age range of the others, 19-23. You dug deeper, making a note to ask Garcia to run the connection between all of these girls. College? you wrote. There was a college campus within ten minutes of the hotel. One more thing struck you. All of the victims had their hair up in a high ponytail. You weren’t sure how that was associated yet, but you wrote beside each of the photos anyway.

As the early sun began to rise, you grew brutally aware of Hotch’s presence. His body leaned closer to yours, and you felt his eyes sear into your skin. You grew distracted, your mind wandering to the fact that you were wearing only a loose shirt and small shorts in Hotch’s bed. Was he noticing the same thing? Was this a breach of professionalism? Were you making him uncomfortable? Against all your will, you felt your body temperature rise in the form of a blush.

The alarm clock rang out, pulling both Hotch and your attention. You stretched over to turn it off.

“I’ll let you get ready,” Hotch said, jumping out of bed. He headed to the door, refusing to meet your gaze. “Meet me downstairs?”

“Yes, sir,” you said, slightly surprised by the questioning tone of your superior. He nodded and left the room before another word could be spoken.

-------

In the conference room of the local police station sat the team, all watching Hotch interact with the captain of the squad through the glass. You stayed facing the table with your head low. You couldn’t help the bounce of your leg. While the others inferred the conversation outside, your mind had fixated on the morning’s events. The heat of your boss’s breath had tattooed your skin, a branding to the back of your neck. The intimacy, the closeness, and then the flustered nature Hotch left in replayed in your mind. You couldn’t look at him until you could properly collect yourself.

“What’s on your mind, kiddo?” Morgan asked. Your head shot up. All eyes were on you now. You failed to hide the rouging in your cheeks.

“Nothing.” You shrugged, though you knew the contradiction in your body language.

JJ chuckled. “Nothing? You’re so tense, so distracted.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, huh?” Morgan asked again, a smile growing on his face. “Hotch keeping you up all night?”

You flinched at his name. You couldn’t help it, but you outed yourself all the same.

“No, I slept fine. I swear.”

“You flinched!” Prentiss laughed and pointed. “It is about Hotch, isn’t it?”

“Leave the poor girl alone,” Rossi said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.

“Hon, you better tell us what happened in the next three seconds.” Derek swatted at Spencer’s chest. “Reid, help us out, here.”

“Based on the months we’ve known her, she tends to—”

“Don’t you start profiling me, Reid.” You glared at Spencer across the table.

His arms shot up in the air as if to surrender, but a smirk remained on his face. “All I’m saying is that I know the physical signs of a crush when I see one.”

Your jaw dropped. The conference room filled with laughter.

“Leave her alone!” Garcia yelled from behind you. “She’s our sensitive little one!”

“I’m not 5,” you mumbled, crossing your arms. Penelope hugged you from behind as if to protect you from the others. The others continued to laugh, causing you to smile despite yourself. Morgan took a photo of you and Garcia, and warmth spread through you. Even with all the teasing, being here with the team felt good.

Just then Hotch rushed through the door. “Alright, let’s be seated and get to work. We have a big day ahead of us.” Garcia took her seat, but Hotch stayed standing, opting to position himself in front of the whiteboard. “After speaking with the captain and going through the case file with Y/N this morning, I determined our best attack on the situation. Though, it is rather unorthodox.”

The rest of the team stayed silent, waiting for the punchline. Hotch continued. “What do we know about our killer better than anything? His victimology. We know that he goes after girls and young women aged 16-23. They are middle to upper-class, and not the type to find themselves in trouble. Now, who do we all know who fits this very description?”

“Y/N,” Reid said.

All eyes returned to you, this time with a seriousness looming in the air.

“If we don’t want any other kidnappings, we need to give him what he wants. Going after the 16-year-old was off for him. He’s devolving. Which means we need to act fast before he kills again. This is the only way we can approach this head-on.”

“Hotch,” Emily began, “with all due respect, let me take this on. Or JJ. JJ has experience.”

“With his victimology going as low as 16 now, it should be someone who looks the part,” Reid replied.

“She’s just a kid, Hotch.” Morgan reached his hand toward your shoulder, but you gently nudged it away.

“But I’m not a kid at all,” you spoke up. “I have two degrees and the same job as the rest of you. I know I’m young and look younger, but I’m qualified. If my appearance can be used to put this guy away, then let me help. Let me do my job.” You looked up at Hotch, a sudden confidence flowing through your veins. “What do you need me to do?”

-------

For the rest of the day, the team helped you prepare for your role as a 22-year-old college student. The team strategized and planned, desperate to ensure your safety. Everyone added their two cents, but you were happy to receive all the insight you were given. You weren’t going to screw this up for them.

You, Hotch, Prentiss, and Morgan returned to the hotel to pick among your belongings to dress the part. Rossi, Reid, and JJ stayed behind with Garcia to set up intel at the station.

“The shorts you wore to bed,” Hotch began, “go put those on while we find a sweatshirt or jacket. In fact, wear the shirt you wore, too. The size could conceal the mic better.”

You nodded and grabbed your things before heading into the bathroom. It was not lost on you that your boss was thoroughly aware of your pajama situation, but due to the pivotal role you were to perform, it was easier to focus on the task at hand.

You returned from the bathroom where Emily greeted you with the mic. You lifted your arms, allowing Emily to snake the mic underneath your shirt, securing it to your sternum with sports tape. While doing so, Hotch and Morgan returned with a single sweatshirt in Morgan’s hand. It was grungy and old, not quite the goal aesthetic.

Still, Morgan handed it to you to try on. The three profilers evaluated your look.

“This isn’t gonna work,” Morgan said. Prentiss pinched her eyebrows together in dismay. Hotch stayed staring.

“Take off the sweatshirt,” Hotch ordered. “I think I have something better.”

You did as he said while he rummaged through his duffle bag. He pulled out a quarter zip of excellent quality, something he only wears on a successful plane ride home.

“Put it on.”

You didn’t hesitate to follow his instructions. It was a large fit, hanging just above the hem of your shorts and the sleeves landing at your fingertips. The three of them looked at you, then to their reference photos, then back at you. Something was missing.

“Call Reid. Maybe he can find any other similarity we’re missing,” Hotch said.

“No, I got it.” You remembered the notes you made earlier that morning. You took the hair tie from your wrist and pulled your hair up into a high ponytail. “Now, what do you think?”

“That’s it,” Morgan said.

“And just in time,” Emily noted, “We gotta get you to the college fast.”

On the ride to the school, Hotch reiterated the goals in place.

“All you need to do is walk across campus using the roads. Keep to yourself, and most importantly, do not—and I mean it—do NOT, get into the vehicle under any circumstances. Stall him, flirt with him, do anything you can to keep him in place. We’ll be right there. Got it?”

“Yes, sir. I got it.”

“We’re counting on you.”

“Good luck.” Prentiss smiled with seriousness behind her eyes.

Morgan grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. “Be smart, kiddo.”

You returned a small smile and left the van to venture on your walk.

------

You had to have walked the streets for at least an hour. The campus was massive, larger than any school you attended. You did as you were told and kept to yourself. The sun had long since set, so there was no warmth to guard you from the biting breeze. A car or two passed periodically, but none slowed down beside you. There was a peace in the solitude. One could chalk it up to the calm before the storm, but you weren’t afraid.

Another car passed, but this time it slowed down. Your heart stopped and landed in your throat.

“Excuse me,” the man called out. The voice was unforgettable. The very same voice that threatened to kill the girl over the phone. The voice that replayed in your mind for hours. You knew it was him.

You turned to face him, trying to commit every detail to memory. He was a conventionally attractive man with lighter hair and a smile that you would have swooned over under any other circumstance. He wore a white polo and jeans and drove a two-door black convertible with the top down.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m looking for a party my buddy’s throwing, but I don’t go here.”

“I’ll say you don’t,” you chuckled as you walked closer. “Your car must cost my tuition!”

The man grinned. “You like? I could take you for a spin. But I’ll have you know; I like to go fast.”

“Mmmm, top-down, wind in my hair,”—you inched closer still, to feign some sort of interest— “but don’t you have a party you’re missing?”

“Well, if you show me where to go, maybe I’ll consider you my plus one.” He winked.

“Now, do I look like the partying type to you?” You laughed and rested your arms on his car door.

Without another word, he grabbed you by the upper arms and pulled you into the driver’s seat. You screamed at the top of your lungs. You tried to fight him from your disadvantaged position, but he was stronger, quicker. He forced you into the passenger seat as he wailed punch after punch into your jaw.

“Nice. Girls. Don’t. Scream!” he yelled. He punctuated his words with one final blow to the head. And as you drifted out of consciousness, you weren’t sure if the roof was closing above you or if the sky was turning black.

------

The sound of fireworks stirred you from your unconsciousness. Lights of reds and blues lit the night sky. You smiled at the serenity of the celebration. You didn’t want to go, but the strong hands beneath you lifted you away. You were much too tired to argue, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep. The faint words “stay with me” echoed in your mind, and if staying meant remaining in the comfort of the person who held you, you’d be content to stay there forever.

------

You woke up to blinding white lights. This must be heaven you assumed. You blinked through the searing lights and realized it wasn’t heaven at all. You were in a hospital. The sheets, the gown, the blinking monitors, and a small TV playing all clouded your senses. You reached up to rub your head, but someone was holding your hand.

Hotch moved with you, stirring him out of his strained slumber. He had pulled a chair to your bed, his head resting next to your knee. He lifted his head and looked up at you, an urgency deep within his eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He didn’t let go of your hand.

“I—uhhh—Hotch, what’s goin’ on?” You found your breathing quickening at the sound of your slurred speech, the confusion becoming too much to handle.

“You’re ok. You’re gonna be ok. The doctor said they want to keep you overnight, but the team’s on their way.”

“No, no.” You pulled your hand away. “They can’t see me like this. You can’t see me like this! I’m not put together. I—I feel like I'm gonna be sick. I can’t feel my arms. Are my hands shaking? I'm freaking out. I'm freaking out!”

Hotch all but jumped at your ramblings, his eyebrows raised in shock. Before he could answer you burst into tears.

“Hotch, I’m gonna be sick,” you said through your convulsions.

Hotch jumped up in search of a bucket. He grabbed the trashcan at the corner of the room and brought it to you just in time. Tears streamed down your face as you threw up into the trashcan. Hotch held your hair back and gently rubbed your back.

Your nausea subsided, but your panic remained. Hotch sat on the bed, pulling you into his chest. You gripped him with all your might, desperate for the shakes to go away.

“You're alright. You're safe, ok? I think the medicine is messing with you a little. Take some deep breaths for me. I need you to relax, ok?”

You tried to take breaths at the pace Hotch set. Hotch’s hand combed through your hair as he tried to soothe you. Eventually, you were able to cool off. Hotch gently rested you back on your pillow. “Why don’t we go back to sleep for a little, ok? I think you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

You nodded, your face still wet from the tears. You repositioned yourself and fell asleep within moments.

When you woke up again, your mind was your own. Your head was pounding, and your body ached. You allowed yourself to adjust to your environment before searching for Hotch. There he sat by your bed, talking to a nurse. You cleared your throat effortfully. Hotch stood and approached you.

“How are you?”

“Everything hurts.”

“They’re giving you ibuprofen now. It seems like you were reacting to the morphine poorly.”

“That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all,” Hotch said seriously. “Do you remember what I told you? That they want to keep you overnight?”

“That does ring a bell,” you said as you rubbed your head. “Is the team here?”

“They are. I told them to wait outside until you were ready.”

“Oh, ok.” You thought for a moment. “Hotch?”

“Yes?”

“Can—Can you tell me what happened? Like, did we win? Is everyone ok?”

Hotch chuckled, but his eyes appeared sad. “Everyone is fine. We got him. Are you sure you want to talk about this now? Why don’t we wait until you—”

“Hotch. Please.”

Hotch sighed and took a moment to think. “Well, we knew we were looking for an expensive convertible thanks to you.” He smiled. “So, we began our search as you spoke. But then, we all heard you scream.”

You flinched at the word, your memory of the gruesome event beginning to reassemble.

“Of course, it was full speed at that point. He had you, and we weren’t going to lose you. We cornered him on a dead-end road just outside of campus. We didn’t let him get far. Prentiss shot out one of his tires, so he started running. Prentiss and Morgan ran for him, and I ran to you.”

He paused. He looked away as his bottom lip trembled. He took a deep breath in as he settled into his natural professionalism again.

“We had EMT on standby, so we were able to get here quickly.”

You nodded, realizing it was Hotch who carried you out. The fireworks, the lights, the “stay with me”, the reality of it all crashed in on you in the form of a shudder.

“It was you?” you asked.

Hotch knit his eyebrows together and tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“You pulled me out. I felt you. I think I heard you.”

“Someone had to make sure you were ok.”

The fact that it was Hotch warmed your heart. Still, a question lingered in your mind. “Is he still alive?”

Hotch shook his head no.

“Mm,” was all you could say in response. There was no room for emotion. No time to process an opinion. You were just glad it was over. “What time is it?”

Hotch checked his watch. “It’s 2:43.”

“In the morning? Sir, with all good intentions, go to bed. Go tell the team to—”

Just behind Hotch, you caught a glimpse of Spencer in the doorway. “Is now a good time?” he asked.

You smiled and nodded. Spencer peeked his head back out and in a loud whisper said, “It’s clear! Go, go, go!”

The rest of the team hustled into the room and crowded around your bed. One by one, greetings and gentle hugs made their rounds, and your smile grew bigger and bigger.

“It’s a party now,” you said, a giggle bubbling out of your throat.

“Oh, she’s got the right idea,” JJ said as she sat close to you on the bed. She carefully moved a strand of hair from your face.

Prentiss laughed. “All we need now is some good music, a dance floor, and some drinks.”

The room filled with a few laughs and overall agreement.

“Too bad you all aren’t even supposed to be here,” Hotch said, slightly scolding the team. “It’s probably time for you all to call it a night.”

“Aw, Hotch, just a few minutes?” Garcia asked.

“We’ll be quiet!” Reid said.

Everyone looked at Hotch expectantly. You looked around at your teammates. They all were begging for a couple more minutes with you. That alone allowed your pain to subside.

Hotch sighed. “Just a couple more minutes.” A small smile formed on his face.

Everyone crowded around the bed, content murmurs and chatter filling the room again.

“Now be honest, guys. How bad do I look?” You shot them all a cheesy smile to sell it.

A few of them chuckled at your antics.

“I think you’ll be back to dating in no time,” Prentiss joked. “Guys love a badass scar.”

“Yeah, ’cause she was dating before,” JJ teased as she played with your hair.

“Shut up!” you giggled, coughing a little.

“I’ll get you water.” Hotch shot up and walked off.

