#i would like to “secure” my position there....sir?!

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price and Hazel Court

The Masque of the Red Death (1964) dir. Roger Corman

[reiderwriter]

Show You What Devotion Is ❤️‍🔥

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: SMUT, fluff, MINORS DNI 18+

Word count:..... 12k...

Summary: After a lustful encounter on the jet, you and Spencer decide to try out a friends-with-benefits relationship. What you didn't expect was for his sex drive to be so high, and your need for him to lead you to his bed every night of the week.

Warnings: So many 💀, oral (M and F receiving), public sex multiple times, multiple creampies, protection never mentioned, fingering, car sex, alcohol consumption, pet names, degradation, sir kink I think at some point, choking, mentions of spit and other bodily fluids, I'm sure there are more, too.

A/N: Well. Here it is. Big thank you to Jungkook for releasing the song that gave me this fic idea that I was fully convinced was just going to be a nice little song about the number seven. Here's my masterlist, and my requests and asks are open if you want to shout at me for writing 12,000 words of filth! Settle down somewhere comfy for this one 💀 Song inspo:

Monday

The jet was calm and quiet with just the two of you on it as you stretched yourself out over the seats, desperate to find a comfortable position to curl up in and find some sleep. You had been out the entire weekend on a death-row interview, and after three days of dealing with high security prison inmates and their guards, you were feeling a bit restless. You hated the feeling of being cooped up in there, even if you knew you’d be getting out eventually.

You were just thankful that they’d sent you in the jet, because you sure as hell couldn’t imagine driving back right now. And as your only company was Reid, who wasn’t a fan of driving himself, especially over such long distances, it would have been a crappy end to an even crappier weekend. You looked up at the man now, and realised he was also trying his best to fall asleep, but he had a tense look on his face, and he was shifting in his seat, unable to get comfortable.

“Can’t sleep either?” you asked him, finally accepting that you probably weren’t going to get any relief any time soon. His eyes shot open, and he looked at you, finally registering that it was you that had spoken to him and not some figment of his imagination.

“Something like that, yeah,” he said, and looked away, letting the silence fall over you again.

“Do you want to maybe play cards or something?” you asked hopefully, desperate to find something to do for the last hour of your flight. From everything you’d learned about the man opposite you in your six months as a member of the BAU, you knew it probably wasn’t a good idea challenging him. But between being absolutely destroyed at cards and being caught in the discomfort of exhaustion with no ability to sleep, you’d choose the card games any day.

Besides, you could do with learning a little bit more about your coworker anyway. Despite earning your place on the team, and befriending most of the others pretty easily, Reid had always seemed a bit standoffish to you. He was always polite, of course, but the others had warned you that he didn’t take well to change, and your addition to the team was a pretty notable change in your team dynamic.

You were now the youngest member of the team, and you’d been trained in press liaising as a part of your training at the academy, so you took on a different role from the others to allow JJ to get out into the field more now that she was officially an agent. It wasn’t that you thought he disliked you, it was just that he needed to get used to you. Or at least that was what you were telling yourself.

It was why you were on the jet in the first palace, having asked Hotch for the opportunity to shadow Reid while he was working on the interview. He’d given you a look when you lied that it was to gain more experience, but he didn’t have anything against you trying to get Reid to warm up to you a little bit more, so he didn’t complain, and let the two of you go. But you hadn’t realised just how busy you would be with the work, and you hadn’t exactly become the best of friends either.

“You don’t want to play cards with me, Y/N,” he replied coolly, not even looking at you.

“Emily said you usually try to swindle people when you first play cards with them, why aren’t you trying that with me?” you asked, growing a little frustrated that your attempts were being blocked. It’d been the same when you’d invited him out for a drink the night before, and when you’d asked if he wanted to share a takeout in your hotel room the night before that. Polite rejections and the feeling of incompetence that left you wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“You’re too innocent for me to swindle, Y/N. It’d be too easy.”

“That’s pretty arrogant, don’t you think?” As a last ditch attempt to get him to bite, you thought insulting him couldn’t possibly hurt.

“Shit, okay, one game, the cards are in the cupboard over there.” He acquiesced and nodded behind him to the small kitchenette at the end of the jet.

“Why do I have to grab them, you’re closer?” you pouted a little bit, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away again.

“You’re the one who wanted to play,” he grumbled. Rolling your eyes you threw off the blanket you’d wrapped around yourself and stumbled over to grab the cards.

On your way back however, the plane lurched to the side and you stumbled, dropping the cards everywhere and falling straight into the lap of Doctor Spencer Reid. He tried to catch you in his arms, but you’re position made it difficult for him to help you further. Having fallen face first, your torso was now pressed into the seat next to him, the rest of your body bent over his knee as if he were getting ready to spank you any minute.

One of his hands was pinned under your body weight, and the other that had come out to steady you was gripping dangerously close to your chest, not exactly helping with the mental images you were already fighting.

“Shit, I’m sorry I think we hit some turbulence,” you winced and tried to standup, and he groaned at the loss of contact as you moved.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he let out the curse as you stood up, but you weren’t upright for long before your legs gave out underneath you, another lurch from the plane depositing you directly into his lap, your legs straddling either side of his and your chest pressed up against his. This closer position allowed you to feel more of him pressed against you, and your eyes widened in realisation.

“Fuck, Spencer are you hard right now?” You groaned from on top of him, stilled by the realisaton. He scowled at you, again, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Sorry, it’s just been a long weekend, and I couldn’t…” he let out a frustrated sigh and you waited for him to continue, suddenly not so eager to get out of the embarrassing position.

“Have you been hard this entire time? Shit, that’s why you didn’t want to grab the playing cards, didn’t want me to see you like that, right?” you could hear the grin in your voice, and you knew you were being risky but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Shut up, Y/L/N, I really don’t need this right now,” he groaned out again, but made no move to push you off.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I know what you need right now.”

“Don’t fucking tease, Y/N, I’m serious. Let’s just pretend that this never happened, okay?” His mouth was saying one thing, but you were pretty sure from the hands that were gripping your hips now that he wasn’t exactly being the most honest with himself in that moment.

“What if I…. helped you out?” you whispered it out almost silently, and Reid’s eyes snapped open to look at you.

“Don’t joke with me right now, Y/N, it isn’t funny and it isn’t cute.”

“I’m not joking.” Your eyes locked and you didn’t say anything else, content to watch him wage a war in his own mind, curious about which side would win.

“Get on your knees,” he said eventually, and you did, climbing out of his lap and kneeling next to his seat, your heart-beating out of your chest now. “Good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs with those words, and you let out a small whimper as he popped the button on his pants. He pulled out his dick and you stared at it in wonder. You could see the precum shining on his tip as he gave it a few preliminary pumps, his mouth open as he finally found some relief.

You slid your hands up his legs and rested them on his thighs, watching his face and ready to pounce on him the moment he gave you the word.

“Look at you, desperate little whore. You want to suck me off that bad, baby?” he crooned at you, and you found yourself unable to answer.

“Bet you’ve been trying to do this all weekend. Trying to get me back to that hotel room of yours, trying to get me to drink with you, when what you really wanted was for me to stuff my cock down your throat, right?”

It was taking all of your willpower to not just reach your tongue out and lick your way up his shaft, now, your body practically begging for you to touch him.

“Well, go ahead princess. Go ahead and show me what a needy little whore you are.” You waited for no further instruction, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and your tongue around the tip.

You played with it for a few seconds, giving him a few strokes while you waited to see his reactions. He grabbed a fist of your hair, making sure to push it away from your face so he could see exactly what you were doing at all times. With that, you started pushing your head down on more and more of him, seeing how far you could manage to get before hitting the back of your throat.

When you hit your max, you pulled off of him and did it again, starting to pick up pace as you worked your hands over the few inches that couldnt fit.

“Fuck that’s it, princess, just like that.” He moaned, not taking his eyes off you for even a second.

You bobbed your head up and down on him now, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each noise he let out.

“Sucking me off right here on the jet, such a little slut, aren’t you?” he said down at you and you couldn’t help the moan you let out around his cock, the vibrations causing him to tighten his grip on your hair and hiss out a curse.

“That’s it keep going, just like that baby,” he whispered, his hand now starting to push you down a little further on his dick each time, his head thrown back in ecstasy. You knew he was getting close, and you were desperate to feel his cum down your throat.

“Fuck, yes, just like that baby, just like that keep going.” The muscles in his legs were tense under your hand as you pushed your head down right to the base of his cock, stretching yourself past your limits and breathing him in deeply. After that, it was only a few more seconds until you could feel the hot spurts of cum hit the back of your throat.

You looked up at him through his orgasm, and you swore it was the best view you’d seen before in your life. His mouth was open in a moan, and the hand that wasn’t controlling your movements was raked through his own tousled locks.

Eventually, he pulled you off of him, and you swallowed the remaining cum still inside your mouth, going as far as to catch the few drops spilling out with your fingertips and delicately lick it off, knowing he was back to watching your every move.

He pulled you up to a standing position, his eyes still locked on yours, and you could see he was getting ready to give you another instruction, to use you again to find his own pleasure. Before he had the chance though, an announcement on the PA system had him jumping as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, sorry about that earlier turbulence folks. We’re about ten minutes out of Quantico, so we’re about to descend. You know the drill, seatbelts, please.” The pilot was off the line as quickly as he came on it, and you were left in silence once more.

Fumbling with his pants, Reid put himself together again before guiding you into your seat and taking up his place again in the seat opposite.

“I didn’t mean for it to end like this, shit we don’t have time for me to return the favor…” he seemed apologetic about that and you were finally snapped out of your daze.

“Reid, you really don’t have to do that… I just helped you out a little, is all.”

“No, I’m going to pay you back for this. I swear.” And there it was again, the pounding of your heart as he looked at you like that. You unintentionally clenched around nothing, your frustration almost doubling knowing there could’ve been more if you’d had more time.

“Feel free to say no, of course, but how do you feel about making this a regular thing?” you asked, your voice low, trying not to reveal how desperate you were to be under him right now, certain it would put him off.

“Like a… friends with benefits, thing?” He asked, his head perking up in curiosity.

“Yeah. If you want.” You gulped down. “Obviously, you can say no. We’re coworkers, so it could become weird, but it could also be really convenient to have someone on cases to help you out if you’re ever, you know…”

“Y/N, you’re rambling,” he smiled at you.

“I know, I really want you to say yes,” you admitted then immediately cursed your lack of filter.

“Yes.” He said. And that was that.

Tuesday

To say that stepping off of the jet had bought you back down to reality would be an understatement. After parting from Spencer with a terse wave and a strained smile, you’d spent your entire commute home thinking you’d just fucked up in the most major way possible.

As far as you could tell, the man didn’t even like being in your company and was just okay with you being his coworker, and then you’d suggested you give him a blow job on government property? Yeah, you were insane. That was the only possible explanation.

Needless to say, you got no sleep that night. You could only imagine how shitty you looked dragging yourself into the bullpen the next morning, coffee in hand and twitching like a rabbit that knew it was being followed by a wolf.