“I’ll go with him,” Rossi said, sighing.

A seriousness enveloped the room. Derek was the first to speak up. “You know, you really scared us today, kiddo. Not to get all big brother on you, but it was tough seeing Hotch carrying you like that. Just limp.”

“And imagine how Hotch must have felt,” Reid said.

You looked up at him. “What do you mean?”

Just then Hotch and Rossi returned with your water.

“Drink,” he said, his arm outstretched. You grabbed the water from him, your fingers overlapping his. The memory of his hands shot through your spine. His frantic begging for you to stay with him, much more panicked than you remembered the phrase.

Imagine how Hotch must have felt.

“It’s getting late,” Rossi said.

The rest of the team grumbled and said their goodbyes. Hotch allowed the rest of the team to go, lingering in the room with you.

“If you need me to stay, I’d be happy to do so.”

“You need sleep, sir.”

“I’ll sleep on the plane,” he said as if it was nothing to him. “If you don’t think you’ll need me, I can let you be. We can be here early to pick you up.”

You thought for a moment. You didn’t want him to go, just in case. “Would you be willing to stay?”

“It’s why I offered.”

You felt your lip begin to tremble, the brave face for the rest of the team beginning to fade. “Hotch?”

“What can I do?”

“Well, I just… Can I use your phone? I think my mom should know I’m alright.”

“Of course.” He handed you his phone. “I’ll wait right outside for you.”

When the phone call was finished, Hotch returned and sat down in the chair.

“If you’re going to stay, I at least want you comfortable,” you said.

“The chair is fine,” Hotch said, taking his coat off for the first time today. “Get some sleep.”

You scooted to the side of your bed. “Here. At least sit up here where there’s some cushion.”

He didn’t respond right away. You knew you could convince him.

“I promise I’ll sleep,” you continued. “I’d be up worrying about your discomfort otherwise.”

Hotch sighed and stood up. “Only because I want you to sleep.”

He sat in the space you made for him at your feet. He stretched his legs alongside yours and rested his back against the footboard of the hospital bed.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you curled up on your side. The comfort in knowing that he was there to take care of you was enough to send you off to sleep in minutes.

“Goodnight, Hotch.”

“Goodnight.”

------

You woke up to something you had never seen before. Hotch was asleep at the foot of your bed, resting his head against your shins. A hand was placed just below your knee as if he planned to protect you in his sleep. It was the most peaceful you had ever seen him. He didn’t look cross or serious. He was calm and relaxed. You smiled to yourself. You had to fight the urge to return his touch. You knew the moment he woke up he’d return to his professional senses, and you weren’t quite ready for this moment to be over.

The doctor walked in to check on you, stirring him awake, anyway.

“I’m clearing you. Take these twice a day. Your jaw is going to be sore for a couple weeks, so work up to crunchy and chewy foods. And please, no strenuous activity for at least a full week.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, taking the bottle of pills.

“Thank you,” Hotch said. He stood up from your bed as the doctor left. He threw his jacket on and fixed his hair in the window’s reflection.

You sat up and swung your legs off the bed. Hotch spun around and met you at your side.

“How can I help?”

You chuckled. “I think I can stand on my own.”

His eyes shared signs of concern and disbelief. Still, he took a small step back and allowed you to gather your bearings. Standing on your own, you closed the small gap between you. You began to become painstakingly aware of your attire being only a hospital gown and rubber socks.

“You got it?” Hotch asked, his arms out like you were a baby taking your first steps.

“Mmhmm,” you said. “Are my clothes here?”

“Yes, let me grab them for you.” He rushed to the corner of the room where your clothes had been neatly folded, including his sweater. He handed them all to you, his hands brushing against yours. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he stood over you. You looked up at him. His eyes returned your gaze, though you weren’t able to read him. His chest rose and fell as if his breathing was slow and deliberate.

“I’m going to call the team,” Hotch said, his voice low. “Do you—do you need help with anything before I do?”

All you could do was shake your head no on instinct, your eyes not leaving his. He stayed still. His eyes scanned you like he was contemplating something. He backed up carefully and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.

“Wait,” you said.

He froze.

You felt your face redden as you worked up the courage to continue. “Could—could you untie the top for me? My shoulder—”

“You don’t have to explain,” he said softly as he inched forward again. “Turn around.”

You did as you were told. He brushed your hair over your shoulder and began to work on the knot. His calloused fingers feathered your skin. His warm breath betrayed you as chills ran down your spine. He untied the knot, allowing cool air to reach the back of your now-open gown. Hotch turned to leave.

“Be careful,” he said at the door. “If you need me, knock on the glass.”

You nodded.

He closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

------

The drive from the hospital to the hotel rendered the air stale. Hotch had insisted on helping you out of the hospital and into the car. But he didn’t speak. He drove while you sat in the back seat. Every once in a while, you’d catch him checking on you in the rear-view mirror, only to direct his attention back to the road.

When you returned to the hotel, Hotch stopped you from leaving the car.

“I’ll grab your things. You stay here.”

“I can get my things just fine.”

“Your bag is heavy. Doctor’s orders. No strenuous activity. Stay here.”

You huffed and sat back in your seat as Hotch closed the door for you.

The plane ride was the same: silent. Hotch sat opposite you as if he refused to allow you to leave his sight. But he kept to himself all the same. The others rested or played their card games, but you stayed put, almost waiting for Hotch to make his next move. He didn’t speak the entire flight.

Upon your return, Hotch dismissed the rest of the team.

“Thank you for the hard work this weekend. Rest up, and I will see you all Monday.”

You all headed out to leave, but Hotch stopped you. “Let me take you home,” he said.

You sighed. “Is driving a strenuous task now?”

“It’s late, and I’m not asking,” he said, returning your attitude.

You followed him to his car. He carried both his and your bag and placed them in the backseat before joining you up front.

Again, not a word was spoken between the two of you. You felt your blood boiling beneath your skin. It was as if the trip never happened, as if the distance between you never closed. The babying was the worst of all. You were sure he was seeing you as the rest of the team did now, incapable, fragile, only a child.

Hotch walked you up to your apartment. He waited for you to open your door, placing your bag directly inside.

“Well,” you began, “I guess I’ll see you Monday.”

He stood in your doorway for a moment, something on his mind. “Are you sure you’re ok? Is there anything else you think you may need before I go?”

“Hotch, what is all this?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

You tried to maintain your sanity, but the anger had bubbled into your throat. “All this, this, this coddling! You’re treating me like I’m fragile or, or useless!”

“Do I have to remind you that you were in the hospital this morning?” Hotch asked, aggravation coating his throat.

“I don’t need this from you, too, ok? The rest of them, I can take it, but you were different! I thought you were different.”

Hotch closed the door behind him and crossed his arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you not noticed that all of them treat me like I’m a child? Derek literally calls me kiddo, and the girls act like I’m some innocent girl fresh out of high school. Reid and JJ are five years older than me. That’s it! Rossi, forget it. I’m like a grandchild to him at this point. But you, you never belittled me. So, what is this? Did I fail you? I’d rather you just tell me than refuse to speak to me.”

“I – you didn’t fail me. How could you think that?”

“You couldn’t even look at me after the hospital.”

Hotch’s face turned a light shade of pink, his eyes leaving yours for only a moment. “We were successful because of you. But you got hurt. I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all.”

You thought for a moment, still not satisfied with his answer. “Then why didn’t you talk to me? I thought we were—I thought maybe there was something—”

“Please,” Hotch interrupted, “don’t say anything you might regret.” He took a step back.

“Are you saying I’m imagining this? That I imagined this morning?”

“No, no, no. We’re not doing this.”

“The coffee, the book put away neatly,”

“I would do that for anyone.”

“What about when you stormed out yesterday? When we were going over the file on your bed.” Your voice started to shake.

“That’s when I—I realized we had to use you.” He looked down, almost ashamed.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear that you’ve outed yourself and maybe you were more delusional than you thought.

“This morning…” you said.

“You asked for my help, and I helped you. Just like I’m happy to do for you now if you need. Look, it’s late, and you’ve gone through a lot.”

“Then what did Reid mean?”

Hotch looked back up at you. He looked nervous, something you may have never seen in his eyes before. “What do you mean?”

“He said imagine how you must have felt when you found me. What did he mean by that if it doesn’t mean you care about me?”

“Of course, I care about you!” he exclaimed, moving closer to you. “I almost lost you! And when I found you, I thought you were gone. You were lifeless. So, forgive me for wanting to be careful with you, because I refuse to let that happen again. I refuse to lose you again.”

You looked at him in shock.

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said any of this. Listen, the only reason you’re feeling anything for me is because it’s me you woke up to. Nothing more. If Reid or Morgan found you, the same thing would happen with them.”

“Do not chalk this up to some damsel in distress situation,” you said a little too boldly. “The whole team knows I have a thing for you.”

Now Hotch was in shock. He shook his head. “It’s not me you want.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“I know you’re desperate for romance in your life because you either don’t make time for it in real life or were burned so bad in the past, that you gave it up entirely.”

“Hotch, don’t you dare profile me right now.”

“I know you have a rocky relationship with men in general, rooted in your relationship with your father.”

“Stop it, now.”

“You refuse to associate with him in any way. You don’t even allow us to call you by your last name. He views you differently from your sisters for some reason, and you hate him for it.”

“Hotch, I swear to god—”

“You mocked him for giving good advice, and you flinched when I brought up getting beers with him. He’s an alcoholic, isn’t he?”

“So, what, honestly? Literally who cares if he drinks? He gets mean, so what? What gives you the right to tell me what I can and cannot have?”

“But he’s not just mean, is he?”

The air in your lungs got caught in your throat.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s how he treats you differently.”

“That’s enough,” you said, your voice cold.

Hotch stepped closer, grabbing your shoulders with both hands. You shuddered in his grasp. “You don’t want me, ok? I can’t fix what you’ve gone through. I can’t even protect you at work. Do you know the guilt I feel for what happened to you? I’m the one who got you hurt. And now I have to live with that. What makes you think that I can be what you need if I can’t even keep you safe here?”

You closed what little space was left between you. You looked up at him, your face only inches from his. “Stop telling me what I want. I’m an adult. I can make my own choices. You’re not going to push me away like this.”

Hotch’s breath hitched in his throat. His chest heaved up and down, and his eyes darkened. “This is wrong. I’m your superior. This isn’t appropriate.”

“If you truly don’t want me, I’ll stop. We’ll go back to how things were. But you have to say you don’t want me.”

His grip on your shoulders strengthened, his touch burning into your skin. His now wild eyes scanned you as if he couldn’t have fathomed this happening. A lump formed in your throat as you waited for him to find the words. Instead, he pulled you flush against him and pressed his lips against yours. His kiss was raw and desperate, rougher than your healing jaw could take, but you couldn’t care less. He wrapped his arms around your back and gripped your hair as if it was instinctual. Your breathing hitched, causing you to moan into his mouth.

He pulled away, slightly out of breath. “I need you to tell me this is ok.”

“This is ok,” you said, breathless.

“Good,” Hotch said, “because I don’t want to stop.”

A smirk formed on your face. You grabbed a hold of his tie and pulled him closer to you. “Then I think you need to take this off.”

You dropped the tie and kissed him as he took his coat off. Your mouth wandered to his jaw. Hotch let out a groan.

“Your room. Now.”

His words sent chills down your spine. You took his hand and led him to your room. You turned around and watched Hotch remove his tie, sliding it through his collar. His eyes stayed on yours, his already dark eyes now almost black with desire. The moment his tie came off, he was back on you, kissing you like his life depended on it. His hands wandered to your ass and lifted you up, his lips never leaving your skin. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to your bed.

Hotch laid you down, now hovering over you. His lips drifted from yours down to your neck.

“Seeing you in this had me thinking horrible things,” Hotch confessed, slightly pulling on the quarter zip you were still wearing.

You blushed. “Really?” you asked, a smug smile growing on your face. “Is that why you were avoiding me?”

“Was it really that obvious?” Hotch asked, his large hands finding their way under your shirt.

You couldn’t even answer as his hands ventured up to your chest. His hands pulled a moan from your mouth.

“Take this off,” Hotch said as he pulled the hem of your shirt.

“You, first.”

Hotch’s eyebrows raised as if surprised by your reply. He sat up and unbuttoned his shirt. You practically drooled at the sight of him shirtless. You could only assume he was fit when he rolled up his sleeves or manhandled unsubs, but this was all the confirmation you needed.

“Your turn,” he said.

You did as you were told, revealing yourself to him.

“God, you’re perfect,” he sighed as he kissed your chest.

You fought off a moan. You couldn’t believe this was happening. This was only something you pictured in your wildest dreams, and here he was in the flesh.

“I wanted this for so long,” you found yourself saying out loud.

“Me, too,” he agreed. “You have no idea how much I thought about this.”

Your cheeks flushed red. He began leaving marks past your breasts, down your stomach to the hem of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” Hotch asked.

You nodded.

“Use your words, honey.”

Your stomach did a flip hearing the phrase. “Yes, sir. Take them off.”

He all but growled in response. He pulled at your shorts, taking them off in a swift motion.

“So much for no strenuous activities,” you joked.

“I can be gentle,” Hotch said as he settled in between your legs. “Let me take care of you.”

Your head fell back onto your pillow. You knew you were in for it.

Hotch spread your legs apart, the stretch enough for you to arch into his touch.

A smirk graced his lips, and without another word, he licked into your core. His mouth against you was like a gift from God, something you had only hoped could feel so good. You couldn’t help but squirm against him, grabbing his hair to pull him closer, if at all possible. He placed a hand on your stomach to keep you still. You could feel him smile against you, turning you on even more.

“Hotch,” you breathed out. You were close faster than you had ever been.

“Say my name,” he said as he placed a finger inside you.

“A-Aaron,” you choked out, the new sensation too much to handle. He filled you with another finger, his hitting the spot your fingers never could.

“Fuck, Aaron, don’t stop. Please.” Your breathing quickened, and as he pumped his fingers in and out, you felt the coil in your stomach snap, expletives and his name leaving your lips. Hotch continued to pump you as you rode your high, a daze overtaking you.

When you caught your breath, you pulled Hotch back up for a kiss, your hands finding their way to his belt.

Hotch’s hands stopped yours. You looked up at him, confused.

“Are you sure you want this?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“I want this if you do. Do you?” you asked.

“I really do,” he said. “I need to feel you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Then please let me help you.”

He released your hands and kissed your forehead as you unbuckled his belt. The moment felt ironically wholesome until you pulled at his dress pants. You couldn’t help but gawk at his cock springing free. You were suddenly nervous, not quite sure it would fit after all this time practically revirginizing. If your jaw weren’t so sore, you’d have him in your mouth without a second thought.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise,” he said as if he could hear your thoughts. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Hotch hovered over you and kissed your lips softly. You returned the kiss and nodded.