“God, Y/N, you look like you’ve been through hell and back. I thought you and Reid only went for an inmate interview?” Emily questioned you as soon as you stepped through the door.

“Yeah, yeah, it was okay,” you squeaked out, not quite adept at hiding your emotions just yet. “I just didn’t get much sleep is all. Shitty hotel beds, you know?” You smiled at her, and she nodded from experience.

“Oh, tell me about it, this one time I was sharing a room with JJ and the metal springs in the mattress we’re just sticking out the top. It’s a miracle these places make any money.”

“Well, they always have FBI Agents blasting through desperate for a room, I guess,” you joked with her half-heartedly, still feeling the tension in the room.

“What are you guys talking about?” He creeps up behind you to join the conversation, but you know it’s him. You turn around and finally get a look at him. Reid stood there, looking relaxed, with a small smirk on his face. His hands in his pants pockets, leaned back against Emily’s desk next to his, effectively cutting off your route to your own desk behind him.

“Y/N was telling me about the crappy motel you guys got lumped in this weekend. Bummer right?”

“I don’t know, I slept just fine. You do look a little tense, Y/N,” he looked at you again, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot at him. He was messing with you. The fucker was actually messing with you.

“I must’ve just pulled the short straw.” You send him a strained smile, trying to end the conversation there.

“You should’ve said something about it on the jet, I would’ve let you rest instead.” You freeze then. Surely he wasn’t going to reveal to the entire office, or at least to Emily, what the two of you did on the jet.

“You didn’t have to play cards with me, you know. I know how exhausting it can be to keep up with me. I have pretty good stamina.” This time you didn’t hold back and you did shoot daggers at him, which only achieved bringing him one step closer to laughter.

“Ooh, rookie mistake. Don’t play with Reid, Y/N, he’ll take you for all you’re worth.” Emily shot back before making her way to the kitchen area, content with the advice she had given.

“Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” You mumbled, eyes still locked with Reid’s as you made to push past him. His hand brushed yours as you did, and you almost jumped at the contact. God, why was he doing this to you. Up until yesterday, he hadn’t ever bothered to even look in your direction, and now he was making you dizzy at work and you didn’t know how to deal with it.

The rest of the day you did your best to ignore him, and you really had to try. Everytime you went to grab yourself another drink, he’d trail along behind you, leaving you to make a U-turn to ask Morgan or Prentiss questions instead. If you went to get some files, he’d do the same, and you found yourself grabbing the wrong files in your haste to avoid talking to him again.

It was a ridiculous game of cat and mouse, and you knew that eventually he would catch up to you, and then you would have to come face to face with the man who had consumed your thoughts for the last 24 hours. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if it was dread you were feeling or anticipation.

In the end, he resorted to a more direct method that you couldn’t ignore.

“Hey, Y/N, I need to discuss some of the files from this weekends interview, do you have five minutes?” he said it loud enough for those around you to hear, so there was no escape. You took a deep breath and acquiesced,

“Great, let’s go grab the files and we can get started.” From all your self-defence training, you knew you should never let your assailant get you to a secondary location, but with him, you knew there was no escape. You let him guide you to the storage room, not even bothering to make small talk on the way down.

The door wasn’t even closed before he turned on you and started talking.

“If yesterday was bad for you, then we don’t have to ever do it again, but if you keep ignoring me like that, they’re going to realise that something is wrong.”

“Take a second to think about why I’m ignoring you, Reid. You’ve practically been on top of me all day, I can’t think when you’re around and I have work to do,” you whisper shout at him, even though theres no one in the file room he’s pulled you into.

“I wasn’t on top of you, I’d have enjoyed it very much had I been on top of you. Instead, I’ve been trailing behind you because you won’t talk to me.” He replied, shoulders lifting to his ears in his defense.

“Do you not want to do this anymore?” he asked you and you took in a sharp inhale of breath. He was giving you an out. You logically knew that you should take it, push down whatever it was you were feeling and pretend like yesterday had never happened. But all thoughts of doing just that left your head as he moved one step closer to you.

“Spencer…” you whispered into the room, as he moved closer still, eventually coming to cage you in against the wall.

“Do you really not want me to repay you?” he moved his hands down your body, a ghost of a touch really, not at all enough for what you wanted and getting nowhere near where you needed.

“Spencer, we shouldn’t be doing this at work. What if someone comes down here?”

“Doing what? I’m just asking you a question.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you again him, and you could feel the length of him against your stomach. “And besides, that didn’t matter to you yesterday.”

“Fuck, Spencer…” you groaned out, screwing your eyes shut. He trailed his hands further still and they finally found your ass over your skirt.

“I felt just as unsure about this earlier, you know. Thought it was going to create a weird tension in the office. Then you walked in this morning, wearing this skirt and suddenly I didn’t care. Just needed to have you.” He pulls your leg up, pressing his in between your thighs before you can think of closing your legs in modesty.

“I just want to feel you, will you let me do that?” He whispers against your skin and you whimper as his lips ghost over you.

“Yes, yes Spencer, please…” your brain shuts off and you give in, and suddenly he has your skirt around your waist and you tights and panties aorund your ankles in what seems like only a flash of a second.

“So fucking perfect and obedient for me, aren’t you, pet?” You whimper as he trails a finger along your sensitive clit, and you twitch as he begins his movements, rubbing slow circles into you.

“Fuck, look at you, clenching around nothing. I was just going to come in here and make you cum on my fingers but you’re begging to be filled, aren’t you, Princess?” He murmurs finally pushing on finger into you as he continues to to rub your clit with his thumb. You bury your head into his shoulder and try your best to muffle the disgusting moans dripping from your mouth as you plead with your coworker.

“What was that, pet? You’re going to have to say it a bit louder, I can’t hear you?” He picks up his pace and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your face.

“Fuck me. Please, Reid.” Not removing his hand from between your legs, he unbuttons his pants and you see his cock again for the second time in two days. You can’t believe you managed to get the entire thing down your throat yesterday. You stare at him with lust-clouded eyes, begging him silently.

“I haven’t got a condom, princess. Are you on the pill?” He asks, giving himself a few terse strokes, too far from your reach to help out. You nod vigorously, unable to form actual words now and not trusting yourself to keep quiet as your anticipation builds.

“Perfect baby, now relax and I’ll take care of you, okay?” He gently pulled his hand away from your core, quickly replacing it with his pulsating cock, pushing in slowly and deep.

“So tight for me, baby, you feel amazing.” He pauses for a second to allow you to adjust to his size, but all too soon he’s hammering into you, not caring to control his speed or his strength, just using you like he’s a man delirious with lust and you love it.

You clutch his shirt, and with each and every thrust you scream a little bit, unable to hold yourself back from the pleasure thats ripping through you. You’re making so much noise that after a few minutes, he brings a hand to your mouth, closing it over you and effectively cutting off any noises you make from escaping.

“You need to be quiet, honey, as much as I want to hear you, we don’t need anyone to come around here asking questions.” But you’re too far gone to care, your judgement too clouded, your head and body too full of him and what he’s doing to you to care at all who knows about it. You know he’s right, but you just keep moaning into his hand until finally, your body can’t take the stimulation anymore and you feel yourself tip over the edge, tightening around him as you ride out your high.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He says and you use what feels like the last of your strength to nod as you feel him shoot his load inside of you.

You don’t know how long the two of you stay joined there, but the post-sex clarity hits you like a tonne of bricks again as he pulls out and you genuinely start questioning your sanity as he cleans you up and pulls your panties back up into the right position.

“Shit Spencer, we can’t do that again,” you say. “What if someone had caught us?”

“Don’t say that as if you weren’t just turned on by the very thought of that happening,” he shot back. “But yes, we’re going to need some rules if we’re going to keep this up.” You nod at him, and the two of you make for the exit of the room, aware that you’d already been away for suspiciously long.

Luckily, your teammates are all too busy to notice that neither of you return with the files you went to look for.

Wednesday

The knock at your door was sharp and insistent, but you were tired so it took you a few minutes to cross your apartment to reach the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting to greet you there at 9pm on a wednesday evening, but it sure as hell wasn’t Spencer Reid, looking a little damp from the rain.

“I’m glad you’re home. I thought you would be considering you told Penelope you had no plans when you left earlier, but there was always the possibility that you wouldn’t be and then I would be stuck out here in the rain again and I wouldn’t get to see you and I really needed to see you.” He got the jumble of words out as quickly as he could, not even leaving you enough time to say hello before he was rambling.

“Spencer, slow down. What are you doing here?” You asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Truthfully, you’d spent the last half an hour doing your best not to fall asleep on your couch as you tried to get some reading in, so you weren't exactly the best prepared for guests. You’d rid yourself of your work clothes as soon as you reached your house, the discarded clothes still laying in a pile in your bedroom, and you’d changed into an oversized t-shirt you’d bought a few years ago that was becoming a bit threadbare with constant use.

“I thought we could talk.” He said and offered no further explanation. It was cold and you wrapped your arms around yourself, but the door was letting in the cold breeze that accompanied the rain so you moved aside and gestured for him to make himself at home.

He took stock of your apartment as he walked in and you felt so exposed as he started taking everything in. He was a profiler, a really good one at that, and he was looking now at your bookshelves, the pictures around your apartment, the little trinkets you’d collected over the years. You should have been squirming under the surveillance of it all, but you almost wanted to show him around, talk him through it all and show you every part of you that he hadn’t seen yet. God, you must’ve been crazy.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” you asked, returning to your seat on your couch and gesturing for Reid to sit down, too. He took up a chair on the opposite side of the room, sitting only on the edge of the seat, body tense and shoulders set in a tight line.

“Us. I thought it’d be best if we set some… ground rules you know. After yesterday and the jet…” you sat up then, too and tried not to avoid looking at the mirror you knew was on your shelf, knowing that all you’d see was the crimson staining your face and wondering what he would learn from that.

“Yeah… Yeah of course, we should talk about that. That sounds… smart, I think.”

“I did some research, and apparently we should start with setting boundaries. Things we won’t do, things that would make this easier for us.”

“Right, what kind of… boundaries were you thinking?” Your heart was beating out of your chest waiting for him to continue. The sex between you was so easy that you forgot that neither of you was the best at communicating with the other, that your brain seemed to switch off in his presence and refused to turn itself back on until you’d ended up underneath him.

“There are certain things I won’t do in the bedroom. I don’t like being choked and I don’t…” he trailed off, his face going bright red, “I don’t like not being in control.” He finally finished, looking very shy for a man who just admitted that he took an exclusively dominant role in the bedroom.

“That’s fine with me. Just for the sake of transparency, I’m okay with that. Choking that is. And not being dominant.” You tripped over your words, trying to convey your meaning.

“Great, that’s totally great.” You sat there in silence for a few seconds before he spoke again. “Is there anything you won’t do?”

“Oh right,” you thought about it for a few seconds and then gave him your reply. “As exciting as that was yesterday, I think we shouldn’t be doing that in the office again. I’m not… against public sex, but I’d prefer not to get arrested for public indecency by one of our colleagues.”

He nodded vigorously and looked like he was about to say something else, but you continued.

“Other than that, I’m pretty open. No threesomes though,” You blushed, trying to find the right words to use. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t really want to share you.”