Hotch lined himself up with your entrance and carefully pushed in. He and you both groaned at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you something you hadn’t experienced in years.

“Jesus Christ. You’re so, this isn’t your first time, is it?”

“No, no,” you said, slightly embarrassed. “It’s just been a while. Just, just go slow, ok?”

Hotch nodded and started to move. He rested his forehead on yours, sighs and pants escaping both of your lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Hotch asked.

You chuckled at his question. “We’re a little past that, aren’t we?”

Hotch smiled as he placed his lips on yours, much more tender than before. He moved a stray hair from your face and cupped your cheek with the utmost gentility. The urgency was gone, replaced by something deeper. Everything had culminated to this moment, and neither of you wanted to waste it.

Still, the need for more overtook you. “Aaron,” you said, your hips bucking up into his.

“What do you need? I need you to tell me.”

“Faster, please,” you said.

His pace quickened, one hand still around you. He used the other to stabilize himself, allowing you to view the tension in his muscles. You bit back a moan as the pressure inside you built.

“Don’t hold back,” Hotch said. “Let me hear you.”

He slammed into you, a smirk growing on his face as your breath caught in your throat.

“Just like that!” you blurted out.

He did just that, slamming into you again and again.

“Fuck. I don’t know how much longer I can last,” Hotch said, his voice almost shaking.

“I’m close, too. Please don’t stop,” you begged.

He pounded into you harder and faster, no longer a rhythm but a motive, a goal to achieve.

“Come for me, honey. I’ve got you. Just come for me.”

You clenched around him as you came, all but screaming his name. His pace didn’t let up as you rode your orgasm, your legs trembling around him.

“Oh, god. I’m gonna, where do I—”

“Chest!”

He pulled out and came on your chest, making the most attractive groans you had ever heard in your life. You watched in awe, absolute shock overtaking you. Never in your wildest dreams did you picture this. And for the love of god, you hoped this wasn’t the last time this happened.

Hotch crawled over you, still catching his breath, and captured your lips in a kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Hotch asked. “Is your head ok?”

“I’m good,” you said smiling at his return to his overprotective self. “I’m really good. I promise.”

Hotch rested his forehead on yours then kissed you, the tenderness returning.

“I like when you do that,” you said, your cheeks reddening.

“Me, too,” he said. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“You don’t have to help, if you don’t want to.”

“What, and miss showering with you?” Hotch smiled. “Just lead the way.”

In the shower, the two of you washed up, and you couldn’t knock the smile from your face if you tried, until you thought about showing up to work Monday morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Hotch asked.

“The team’s gonna know,” you said.

Hotch thought for a moment. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, well, I wouldn’t have done it in this order, but would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening?”

You blushed, despite the state you were both in. “Are you asking me on a date?”

Hotch smiled. “I’m asking you on a date, yes. I have to be honest, though, I’m out of practice.”

“If tonight was you out of practice, I think tomorrow will go just fine.”

Hotch laughed and kissed you again, something you hoped would never fade in your memory.

************

ForeversTaglist:

@lizziedizzie3 @heavennleeee-blog @hunterswearingplaid @thisismysecrethappyplace @geekinator9 @ronnie248-blog @oliolioxiclean @phonegalhelp @because-you-never-know-when @roonyxx @keithseabrook27 @ericaprice2008 @heythereamigodude

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fluff

5K notes · View notes

arminsumi · 1 year

Text

ADULT STORE

↳ GETO すぐる + fem!reader

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense."

1.5k words

Pt. 2

Summary : product testing with the helpful employee at the adult store!

Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content : using toys, stranger/hookup sex, softdom!Geto, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, squirting, multiple orgasms, sex fantasy trope (sex with the adult store employee)

Note : i haven't made a trip to the adult store in ages bc... everything i want is so expensive lol (the struggle) 😭 i have some rlly funny adult store stories i could ramble about but i will refrain ✋ anyways, indulge yourselves in this fantasy, angels! 😈

Playme : wanna know what it's like?

The gate of the store buzzes, the employee watches you open it with a clink and enter the adult store. Your eyes flood with the overwhelming sight of wall-to-wall toys.

The smooth voice of the employee comes from behind the cash register.

"Yo."

Long hair. Dark, brooding look — almost gothic. Attractive hands with pronounced veins running over the back of them, poised on the countertop which he's lazing over.

He sees you and slowly straightens out his back out to impress you with his height.

"Ah, h-hello..."

He hears you stutter, and assumes it must be your first time in an adult store.

"First time? I mean, in an adult store, that is." he breaks the ice.

"Haha, y-yeah... yeah, it's my first time."

Yeah, that's what I thought.

He holds hard and deep eye contact with you. Yes, he's aware of how intensely he stares. He's doing it on purpose.

"Would you like some assistance, or do you just want to leisurely browse by yourself?"

His tone is so friendly, it doesn't let on to how heated his abdomen is getting at the sight of you.

"Yes, please, I'd appreciate your assistance."

Aw, of course.

"M'kay... then let me assist you."

He smoothly comes out from behind the counter and the two of you stand in front of a wall of toys.

"Overwhelmed?" he chuckles, noting how your eyes widen while looking at all the products. "I know there's a lot to choose from. But just focus on your needs. What do you need?"

"What do I need? Honestly, I have no idea what I need." you laugh nervously.

I know exactly what she needs...

"Well, why don't we carefully go through the products together? I'm sure I can figure out what you need. Promise I know my stuff. I've been working here for three years."

His nonchalance and professionalism puts you at ease. It's something he prides himself on: making customers feel relaxed.

Your eye catches on a pink dildo, so he takes it off the rack to show you up close.

"This one's good, it's got a ribbed design." he shows it off. "Are you looking for just penetration or clitoral stimulation?"

Aw, she's flustered.

"Uh, both I guess? Yeah. I'd love both."

Of course you'd love both. That's what you need, pretty girl.

"Both? Come over here. Let me show you something you might like."

There's a flirty tension between the two of you that just keeps getting more and more... intense.

He plucks a curvy vibrator. It looks expensive. Because it is expensive.

"This one's got ten functions—"

"—ten?! Sounds a bit extra."

"Nothing's too extra when it comes to your personal pleasure."

The two of you share a long look, then laugh.

"But it really is an excellent product."

"Are you advertising?" you joke teasingly.

"Absolutely." he jokes, "Kidding. I'm not trying to come across as a preachy marketer or something. I've used it with partners in the past, that's why I'm recommending it; I know it's good. It's a pretty intense toy. Helps girls squirt even if they think they can't."

I could make her squirt.

He's running his eyes up and down your body.

"Is that so...?" you mumble flirtatiously, eyeing out the product in his veiny, manly hands.

"Hm, still a skeptic? Because I'm sure I could please you."

He hopes that you note his deliberate use of 'I' and not 'it' there.

"Yeah. I'm sure you could please me, too." you flirt.

A heat erupts in his abdomen and stomach.

Oh wow... now she's really flirting, huh? Why'd I wear tight pants today of all days...

He has an unwavering gaze on you. You've captivated him. Put him in some kinda horny trance.

"Did I say me? Sorry. Slip of the tongue." he murmurs, voice dropping lower, "I meant the vibrator." he obviously lies.

You and him exchange a suggestive, longing look. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing, begging to get stuffed up and pleasured.

He hesitates before speaking again, as if he's scared of crossing a line and making you uncomfortable.

"If you want to... we could test it out together?" he suggests. His nonchalance is an act, really he's so nervous when he asks this.

"I'd love to..." you consent, and he doesn't miss the erotic excitement in your tone.

He nods towards the backdoor, eyes keeping on you and your cute little body that he just wants to feel and squeeze like a toy itself.

"Promise to keep your lips sealed about this? I don't wanna get fired for uh... you know... demonstrating products... to my pretty customer."

"Only if you promise to help me squirt for the first time."

Oh wow. Fuck. I'm hard.

His lips widen into a devilish grin. "Sure thing."

After a sloppy, desperate make out with this stranger, you find yourself sat on the couch in the breakroom. Door locked. Blinds shuttered closed. Legs spread wide to his liking, as he cushions the vibrator into your plush slit.

He's rubbing it slowly up and down your folds. He watches your reactions intently, breathing heavier at the sight of your pussy squishing under the pink dildo. The buzzing sound fills the room, but your moans are louder.

He clutches the toy gently, massaging the bulbous head into your clit with sweeping circular motions.

"F-fuck... that pretty clit feels good, doesn't it? Yeah? Let's get it feeling even better."

He turns it up a notch. It buzzes harder against your sensitive nub.

"How's that? Haha, yeah, intense, isn't it?

"Yeahhh — Fuck! Ohhh that's so good, that's so — oh my goddd fuckkk. S-sorry I think... I'm gonna cummm — !!"

"It's okay. Cum as hard as you can, yeah? I want you to get a good idea of how well this toy can pleasure you before you buy it, after all. Oh there we go... just let go and... f-fuck... wow... j-just cum like that. Fuck... that pretty clit feels so good now, huh? Gonna cum? Gonna cum for me, with a vibrator on your cunt?"

He takes note of your reaction to his dirty talk and smirks. Then he slyly turns the toy's setting higher and it buzzes more intensely, and in one... two... three... seconds, you're squirting like crazy all over the pink vibrator and his hand.

Holy shit, look at that pretty pussy gushing... she could drench my dick. I wanna be inside her so fucking baddd...

"Oh, see I told you... this product's a bit intense." he regains his professional tone after you cum.

He turns the toy off and watches you come down from your shaking orgasm, smug look on his face. He keeps it clutched in his veiny hand, and brings it up to his lips to suck and lick up all your juices from it.

She tastes so fucking good... I feel dizzy.

You watch him with wide eyes as he tastes your slick off the toy.

"F-fuck... wh-what did you s-s-say your name was again?" you stutter, starstruck by this stranger.

You're so fucking dizzy, your pussy is buzzing like it still feels the intensity of the toy against it.

"Hm, wanna know my name?" he smiles teasingly, "How about you cum on my face and then I'll tell you."

"Fuck, okay."

And then as soon as you give him permission, he's hungrily diving between your thighs.

"Oh my god..." he loves how you gasp and writhe under the influence of his mouth.

Let's see how fucked-out I can get her. Wanna see her lose her mind 'cause of me.

His lips latch onto your labia and suckle, then onto your clit. He points his tongue at your clit, then oh my god flattens it and laps at your bud while suckling. His softness shows a hint to tenderness in his personality; he really knows how to treat a woman well.

This stranger spoils your pussy with his tongue and lips. He seems to be in his own little world while nosing between your thighs. He carelessly gets your juices smeared across his cheek and lets the rest dribble down his chin.

"Fuck fuck fuck — like that, like that. Don't stop don't stop — !! 'm gonna cum! G-gonna — fffffffucking cummmm ahhhhh — !!"

He flicks the tip of his tongue against your sensitive bundle of nerves, eager to make your pussy freak out on his mouth. Just before you cum he slips two fingers into your hole, middle and ring, and pumps them into a sweet spot hard. He just wants to get an idea of the feeling of your pussy when it cums.

Suckling at your clit, fingering you with nice hard rough strokes, closing his eyes like he's the one enjoying it meanwhile he's silent and you're moaning like you're going insane. He can tell you're close and speeds it up.

"Cum cum cum, cum for me. Just let go and cum." he sounds so desperate, and that professional tone of his is finally cracking. "Cum on my fucking face, please."

And he dives his tongue right back into your hole, wriggling his tongue around, resulting in the nastiest wet squelching sound. His lips press flat against your pussy, he draws in a deep breath and your heat is all he smells.

Please cum on my face. Please please please.

"Ah! Fuck! Fuckkkk!"

You gush right on his lips, which are plump and swollen and red and glistening with your slick.

He pulls away and licks his lips and tells you his name.

"Suguru, by the way. My name's Suguru. Hey... can I give you my number?"

Oh he's so smooth. But he's even smoother at the checkout, when he asks if you're free this Friday for a date. At his apartment. With the company of some of his favorite toys.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

17K notes · View notes

xjulixred45x · 8 months

Text

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

#headcanons #drabbles #fem reader #neutral reader #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

4K notes · View notes

i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year

Text

*NSFW* How to train your pet Human pt. 3 (Yandere!Alien x GN!Reader)

CW: Dub-con, mild psychological distress, mind break, dead dove fic

Part 1, part 2

Kirtch slumped over his friend's standing chair, miserable and mopey.

A tall creature, taller than even Kirtch, sighed dramatically, sauntering around their depressed friend with a smaller horned being crawling behind them.

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong." Kirtch whined pathetically in Jaudna's native tongue. Jaudna made a gurgling sound with the soft spot on their head, the closest human equivalent being someone rolling their eyes. They sprawled across their lounging seat, motioning for their pet to stay on his knees.

"I'll tell you exactly what you've done wrong. You pampered them too much."

"I punish them!"

"You punished them for their escape attempt. That was it. You've allowed your pet to test your authority in plenty of ways after that."

The man on his knees pleaded with his eyes to be let up, but stayed perfectly still, like he wasn't alive. Kirtch noted Jaudna's pet's demeanor with discomfort. That discomfort only lasted until he imagined (Reader) in that same position, looking up at him with their large dewy eyes, waiting so patiently to be held by him... his discomfort was replaced by jealousy.

"You don't understand, (Reader's) such a sweet little pet, and whenever they struggle they're so cute about it. I just can't understand why they aren't happy."

"Humans' minds are incredibly flawed. According to the few psychological texts I have gotten my claws on over the years, their memory is not set in stone like ours, it is fickle and easily manipulated. One of my books referenced a case in the nation called 'The United States of America' where nearly the entire country fell into panic over an imaginary evil, because a few doctors used a phoney science called 'hypnotism', a practice they believed could help recover forgotten memories, on a bunch of children, but accidentally implanted false memories of abuse, leaving the children traumatized, believing that they had been victims of a horrific occult."

Kirtch looked to his good friend nervously. "Are you implying I do something nefarious to my pet's mind?"

"No, I'm showcasing an example of how stupidly easy it should be to train your pet to love you." They tossed a book into Kirtch's hands, the cover printed with a photograph of a wild looking man, with fluffy hair and dark, hateful eyes. "Hypnotism isn't the only creative way humans have learned to reprogram each other."

Kirtch almost threw the book back, but saw Jaudna's unnamed pet still sitting so patiently for his master, and the pain in his body where his heart may have been throbbed again. "Thank you.. Jaudna."

(Reader) had waited for what they assumed to be well over an Earth day, alone in Kirtch's quarters, waiting for his return. The only company they received were the employees who brought their meals, speaking down at them in a language they didn't know, but could understand the disgust. It had been over a month since their fight with Kirtch. Every day since had been nothing but hell, feeling like their heart had been ripped out, they laid in their bed cage, only moving when necessary, allowing themselves to hide away inside their own mind.

The main door opened again, and (Reader) could hear Kirtch's long, graceful steps as he passed through the study and into the bedroom. "(Reader)? Are you still in bed?"

In an act of defiance, (Reader) kept their mouth shut, pulling the blanket tighter around their shoulders. But it was of little use, as Kirtch easily lifted their purposefully dead weighted body out of the bed.

"I'm sorry I was gone for so long, pet, but I had to see an old friend for advice." He carried (Reader) back to his desk, sitting them in his lap, fighting to hold them upright as they flopped about limply. "(Reader), please sit up so I can take off your shirt."

He began working on the wrists, the intricate metal cuffs with multiple buttons that almost acted like locks, and (Reader) subtly straightened their back to give him better access to the neck corset thing, thankful to finally have it off for a couple hours at least. (Reader) had grown to find it somewhat elegant the past few months, but it still was an incredible pain in the ass.

Feeling the air on their neck was bliss, and (Reader) immediately ran their fingers over their skin. (Reader) breathed a deep sigh, relaxing their body unintentionally. But almost as soon as their hands left their throat, a new collar was latched into place, a loud mechanism clicking as it tightened, stabbing the back of their neck with what felt like a fixed needle.

(Reader) cried out in pain, sprawling out their limbs on reflex, pushing themselves out of Kirtch's embrace and onto the floor, lying naked on their knees as they clawed at the collar, desperate to relieve the pain.

"What?? Why?" Their voice was barely audible through their sobs.

"I'm so sorry my pet, the pain will end soon, wait-" Kirtch pushed a button on what looked like a remote, and (Reader) could physically feel the rush of liquid enter their body, then the pain lightened, leaving (Reader) almost euphoric in it's absence.

"What is this? Why did you do this?" Betrayal laced their tone, and Kirtch looked almost on the verge of tears, but he stood still, refusing his urge to scoop up his little pet and beg for forgiveness.

"I know now that I didn't train you correctly, and for that I am sorry. I've given you too much leeway, and that is why you've been so unhappy." He took a ragged breath, thumbing the controller as he thought out his words. "I didn't want to do this, but I care about your happiness. This is for the best."

"So you put a shock collar on me?" (Reader) asked incredulously, spitting venom.

"No, nothing barbaric like that!" Kirtch looked hurt, flinching as he almost dropped onto his knees to comfort (Reader). "I just need to convince you that you're happy here with me, just as I did the first night you were here, to help you release your stress."

(Reader) remembered the shot he gave them, that first night when Kirtch used a toy to get them off, the hormones he artificially added to their body to make them feel pleasure, and then thought about the pain in the back of their neck. The color drained from their face. There were only two options; plead or double down.

"You can manipulate me all you like, I'll never be happy here." A tear escaped as (Reader) transformed their hurt into anger. "I deserve someone who will love me, not as a pet, but as an equal. Because I am a human fucking being. And we have partnerships. We don't jack off our pets, we do not love our pets like we love the people we have sex with, because that- that is not okay! Why did you.." (Reader) couldn't stop themselves from crying, looking up to try to at least slow the waterworks.

The silence between them was loud. (Reader) turned away, wiping away their snot with their bare arms.

"Pet, noun; a domestic or tamed animal kept for companionship or pleasure. Adjective; denoting a thing that one devotes special attention to or feels particularly strongly about." (Reader) looked up, horrified. "Your's may not be my first language, but I feel I had a pretty decent grasp on my understanding of what a pet is."

Kirtch placed a hand over his face to hide his expression.

"You'll be happier once this is all over. I promise."

"You son of a-!" (Reader) couldn't finish their sentence, more fluid passed into their spine, followed by an immediate sense of emptiness. Extreme anxiety flooded their body, causing severe stomach pain almost instantly. They collapsed, holding onto their midsection, their bare skin clammy. "What? Why?"

"No more talking back to me, pet." Kirtch kept his voice steady.

(Reader) cried out, rapidly becoming exhausted from heavy nothingness filling their body. "Please.. stop.."

Kirtch nodded, appearing relieved. He pushed another button, and the emptiness ebbed away, leaving (Reader) numb.

"I don't understand why you're doing this." (Reader) weakly grumbled, too tired to pick themselves up.

"Because I want you to be happy."

"I'll never be happy with you."

"Why?"

"Because! I deserve to be loved!"

"I love you-"

"Fucking liar." (Reader) snarled, knowing that this would cause them to be punished again, but needing to get in the last word. Kirtch looked so miserable, so crushed by (Reader's) words, but they felt vindicated by his pain. They needed to twist the knife deeper.

He smiled, so sadly, and grabbed a blanket, bending onto one knee as he covered his pet. "I love you, (Reader)."

Their heart clenched, and their face flushed. Immediately they searched his hands for the remote. "S-stop that."

"I love you."

Chemicals pumped into their neck, making (Reader) feverish and causing their thighs to ache. Their breath hitched, and tears of betrayal escaped. "I hate you."

"I know."

More pain gripped their throat, regret causing physical discomfort. "Why are you doing this?"

His smooth shelled fingers caressed their jaw, tenderly cradling (Reader's) face as though he needed them. Kirtch's touch sent shivers across (Reader's) skin, and they couldn't tell if it was because of the collar or their loneliness, but they wanted to pull him closer, make him touch them more.

"I will live for much longer than you. I will watch you grown old, and die. Even then, I will still love you. You are the most incredible creature I've ever met. I don't mind if you push me away, and slap at me. I just want you to be happy, at least most of the time." His head grew closer, his hardened face almost brushing (Reader's). "Let me make you happy."

'I need to fight back. Make him pay! I'm practically a slave! He bought me! I'll never see my family again because of him!'

(Reader) leaned forward, mind melting through their ears from the intense heat, and smashed their lips onto where his should have been.

All rational thoughts were drowned out by the intense need. They needed him, his love. (Reader) was aware of the sound of buttons clicking, but they couldn't stop, crawling onto Kirtch's body, feeling the edges of his joints scraping their back as his hands hungrily roamed their body, wanting to touch everything.

They would have felt ashamed, knowing how aroused they were, their exposed body touching Kirtch's stomach. Sweat was clinging to (Reader's) skin, and their eyes drooped stupidly. The only thing they could think of was relieving themselves, and wanting to see Kirtch relieved as well.

"Are you going to fuck me?" (Reader) whined between wet kisses, drunk on his touches.

"I will, if you want me to."

Their mood shifted, frustration beginning to surface again. "No. If you love me, wouldn't you want me?"

Kirtch sighed, fiddling with the remote behind (Reader's) back. "I do not have the same nervous system as humans do. We only engage in sexual acts for the purpose of procreation."

Shame shocked (Reader), sobering them up instantly. "Oh. I- I am so sorry." (Reader) moved to get off of Kirtch, but was held in place by the much stronger being.

"I will, to make you happy."

"No, I'm sorry! It won't make me happy knowing you aren't feeling good. I'm-I'm sorry, please let me go."

Kirtch pressed the button again, watching his pet's face darken and their mouth go from frightened to slack jawed. "Knowing you are feeling pleasure, from me, and only me, will bring me more joy than I can express." His cloak was ripped away, revealing his gorgeously colored exoskeleton. Kirtch gripped (Reader's) face tighter, forcing his blue tongue deep into their mouth, bursting with pride at the sounds (Reader) was making.

"What do you want me to do?" Kirtch asked, not intending on sounding like he was teasing them, but Kirtch craved the sound of their voice begging him.

"Please.." (Reader) swallowed their drool, feeling the hormones pumping into their brain, but too horny to care. "Please fuck me."

The spot on his pelvis where a human's genitals would be split open and a long, slimy cock revealed itself, growing behind (Reader's) back to a horrifying size. (Reader) only became aware of his erection when it fell forward, slapping against (Reader's) ass and lower back. In their intoxicated state, they turned back to look at what had suddenly touched them, and their eyes grew large in surprise. "Is that..? That's too big..."

Off balance and tipsy, (Reader) turned around, still sitting on Kirtch's abdomen, so that they were facing his exposed dick, and touched it experimentally. It was ridiculously huge, but because of the hormones being injected into (Reader's) neck, they were ravenous, using both hands to pump up and down on the shaft as they stuck the thin tipped head into their mouth, tasting Kirtch passionately. Kirtch was beyond elated, watching his precious pet so needy for him.

Kirtch picked (Reader) up, moaning at the popping sound as he pulled their mouth away from his body, seeing nothing but love in (Reader's) eyes as he spun them back to face him, and slowly began lowering (Reader) onto his naturally lubricated member. "Keep looking at me."

(Reader's) mind was hazy, and it felt like they were about to die, saliva and alien fluids leaking out their mouth and down their chin. Their internal voice had gone silent, the amount of tampering that had been done to their brain left (Reader) devoid of rational thought and intellect. "Yes sir." They barely got the words out as Kirtch entered their body, sliding into their needy little hole easily and without resistance, ramming himself in so their pelvis smacked into his shell with a wet plop, bringing (Reader) to a climax just from entering.

"Smile for me, pet." Kirtch cooed joyfully, loving how (Reader's) body spasmed, before slowly lifting them up, revealing the trail of their combined wetness stretching between their reproductive organs.

(Reader) smiled, reacting on autopilot as they rode out their orgasm, practically biting off their tongue when their sensitive body connected with Kirtch's again. "Ahhh, I already came! Stop!!" Their words cried for relief, however their voice and smile demanded more. It was too much, and (Reader) did want a break, but it also felt amazing, and that dirty little part of themselves that was desperate for love needed their body to be abused.

Kirtch bounced (Reader) on his cock, fucking them like a toy, regretting that he didn't have a camera rolling to capture just how adorable his pet was in his hands. "Look at how happy you are, pet! Don't you want to be this happy all the time? Don't you always want to be happy, with me?"

Kirtch greedily pushed the button again, peppering (Reader) with kisses as they came again, their sticky juices splattering on his stomach. The squelching sound of (Reader's) bruising body getting fucked by the hard as steel monster beneath them was music to Kirtch's ears. He had, embarrassingly, read the book his friend had lent him, and knew now how humans used pleasure to keep brainwashed people by their side. But it wasn't just pleasure, it was that feeling of connection. He had thought about what (Reader) had said, that humans don't jack off their pets, and that made sense, for animals that did not share the same level of intelligence as an adult human. What (Reader) needed, was to feel equal, to feel like they weren't just a pet, but a partner. So how would they feel, if Kirtch ejaculated so deep into their body they were still excreting his cum weeks later?

"I'm going to mark you as mine, (Reader)." It was a lie, his species did no such thing, but the look of unbridled joy on (Reader's) cross eyed face, the loopy smile that twitched as tears poured down to their chest, was a sight that made it worth lying.

"Are you cumming? Are you cumming in me?" (Reader) slurred, barely holding themselves upright in Kirtch's grasp.

"If you promise to be a good little pet." Kirtch could hold out for as long as needed. His species did not have sex for pleasure, so there was no sense of urgency when they needed to release. He could have continued going for hours, if he hadn't overdone it with the collar. (Reader) was on the verge of passing out.

"I promise! I promise to be a good pet! I promise!" (Reader) exclaimed, colliding their lips back onto Kirtch's as a string of hot sperm shot up into (Reader's) body, a fluid so thick it was practically glue, leaving (Reader) feeling physically full. Kirtch couldn't help but push the button again, seeing his pet overflow with adoration for him.

"I love you, (Reader), I really really do."

Kirtch whispered sweet nothing's into his pet's ear as they passed out, then carried them to his bed, tucking in their swollen body, not minding the mess. (Reader) really was the most beautiful and adorable little pet in the entire universe. He doubt that he would ever get another pet after (Reader) was gone. He sat on the floor, rubbing circles into their tear stained cheeks, smiling contently.

Of course, the next day Kirtch would have to use the collar, showing (Reader) how bad they truly felt inside when they refused to get out of bed, and while it was awful making them cry when they tried to refuse to eat, it was for the best. Kirtch knew it wouldn't take long for (Reader) to graduate from needing their collar, and that soon they would always be by his side, begging him to pick them up and play with them. It didn't matter whether (Reader) needed cuddles or needed to be filled with his seed, Kirtch would overuse that remote until they desired his touch all the time.

He didn't mind the glassy, doll like glaze to their eyes, the change in their speech, the way they began crying whenever it looked like Kirtch was unhappy, or how they stopped pushing him away. After months of flushing their system with artificial love, Kirtch knew that his pet was happy with him. And that was all that mattered.

#yandere #yandere alien #yandere alien x reader #pet human #cw dubcon #mind break #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #cw mind control #part three

4K notes · View notes

roseyodditea · 3 months

Text

Just Fix It - Wriothesley x gn! Reader

Summary -> 1.2k words. Your repair work is interrupted and then ruined by The Duke himself.

Warnings -> Swearing, Minor injuries.

A/N -> I love the idea of being a mechanic in Meropide. lmk if it's actually interesting to anyone that isn't me and I can write more. I'm just testing the waters with this one lmao

**********

For the first time in a long time, the halls of the Fortress of Meropide were quiet. The consistent and loud clanging of heavy machinery was absent, much to the pleasure of a lot of the prisoners. However, prisoners that were close to the elevator could hear the shouting of the scariest man under the water and the most stubborn person to probably ever exist. The shouts of The Duke and you, the head mechanic of the Fortress.

“Get down from there!” Wriothesley shouted at the top of one of the large presses in the production zone where you stood, 10 feet in the air. His tone was half amused and half frustrated.

“You aren’t my boss! I don’t take orders from you!” You chuckled, standing in triumph on top of the machinery, holding nothing but an angle grinder. “I am literally your boss!” You let out a scoff. “I am an employee of the Fontaine Research Institute of Kinetic Energy Engineering. I am on loan to you, bitch.” A few of the newer prisoners looked away in fear as you insulted The Duke, not understanding the dynamic between the two of you.

“How much longer do you have on the repairs?” He rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh in front of others.

You scoff and return to cutting off some of the warped metal of the old press. “Not too much longer. I’m just cleaning up some metal that’s causing some of that god-awful screeching. I could fix it faster if you stopped distracting me.”

“Just hurry up and fix it. You’re wasting my precious time.” “What, you planning on dying soon, old man?” You snort to yourself and duck as a wrench is thrown dangerously close to your head, the guards and prisoners in the production zone moving to quickly leave now that metal was being thrown around. You put down the angle grinder and stand up, looking down at Wriothesley. “Say that again.” He looks at you with that cocky smirk you’ve grown to love and picks up a hammer from the toolbox you left on the ground.