“That’s a good point. We should be exclusive for however long we do this for. The increased risk of attaining a sexually transmitted disease when actively engaging with two or more sexual partners is around 11%, so it’d be safer for us both to just use each other.”

The way he said it was so clinical that you almost flinched, but he didn’t notice your reaction and kept going.

“Is that everything? No other objections?” You thought on his question for a few minutes, and then shook your head.

“Nothing I can think of, but maybe we should keep checking in? Just in case, you know.”

“Yeah, communication is really important in relationships.” He paused for a second, as if realising what he said. “Not that this is a relationship, in the traditional sense, but every human connection can be described as a relationship, so I guess this is a relationship as well. You know what I mean.” You laughed a little at him then, his over-explaination relaxing you a bit, glad you weren’t the only one who was finding this situation unavoidably awkward.

“Spencer, calm down, I understand. Is that all you wanted to discuss?” You look at him with a smile, crossing and uncrossing your legs on the couch, finally falling back into a comfortable position. His eyes trailed down to your legs then, finally taking in your appearance. He raked his eyes up your bare legs, your t-shirt barely hitting the tops of your thighs, his gaze lingering there for a few seconds before he forced himself to meet your eyes again.

“I never did get to pay you back for your help, you know?” He licked his lips, and you felt your pussy clench in anticipation. If this was how you reacted to a simple question, you were well and truly fucked if you thought you’d ever be able to function correctly with him around.

“I said you didn’t have to, remember?” You tried to keep your voice even and low, but your body was alert in anticipation now

“But I want to. Will you let me?” He asked, finally moving himself off of the chair and walking over to you. He knelt at your feet and ran his hands up your still crossed legs, grabbing them and gently coaxing them open.

“Please, princess, let me show you my appreciation.” he begged you and you nodded, giving in so easily to his pleas.

“Use your words.” He said, still letting you know who was in control of this situation, even if he was below you right now.

“Yes, Spencer, yes, you can do it.” His hands were trailing up the inside of your leg now, sending goosebumps up your arms, and growing the pit of desire that was burning for him.

“Do what? You need to tell me exactly what you want, right princess? Isn’t that what we discussed?” He placed a chaste kiss to your knee now and your body was begging you to just twine your hands in his hair and press him between your legs.

“Spencer, please use your tongue and make me cum,” you begged him, and his hands instantly moved to pull your panties down. Once he’d rid you of the garments, he hooked his arms under your thighs and pulled you into him, spreading your legs apart and finally looking at you.

“This wet for me already, princess?” he smiled up at you, a devastatingly sweet smile from his devilish position. You whimpered slightly and he finally, finally lowered his head, extending his tongue and taking his first swipe at your core.

You grabbed at his hair then, but he pulled away, grabbed your hands and pinned them at either side at you with his own and then went down again, beginning to lick and suck at your centre once more.

When he reached your centre, it was all you could do not to buck up into his face, involuntarily fighting his grip so you could get closer still to his tongue, feel even more friction as he drew small circles, before closing his entire mouth around it and giving you all the attention you had been craving since your interruption two days ago.

You knew from your experience in the file room that Spencer was somewhat naturally gifted in the bedroom, but you put that mostly down to the fact that he was a good size and had pretty notable stamina. But now you realised he was probably the best you were ever going to get. Most men you’d been with hadn’t even wanted to entertain the idea of giving you head, let alone begged you for the opportunity and then drinking you in like you were the last drop of water in the desert and he was a man parched with thirst.

You writhed and moaned into him, feeling your orgasm gain on you as you felt his pace pick up. Looking down at him and catching his eye was the last thing you could do before your eyes rolled back in pleasure, the smile in his eyes so bright, enjoying having you on his tongue so much that you couldn’t handle it anymore.

He didn’t pull off of you immediately, letting you ride his face through your orgasm, your thighs squeazing him slightly before he let go of his grip on your hands and pulled himself away from you. You gasped for breath on the sofa, still softly twitching in pleasure, as he lifted himself off the ground.

“You did so good, princess,” he said patting your head, and you became instantly aware of the painful erection he was sporting through his pants, face to face with it now he was standing up. You opened your mouth, readying yourself to ask for more of him when you heard a phone ring from the other side of the room.

You didn’t recognise the ringtone, but it seemed like Reid did, as he dropped a curse and quickly moved himself back to the chair he’d previously occupied and picked it up quickly.

“Hotch, what is it?” Spencer murmured into the line, and with that you knew you weren’t getting anything else that night. After a short conversation, Reid hung up, and turned to you again.

“We’ve got a case. You’ll probably get the call in a few minutes. We didn’t discuss this earlier, but it’s best if no one else finds out about this.” He said, gathering all of his things, as you covered yourself again. You made to pull your panties up your legs again, but he got to them first.

“No, these are mine now.” He said, so confidently that you just nodded, slightly dumbfounded, and did your best to not pull him back over you again. You were seriously contemplating it, seeing how quickly you could make him cum when another phone rang, and you recognised it as your own.

He petted your hair again, grabbed the last of his things and stuffed your panties inside of his jacket pocket, and said a final goodnight, leaving you to answer the phone alone in your apartment. You sat there subdued in the moment as you realised you were in love with the man, and couldn’t do a thing about it.

You were in love with him, and he hadn’t even once kissed you.

Thursday

Alaska. The case had taken you all the way to Alaska, and you were suddenly desperate to get back to the rain you’d left behind in Virginia. You were cold and the wetness had seeped into your body from the day traipsing around the dumpsite of your newest unsub and your motel room was cold and you were miserable.

Your motel was small, but still large enough to afford each of you your own room, considering there was no one else passing through town at this time of the year, so you didn’t feel bad about turning your light back on at 2am and grabbing the book off your nightstand, hoping it would help lull you to sleep.

Not even five words into the page, a quiet knock interrupted the unending quiet, faint but recognisable from when he’d knocked on your door only the previous night. Your heart raced as you moved to the door and you opened it for him quickly.

“Hi,” you said as you saw him there, looking just as cold as you felt.

“Hey. My room was cold, and I saw your light on…” he whispered, letting his voice trail off. You opened the door for him and he came in quickly, not waiting to risk anyone seeing the two of you, even if it was the middle of the night.

“Yeah, it’s not just you. I’m one cool draft away from piling all of my luggage over me and hoping it helps me warm up. You’d think they’d have extra blankets or something.”

“Oh, I’m sure they did, I saw Prentiss walking up to her room with a pile earlier,” he laughed and you laughed with him, his smile infectious and the temperature leaving you deliriously sleepy.

“You know, we could probably get warm if we got in together,” he suggested, and before he could explain the science behind it, you jumped at the idea.

“Yes, please, I’m willing to try anything right now.” You dove back under the covers, still wrapped in your fluffy pajamas, lifting up the covers to let him under too. He climbed in after you, and for a second you were wondering if he was just going to lie beside you for a while and then leave when he was warm enough. He quashed those thoughts the second he put his head on the pillow next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, holding you as if you were a teddy bear.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your mouth as his breath tickled the back of your neck, huddling closer into him until your legs were tangled and your chests were flush against each other.

“Stop giggling and get some sleep,” he whispered down at you through a smile, his eyes closed, unaware of the look of adoration you couldn’t wipe from your face.

“You know if we really wanted to huddle for warmth, skin-to-skin contact would be much more effective,” you teased him, and he groaned into you, gripping you that much tighter.

“Do not tempt me, Y/N. It’s 2am and we’re working a case, we need some sleep,” he whispered down at you, but you were enjoying teasing him, so you continued, unrelenting.

“It didn’t take us very long any of the other times, Spencer,” you burrowed your head into his neck so he couldn’t see you as you knew he was about to react to your challenge.

“You’re a brat, you know that right?” he sighed, looking down at the top of your head and waiting for you to meet his eyes, but you just nodded into him, and he rolled his eyes and fell back into a comfortable position, but the insinuation in your words stuck to him. You felt him shift next to you, and started slowly trailing your hand down his chest.

“Unless you really want to be working this case tomorrow on one hour of sleep, I’d suggest you stop this before you can’t anymore,” he growled into your ear.

“I think I’ll take my chances, you say, your hand finally reaching his waistband and snapping it against his skin once, showing him exactly what it was you wanted. He grabbed your hands to stop your movements, but from the way he shifted his weight, you could feel that he’d already taken your words to heart.

“So fucking desperate for it, can’t even leave you alone for twenty-four hours before you’re sticking your hands in my pants, huh, princess?” His voice was a low grumble in your ear, and that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was back.

“Well, I’m tired tonight, so how about you show me just how much you want this?” He rolled you over, still pinning your hands with one of his larger ones, and started rolling your pajamas down your legs, just enough to access your pussy.

“Touch yourself, baby, get yourself ready for me,” he let go of your hands now and even in the dark you knew he would be watching your every movement. Lying on your side, you moved one hand down to your clit, beginning to rub slow circles into yourself, letting little gasps and moans escape from your mouth for his benefit.

After a few minutes of touching yourself, getting yourself ready, you reached behind you to Reid’s crotch, fumbling for a second before finally grabbing his dick through his pajamas. He didn’t make a sound in protest, so you continued, stroking his half hard dick until he was fully erect for you.

You gathered some of your wetness on your fingers and pushed two of them inside your pussy, stretching yourself out, beginning to synchronise your two hands so you’d both feel the pleasure together. Spencer was still frustratingly silent, not even moving further than he needed to to allow you better access. Desperate for his attention, you decide to tease him a little bit.

“Do you like that, sir?” You feel his dick twitch in your hand, and throwing a glance over your shoulder, you can see that his jaw is clenched. You panic for a second, thinking maybe he wasn’t into the pet name you’d just dropped from your lips, but he finally responds.

“You just keep working hard to make me happy, princess, okay?” He says and you grin in triumph.

“Yes, sir.” You respond. Instead of picking up your pace, you decide you’ve gone long enough without him inside you so you release him and pull your fingers out of your pussy, licking your juices off your fingers. You push your ass back into position again, lining his tip up with your core as you reach behind you to grab the base of his dick and finally feel him enter you.

Unlike the first time he’d been in you, you didn’t want this to end fast. You wanted to feel him filling you up forever, hold him inside of you. You started thrusting back in torurously slow movements, letting him get so far out of you that he feared he was going to fall out and then pushing yourself back on so deep there was nowhere else he could go.

Refusing to pick up the pace, you continue your movements for the next few minutes, but you feel him growing restless beside you. He lets out little hisses each time he feels the cold on his skin, and he’s breathing deeply, hands bawled into the sheets so he doesn’t touch you like he promised he wouldn’t.

But this feels too much like giving you control, so he starts talking to you again, trying to tease more movement out of you.

“So content to be filled with my cock, huh, baby? You want to savor it, right?” You whimper at every question, the feeling of him inside you and his gravelly voice driving you insane.

“Such a little whore, using my dick to get off when you should be sleeping.” Your pace increased after that, your body desperate to show him how eager you were to be taking all of him inside you.