“Careful there. That’s heavy, you might throw out your back trying to toss that all the way up here.” You taunt and hold your arms out wide, making yourself a bigger target.

Wriothesley was throwing the hammer when the high-pitched sound of someone clearing their throat caused your blood to run cold. “Need I remind you both of the strict safety procedures we have in place?” Sigewinne’s voice immediately caused you to panic, looking away from Wriothesley, not realizing the hammer had already left his hand. You were about to say something when the hammer flew towards you. Panic ran through your body as instinct took over, dodging backwards, but losing your footing and falling off of the top of the machinery. Before you fully realized you were falling a ramp of ice emerged and broke your fall, but causing you to catch your wrist as the transition from ice to metal flooring caused you to roll. You didn’t even try to get up, a throbbing sensation in your wrist overpowering you. Two sets of footsteps approached you quickly. Sigewinne grabbed the wrist you landed on and furrowed her eyebrows, your body relaxing now that you knew you were in good hands.

“It’s just a sprain. It should heal just fine in a month” Sigewinne went to grab one of the first aid kits always kept in the production zone. She took out some wraps to help stabilize your wrist when Wriothesley grabbed it from her.

“I’ll take care of it. It’s my fault they got injured in the first place.” He nodded at Sigewinne and she took that as an order to leave the both of you alone. He took your wrist in his hand and began to gently wrap it. “I’m sorry. That was stupid of me.”

You tried to ignore the pain in your wrist and chuckled. “Yeah, it kinda was.” You watch his hands move around yours shockingly delicately, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looks down at your hand. “It’s really not a big deal. This isn’t the worst sprain I’ve gotten from climbing on equipment like that. I should have expected it.” Wriothesley shakes his head. “Stop that. This is serious. I hurt you and now you can’t work.” “Oh come on. You have plenty of other mechanics at your beck and call that will come to fix this and do it safer than I would.” You were met with silence, Wriothesley still focused on your wrist, refusing to look up into your eyes. “Unless you have a personal attachment to this one?”

“How bad does it hurt?” He tried to push down the lump he found stuck in his throat, but it still made his voice crackle in a way you hadn’t heard before. “Oh my god, you do have an emotional attachment.” You move your wrist closer to your body. Wriothesley doesn’t seem to notice and moves closer. “Just tell me how bad it hurts. I can get you some medicine from the infirmary, or I can-” “Oh shut up.” You pull him even closer, but this time he notices. Neither of you make any move to back away from each other. “I’m not worried about my wrist anymore. Something more interesting came up.” Wriothesley finishes wrapping your wrist, the support lessening your pain. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and you feel a chill creeping up your arm, his cryo vision glowing subtly as he tries to soothe the inevitable swelling. “I find your company enjoyable. You bring a sense of fun and light I never could afford to have in my life until recently. And the fact that you’re willing to consistently make the trip down here to this damp metal prison means a lot.” He sighs and shakes his head. “And for some stupid reason, I got wrapped up in the moment and threw a hammer at you when you were already in a precarious situation without any sort of safety harness on.” He fully sat down instead of just awkwardly crouching over you.

“And who’s fault is it I wasn’t wearing a safety harness?” “Mine. I’m your boss and I’ve been letting you get away with not wearing one for far too long.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “You’re not technically my boss. You don’t even sign my paychecks.” “Can’t you let me have anything?” He lets a playful smirk grace his face, the chill making you forget all about your pain. “You’re one of the few people I trust with half the old equipment in this prison. What am I going to do for the next month while you’re healing?”

You moved to rest your head on his shoulder. “You know I’d make a good supervisor.” You wiggle your wrist out of his grip and slide your arm to hold his hand, not minding they were still ice cold.

“For me or other mechanics?” He asked with a hopeful tone in his voice, leaning in slightly.

“I think you know that answer.” You lean in the rest of the way, placing a quick and gentle kiss on his lips.

“Hmm. I‘ve never heard of that supervision strategy.” “You’re a fucking idiot”

**********

#wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley #oneshot #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #i love him so much

409 notes · View notes

lani-heart · 5 months

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 4.2K

abstract -> "Lets make it up to eachother!"

y/n's perspective

“She’s awake! Get the doctor!” I heard and my vision was doubled while my head was throbbing. Where was I? The last thing I remember was…

“Then why don’t you run?”

Did he actually run? Was he finally free like he wanted? How does a hybrid escape without pretending to be human? Oh yeah… the black market.

If he did... I hope it was successful and not all for nothing.

“y/n? How are you feeling?” I heard and I looked to my side. “Jeno… how’s school been?” I offered him a smile and didn’t have to see his face to know he was concerned for me. “Good, I've been focusing on this internship and well I try my best to not lose sleep,” he said and I smiled. “Haechan should learn from you,” I said and I heard his soft laughter.

“How… are they?” I asked and he sighed. “Let’s get you checked out first. I’ll let Taeyong-hyung explain,” he said and I knew it was probably bad.

“Y/n the doctor is gonna come in and do some tests, you’ll be given pain medication and you currently have stitches so this will scar. We’ll set up future appointments” I heard as I saw Johnny enter the room.

I wonder if they're okay.

seonghwa’s perspective

Last week we were finally let out. That would mean she's dead or alive to have them do action. I don't know what they did to San or Hongjoong yet. But I was in observation to see if I should be considered for a breeding farm.

I heard them talk… I had no chance of adoption. My only option was a hybrid farm where their only purpose is to reproduce. It also gave me little hope that she was alive.

I know she’s scared of me… but she would’ve tried to convince them otherwise. I also did hear that Yeosang and Wooyoung were code greens ready for adoption but Wooyoung has been in the medical wing.

“If I could, those tigers would be shipped off. Hongjoong is excessively violent, he killed her. What am I supposed to tell San? Or Wooyoung? Those hybrids are far too dependent on her. If they knew, San would become a bigger threat to himself and Wooyoung would join him” I heard. She was dead…?

I may have not had a lot of hope but a part of me hoped she was alive. Oh, Hongjoong… we caused a mess.

“Seonghwa, you have a check” I heard as they opened my curtain. I saw the employee now opening the glass door. “I’m sorry,” I said… and he looked at me confused.

“If… if I didn’t help her she’d still be alive. Even then I could’ve stopped–" "Seonghwa none of this is your fault, I'm sorry your future isn’t looking too bright,” he said and I felt the tears run down my face.

“My future was never meant to bright”

yeosang's perspective

She was alive. I knew she had to be… there's no way she'd die.

I was in isolation. My records unfortunately were publicly known when I was in here. The accident at a popular apartment complex where politicians, CEOs, and even idols lived took pictures of what happened. They warned me… she called in asking if I was gonna be put up for adoption. If… she was dead. I would get a horrible punishment for defying her… maybe even move the country?

“Yeosang, are you ready for some air?” I heard one of the employees. I remember him being called… Jaemin? He was a friend of hers. “Any news?” I asked and he sighed.

“Don’t worry, she’ll be fine” he said and I nodded. “Do you believe that?” I asked and it caught him off guard. He was supposed to make me feel better. I know he’s not allowed to say anything…

“Look… she’s the strongest person I know. The last time I saw her, Johnny promised to make sure she was alright and my friend worked with him. She’s in a stable condition”

liar. He was lying…

“You don’t believe me do you?” he asked and I shook my head.

“She’s… not in stable condition. In fact, they're trying their best to monitor her at all times–” “What’s wrong with her?” I asked and he sighed. We started walking outside as he looked to think about what he’d say.

“Hongjoong when he clawed her jaw hit a vein connected to her heart. The week before when Kun was there, she flatlined but I know she’s stable now we just need her to wake up. If not she might be in a coma for longer than we’d hope” he explained and I could only feel hatred for those tigers and myself… I pushed her, and I misinterpreted her feelings. She was scared of them… and even us.

“Is there hope?” I asked and his smile said everything. It was forced and I could see the glassy look in his eyes. “There's always hope”

Liar.

wooyoung’s perspective

“Wooyoung you need to eat, we don’t want to put you up with the purple code hybrids. She’s not gonna be happy when–” “How can she feel anything? She’s not here… she’s dead isn't she?” I cut him off. The doctor sighed and shook his head.

“No, she's not dead,” he said and I didn’t believe him.

“Do it for her… don’t you think she’ll be distraught to see you in a worse state than before? When she saw you she said she was heartbroken. To know that you were a depressed hybrid… that those who promised her to take care of you weren’t–" "She’s not here!” I yelled.

“Let me mourn her… she isn’t coming back,” I said and I was fully convinced. She would’ve been here already, she’s gone. I should’ve been there.

“Wooyoung you need to take care of yourself, your weight is dropping and you’ll start to get sick..” I turned him out. I didn’t feel hungry… not when I used to live a fantasy almost two weeks ago now. I was hopeful at first…

but then she never came back.

san’s perspective

The world… stopped.

My world stopped… code purple. For hybrids who are dangerous to themselves, mainly ones who experience such stress, or depression they harm themselves.

Would it be so bad to be with her again? Constrained and isolated… How was Wooyoung doing? Was he like me?

I missed the feeling of that collar on my neck, the feeling of her warmth, I miss her. Where is she? How long has it been since I've been here?

Surely only a few hours… I wonder when she’ll be here. Maybe in a few hours?

“San, how are you feeling?” I heard and I finally saw someone after they put me here. “I’m… tired,” I said, I was tired, my mind felt like I was spinning and I felt sick.

“Do you remember what I told you last time?” he asked me. “What?” I asked and he sighed. “San, I've been here three times a day for two weeks now,” he said and I was confused. I laughed, “It's only been a few hours…” I said and he shook his head.

“I’ll remind you later, today we thought it would be good to take you outside” he said and I shook my head. “San, do you remember when you arrived here after the fight? You lost any sense of time and thought you lived the same day over and over again. You improved so much afterwards… she would want you to improve and get adopted again” he said and I shook my head.

“I am adopted, she’s my mate” I said and he sighed almost like he was tired.

“San, we’ve been having the same conversation for the past two weeks, almost three times a day”

hongjoong’s perspective

My hands felt dirty… They didn’t let me go to the cells anymore.

I need to get rid of her blood. I didn't mean to kill her. I… where was Seonghwa? Was he okay? Did he get adopted already? Maybe she’s alive and she took them… but not me.

I don’t deserve it… besides living with humans? I hate them… I hate her… but I want to apologize. I hope she’s okay. I want her to be okay. But is she? Why would they send me away if that's the case, they were preparing to send me off.

I was slowly accepting what I was destined for… I was gonna die. Born into a circus, I was always gonna die.

“You’re scheduled to leave in three days” I heard. It was the main doctor… “Dr. Doyoung will take you in to check your wounds,” he said and I was unchained from the ground to be led to the medical wing.

He knocked on the door when it revealed another employee… and Wooyoung? He looked… starved. His eyes looked lifeless and dark circles prominent.

He looked up at me to not even react. They led him away, speaking to him in a cheerful voice as if wanting to cheer him up. “You ruined the lives of four hybrids,” the behaviorist said to me.

“What's wrong with him?” I asked and he scoffed.

“The healthiest right now is probably Seonghwa and Yeosang. Yeosang though is still clinging to her being alive, while Wooyoung has refused to be cooperative with this severe depressive episode, even San has lost all sense of time and is worse. All humans aren't evil, but you let that control you and even ruined your own chance to actually live” he said as I went inside the room to see the doctor.

I… I'm sorry…

y/n’s perspective

“Two weeks?” I asked and they nodded. “Johnny and Jeno tried their best to take care of you… but you were asleep for two weeks and they thought for a minute your body was in shock, especially after your flatline last week.

“I… what?” I was confused with everything. Two weeks I was out… What happened to them? “You’re okay physically, the tests they've done should help and it looks like they helped you gain some strength to walk despite being comatose for two weeks” he explained and I nodded.

“Curious about anything?” Taeyong asked and I wanted to ask but I was scared. “I’m curious. Curious as to why you were suddenly scared of your hybrids. Kun told me that your hybrids said you started to be detached and started avoiding them and it was clarified that you were scared” he said and I nodded.

“When I did the interviews… Hongjoong mentioned that hybrids do anything to survive even if they pretend to like their owners” I said and he laughed at me. “You’ve clearly forgotten how those three looked at you. Wooyoung used to– actually has been obsessed with you for years, Yeosang is the most overprotective hybrid i've ever seen and San? He loves you… he was your first hybrid and he… he’s a code purple right now” he said and i stopped. I felt frozen…

“A… a code purple?” I said hoping I heard wrong and he nodded.

“He’s lost track of time… he thinks it's been hours. His mind is scattered in events, sometimes he’ll think he’s there because he attacked you and become depressed, or he’ll think the attack was minutes before and scream that he’ll kill that tiger. The worst of it is, right now… he’s waiting for you to show up in front of him. He thinks it's been hours and you’ll recover soon, for him it hasn't been two weeks”' he explained and he wiped my cheek.

“He… he’s no, you're messing with me. San… I need to see him!” I declared and he grabbed my elbow. “You shouldn't be so rash. No one knows you’ve recovered… Kun thinks you're as good as dead. He was there when you flatlined and thought there's no hope” he said and everything was overwhelming.

“I need to see him,” I pleaded and he smiled. “And we will, just let me go to the station first. We’ll go later today, I want to take you back home–" "No” I refused and he sighed.

“The blood is clean… Wonyoung had people clean your apartment–" "It won’t feel right with them not there” I argued and he sighed.

“Give me a few hours then, I'll call Yuta and Shotaro, they'll take care of you,” he said and I sighed. “I’m a grown woman I don’t need to be taken care of” I argued and he nodded.

“Okay… but they’ll meet with you to make sure you're okay, '' he said and I nodded. “I can walk–” “I need time alone… I know where they work” I said and he nodded. “Be careful, you just–” “Taeyong please” I pleaded and he nodded as he left.

I couldn't stop the tears flowing down. I was an idiot… I doubted them and I failed Hongjoong… I need to talk to him–

“Why are you crying again?” I heard as I noticed a man in front of me. It was the man that helped me before. “It's been a long day” I answered and he nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, but please don’t cry, surely whatever it is it can be fixed?” he said with a cheerful smile. “Have you ever owned a hybrid?” I asked and his eyes widened. “Only one,” he said and I nodded. “How do you know their feelings are genuine and they actually love you?” I asked and he chuckled.

“That's an interesting question… Well, hybrids are known for faking they care but that's a rare few. If you treat them with love and care I can assure you they will be the same” he said and I nod.

“What if they fake it though, even if you love them to the best of your ability?” I asked and he hummed. “Well, a hybrid can fake words, but the things they do have meaning. Where– I mean hybrids are like animals by the end of the day. They have animal habits they follow, like uhm bunnies circle around their owners, fox hybrids are dependent on owners and usually bond to one person for the rest of their life–" "What about canines and panthers?” I asked and he chuckled.

“That's a weird pair?” he laughed and I smiled.

“Well, panther hybrids only really expose themselves to their owners when they fully trust them so sleeping is a big one. Uhm… panthers are actually known to cook or feed their mates as an act of love? –” San often would feed me off his own plate and make me eat more… and he would always say how he preferred sleeping in my room.

He was showing he trusted me…

“– Dog hybrids however, are known to scent their mates and groom them? So dog hybrids will often fix their owners hair or males would often scent their owner to tell others to back off” he explained and suddenly Yeosang made much more sense to me.

“I can tell you're a good hybrid owner… any hybrid would be lucky for someone to care about them like you do” he said and I smiled.

“Thank you…?” I didn't know his name. “Oh? Uhm my name! My name is… Yunho” he said and I smiled. “Thank you, Yunho! My name is y/n” I said and he smiled.

“It was my pleasure, ah! I think you dropped this?”

Yuta and Shotaro were spamming my phone.

I was now in front of the infamous building… The Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center.

I entered and I was immediately greeted by a shocked Haechan. I smiled at the boy who couldn’t even produce a sentence. “YOU'RE OKAY!” he yelled and I laughed as he hugged me tight. “We were convinced you weren’t gonna wake up” he muttered and I ruffled his hair. “Where's Kun?” I asked and he sighed. “Kun cares about you a lot… so does Doyoung but Kun sees you like his little sister–”

“Haechan, what's going on with him?” I asked and he sighed

“He’s planning on sending Wooyoung and San to Jeju’s Rehabilitation Center, as for Yeosang… There's a threat of legal action with his previous owner, Seonghwa is going to be moved to a breeding farm, and Hongjoong is being sent out of Korea '' he explained and I was speechless.

“W-What?” I asked and he nodded. “Kun right now is out but he’ll be back soon–” “Take me to San,” I said and he shook his head. “Only Kun and Doyoung have the key to get in there… and you're not supposed to be allowed without them knowing,” he said and I smiled.

“Please, let me see one of them?” I asked and he nodded. “I can take you to Yeosang,” he said and I nodded. He talks to have someone come get me and lead me to Yeosang.

“y/n?” I heard and saw Renjun. I smiled softly and offered a hug. “I'm so glad you're okay! When did you get discharged” he asked and I sighed. “Maybe two hours ago?” I said and he scoffed. “You should be resting–” “I need to see if they're okay” I cut him off and he nodded.

He leads me around the green code hybrids seeking adoption until we go towards the ones who have not been cleared for adoption.

“He’s missed you a lot,” he said and I smiled. He opened the curtain and I saw he was asleep. “Jaemin has been trying his best to cheer up him and Wooyoung but it's been hard for them,” he said and I nodded. “I’m only doing this cause I know he won’t hurt you and he is still your hybrid,” he said as he opened the kennel and waited for me to enter.

I nod and go in to kneel close to his bed. I pet his ears softly as he whined and opened his eyes slightly. “Hello, sleeping beauty,” I said and his ears flattened on his head.

“Are you real?” he asks as he grabs my hand, tightening it as if I'd disappear. “I’m real, Yeosang,” I said and he sat up looking at me for what felt like a few minutes before he started crying.

“Please, be real! I… I miss you” he said as he hugged me tightly. I rubbed it back as he sobbed. “I’m here, I promise,” I said and he pulled away to look at me. I wanted to cry too… so many times I got into my head that he faked everything to hide away from his owner when I should’ve known better.

His hand cupped my jaw to where my bandages lay. “Does it hurt?” he asked and I smiled. “I’ll heal,” I said and he nodded.

“I’m sorry for making you adopt them–” “It's not your fault… I got in my own head. Hongjoong is rough around the edges–” “You shouldn’t defend him” he said angrily and I smiled.

“Yeosang…. He was wronged. I should’ve voiced my thoughts sooner, but he deserves a second chance. What you suggested was sweet… he’s lived tormented by humans so he deserves to feel loved even if he doesn't know how to accept it” I said and his eyes widened. He nods…

“You’re too good to be real. I still don’t believe you're actually here… maybe you're a true angel visiting me in my dreams'' he said and I chuckled. “I don’t have wings or a halo,” I said and he chuckled.

“Doesn’t mean you aren't an angel to me” he said and I smiled.

“y/n?” I heard and I looked behind me to see Doyoung. “Did Haechan tell you?” I asked and he nodded. “I-I’m, why didn’t they tell us you were awake?!” he asked and I smiled while looking at Yeosang. “Well, I did wake up two hours ago,” I said and Yeosang laughed. “You should be resting,” he said and I smiled.

“I know… Doyoung. Can I see San?” I asked and he sighed. “I don’t have the key… Kun has taken charge of seeing Hongjoong and San, I only see them to check up on them” he said and I nodded.

“And… Wooyoung?” I asked and he sighed almost nervously.

“He’s… he needs to see you”

Yeosang was gonna be checked one last time by Doyoung while he led me in front of Wooyoung’s kennel. “Be careful with him… he’s been worse than I've ever seen him” he said and Yeosang didn’t want to let go of my hand.

“I’ll be here when you're out, I promise,” I said and he didn’t look convinced. “When have I ever lied to you? Or broken a promise?” I asked and he nodded.

They leave me alone with Wooyoung’s key. I knock before opening the door… It's to tell the hybrid I'm going in. I open it and see that he’s already staring at the door. His eyes widened.

“y/n?” he said and I noticed how hoarse his voice was. How skinny he was… how tired he looked. “Hello, Woo,” I said, trying my best to offer a happy smile as I felt my vision blur. “You're… alive?” he said, confused and not moving.

“Missed me?” I said and I sat down on the floor to sit at eye level with him. “I…” he was speechless. I smiled as I hugged him… his tears and sobs broke my heart. The way he tightened his grip on my body and let out cries was the only thing I could focus on.

He struggled with words as he sobbed.

“I... I lost- any hope that you were alive!” he let out and I felt a serious ache in my heart. “I’m sorry,” I said and he shook his head as he let go and ghosted his hand on my jaw. “It's not your fault,” he said and I knew what he suggested.

“It's not his fault either… I should’ve talked about what I was feeling "I said and he said nothing but hugged me. We sat there on the floor with him hugging me in silence.

“Wooyoung '' I heard as I saw Yeosang in his regular clothes and his collar. “Yeosang?” he said as he lifted his head without letting me go to see his friend. “The doctor wants to see you so he can discharge you,” he said and he tightened his grip on me.

“I’ll still be here… you get to be in comfortable clothes and your collar again,” I said and he nodded letting go but did move to leave.

“She’ll still be here,” Yeosang said and Wooyoung nodded. “Can… Can we get food from that street food market?” he asked and I smiled. “Anything you want,” I said and he nodded. He leaves but not without looking at me one last time and giving me a slight smile.

Progress…

“Are you gonna take in those tigers again?” Yeosang asked and I sighed. “I hate how I… I want to give them a second chance. A better chance without me being scared of them… I took them in because they wanted a better life and I didn’t even try like I did with you, Wooyoung, and San” I explain and nod.

“I don’t trust them” he said and I smiled. “And you have every right to,” I said.

“y/n?” I heard and I saw Jaemin who looked at me with the biggest smile. “How are you doing?” I said and he chuckled. “You see Yeosang, she’s okay,” he said and Yeosang nodded. “Jaemin? Can you take me to Seonghwa?” I asked and he sighed. “The tigers are gonna be transferred–” “Kun can’t do that, I'm still their owner,” I said and he chuckled.

“You're the same as ever. Let me take you there then, I'd rather not be sued and in debt even more than I am” he said and I chuckled.

“Yeosang, stay here for Wooyoung,” I said and he shook his head getting ready to argue– “He needs someone here, and I’ll be back,” I said and he nodded reluctantly.

I followed Jaemin when I noticed he was also a code green hybrid. “Seonghwa, you have a visitor,” Jaemin said as he opened the curtain first.

He looked at me shocked.

“You're… I’m sorry! I should’ve stopped Hongjoong, please I-I’m so–” “Seonghwa it isn't your fault '' I said while giving him a smile and he looked at me with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry for not offering you what I did to my hybrids' ' I said and he looked confused. “You deserve a second chance… so does Hongjoong. Let me make it up to you” I said and he shook his head.

“I… I should be asking that of you!” he said desperately and I smiled.

“Let's make it up to each other then!” I said and he was frozen… “I… why do you still want me?” he asked and I shrugged. “You’re a sweet hybrid… a farm doesn’t suit you at all,” I said and I could see tears forming in his eyes.

“I… I really am sorry I wasn't–” “It's not your fault, you… were the sweetest. You tried so hard to earn a place with me and I know you deserve it. So I'm sorry for letting Hongjoong’s words get into my head, I really do think you deserve better Seonghwa '' I said and he was silent.

“Do you accept me?” I asked and he smiled softly.

“If you’ll take me”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

444 notes · View notes

101mobilemedicalsolutions · 8 days

Text

Employment Health Screenings - 101 Mobile Medical Solutions

Find the best employment health screenings with 101 Mobile Medical Solutions. We offer comprehensive screenings, ensuring workplace safety and employee well-being with reliable, on-site services.

#Mobile Medical Services in Alberton #Mobile Occupational Health Services in Alberton #Mobile X-Ray Services in Alberton #Employee Medical Screening in Alberton #Drug & Urine Testing Services in Alberton #Lung Function Testing in Alberton #Vision Screening Services in Alberton #Audiometric Hearing Testing in Alberton #Physical Examination Services in Alberton #On-Site Clinic Management in Alberton #Employee Wellness Programs in Alberton #Mining Health and Safety Solutions in Alberton

0 notes

ozzgin · 6 months

Note

Omg can we hear what the "there's only one bed" trope would be like with your yokai harem pleaseeee

Featuring your (not yet) monster boyfriends, and the classic case of having to share one bed due to unforeseen circumstances. You've been chasing a vengeful spirit back into the modern world, and the only inn - as you're in the middle of nowhere presently - has a single remaining room. Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, fluff with mild NSFW

Murasaki

"Where are you going?" you manage to blurt out, hurrying after the dark-haired yokai. "You may take the bed. I don't need sleep", he explains curtly as he places a hand over his sword. "I'll be keeping watch outside." Murasaki is stubborn, and you already know that no amount of arguing will convince him. As it's already late and you're quite exhausted, you do hesitantly crawl under the sheets while he positions himself next to the door. When you wake up for a bathroom break, you notice him breathing softly in a peaceful slumber. You might have to be creative with your tactics: You return to your room, pull on your clothing a little bit, and let out a frantic shout. The horned man scrambles up and barges inside, wildly confused. "I had a terrible nightmare, and thus, lamentably, I will be requiring your presence for the remaining hours of the night", you narrate theatrically, patting the empty half of the bed next to you. He clicks his tongue and furrows his brows in annoyance. As he approaches, you can discern a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "You can't be serious right now", he bemoans, removing the swords from his sash. "Pathetic." He begrudgingly shoves himself next to you and turns around. His ears are a deep shade of red. "Now shut up and go back to sleep."

Kiritsubo

"Does that mean we can share the bed?" Kiritsubo is beaming with enthusiasm as he waddles behind you towards the room. "I suppose so", you nod reassuringly, somewhat confused by his reaction. You've been sleeping next to each other from the very beginning, or at least ever since you've been awakened by one of his night terrors and offered to keep him company. "It's nothing new, though, is it?" "Well, this time it's in your world, you know?" he confesses, now a little embarrassed by his obvious excitement. He scratches his cheek awkwardly. "I s-suppose it's not that different, huh?" You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. There's one technical detail you've omitted in your generous offer: Kiritsubo is massive and terribly clingy. His muscular arms are wrapped tightly around you, and you can feel his hot breath in your ear. You try to free yourself by lifting your leg and shoving him with your knee, but he doesn't budge. Not only that, but you might've unintentionally aroused him in his sleep. It'll be a long night, you think as you try to ignore the boner pressing into your side.

Suma

"Well, at least we know who's taking the bed", the yokai jokes as the inn worker bows apologetically. "We're terribly sorry, sir, there's nothing...there's nothing here that could possibly..." their words trail off, gazing at Suma's enormous stature. Indeed, the human sized furniture looks ridiculous next to him. You wave your hand and dismiss the baffled employee. You can't blame them; you too were speechless during your first encounter with the demon. "What will you do?" you ask, sitting on the edge of the mattress. "I can sleep on the floor just fine!" He flashes you a smile and stretches his limbs. "If you get bored of that", he continues, pointing at the bed, "you can always join me". He pats his chest with a cheeky grin, chuckling at the sight of your now blushing face. Perhaps it's not such a bad offer. Then again, how comfortable is it to sleep on toned muscles? You sit up and decide to test it out yourself.

Yuugiri

"Oh my, what a pity. Well, it's only natural that you have priority." Yuugiri steps aside and gestures for you to come closer towards the bed. "We don't want our precious little human to be uncomfortable, hmm?" You want to protest, but he quickly places a pale, slender finger over your lips. "Unless..." he adds, this time in a deeper voice. He lowers himself painfully close to your face. "Unless you want us to sleep together. Although I can't promise to keep my hands to myself." You stutter awkwardly, and you can feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment. The yokai laughs at your flustered state, delighted by your reaction. "You always tease me", you finally manage to say, brushing past him and climbing under the sheets with an irritated huff. "Can you really blame me? You're always so cute~" After a moment of silence, you can feel a shuffle coming from behind you. "Jokes aside, do scooch over. I'm not going to sleep on the floor like an animal."

Sekiya

Sekiya stares at the bed and shivers. He dares not look in your direction. The thought of sharing a bed with a demon like him must've made you uncomfortable. Why else would you be so quiet? You're probably trying to come up with a polite way to retrieve your privacy. He won't let you struggle for a way out. He opens his mouth to excuse himself, but he's interrupted by your exhausted yawn. "Guess we'll sleep together, huh?" you remark, casually, as you unbutton your shirt. The lack of response prompts you to turn and search for the yokai, who is now visibly red and feverish, erratically fidgeting and twiddling his fingers. "W-what are you even saying..." he blurts out. Are you mocking him? You must know he's very much attracted to you. To think he'd be this close to your body...he shakes his head vehemently. Unimaginable! Then again, chances like these don't come all the time...

Sakaki

“We can share the bed if you’d like”, you suggest to the masked yokai. "No need to concern yourself with me. My nights are tormented, devoid of any rest. I will not be requiring a bed", he states melancholically, but with factual confidence. You don't think you can sleep with his shadow looming over at all times, so you insist that he at least attempts to lay down regardless of the outcome. He lets out a deep sigh and closes his eyes. Hmm. There's a certain warmth emanating from your body. He unconsciously drags himself closer, head now resting next to yours. The heat brings him comfort, and his muscles begin to relax. He'd even dare to say it's a pleasant experience. You jolt awake upon feeling a pair of arms wrapping around you, and you turn back in confusion. Sakaki swiftly hides his flustered face in the crook of your back. "Perhaps this isn't so bad, after all..." he mumbles quietly. "Don't mind me."