“Oh? Thought you wanted to keep it slow tonight, slut, you’re getting sloppier.” You were pushing back fervently now, desperate for release, begging him for more and more until you couldn’t take it. Reaching back, you grabbed one of his hands and placed it over your breast, silently begging him to take control.

“Should I give my little whore what she wants?” You simply moaned in reply, unable to do anything else. But that was all he needed and he started matching your thrusts with his own, forcing your pace to increase until your vision was blurry with need.

You were hanging on by a thread now, his fingers rolling the nipple of the breast in his hand around, pinching it hard every few strokes.

“Spencer, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum, please, please, please…” you had no idea what you were begging him for, but it seemed like he did, unrelenting in his thrusts.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it. You have my permission.” Once again, you came undone in his arms, and he wasn’t far behind. You fell asleep there in his arms, not even bothering to clean yourself off or make him pull out, just the two of you holding each other on a cold night.

When you woke up, he was gone, and even though you knew it was what was best, you still felt a little crack in your heart start to form.

Friday

It had been over a week since Spencer had sneaked into your room in Alaska and he hadn’t touched you since. With the case in full swing, you hadn’t had the time to sneak off together, and the hotel had since fixed their heating system after a few timely complaints from Rossi and Prentiss, so you had no excuses to gravitate to each other either.

You were back from Alaska now though, and stuffed into a booth at your favorite bar with your team for a post-case celebration. The booth was round, and you were stuck in the middle with nowhere to move, flanked on either side by Morgan and JJ, who respectively had Reid and Prentiss on either side of them, Garcia, currently at the bar, rounding out the bunch.

“Okay, one round of shots for my favorite team of Special Supervisory Agents, and the Good Doctor of course - do not try to back out of this, it’s happening.” Garcia returned with six shots of tequila and you winced. You’d never drank tequila and come out unscathed.

“Penelope I love you, but you know what tequila does to me,” you groan, trying to blink back the memories of the last time the poison had passed your lips. You’d been out on a girls night out, and after a few rounds of tequila and not a care in the world, you’d started answering any and every question the girls had put to you like you were under the influence of a truth serum.

“Exactly, sweetie, and it’s because I know that I want you to drink up, you’ve been secretive these last couple of days and I want to get to the bottom of it.”

“What happens when you drink, Y/N?” Reid asked. You could heart the curiosity in his voice, and like everytime you’d felt his attention on you in the last week and a half, your chest thumped painfully, trying to burst from your chest and reach out to him.

“Oh, it was hilarious. She was a venerable chatterbox, and she was so open with her opinions on everything. She was answering every question with the cutest sincerity.” Garcia filled him in on the details and you wanted to melt into the couch.

“We asked her what drink she wanted next and she monologued for ten minutes about some of the different choices on the menu and whether she thought they would taste good.” JJ continued.

“And when we asked more probing questions, she’d start by saying ‘I’m only telling you this because it’s you three and I love you,’” Emily finished for them.

Thankfully, the three of them had noticed that you were quite a bit past it that day, and that they shouldn’t be really asking you anything inappropriate that you’d regret answering. You were especially thankful for it now though, as you could only imagine the things you’d say about Reid if your tongue loosened. About how he felt when he was inside you, about how he’d given you the best orgasm of your life, about how you were in love with him and afraid that if you told him you’d never have him in your arms again.

“One shot won’t hurt, Y/N. You had like five last time before you started spouting wisdom, what’s the worst that one could do?” You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t say no to Penelope Garcia, and thinking that maybe you didn’t even want to.

“Okay, one shot, and no more.” You grabbed the salt and the lime, got ready for your shot as the others did the same, and then with one quick tip up, it was burning a trail down your throat.

“Great, now that that’s finished, I’m going to get us some real drinks, any requests?” After a few shouts for beers and cocktails, Prentiss left the table and went to order the next round.

“How about a game?” Garcia suggested innocently enough, “maybe two truths, one lie? Truth or dare?” You rolled your eyes at her probing, knowing that she only had good intentions. She’d checked in on you a few times during your time in Alaska as well, after you started moping about the loss of Reid in your bed. It had only been the fact that he’d made you promise to keep your relationship to yourselves that had stopped you from spilling everything to Garcia the morning you woke up and realised he was gone.

“Baby girl, you’re scaring the kid,” Morgan laughed from his place at your side, and you breathed a sigh of relief, until he opened his mouth again. “That being said, is there something you need to get off your chest, Y/N? You’ve been acting all sad recently.”

“I’m fine! Totally fine, just not getting enough sleep, I think.”

“Oh, is it nightmares? We’ve all had them, I think it’s part of the job description now.” Emily returned with the drinks and latched on to the end of your conversation.

“Not nightmares, mostly dreams if I’m being honest,” you sighed out, unable to catch yourself as she handed you your drink. You cursed yourself as you looked up to see the grin on her face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, are you telling me that you’ve been running on minimum hours of sleep because you’ve been getting some action?” Whenever Emily full-named you, you felt like a little kid being pulled into a principal's office. You gulped and sent her a panicked look, unable to deny but not wanting to say another word. From the corner of your eye, you tried to catch Reid’s reaction to all of this. He was nursing his drink on the sidelines, not saying anything, but a small twitch in the corner of his mouth filled in the gaps for him.

“Oh, that’s my girl.” Emily whistled at you from the other side of the table, and for the next half hour you did your best to melt into the table and not make eye-contact with Reid.

Eventually, Morgan made his way to the bar to start flirting with some girls, and JJ, Emily and Prentiss made their way to the dancefloor, leaving you and Reid alone at the table. They’d tried to convince you to get up with them, but you’d convinced them to leave you behind, with promises to join them shortly.

“So, you’re a truthful drunk, then?” Reid asked. He’d moved closer to you when Morgan had exited the booth, but not close enough to draw anyone's attention. Now with the girls gone too, he took his chances and pushed up against your side, your thighs touching, and his arm resting on the back of the booth.

“Don’t start, I barely survived that with my life, Reid, now they think I’m seeing someone,” you groaned into your hands.

“You are seeing someone. Granted it’s just me, and its not what they think…” he trailed off, still staring at you with that smile on his lips, but you barely noticed burying your head further into your hands. It was almost infuriating that he didn’t know that he’d never be ‘just’ anything to you.

“Not helping, Reid.” He chuckled and took another swig of his drink. Obviously the alcohol was starting to have some effect on him, because when he returned his glass to his coaster, the hand that was holding it fell directly onto your thigh. With his other arm practically wrapped around your shoulders, and this movement now, you could only imagine that the two of you looked like a couple having an intimate discussion to anyone walking past.

“What are you doing, Spencer?” You panic a bit, worrying that any second a coworker of yours would catch sight of the two of you and realise just who you’d been dreaming about these past few days. But your back was to the booth and it wasn’t in their line of sight at all.

“Oh, it’s Spencer again, is it? Thought you liked calling me sir,” he whispered in your ear and the feeling of his hot breath on your neck was enough to disable the brain cells that remained.

“Spencer!” You hissed under your breath at him, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Can we not do this here?” You asked, exasperated.

“Would you prefer to do this at my apartment, or yours instead? Or your car is outside, if you just want to get straight to it.” You weren’t used to this from him. Sure he was dominant when you were in the middle of the act, but before and after he was almost ten times more awkward than usual. But with a bit of liquid courage, he’d had you trapped in a corner, unable to escape, and not caring who saw you.

“Spencer, they’re going to see us. That was the rule, they can’t see us.” You whispered in a low voice, not wanting to take it any higher, despite the pounding music in the bar.

“And they won’t but you need to answer me baby, my place, your place or your car?” Your heart-race picked up as you saw the serious expression on his face. He needed this. Needed you so badly, that he couldn’t even wait for a natural exit, needing to carry you off to the nearest convenient location and have his way with you. You realised in that moment that you would drop anything just to give him what he needed.

“Car.” You said, letting go of your worries, and just letting him take care of the situation.

“Perfect, princess. Now, you’re going to lean on my arm and act like you have a headache while I go and make our excuses to the others, okay? Do not say a word, and maybe I’ll give you a nice reward, how does that sound?” You nodded vigorously at his instructions, suddenly very excited for whatever he had in store for you.

You stumbled your way to the dancefloor, tracking down Garcia and the others as Spencer informed them of your condition. The three of them tried to ask you questions, but you were sure that Spencer was serious about that reward, so you kept your mouth shut, leaning against Reid innocently and just nodding your head at the appropriate times. Morgan was still chatting at the bar, and Reid gave him a nod on the way out, knowing that he’d soon be filled in as well, and you were suddenly out the door.

“Good job, princess, you did so good for me in there.” He cooed into your ear as he guided you back to your own car. Unlocking the doors, he threw your bag into the front seats and immediately climbed into the back, pulling you along with him by your hand.

He pulled you over him, making you straddle him. You knew he wasn’t going to take his time with you, not here, but that didn’t matter. You needed it just as much as he did. You wondered for a second if his reward was going to finally be him pressing his lips to yours. You’d changed into a short skirt before joining your friends at a bar, that material so tight over your ass and thighs that in your new position, he didn’t even have to move it out of the way to gain access to you, having already ridden up all the way to your stomach.

“So beautiful baby. If you need to stop for whatever reason, you need to tap my shoulder here two times, okay?” You were confused about the introduction of a new safety gesture, but when he wrapped one of his hands around your neck and squeezed just as he starting rubbing your soaking cunt you suddenly realised it was necessary.

The strong grip on your throat was limiting your breath, the lack of oxygen you were getting intensifying every stroke he made. It was only a few minutes before he was pushing a finger into you, and beginning to pump it in and out quickly. You grabbed at the arm attached to your throat, using it for balance as you used your remaining energy to grind down desperately into his hand. He stilled his movements then, letting you use his hand to get off, humping yourself into him like a bitch in heat.

“You said you liked this, but if I’d have known you meant this much, I’d have done this much sooner.” He tightened his grip around your throat a little bit, still doing his best not to hurt you. You were seeing stars now, the car windows were fogged up from your desperate pants, and you were so close to just finishing right there on his hand.

You felt your vision go black as you finally tipped over the edge, tapping his shoulder quickly as you felt your orgasm rip through you. He instantly let go of you and caught you in his arms, wrapping them around you, and instantly doing everything to make sure you were okay.

“What’s wrong, are you okay? Did I squeeze too hard?” There was a panic in his tone, but you let your breathing even out before you replied, content with the feeling of him stroking your hair as your head rested against his chest.

“It’s okay, Spencer, it was just getting a little bit too intense for me, is all…” you let out a small yawn then and nuzzled into him in the backseat, your eyes drooping closed.

“Princess, I’m going to get you home now, okay? No more tonight.” He whispered sweetly into your hair, as you fell asleep in his arms once again. The last thing you felt before you fell under was his lips press a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

Saturday

When you woke up again, you knew you were in his arms, and your heart practically sang at the contact. Your eyes opened and there he was, next to you in your bed, face inches from yours, arms wrapped tightly around you and legs tangled in yours.

You stared at him for a few moments, not wanting to wake him and shatter the peace with awkward exits, not wanting to distance yourself from him for even a second. Your eyes drank all of him in. His messy hair, his long, delicate eyelashes, his lips. You found yourself staring at them for more than a few moments.

What would they feel like pressed into yours? You tried to bury the thought, but you just couldn’t. He was asleep, and you’d not talked about kissing when you’d discussed things you wouldn’t do. It was human nature to be curious, but the need to know him, to experience him and everything he had was consuming you from the inside, and you couldn’t help yourself.

Just as you were about to let your impulses control your movements and press a kiss to his lips, you felt him stir next to you, instantly snapping your eyes shut and laying as still as possible as he roused himself from sleep.

You felt him shift, but you could hear nothing over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Did he know you were awake? Was he going to leave without waking you? Was he going to try to wake you up?

You felt his fingers against your cheek now, tracing a faint line down your face, and then he did something unexpected, and he cupped your face in his hand, and you felt him growing closer and closer until you felt the softest of touches against your lips and realised that he was finally kissing you.

Completely forgetting you were supposed to be asleep, you responded to his kiss, angling your head to better match his and pushing your lips back into his as he made to depart, encouraging him to keep going. He did, with each connection of your lips growing more and more passionate and loving, and like if he was given the chance he’d never stop holding you there in that moment. He only pulled away when he ran out of breath, and you were thankful that he did, as when you opened your eyes, the sight of him robbed you of yours too.

“Good morning, princess.” He whispered, tenderly, letting his forehead come to rest on yours, pressing another chaste kiss to your nose as he did so, and drawing out a giggle from you.

“Good morning, Spencer.” He drops another kiss to your lips then, almost as if now that he’s started he can’t stop.

“Spencer, please, why are you so touchy this morning?” you giggle up at him between kisses.

“I don’t know, you just looked so beautiful, is that a crime?” He smiles at you agan, continuing his kisses down your neck.

“We’ve never kissed before,” you vocalise your fear, and he stopped his movements before you could rush to backtrack.

“We haven’t? Oh god, we haven’t,” his eyes go wide as he looks down at you, his expression mirroring yours. “Shit, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just assumed after everything these past two weeks that we’d kissed at some point.”

“No, no, it’s okay, don’t apologise,” you try to speak, but he keeps going, rushing to get the words out all at once.

“I think I was misremembering kissing you, maybe I thought my dreams were real or something, so if I overstepped a boundary or something about this makes you uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll never do it again.” There was a ringing in your ears as you took in his words.

“You dreamed about kissing me?” you asked in a whisper, almost scared to hear the answer. He struggled to find the right words to say for a moment, but then he nodded.

“I thought you’d have guessed by now from my enthusiasm about all of this,” he replied, still holding you, his hands hot on your waist.

“Wait, Spencer, for how long?”

“Promise you won’t be freaked out?” He groaned, looking like he’d rather bury his face in your pillows than admit what he was about tp.

“I promise, now spill.”

“Since you joined the team. Like since the exact second. I saw you when you walked in and it was like a bomb went off in my head or something, and I had to avoid you for most of that first day so you didn’t notice I was being a creep and just imagining what it would feel like to kiss you.” The grin on your face grew with each of his words, hope sprouting there and taking root.

“God, Spencer, I thought you were uncomfortable around me. I thought you hated me a little because I threw off the group dynamic!” you laughed at your own stupidity now, raking a hand through your hair as his behaviour became more understandable, now.

“No, god no. It does take me a little bit of time to warm up to change, I’ll admit, but by the end of the first week, the change I was imagining what our kids would look like.” You froze with his words, and the roots in your heart grew deeper, twining around themselves and holding you with a fervid strength.

“Kids?” was the only word you managed to gasp out, as Spencer realised what he’d said.

“Fuck… That is, I didn’t mean to… It was just a stupid thought, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s totally fine.”

“Feel what way, Spencer?” you had to hear it from his lips, had to hear the words you so desperately needed.

“Y/N, you have to know by now that I’m obsessed with you. I can’t get enough of you, I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for the last two weeks. I’m completely devoted to you, Y/N. I love you.” The flower in your chest bloomed, and the tears from your eyes spilled to water it.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry,” he kissed the tears away from your cheeks, happy to continue showing you his adoration from earlier, but you pulled him away, needing to look him in the eye when you said it.

“Spencer, I love you, too. Maybe I didn’t realise as soon as you did, but somewhere in my subconscious I was so aware of you, I wanted your approval so badly, wanted you to smile and laugh with me the way you were with the rest of the team. I’ve spent this last week with the words stuck in my throat because I thought you couldn’t possibly feel the same, because Spencer you deserve all the love in the world.” Your tears were free flowing now, with your confession, and you could see some moisture forming in his as well.

The two of you didn’t need to say anything more after that, your lips doing all the communicating for you.

These kisses were different, so much deeper, more romantic, more needy. He moved his leg over you and pressed some of his weight down into you, wrapping you in his warmth. He pulled away from your lips to continue further down your neck. Each time he pulled away, he whispered a confession into your skin.

“Spencer, I want to feel you inside of me, please.” You moaned into his touch, and he quickly agreed. Now that you two knew you had each other, you wanted to waste no time. He was hard already, having woken up with the perfect reason to hold you. He carefully lifted your legs up and apart, giving himself all the space he needed to make love to you.

“God, you’re so perfect for me,” he said, pausing to spit down on your pussy, spreading the wetness with his heavy cock. He sat there rubbing himself against you for a few minutes, his lips having reconnected with yours, swallowing every moan you made, along with any he couldn’t control from himself.

The two of you were so lost in each other, in the moment, that it felt like it lasted forever. With one last rub to your sensitive areas, he lined himself up with your hole, and slowly lowered himself in. Encouraging you to hold your knees up into a tighter position, he grabbed your hips and began setting a relentless pace. It wasn’t the slow sensual fuck from your motel room, or even the hard and fast mess of your first time in the file room, but somewhere in the middle. You could feel the passion and the love he held for you in his kisses, and the lust you had cultivated over the weeks in each thrust, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

“Yes, Spencer just like that, fuck,” you moaned out when he finally moved away from your lips, pressing his mouth into your neck again and biting down. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, but just hard enough that the pain heightened your pleasure.

With each thrust, your arms became weaker and weaker, your legs shaking furiously as he gave you all of him.

“Come on baby, just a few more, you can hold out for a few more,” he whispered in your ear, licking and sucking at the place he’d left his bite mark.

“I don’t think I can, I don’t think I can for musch longer, Spencer, please,” you whimpered your arms falling away from your legs. He replaced yours with his, pushing your body further into the bed, doing all the work and letting you just experience it.

“Okay, baby, you did great, you think you can come on my cock now, baby?” He asked and you immediately nodded, feeling the tell-tale bubbling of your orgasm beginning to rush through you. Your whole body stiffened as you screamed, his pace unrelenting as he rode you through the orgasm. He moved one hand down to your clit, rubbing you through it and keeping you sensitive, and even though you’d just had one of the most powerful orgasms of your life, you knew he meant to make you do it again.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well. I love you, sweetie, you’re doing so perfect for me,” you gasped and moaned into his ear, unable to think for the twitching in your cunt, driven slowly insane by the sensitivity.

“I’m almost there, baby, gonna fill your cunt with my seed.” He grunted in your ear, grabbing either side of your neck in his hands, resting his forehead against yours and thrusting harder and harder into you. You felt the second wave start to hit then, more drawn out than the first as he did his best to breed you, to plant himself firmly inside of you. He lasted only a few more thrusts before his hips stilled, bottomed out inside of you, and you felt rope after rope of his cum spurt into you.

“Fuck, princess, I love you.” He pressed another quick kiss y=to your lips, but you were whimpering from the continued contact now, and he quickly pulled out. He stopped to watch his cum drip out of you, knowing that he’d fully claimed you now, that you were his forever, and, resisting the urge to push into you again, left to grab something to clean you up with.

You laid there, gently coaxing your legs back into a comfortable position until he came back. He cleaned you up, bundled you up in some fresh pajamas, and returned you to the bed, wrapping you up in his arms once again, almost as if nothing had happened.

“It’s saturday, so we can just relax for the rest of the day, okay, princess?” You hid your face in his chest and nodded your approval, gently shutting out the rest of the world. It was you and him now, everyday of the week it was you and him.

Sunday

After two weeks of constant attention, you had to set a boundary with your new boyfriend very quickly, and you chose breakfast on the sunday morning to do it.

“Spencer, you know I love you, right?” you opened the conversation, filling up his coffee mug as he set the small table in the corner of your kitchen.

“Yes, you said it 246 times yesterday. I said it 274 times, but whose keeping count, right?” You laughed at him, and pulled him into a hug quickly, pressing a chaste kiss onto his lips.

“I love you, but we need to talk again.” You smiled up at him, trying your best to keep your poker face as you threatened to crack seeing his eyebrows knit together.

“Did I do something wrong?” he quickly asked, but you stroked his hair reassuringly, signaling for him to just listen to you.

“I really like my job, you know. I like working out in the field.” You smiled up at him, watching his confusion deepen.

“But if you keep fucking me like I’m a little whore everyday of the week, it’s only going to be a matter of time until I can’t walk, you know?”

---------------------------------------------------

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @cow-parsley @wakaladjarin @itsyagrillkat @ratbastardchild

[apocalypse-shuffle]

BLACK NOIR | EARVING (the boys)

—

“Promotion” (Black Noir x Fem!Reader)

| Being Black Noir’s new handler and him becoming obsessed with you since Mr. Edgar himself assigned you to him.

| SFW, vought employee!reader, (TW: Noir is kind of stalking the Reader, who’s uncomfortable but adapting mostly)

| 1k+ words

“You want me to…what?”

“Be Noir’s new personal handler.” He fans his hands out on the table with a shrug and gives you a disarming smile. “You’ll be expected to parlay direct mission instructions from me, accompany him to said missions and stay with the deployment team. I expect you to give written reports on his performance at the end of every day, active mission or not…”

Your eyes continue to widen as his barrage keeps going. This job would require you to be present for everything short of Noir wiping his ass and even then you’ll be outside the restroom.

Mr. Edgar finishes, gives you an expectant look, and you clear your throat.

“And, what if I don’t want the new position?”

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs, “I mean unless you don’t think you’re good enough for the promotion. Then I suppose I’ll just have to tell Ashley her recommendation was for naught.”

You laugh.

“No no, that’s fine. There’s no need to tell her anything…” you gulp, watching the man just look back at you before taking a second more to inhale, “…ex-cept that her recommendation payed off.”

He tilts his head and it feels like his eyes are boring through your own, boiling your brain to mush. Your voice is small as you push the rest of your words out in one exhale.

“And that I’ll be starting my new position tomorrow. Sir.”

You stretch a smile across your face and hiss out a sigh of relief as that finally gets the man to respond.

He instantly reanimates, reaching atop his desk to hand you a secure black portfolio made from hard plastic.

“That’s great. I’m glad you decided to take on this new journey, Ms. L/n. May it serve you well. Have a good day.”

You don’t dare drop your smile as you take the offered portfolio and shove it under your arm.

“Right.” You take a moment to mourn the loss of your old job before nodding, “Thank you for the opportunity, Sir. You have a good day as well.”