[Main Story] | [Character Guide]

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere yokai harem #yokai harem #yokai x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x human #monster x reader #monster romance #monster boyfriend #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #monster oc

632 notes · View notes

grandline-fics · 8 months

Text

Siren Song

DESCRIPTION: The first time they hear you sing captivates them

WARNINGS: None

CHARACTERS: Crocodile, Kid, Law, Marco, Ace

WORDS: 1,428

A/N: Don't know where this idea came from but wanted to use it to test writing for two characters I haven't tried yet.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

CROCODILE

Crocodile hated any form of weakness, it was something he always strived to wipe out from any avenues in his lie. In Baroque Works any sign that his subordinates were slipping, they were eradicated. When he ran his casino in Alabasta it was run to the highest quality even though it was merely a front to hide his shadier activities in the country. He held that same level of ruthlessness since getting out of Impel Down and starting the Cross Guild. While the clown had a more infantile and infuriating method to seeking out recruits and managing them, he was not so soft and he was more involved than how Mihawk chose to be with his share of employees under his command. Because of his workload, he needed assistance in some form.

Which was were you came in. You were the perfect balance of professionalism and personable that he needed to act as a mediator and relay messages to Mihawk and Buggy when he was in a mood to deal with neither. You did your tasks efficiently and without complaint or any need for further explanation. At the end of the day his business was still his and if you’d been the kind to pry into it, then that would have been your one and only mistake. Thankfully you’d proven yourself to be exactly what he needed, the only startling thing was that your recommendation came from Buggy. “Oh don’t give me that look, Croc! They’re so talented that even you will approve of them. Just give them a chance.” Buggy had told him and now he had to begrudgingly admit that the clown was right for once.

As he approached his private study for his day’s work he wasn’t surprised to hear you inside already assembling his tasks for his arrival. He was however caught off guard by the sound of your voice drifting through the partially open door. In all his travels he’d never heard singing quite like it and unable to resist he moved closer but tried to withhold any noise in his steps in fear you would stop. Crocodile watched you organise bounty posters and gathered intelligence into their appropriate piles and in order of importance, singing beautifully and unaware of your enraptured audience.

Suddenly the den-den mushi on his desk began to ring, causing you to stop your song and answer. Immediately Crocodile was snapped out of the spell you’d unintentionally placed on him and he entered, watching as your expression adopted it’s usual warm greeting when he appeared. As always he offered you a single nod but he eyed you almost warily as he slid into his seat at his desk. Quickly needing to be distracted from his thoughts of you and your voice he took over on the phone call while you took your place in your chair by the wall as you continued your work.

Crocodile didn’t like weakness but it was undeniable that in the moments he was listening to your singing, he was completely powerless. It worried him to know that there was a part of him that could be disarmed like that and he didn’t like it. Throughout the day he tried to tell himself that it was just a one off thing, he was just taken by surprise because he’d never heard you sing before that was all. That had to be the reason. However when he heard you humming to yourself later that day he stopped what he was doing completely and found his gaze being pulled into your direction.

Once again his reverie was broken only when you’d stopped. You tilted your head at Crocodile curiously, he hadn’t seemed himself all day. “You okay, Boss?” You asked watching as the man slowly blinked, snapping out of whatever daydream he’d been lost in. When he muttered out a sharp ‘I’m fine.’ you could only shrug and take him at his word, completely oblivious to the fact that he was most definitely not fine and it was all your fault.

KID

“I got a question for you,” You looked across the large table in the tavern to fix your gaze on Killer curiously, taken by his tone. The crew had only just arrived and had yet to have a single drop of alcohol yet. Usually the questions and more serious discussions arose after at least a few drinks. Still you let your expression show you were listening, intrigue getting the better of you. “Why don’t you ever sing?” That took you by surprise and you let out a small, unsure laugh that only grew when the others joined in now that it was pointed out.

“Yeah, you never join in when we’re all singing together and most of us sound like shit!” Wire joked while Kid barked out a laugh from behind you. “Speak for yourself, everyone knows I sound like an angel.” The table laughed loudly and you glance up as your Captain and boyfriend nudged your side to grab your attention. “So come on, why don’t you sing. You’re part of this crew so you can’t say it’s because you’re shy or anything.”

Slowly you sighed and knew that there was no point in telling any of them to drop it. If you ignored them now it would be the main topic of conversation and what they would pester you with for the foreseeable future. They were all like children, hellbent on getting an answer they deemed acceptable. “I don’t sing because I’m shy. I don’t sing because I know none of you are going to react well to it.”

“Aw you can’t be that bad.” Heat grinned, trying to comfort you but you shook your head.

“I didn’t say that. I’m not bad, I’m good. So just trust me when I say that if you hear me sing you will all react in a way that’s going to put a dampener on tonight.” You clarified just as the trays of drinks arrived. “Let’s just drink and have a nice time okay?” When everyone followed your lead and reached for their drink you really believed that the topic had been put to bed. More fool you.

As you all enjoyed each other’s company and spent the evening telling stories and jokes, everyone at the table still couldn’t quite ignore your bold statement and their interest had been well and truly ignited. When the evening was winding down into the more relaxed and less boisterous, Kid decided that as Captain he should be the one to brave the consequences and return to the topic. Slowly his arm that had been draped around your waist moved to lightly tap your thigh. Comfy in your position with your back against his side, you tilted your head back to look at him with a bright smile. “Will you sing now?” He asked watching your smile immediately drop into an annoyed scowl.

“I know what you’re going to say but we did as you asked. We all behaved and had a good night that’s almost winding down. So what’d’ya say? Sing one song before we have to head back to the ship?” You searched Kid’s eyes and slowly looked around at your crew, seeing they all looked at your with the same awaiting expressions. You rolled your eyes and set your mug on the table.

“On your own heads be it.” You warned as you settled back against your boyfriend. After taking a small breath you began to sing an old sea shanty you knew, letting your voice carry out over the tavern that immediately fell silent as the patrons halted their own conversations to listen. The second that you started to sing, Kid’s body froze and his loose grip around you tightened out of reflex, out of pure instinct to be drawn closer to you and your hypnotic voice. He didn’t think it was possible to fall even more in love with you.

At first he hadn’t truly understood what you meant that everyone would react badly to such a powerful and beautiful voice but when he felt the first tear fall from his eyes did he realise. Quickly blinking he looked around to see the rest of the crew and tavern were all staring with glassy, shimmering eyes while others were crying fully but just barely managing to suppress the sound. When you finished the song, Kid pulled you back to place a kiss against your hair. “Maybe you should only sing for me from now on. It's far too dangerous.” Well you did warn them.

486 notes · View notes

hippiegoth97 · 22 days

Text

Where Is My Mind?: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

Master List

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Description: It's your two-year anniversary with Eddie, and you both spend the evening exchanging 'gifts'...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: Smut, female reader, fingering, oral sex, squirting, consecutive orgasms, embarrassment, crying, overstimulation

Word Count: 4.8k

divider by @firefly-graphics

Where Is My Mind?

"Oh, God, Eddie!" You cry out as an overwhelming orgasm rocks through you. Your hands are tangled in Eddie's hair as he's been going down on you for the last hour or so. You’ve already cum three times, but he refuses to let up. You're soaked in sweat, your body sparking as he keeps licking and sucking on you to build you up again. "Baby, haven't you had enough? Your tongue must be getting tired." You whine, feeling your insides tighten in preparation for yet another orgasm.

He stops for a second to answer you. "Not at all angel, you taste so good. I could do this all night, and I love hearing you scream my name." He immediately dives back in, sticking his tongue inside your soaked cunt. His cock strains against his jeans, but he manages to get a little friction from kneeling against the side of his bed as he works on you.

Earlier tonight, the two of you had been celebrating your two-year anniversary. Eddie made spaghetti for dinner, and he gave you a beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers. He also made you a mixtape, one he said was perfect for eating you out. Eager to test it, he popped the tape into the portable stereo and pounced on you. You hadn't even had the chance to give Eddie his gift, he was too preoccupied stripping you of your clothes and kissing every inch of flesh on your body.

Eddie has managed to keep all of his clothes on, he knows he'll get what he desires from you soon enough. But he wants to show you just how much he loves you. You're his whole world, a queen ruling over his cynical heart. Until he met you, he'd never truly believed in love or romance before. He thought those things were just make-believe bullshit made up by The Man to force people into model nuclear families. But he swears the moment he laid eyes on you, everything changed for him.

Funnily enough, you'd met him in a land of make-believe, so to speak. A Renaissance Faire in Indianapolis, to be exact. You'd gone with some friends, the lot of you were highly obsessed with medieval times and the mythology surrounding it. Eddie went by himself, unable to convince anyone to go along with him. He figured this was the only way to experience anything resembling Lord of The Rings and D&D in real life. Neither of you had high expectations, you assumed it would be pretty cheesy or mostly meant for little kids.

Once you'd arrived however, what you saw before you blew your minds. The entrance to the Faire was a giant castle, with a moat and a drawbridge. Everyone was dressed up, and all the employees were deep within their characters. It was a fantasy nerd's paradise, you thought you'd died and gone to heaven. And you hadn't even stepped foot inside the fairgrounds yet. But once you paid the admission and walked through the gates, your brain exploded all over again.

There were stalls of handmade jewelry, wands, swords, leather-bound journals, costumes, tiaras, fairy wings, the list went on endlessly. A field was blocked off for the knights to joust on massive horses, and rows of games lined the other side of the grounds. There were fortune tellers, face painters, people dressed as fairies and elves and royalty. A regal food court boasted giant turkey legs, popcorn, many sweets and treats, and more than enough booze to knock you on your ass. It was all so much to take in, but in an odd way it felt like you'd been waiting to find a place like this your entire life.

You and your friends explored every inch of the Faire, unable to resist buying the cute trinkets from the little shops. You watched the noble knights joust for the honor of marrying the fine princess, the winner giving her a big kiss for everyone to see. It was surprisingly romantic, sending your heart aflutter. You've always loved mushy things like that, waiting for your own knight in shining armor to save you from your boring life.

After a while, your stomach started growling. Your friends wanted to keep playing the carnival games, one of which was throwing tomatoes at a jester's face as he insulted you. You told them you'd come right back, heading to the other side of the Faire to try one of those famous turkey legs. It's at this point that Eddie spotted you from afar, though you took no notice of him. Your stomach lead you blindly to the smell of roasting meat, blocking out everything else happening around you.

Eddie caught a glimpse of you as he was walking the other way to check out the games, stopping dead in his tracks. He saw you were dressed in a long, red chemise, which left your shoulders bare. A black, corseted overdress sat atop the chemise, pushing your tits up for the perfect amount of cleavage. Your hair was tied in braids, which were wrapped immaculately around your head. Some loose strands of hair framed your face, and he was instantly enchanted. He decided to follow you, to perhaps buy you an ale or something. He hadn't expected to really interact with anyone outside of the employees at the Faire, but you seemed special.

You sidled up to the stand selling the turkey legs, ordering one for yourself. You'd contemplated buying for your friends too, but the legs were probably too big to carry so many at that great of a distance. You paid for your food, and made your way to the busty woman selling beer. You were just about to order when you heard a voice speak to you. "May I be so bold as to buy a fair maiden some ale?" You turned to see where the voice came from, stunned to find a very handsome man standing before you. He was tall, slender, with long, curly hair and a devilish smile on his face. He was wearing a red, billowy shirt that exposed some of his chest, and tight, black leather pants that tied with laces in the front. Matching leather boots adorned his feet, and a rather large sword sat sheathed at his hip. His hand rested over the handle of the sword, which made you take notice of the chunky rings on his fingers. He was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, and he was talking to you.

You smiled at him, blushing at his deep brown eyes boring into you. "Why, thank you, kind sir. I'd be honored to indulge in a libation with you." You said, giggling at how silly you sounded with a terrible accent. He chuckled at you, reaching out for your hand. You gave it to him, blushing even harder when he planted a kiss to the back of it. He led you wordlessly to the line for drinks, ordering for you when it was finally your turn again. Once he paid, he found a nice quiet spot for you to talk. The two of you sat on a bench, knees touching as you positioned yourselves beside each other. You'd forgotten all about your turkey leg at this point, but you didn't really care to remember it when you were in the company of this mysterious man.

"So, what's your name, my lady?" He was still playing along, though you weren't sure how long the act could be kept up.

"Y/N. And yours?" You said coyly, sipping from your metal mug.

"Eddie, it's nice to meet you, Y/N. What brings you to the Faire?" He chugged some of his own drink, belching loudly which made you laugh. "Pardon me." He said sheepishly, wiping his mouth with his hand.

"I'm here with some friends. We've always liked medieval stuff, so we figured this would be a fun time." You couldn't keep speaking in Olde English, it was giving you a headache to think of the correct phrasing. Eddie took notice, relaxing his shoulders as it seemed he was also struggling to keep up. "What about you, Eddie? Are you here with anyone?" You asked, worried that maybe he had a girlfriend or something. A man as handsome as he was, he had to be taken, right?

"Nope, I'm here all on my lonesome. Well, until I saw you, the most gorgeous young woman I've ever seen." He put a hand on your knee suggestively, which made you tense up. You were struck by his words, no man had called you something so flattering before. Your eyes met his again, and you couldn't resist licking your lips. He continued speaking, much lower in volume. "And I also quite enjoy 'medieval stuff' as you called it, though I think you already figured that out." You set down your beer, and he put his aside as well. He brushed one of the stray strands of hair behind your ear, smoothly making a move to cup your cheek afterwards. "May I kiss you, princess?" He asked softly, his breath shaking with nerves. You'd barely spoken to each other, and yet there you were, centimeters away from your lips meeting.

"Yes, kind sir. You may." You replied, too caught up in anticipation to laugh. He closed the gap between you, gently pressing his mouth to yours. He tasted like beer, and tobacco. You were instantly hooked, pulling on his shirt collar to bring him closer to you. You both moaned down each other's throats, enamored by how thrilling it was to kiss someone you'd just met. You began to feel quite warm, tempted to straddle his lap right there for anyone to see.

A little bit later, the jester from earlier brought everyone's attention to you. He ran up to your bench, standing behind you as you kissed. "Well, it seems we doth have some rather rambunctious lovers in our midst! Perhaps we shall quell their burning lust, lest they shed their clothes for all eyes to see!" The jester jumped in the air, ringing a loud bell which hurt your ears. You broke apart, blushing madly at being called out. Passersby stopped to see this display, eager to watch your public humiliation. "Ah, and you dare to waste such fine ale? In favor of lashing tongues at one another? For shame!" He shouted, and the crowd mimicked his final words.