The older man nods back at you, attention immediately gone back to his computer monitor afterward. You blow out air from your nose and then turn on your heels.

It’s not until you’ve left the board room that it hits you.

“Shit.”

The man had just played you. Goddamn Edgar and his resoluteness. Once he’d decided to “ask” you about the upgrade in position he never intended for it to be an actual request.

You rub your temple and head to the restroom. At least you had the rest of the hours in the day before tackling your new job.

You hunker down in the stall after peeing to look over the papers Mr. Edgar gave you. As you're skimming through a whole lot of shit marked “classified” or “redacted” you have the stray thought to be glad that Translucent’s creep ass wasn’t here to ogle you and be all in your business anymore.

Thank the higher power for small mercies, you suppose.

All the snippets of information you're gathering are kind of baffling. Legal name: Earving (of all things), biological male, six foot two, African-American (that’s fun; may be the reason he took such a liking to you too, not many black people made it to the top floors of Vought after all). You dog-ear a packet about some sort of imaginary animals he sees in his mind before looking over a page about a severe peanut allergy. Hmm.

By the end of the day you’ve nearly gotten all the way through Noir’s portfolio, and you’ve also worked up an itch to get out of your skin that means you’re not working overtime worth a goddamn.

At six o’clock on the dot all of your crap is already quite thoroughly packed, your former workspace - barren thing that it already was due to regulations - was cleaned out and ready for the next poor soul, and you’re in the elevator heading for the sub-level garage.

Dead stare locked onto the floor numbers you become acutely aware of the bags weighing your eyes down.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

Black Noir's Personal Handler.

Despite Mr. Edgar’s clear efforts it was more than a little known open secret that personal handlers rarely got to retire. Madelyn Stillwell’s death might’ve been something none of you dared discuss for fear of either Edgar or - heaven forbid - Homelander catching wind and putting you back in your place, but it was a pattern of the job that you all were well aware of.

Though you’d take Mr. Edgar’s culling over whatever Homelander could possibly come up with.

Something about his blonde, blue-eyed, ass didn’t sit right with your spirit.

Far as PR and wrangling went though, short of maybe Starlight, any wrinkles Black Noir managed to make would be the easiest to smooth out.

Plus, even with you and Noir having some form of a pre-established relationship it was in no way dependent or built upon you being Noir’s emotional epicenter like Madelyn and Homelander’s weird…dynamic was.

You had seen and heard far too much in your years working for Vought to think for a second that there wasn’t something dark and twisted going on with The Seven, but Noir still seemed mellow in comparison to the rest and their constant ego trips and dick measuring.

You had zero clue how letting the fully covered man teach you a few notes to a song at the Christmas party when everyone was drunk off eggnog and watered down booze and sitting with him when he was crying on the floor once led you to this.

Sure the silent man and you had somewhat hit it off - so far as you were one of the few non-supers he didn’t intimidate or just flat out ignore - but to be made so intimately in charge of him seemed like a bit much.

Noir had seemed endlessly patient with you as he played for you and then eventually decided he’d teach you how to play the piano yourself, the sides of your bodies’ shifting incrementally until you were pressed flush to one another in both of yous concentration, so you could really only hope he kept that same levelness with you as his handler.

You bank the corner, work bag and portfolio on the same arm, and fish out your keys so you can unlock your trunk and shove your shit inside.

Hope truly was the name of the game here unfortunately. You could only hope Noir kept up his “good” streak, and that that streak wasn’t just a farce that you were now in charge of covering up. Hope that he didn’t end up getting angry or reckless and making you one of those *redacted* cases with a ‘cause of death, unknown’ attached to your name, because you could do nothing to stop him if he wanted to kill you.

Shiver racking up your spine and turning your blood to static, you snap your trunk closed, turning to leave when—

“—Fucking Christ!”

Eyes gone wide and spit having nearly choked you from your sharp inhalation before your exclamation, you do your best to appear composed as Black Noir himself steps out from a conclave of shadows to stand in front of you.

The Devil, you find yourself thinking. Had he been following you this whole time?

For his part Noir doesn’t move aside from cocking his head to the side.

Steadily, you force calmness onto yourself. Ignoring that your voice is too high when you call his name.

“Black Noir,” you say, trying to seep the professionalism back into your tone while smoothing down the creases in your pantsuit, “surprised to see you here. What can I do for you?”

The smile you offer him feels wonky even as you command the muscles up, but it’s the best you can do with your heart hammering against your chest as if it wants to run off and leave you behind.

For a couple more beats the man doesn’t do more than size you up presumably before finally - as you were weighing the pros and cons of just getting in your car despite his presence - raising a hand to point at your trunk.

You catch on to his meaning fairly quickly, your smile dropping to something more natural whilst you huff a tiny laugh.

“Oh yeah, guess Mr. Edgar must’ve told you. I’m your new handler - you know, if you had one before that is. I don’t…actually know…” you trail off, shifting on your heels when Noir only continues to keep his stillness.

“Mhm,” you mutter, rocking backwards, just staring until finally Noir shifts and there’s suddenly a pad and pen in his hand.

He flips casually to a clear page before starting to write and you’re fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever actually ‘talked’ to you.

Huh.

Not long after does the pad get flipped over and brandished to you. You click your teeth together.

‘Edgar says you’ll do good,’ he scribbles, writing absolute chicken scratch and letters far too large on the medium sized pages, before flipping the pad back to himself and writing some more.

‘Believe in you!’ and a whole bunch of smiley faces is what meets you once he lets you see.

You blink. Noir puts the pad back wherever he had it initially to give you two thumbs up.

You muster a slightly bigger half smile for his efforts.

“Thanks Noir,” you say, words more sincere than you’d been expecting.

A nod and an eternity more of silence and staring is what he gives you in response.

You’re getting ready to shift, to awkwardly relay that you’d like to be getting home soon, when Noir stiffens suddenly - and isn’t that startling, a man so tall and so strapped with sharp explosive deadly things going so alert like that - head tilting like he’s listening for something.

A few seconds go by like that where he doesn’t do anything else and you fight to keep yourself still, smile gone and part of your lip caught firmly between your teeth.

Then Noir’s giving you a nod and leaving just as silently and unseenly as he had come.

You wait another two-three beats before scrambling into your car. The sound of your lock engaging sounds like salvation and the steering wheel feels like a lifeline as you grip it with stiff nearly foreign fingers.

God.

You force a deep breath into your lungs, make sure it comes out more steadily than it came in.

At least Mr. Edgar didn’t dump you onto Homelander’s lap. Something in you shrivels up and dies at the mere prospect. You nod, your hands flexing on the steering wheel.

This was definitely better.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

This is a semi companion story to “Pandora’s Melody” if you’d like to check that one out as well.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

[lalalovejay]

|| NDA || ~ Lee Heeseung

♤Pairings: idol!heeseungXfem!fangirl!reader

♤Synopsis: Attending the New York show for Enhypen's first world tour, you find yourself in quite the predicament when a man approaches you and your best friend with a question that leaves you absolutely flabbergasted.

"Would you be willing to sign an NDA?"

♤Warnings: just straight up smut with a little plot, dom!heeseung, sub!reader, protected sex, cunnilingus(f!receiving), p in v, use of pet names (good girl, sir, princess, angel), use of derogatory names (slut, whore), blowjob(m!receiving), fingering(f!receiving), hair pulling, choking, I think that's it

♤Author's Note: This is 1000000% delusional and not based on any true stories. This is my first time writing smut on this platform, so please give me some feedback to help me do better next time! I would really appreciate it:) Also, this has been in my drafts for monthsssss so I finally finished it lol

(MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

"Hey, you ready to go?" Lucy asks you as she pulls on her boots.

"Yeah, one sec." You say before applying lipgloss over your red stained lips.

Grabbing your bag and lightstick, you follow your best friend out of your hotel room. Lucy skips down the hallway as you laugh at her giddiness.

"I can't believe we're actually gonna see them live! I'm so fucking excited!" Lucy squeals as you both reach the elevators.

Pressing on the button, you look over at her with an excited smile on your face.

"I can not wait to see Jake in real life. I'm so down bad for that man." You sigh at just the thought of him.

Lucy giggles and agrees.

"I need Sunghoon to read my sign and send me a kiss. After that, I can die in peace." She jokes along with you.

The elevator doors ding open before you both step in. Pressing the button for the lobby, you both patiently wait for the elevator to reach the ground level before stepping out.

"What if during Polaroid Love they come up to our section?! Please! I need Heeseung to sing to me!" Lucy groans as she imagines the man staring deep into her eyes as he serenades her.

You giggle at your friend who begins to daydream of concert scenarios.

"If they do come up to our section, I hope I can get Jake's attention." You say as you look down at the Jake photocard that hangs on your concert bag.

"I mean, we're hot. We're bound to get someone's attention, right?" Lucy jokingly says as you two exit the hotel doors and walk to the subway station.

After taking the subways to the venue, you both get in line as the time for the show to start inches closer. You both were able to get your hands on some freebies and banners while you waited.

Going through security and finding your seats, you two excitedly take pictures and videos of the venue and other fans in the crowd as you all wait for the show to begin.

"Holy shit! Holy shit! We're actually here!" You squeal at Lucy, who matches your energy as she holds your hand.

"Please! I need one interaction, and I'll be the happiest girl alive!" She says as she stares at the stage a few feet away from where your section was.

You two were able to find fairly good seats with an amazing view of the stage on the right side of the venue. Only a few rows up and at the end of the row in the aisle. Praying that the boys would come up to your section when they performed Polaroid Love.

Soon, the intro music began to play as the lights dimmed. The VCR begins playing as everyone screams. Lightsticks waving in the air as the screen begins moving. The 7 members of Enhypen on stage ready to give a performance of a lifetime for their loving fans.

You and Lucy scream as your biases face pop up on the big screen. Their stares are very intense as they each get into position to perform their opening song.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT! JAKE MOTHER FUCKING SIM!" You scream as he pops up on screen once again.

The concert goes on as planned. Each performance leaves everyone in awe. You and Lucy fangirling like no other. On this particular night, the fans had come up with a project for Heeseung as it was his birthday. While the members had their talking moment, the fans began singing Happy Birthday when the screen showed Heeseung. His smile was wide as he listened to the fans and members sing him a happy birthday.

In that moment, something switched in you. You always knew that Heeseung was a very attractive man. He was everything a girl wanted. Tall, handsome, funny, sweet, and good at everything.

"I think he just bias wrecked me with that smile." You tell Lucy as your eyes stayed glued onto Heeseung, who laughs slightly as he says his words.

Lucy laughs as she follows your line of sight to the man. His hair had been styled to show his forehead. He was absolutely glowing on his birthday.

"Don't tell Jake." You jokingly threaten Lucy as she shakes her head with a knowing smile on her face.

"Little Miss, I only want Jake Sim, is finally joining the dark side. Lee Heeseung will eventually have you wrapped around his finger. It's a canon event." Lucy says in a matter of fact tone as she goes back to ogling over Sunghoon, who began speaking.

For the rest of the night, your eyes tried to stay on Jake, but you found yourself searching for Heeseung every now and then. His stage presence was very overwhelming, and had you wishing you could see his beautiful face up close.

When Polaroid Love began playing, you and Lucy sang along, not really getting your hopes up of them coming to your section. The moment they ran off stage and began roaming the crowd, you and Lucy screamed in happiness.

Suddenly, the spotlight was shown in your section. You and Lucy look at each other with wide eyes.

"No.fucking.way." She says as you both look back at the group of boys making their way to your section.

You and Lucy scream, even louder, as they get closer. Jungwon leads the way as Jake, Niki and Heeseung follow behind. You and Lucy both stand next to each other as they walk by, Jungwon giving you both a kind smile and a high five. Jake smirks slightly as he sees the 'Jake' sticker on your lightstick. Lucy records the whole thing. Jake sends you a flying kiss before walking further up. Your eyes were too focused on the man to notice that Heeseung was standing directly in front of you after Niki passes by finishing Lucy's hand heart. Lucy pulls on your shoulder to get your attention, her own mouth agape as Heeseung stands in front of you both.

You swing back around and come face to face with a pair of dark eyes, a glint of playfulness swimming in them. You gasp as Heeseung smirks, bringing the mic to his lips as he begins singing to you. Your eyes widen as his eyes stare deeply into your own.

He sends a wink before following after the other boys who begin making their way back to the stage.

"OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?" Lucy screams as she shakes your shoulders.

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!" You scream back as you both fangirl over your interactions.

"I GOT IT ON CAMERA!" Lucy realizes as she looks down at her phone in her hand.

"Send it to me!" You say as you look back to the stage where they continued performing.

As the night goes on, you could have sworn that Heeseung had been glancing at your section for the rest of the concert. He interacted more with your side, and his eyes found your own a few times throughout the night.

"He wanna fuck." Lucy jokes as she catches Heeseung looking over again.

You chuckle as you enjoy the moment. Trying not to feel super flustered at the whole interaction you had with Heeseung knowing that he was just really good at fan service and you didn't want your delusions to get the best of you.

As the concert comes to an end and you all sadly have to say your goodbyes, the screen closes on the members as the lights turn on once again. You and Lucy stay seated as everyone around you picks up confetti and takes pictures or videos.

"I'm shook. Sunghoon sent me a kiss. I can die happily." Lucy dreamily says as she rewatches her concert videos.

"Let me see the Heeseung interaction again, I need to relive it." You ask Lucy as she scrolls through her camera roll to find the video.

Just as she was about to press play, you felt a tap on your left shoulder. You quickly look up to see who it was that had tapped you. A young Korean man stood before you both. The staff lanyard hanging around his neck.

"Yes?" You ask curiously.

You hoped you hadn't done anything wrong for the staff to come to you personally.

"Hi, I'm part of the staff traveling with the artists. I was asked by their manager to come get you both. He has a few questions and would like to talk." He tells you in a hushed voice so no one else could hear.

Lucy looks at you confused. You look back at her with the same expression.

"Uh, sure?" You say as you get up.

He leads you both towards the exit and into a door that says, 'Employees Only'. Lucy looks over at you nervously as you walk down a narrow hallway bustling with staff cleaning up. The man leads you to a door that says 'Management' and knocks twice.

"Come in!" A voice booms from inside.

He opens the door and steps to the side to allow you both to enter. You look over at Lucy uneasily but step in anyway. There were a lot of people around, so if anything happened, you would be able to scream for help. Lucy follows behind you hesitantly, and the man shuts the door once you both enter.

Two men sit on the couch and chair of the room as you both stand there awkwardly. You notice that the two men were Enhypen managers. Recognizing them instantly because of airport photos.

"Hello! I'm Sejin. Please, sit." The older man introduces himself and gestures to the two chairs across from them.

You look over at Lucy, who just shrugs and takes a seat. You follow her move and sit in the chair beside her.

"Are we in some sort of trouble?" Lucy asks as her eyes glance around the room nervously.

"Not at all! This discussion has to be private in order to protect our artists' image, so we asked to see you in private without the prying eyes and ears. My name is Woobin, by the way." Another manager tells you both.

"So what is this about?" You ask curiously.

Your eyes narrow in on the papers and pen sitting on the table in front of you all. The big letters, 'NDA', are boldly printed at the top. Your eyes widen slightly as you realize what's about to happen. You had only heard stories of this type of thing and never expected it to happen to you.

"Before we discuss any further. Would you be willing to sign an NDA? We can not disclose the topic of this conversation unless we have your full trust that you will not leak, speak, or even hint at having this conversation with us." Sejin asks the two of you.

You look over at Lucy, who looks back at you with wide eyes. Both of you realized exactly what they wanted to talk about.

"Before you make any decisions, may I ask your age and for your ID to confirm?" Woobin asks.

"I'm 21, and she's 20." You say as you and Lucy pull out your own IDs to show them.

Woobin looks it over before handing them to Sejin, who examines them as well. He nods his head before handing them back to you.

"So, will you sign? If you don't feel comfortable with it, it is understandable, and we'll have another staff member walk you two out safely." Sejin reassures you both of your safety.

"I'll sign." Lucy is the first to speak up.

You look at her in bewilderment.

"Lucy." You say her name to gain her attention.

"What? I want to know what they want to talk about. Besides, it's only an NDA. If you read the fine print, you should be fine before signing." Lucy says as she grabs the papers that lay on the table.

You sigh and grab them as well. Reading through the pages, eyes scanning over every printed word down to the page number that is printed on the bottom corner.

"Are you seriously gonna do this?" You ask Lucy.

"When will we ever get the chance to sign an NDA contract with an idol groups manager that we stan? Never. So, yes, I'm doing this." Lucy says as she gives the two men a small smile and picks up the pen to sign her name on the contract line.

You sigh as you contemplate for a little longer. You don't want Lucy to go through this alone. Worried about her safety you stupidly sign your name on the contract as well.

Handing the two contracts back to Woobin, he and Sejin sign their own names and place the contract into a small folder.

"Perfect. Now we can get to talking. The reason for this conversation is that 2 of our artists have asked to meet you both. If you agree, we will have a staff car pick you up from your accommodations and bring you to the artist hotel where you two will meet. Whatever happens between you both must be consensual, or it will be a breach of contract. It must be kept secret and hidden from others, or it will be a breach of contract. Do you both understand?" Sejin begins explaining.

"Yes." You and Lucy say.

"Good. If you would like to meet the 2 artists, you can give us a call at this number, and we will send a car to pick you up. This is all with your own consent, of course. If you decide not to, this conversation will stay between us, or it will be a breach of contract. We will not force you two to do anything you do not consent to. Our top priority is the safety of our artists and of you if you choose to meet with them." Sejin continues and hands you both a small card with only a phone number printed on it.

"Can I ask who the 2 artists are? And which of them asked for who?" Lucy asks them.

"Our artists Sunghoon and Heeseung. Sunghoon has asked for you, Miss Lucy. And Heeseung has asked for you, Miss (Y/N)." Woobin informs you both.

Lucy looks over at you in shock. Her bias had asked to meet with her. While you, on the other hand, had your bias wrecker of the night asking to meet with you.

"Oh 100% I am A okay to meet with Sunghoon." Lucy squeals as the information settles in.

You couldn't believe this was actually happening. Lee Heeseung had asked to meet with you. You. Of all the people he saw in that crowd tonight.

"Well, we have Miss Lucy's consent. How about you, Miss (Y/n)? If you still need time to think about it, we completely understand and will be a phone call away awaiting your answer." Sejin says.

"Okay." You whisper.

"I'm sorry?" Sejin asks, not hearing you properly.

"I said okay. I agree to meet with Heeseung." You tell him a little louder.

Your heartbeat drums in your ears as you continue to let the information sink in. Lucy squeals happily beside you as the two men give you both a reassuring smile.

"Great! You're more than welcome to return to your accommodations. The 2 should be back in their hotel rooms right about now. Since today is Heeseung's birthday, he will be doing a live before meeting with you. Will you both be okay with meeting the two around 12:30 am?" Sejin asks.

Lucy quickly nods her head.

"Yes! We'll be ready by then." She answers for you both.

Sejin smiles.

"Perfect. Just call the number when you're ready. Woobin will escort you ladies out. It was nice meeting you both." Sejin says and reaches his hand out for a handshake.

You take his hand and give it a firm shake in gratitude as Lucy does the same after you. Woobin gestures for you two to follow him out of the room and back into the once bustling hallway. The staff had cleaned up pretty much everything, and the hallway was now empty. He leads you towards the exit and allows security to walk you out the door.

Once you two make it outside, Lucy jumps up in excitement.

"Oh my god....that just happened." You finally realize the situation you were both in.

"I'm gonna get dicked down by my bias. This is fucking wild." Lucy laughs as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.

"I knew Heeseung wanted to fuck when he came up to you with that look in his eyes. He wanted you so bad, I'm telling you." Lucy says as you both walk back to the subway station.

Getting back to your hotel room, Lucy quickly rummages through her luggage for something presentable to wear for Sunghoon.

"Good thing we got waxed for this trip." Lucy jokes as she pulls out an over-sized button-up and a pair of biker shorts.

"I'm gonna rinse off the sweat from the concert. Feel free to look through my clothes if you don't have anything." Lucy winks at you before walking into the bathroom.

It was currently 11:56pm. Your weverse notifies you that a member of Enhypen was now live. Unlocking your phone, you click on the notification that brings you to the app and into the live. On the screen pops up Heeseung with his birthday cake. He's dressed in a black hoodie with the hood up. His dangly earrings sway every time he moves his head.

His bare face takes your breath away as you realize that you will be meeting with this man in less than an hour. You quickly rummage through your luggage for something to wear as the live continues playing in the background. Opting for something casual yet easily accessible, you pull out a pair of spandex and a hoodie. Opting for the only matching set you brought with you, the lacy white set begs for you to wear it and finally get some action. You weren't even sure what possessed you to bring a lingerie set in the first place, but you thanked the gods you did.

Lucy comes out from the bathroom dressed in her button-up and shorts. Her hair had been recurled slightly to give it a little more volume. You could tell she had retouched her makeup as well.

"Heeseung is live right now. I'm gonna rinse off as well and change." You tell Lucy as you walk into the bathroom with your clothes.

Lucy immediately snatches your phone and watches the live. Giggling as she realized the other members had entered and began celebrating with him.

After you get ready and make sure you have all your things, Lucy dials the number on the card. It was currently 12:23 am. The person on the other line asks for the hotel name and says that a car would be ready for them in 10 minutes.

Nerves settle into the pit of your stomach as the time inches closer and closer.

"Am I really about to have a one night stand with Lee Heeseung?" You ask Lucy who only laughs at your question.

"Yes. You're about to get a taste of South Korea." She winks at you before pulling you out the door and towards the elevator.

The entire ride to the hotel had your stomach in twists. Nerves eating at you as you enter the hotel Enhypen and their staff were currently staying in. You play with the hem of your hoodie as you both ride the elevator up to the floor the members are currently staying on.