"FOR SHAME!" The bystanders were all laughing at you, though it was all in good fun. The jester picked up your mugs, holding them over your heads. You looked to Eddie, unsure of what to do. All he could do was stare back, blushing just as hard as you were while he shrugged his shoulders.

"FOR SHAME!" The jester laughed maniacally, dumping the remains of your drinks onto your heads. You shrieked as the cold beer soaked through your clothes and hair. You stood up, swatting at the jester in an attempt to hit him. He quickly dodged your blow, tutting at you. Eddie reached out to reel you in, but you took no notice. "Oh! I see you have quite the fire inside you, young maiden! Methinks one ought to quench thine whorish flames!" You felt another cold splash of liquid rain down onto you, much larger than the last. Eddie gasped, horrified that these people would go so far to humiliate you. You turned back around to see a burly man holding a large wooden bucket, which you guessed previously held the water that was poured onto your head. You glared at the jester again, unamused at getting soaked like that. "Oh, sweet lady. I beg thee to calm thyself. 'Tis all in good 'jest'!" He laughed again, dancing a jig before he went on his merry way. The onlookers also left to go about their business, the little show was over. Your friends caught the end of it, watching as you struggled to stand upright, the ground beneath you melting into sloppy mud.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Eddie asked quietly, reaching for your arm. You flinched at first, still shaken from being made a fool by the fool. You just nodded, trying not to cry. You knew it was just a joke, and you had made the mistake of making out in public when the performers loved any opportunity to make a silly interaction. Eddie pulled you close, innocently holding your waist to calm you. "I'm sorry, this is all my fault." He sounded sad, guilty for causing this whole ordeal.

"It's alright, I should've seen that coming. I'd heard the workers can be quite mischievous." You wiped your face with your hands, and your group came up to ask what happened. They were also very intrigued to find out who the handsome man next to you was. You explained it all, introducing them to Eddie. They eyed him up and down, making various approving noises or remarks in the most unsubtle way. You tried to apologize to Eddie for their rudeness, but he thought nothing of it, in fact he found it quite flattering. He walked with you and your friends to the exit, considering you being drenched made it quite uncomfortable to stay at the Faire.

You'd coincidentally parked your car right next to his van, and he clumsily dug around inside his vehicle to find a scrap of paper to write down his phone number for you. Eddie kissed you again before you parted ways, his wet hair rubbed against your cheeks as he slipped the paper into your hands. The feeling of his lips on yours stole the air from your lungs, but a warning honk from your friends signaled it was time to let him go. You held that little scrap of paper tightly the whole way home, eagerly dialing him later that evening. And the rest was history, from that moment on, you and Eddie had been inseparable.

Returning to the present, Eddie's tongue is furiously flicking against your clit to drive you over the edge for the fourth time this evening. An endless flow of moans falls from your lips, and Eddie drinks it all in. He loves the sounds you make, they're so vulgar and beautiful at the same time. He inserts two fingers into your soaking pussy, taking his mouth away to have a small break.

Eddie's eyes scan over your glistening body, watching you squirm and ball up the sheets with your hands. Your tits bounce as every touch he gives you makes your body jolt. Tears stream down your cheeks, your mouth fixed agape. "You're so gorgeous like this, sweetheart. So perfectly fucked for me. Do you want me to make you cum again?" He purrs at you, pumping his fingers inside you teasingly. His pace is excruciatingly slow, it brings you right to the edge without letting you fall off.

"Yes, please! I'm very close, Eds. Make me cum, I can't take the teasing." You're so needy for him, your tone making his cock even harder as you speak. He picks up speed, watching your head dig further into the pillow. Your back arches off the bed, and your pussy flutters around his fingers wildly. You're so, so close, and you want him to see you lose control. "Just like that, baby. Fuck, you make me feel so good." He adores when you praise him, it always casts his self-doubt about his performance aside.

"I'm happy to please you, sweetheart. Be a good girl and make a mess on my fingers." He coos at you, watching every micro-expression that swipes across your face. He moves his digits even faster inside you, using his thumb to rub vicious circles on your clit.

"Eddie!" You scream as another explosion of bliss engulfs you. Your legs shake violently, arousal pooling into Eddie's hand. Your insides are on fire, your abdomen sore from your muscles flexing involuntarily with every orgasm. He stills his fingers, letting your high fade away before slowly pulling them out. He brings them to his lips, hungrily sucking your juices from them. He moans at the taste, sucking down every last drop of you as his eyes flutter closed.

"Mmm, so fuckin' good, baby." Eddie observes you again, admiring how spent you look. You're panting, your face staring at the ceiling. Your hair clings to your sweat-soaked face, and your whole body glows with lust. Tremors rock through you randomly, making you whimper as they shock your clit. Eddie’s really done a number on you. You're sure if he dared to simply blow air against your pussy, you'd lose it all over again. He crawls over to you on the bed, laying next to you carefully. He turns your face to look at him, smiling lovingly at you. "Did you enjoy yourself, angel?" He asks.

"Y-yes, Eds." You stutter your words, shivering slightly as your sweat turns cold. He pulls you close, quickly warming you back up in his gentle arms. He kisses you tenderly, and you can't help melting into putty. "Do you want your present now, baby?" You ask quietly, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Sure, sweetheart. Stay here though, I'll grab it." He lets you go, stepping off the bed to grab the small box you put on his dresser as he ambushed you earlier. He gets back into bed, bringing you back into his embrace. You quickly snuggle him again, eager for his body heat to radiate into you. Eddie opens the box, finding a beautiful ring inside. He removes it from the box, inspecting it closely. It's chunky and silver like the ones he has already, but in the middle is a large, blood-red stone in the shape of a heart. The band itself is an intricate weaved pattern, and there's an engraving on the underside of the stone. It reads: 'For Eddie, My Heroic Knight' in an elegant script. He's speechless, he never expected you to get him something so nice.

"Do you like it, darling?" You ask, playfully stroking his chest as you watch his awestruck face. It's amusing that you seem to have caught him off guard, which is not an easy feat. After a moment of admiring the ring, Eddie slips it on one of the free fingers on his right hand.

"I love it, angel. It's the best gift anyone's ever given me." His eyes meet yours, his hand cupping your cheek. Your lips touch again, but this time you climb on top of him as you kiss. You straddle him, his hands gripping your ass roughly. Your mouth leaves Eddie's, migrating to his jaw and neck. He moans as you suck dark hickeys onto his flesh, marking him as much as you can. Your cunt rubs against Eddie's hard cock over his jeans, and you're eager to get him out of his clothes. You sit up, tugging his shirt up his chest. He helps you out, quickly discarding it to the floor.

"You're so handsome, baby." You tell him as you stare at his beautiful chest. You lean down to kiss his tattoos, nipping his skin playfully. Eddie groans, fixated on every touch you give him. Your mouth meets every inch of him you can reach, slowly traveling down to the small trail of hair above his jeans. You lift your head, smirking at him as you unbuckle his belt. He grins back, resting his head on his hands to observe your actions. You unzip his fly and yank his pants down his legs, tossing them aside. You glance down at his boxers, a tent formed in the thin fabric. Licking your lips, you shed Eddie of his final layer of clothing, watching his dick stand at attention. You kneel between his legs, leaning down you lick a long stripe up his length.

"Fuck." Eddie sighs, wanting to shove himself down your throat so badly. But he lets you take your time, not breaking eye contact as you do so. You teasingly swirl your tongue around the head, swallowing the precum that's gathered on it. He moans, an almost tortured look on his face. "Baby, please don't tease me." He begs, needy for your hot, wet mouth. You happily sink your lips down onto his cock, letting him hit the back of your throat. More noises spill from Eddie's lips as you work him, deepthroating him expertly. He loves when you give him head, there's nobody else on this earth that does it like you.

"Mmm." You moan on his length, increasing your speed. Sure, you mainly wanted to send vibrations through Eddie to drive him mad, but you also really enjoy sucking him off. Watching him whine and moan and praise you, it gets you unbelievably hot and bothered. You massage his balls gently in your hand, feeling them tighten as Eddie's high draws closer.

"Keep going, sweetheart. You're such a good little slut for me. Can you bring your pussy over here while you do that, though?" He asks, insatiable lust tinging his voice. You roll your eyes goofily, of course he wants to eat you out again. You already know it won't take long for him to make you cum, you're still so riled up from before. You continue blowing him, carefully maneuvering yourself to put your cunt in his face. He notices the arousal dripping from you, groaning at the site. "You love having my dick in your mouth, don't you, baby?" He says rhetorically, he already knows the answer.

"Mmhmm." You reply anyway, humming on him again. But it quickly morphs into a moan as Eddie's tongue begins toying around with your clit. He stops for a moment, biting your ass cheek to get your attention. You look back at him best you can, letting his dick slip out of your mouth. "Yes, my love?" You ask, quite used to this form of communication with him.

"Slow down on me a little, angel. I want you to focus on enjoying yourself." He strokes your thighs sensually, his tongue playing at the edge of his mouth mischievously. Eddie's always been so giving in bed, even when he's obviously desperate to have some pleasure of his own. You nod at him as you bite your lip, before turning away to take him back in your mouth. You slowly bob up and down, your tongue swirling around his length languidly. "That's it, keep that pace, Y/N." He groans again, trying to hold back his impulse to buck his hips into you. Eddie savors the feeling for a second, calming himself. You can feel his breath stuttering as it fans over your pussy, mentally smirking at just how close he is.

You want his mouth back on you, though he seems to be a little distracted. You lean your behind backwards to him, tempting his tongue to see just how sweet you taste. He chuckles at your wanting, before giving you what you need. Eddie sucks your clit back into his mouth, focusing his moans onto your core. The vibrations are nearly enough to make you lose it, you practically scream on his cock. You want to go faster, make him cum down your throat right now. But he asked you to go slowly, and you'll do anything to make him happy. It takes everything in you to maintain your pace, due to Eddie's moves making your head spin. You're sweating all over again, and it feels like your brain is melting.

Eddie relentlessly licks and sucks on your pussy, drinking up any arousal that drips from it. There's a nonstop cycle of moaning from the two of you, sending tremors through your flesh where you need it the most. You instinctively push yourself closer to his face, and he takes this as his cue to shove his tongue inside your needy hole. Your fifth orgasm takes you over, your walls clenching his tongue. Juices run out of you, spilling down Eddie's chin and onto his chest. He holds you steady as your legs threaten to give out, they tremble violently as pure bliss cascades through you. Your release brings Eddie to the end as well, his cum shooting in thick ropes down your throat. You swallow every last bit, your head falling onto his hip once he's finished.

But Eddie doesn't stop using his mouth on you, building you up yet again like his life depends on it. "Fuck, Eddie. You're gonna make me cum again." You cry out, tears stinging your eyes. Your high doesn't end, only dulls as he tries to give you another. His hands are hooked around your hips, holding you firmly in place. He's like a goddamn machine, whose only purpose is to get you off. "Oh, god!" You scream, your nails digging into Eddie's thighs as you cum on his face, even harder than all the previous times tonight. He's getting absolutely soaked by you, but he still doesn't want to stop. You hear your arousal leaking onto him, almost worried he's going to drown. But he keeps going, not letting you have a second to breathe.

You're panting wildly, constant tears staining your cheeks as his fucks you with his mouth. He keeps moaning against you, trying to make your head blow into smithereens. You've almost drawn blood as you continue to cling to him, making ungodly sounds as you're on the precipice of yet another fucking orgasm. His lips leave you for just a second. "Come on, angel. Just one more for me, be a good girl." He's breathing so hard, it's like he ran a marathon. Though when you think about it, he kind of has in a way. He adds his fingers to the mix, hammering them into you while licking your clit again.

"Eddie!" You scream, loud enough that you suspect the whole trailer park can hear you. Yet again, Eddie has managed to make you cum harder than you ever have before. It's like you're splitting in half, blinding white heat engulfing you in thick flames. An obscene amount of juices gush from you, more than you thought humanly possible. It all splashes onto Eddie, soaking his face, his hair, his chest, and the bed beneath you. You collapse, laying over Eddie's body. All you can see is stars, and your legs won't stop convulsing. The oxygen has been stolen from your lungs, you've forgotten how to breathe. Once it comes back to you, your chest heaves harshly as you gulp in air. You sob uncontrollably, unable to move.

"Y/N?" Eddie asks, watching you lay helplessly on top of him. He notices you crying, quickly slipping out from under you to rush to your side. He helps you sit up, taking a spot next to you. He's shiny with sweat and your cum, holding your head close to his chest. "Shhh, it's okay, angel. Just relax and breathe, okay?" He coos at you, stroking your damp hair comfortingly. Eddie keeps holding you, trying to calm you down. You focus on your breathing, eventually getting it mostly back to normal. You sit fully upright, gazing into his eyes. He looks so worried, but he shouldn't be. "Was it too much, baby?" He asks, cursing himself for how overzealous he was with you.

"No, Eddie. I promise it was amazing, I've never cum so hard before. God, I love you." You pull his slippery face to yours, kissing him deeply to show how much you mean what you're saying. "It wasn't too much for you, was it? I was worried you were gonna drown." You ask as you pull away, but he just smiles.

"I love you too, baby. And you were absolutely perfect, Y/N. So fuckin' sexy, though I imagine we'll both need some water and a shower." He chuckles, glancing at the head of the bed. "Probably some clean sheets too." And you both laugh heartily together. "Let's get cleaned up, darling. Then we can cuddle in bed and I'll read to you." Eddie stands, taking your hand to lead you to the bathroom.

Once you're nice and clean again, and the bed has been tidied up, the two of you get under the covers. Eddie pulls out a Stephen King novel, opening it to the dog-eared page he left off on. You lay your head on his chest, eagerly waiting to hear what happens next in the story. "Happy anniversary, Eds." You say just before he begins to read, craning your neck to give him another kiss.

"Happy anniversary, princess." He meets you in the middle, his heart skipping a beat as your plush lips touch his. "Now, be quiet so we can see what happens with this evil clown." He chides you jokingly, making you giggle. One of his arms wraps around you, while the other holds the paperback open to find his place. You hum lowly as his fingers stroke your back, barely brushing against your skin. He starts to read, his words and warmth putting you in a very content state. "Henry Bowers had gotten too big too fast to be either quick or agile under ordinary circumstances..." He goes on, reading calmly to you in a velvety voice until you fall asleep.

The end.

#hippiegoth97 #smut #fanfiction #eddie munson #stranger things #1980s #hawkins #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut

200 notes · View notes