"Sunghoon is in room 70G, and Heeseung is in 72G." The staff member informs you both as you reach the 7th floor of the hotel.

"Thank you." You say to the staff member as you exit the elevator.

Lucy holds your hand tightly as you walk down the quiet hallway towards the rooms. Your eyes scan the numbers on the doors, searching for the one that currently occupies the idol who had asked to meet you. You both reach 70G first. Meaning Lucy will be leaving you alone for the rest of the night.

"Have fun." Lucy winks at you before knocking on the door.

A moment later, the door is being pulled open by none other than Park Sunghoon himself. His eyes glance over at you for a second before going back to Lucy.

"Hi." He says quietly as he opens the door a little wider for Lucy to enter.

Lucy gives you a thumbs up before stepping in. Sunghoon bows his head slightly to you before shutting the door behind Lucy.

You mentally curse at yourself as you awkwardly walk to the room with 72G plastered on its door. Taking in a deep breath, you bring your hand up to knock on the door. You hear shuffling and the sound of someone walking over before the door is being pulled open. Heeseung stands before you with his hood still on the way you had seen it when you were watching his live earlier.

"Hi." You manage to squeak out as Heeseung's eyes look you up and down.

A different look in them now compared to the sweet eyes you had seen on his live. He smirks slightly.

"Hi." He says back to you before stepping aside and pulling the door open wider to allow you entry.

You nervously step forward and enter the hotel room. Heeseung closes the door behind you both and leads you further into the room. You see the partially eaten cake sitting on the desk and the fallen balloons on the second bed.

"Uh, I just ended the live not too long ago, so don't worry about the camera." Heeseung reassures you as he points at the camera that sits on the tripod in front of the cake.

You already knew that because your phone had been playing his live the entire time you were on the way over. He had ended the live before you reached his door.

"No worries!" You smile up at the man before you.

His height towering over your small frame as you awkwardly shift from leg to leg. Heeseung chuckles before taking your bag from your hand and setting it on the table behind him.

"So, what's your name?" He asks you as he sits down on the rolling chair and gestures for you to take a seat on the edge of the bed.

You follow his lead and sit down before stuffing your hands in your hoodie pockets out of nervousness. Heeseung was wearing a pair of gray sweats along with his black hoodie that looked so good on him. His face looked 10 times better bare. His smile sent arrows into your heart, whereas his smirks sent a chill down your spine.

"My name is (Y/n)." You tell him as your eyes dart around the room.

Heeseung finds you cute as you try not to make eye contact with him.

He chuckles before getting up from the chair and standing in front of you. Your eyes widen as you look up at him from your seated position. The tension filling the air quickly. His eyes hooded as he looked down at you with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

"You're very pretty." Heeseung compliments you.

He brings a hand up to cup the side of your face. Thumb pressed gently on your bottom lip.

"Is this okay?" He asks you.

You can't speak. Only nodding your head slightly.

"I need words, princess. Can I touch you?" He asks.

His voice two tones deeper than usual. The arousal clear in his eyes. You feel the butterflies swarming your stomach at the pet name.

"Yes." You say as you continue looking up at him with slightly wide eyes.

Heeseung smirks.

"Good girl." He says before pressing his thumb past your lips and onto your tongue.

You raise a hand up to wrap around his wrist gently. Closing your lips around his thumb, you suck on his finger. Heeseung chuckles at the sight of you.

"Are you gonna let me ruin you tonight, angel?" Heeseung pulls his thumb from your mouth to allow you to answer him.

"Yes, sir." You find yourself falling into submission for him rather quickly.

Heeseung's eyes darken at the name given to him.

"How do you like it, baby? I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable." Heeseung asks.

Reassuring you that he won't take advantage of you and will abide by your consent.

"I like it rough, sir. Wanna cry for you. Wanna make you feel good, sir." The confidence rising in you as Heeseung's eyes eat you up.

"Fuck." He groans before leaning down to crash his lips against your own.

Your hands find their way into his hair, gripping at the roots as one of his hands wraps around your throat gently, and the other slides up your hoodie to grip your waist. Pushing you down on the soft bed, lips smacking, teeth clashing, tongues colliding. The kiss is heated and messy as you both move further up along the bed to get into a more comfortable position.

Heeseung has his knees on either side of your hips, trapping you beneath him. His hand that grips your waist moves up slightly to touch the underside of your right boob. You sigh at the feeling of his some what rough hands on your skin.

"Take it off." Heeseung commands, gesturing to your hoodie.

You waste no time sitting up slightly to pull off your hoodie and toss it to the side. Your white lace bra cupping your tits perfectly on display for Heeseung to see. He moans slightly at the sight, his hands coming down to grope them.

"You look so pretty in white, angel. Is this all for me?" Heeseung asks.

You moan at his touch. Heeseung places kisses from your jaw down to your neck. Sucking harshly and leaving marks down your clavicle to your chest. One of his hands pulls down the lacy cup of the bra and frees your left breast. Nipples hard as your arousal kicks in. Your hands grip the sheets beneath you.

"Yes, sir. All for you." You moan out when he begins teasing your nipple.

Heeseung wraps his lips around the free breast, sucking and biting on your nipple while his other hand continues groping your other one. Giving both of your boobs plenty of attention. You feel the wetness pooling in your panties at the stimulation.

"So good, sir." You moan.

Praising Heeseung for the pleasure he's giving you.

Heeseung pulls away to slip off his own hoodie. Staring down at you with lust filled eyes. You admire his body. Lean and fit. His abs faintly showing and his v-line directing your eyes to his achingly hard cock straining against his sweatpants. Just the outline alone had you drooling. He was big. Long and thick.

Heeseung smirks down at you as he catches you shamelessly gawking over his naked torso.

You gulp slightly as you meet his dark eyes once again.

"You can touch me, angel." He chuckles.

Your hands move on their own accord as they roam down his chest. Feeling his hot skin beneath your palms. Every dip of his muscles. You were in absolute shock that you were touching one of your idols in this way.

Heeseung places a hand on your own, guiding you further down to where he wanted to feel you the most. Palming his hard on with your own soft hands, he groans at the contact.

"Was thinking about this the entire time I was performing. Saw you screaming so prettily for us. Wanted to hear you scream my name only." Heeseung tells you.

You gasp as he wraps your fingers around his clothed cock. Your thighs squeezing together underneath him.

"Wanna see you, sir. Wanna have my mouth full of you, please." You whine.

He smirks at your words.

"Anything you want, princess." Heeseung says before sliding off the bed to help you down on your knees.

You stare up at him through your lashes as you slide his sweatpants further down his hips and past his mid thigh. Dragging his briefs down with it. His aching cock springing up to gently slap at his lower stomach. The tip red and leaking with precum. His dick print did nothing in preparing you for his actual bare cock. It was a pretty pink with a few prominent veins from the base to the tip. He was long and fairly thick.

You lick your lips as you look up at Heeseung for permission to continue. He chuckles before pulling on your hair and holding it back for you.

"Go on, angel." Heeseung gives you the go.

You wrap a hand around his base, squeezing slightly to get a good feel of his weight. He hisses through his teeth when he finally feels your soft hands wrapped around him. His dark eyes never once leaving your dirty ministrations below him. You collect some saliva into your mouth before spitting on his cock. Using it as a lubricant to move your hand quicker up and down his dick. He groans as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock. Sucking lightly and licking his slit. Your other hand comes up to grope his balls. Toying with them as your lips move further down his hard length. The feeling of your warm mouth wrapped around him has Heeseung in a daze.

"Fuck. You're not an angel at all. You're just a filthy cock whore aren't you? Letting someone you don't even know fuck your mouth like this. I'm gonna fuck you so hard and ruin you for anyone else. Not even Jake would be able to please you like I will." Heeseung harshly says as he takes over and thrusts his cock down your throat.

You gag slightly at his sudden move. Not prepared yet to take him so far. Your eyes water as he pulls out of your mouth with his tip resting on your bottom lip. Heeseung smirks before slipping his cock back in your mouth, fucking your face for his own pleasure. You said you liked it rough so Heeseung was gonna give you just that.

You obediently sit on your knees and let him fuck your throat. Trying to relax your muscles as much as you could with him slipping further and further down. Your hands grip onto his flexed thighs, nails leaving an imprint on his fair skin as you try and breathe. The sounds of you gagging and Heeseung's groans fill the room entirely. You stare up at the man before you, looking god sent as he basks in the feeling of your mouth.

"Fuck me." He curses as he feels his orgasm approaching.

He looks down at your teary eyes, cheeks red and lips puffy. God, you looked so beautiful.

"Gonna cum for my cock whore. Are you gonna take it all, baby? Be my good girl?" Heeseung asks as his thrusts slow down slightly to grant you some mercy.

You nod your head, greedily sucking in as much air as you could before Heeseung decides to slip down your throat for much longer this time. Tears fall from your eyes at the sudden move. You couldn't breathe but you tried your best to get Heeseung to cum quickly.

He groans as he feels his orgasm washing over him. Releasing his cum down your throat.

"Fuck!" He moans out, throwing his head back at the feeling of his high.

He pulls out of your mouth, his cock still semi-hard as he watches you swallow his cum. A few drops dripping down your chin. Heeseung swipes his finger across your chin to pick up the rest of his cum that dripped past your lips. He slips his cum coated finger into your sore mouth, letting you suck the rest of it off. Opening your mouth, you stick your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all like a good girl.

"What a dirty whore." Heeseung smirks before pulling you onto your feet and crashing his lips against your own.

You whimper against his tongue that intrudes your mouth. Tasting you and his own cum on your tongue. His hands snake around your body and greedily unclasps your bra. You gasp against his lips at the feeling of your bare chest meeting the cool air of the room.

"The most perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." Heeseung compliments.

Pushing your body gently onto the bed, your back against the soft sheets. Heeseung pulls your shorts down, leaving you in nothing but your lace panties.

"I wanna taste you, baby. Will you let me have a taste?" He asks you as he lays in between your open legs.

Kissing up your soft thighs closer and closer to your needy core. You moan at the feeling of his soft lips against your warm skin.

"Yes, sir. Want you so bad. Please. Please. Please." You give him consent to eat you out.

Heeseung wastes no time in diving in. The sweet smell of you intoxicating his senses. He kisses your wet slit through your lace panties. The embarrassingly wet patch soaking through the thin fabric. Bringing his fingers up to your clothed pussy, he slips the thin material to the side allowing him to see your pretty pussy up close. Blowing slightly on your sensitive core, teasing you to wrap your thighs around his shoulders.

"Don't tease, sir. Please. Been so good for you." You beg him.

"Wanna take my time with you, angel. I don't know if I'll ever be able to have this pussy ever again." Heeseung says before licking a stripe up your folds to your clit.

Sucking on the sensitive bud, you moan out loud at the pleasure that travels up your spine. Your needy pussy finally getting the attention it wanted. Your right hand finds solace in Heeseung's hair, gripping harshly making Heeseung moan against your cunt. Your left hand grips onto the pillow you're currently laying on. The sweet pleasure sending you into a state of euphoria. You've never been the biggest fan of someone eating your cunt but the way Heeseung absolutely makes out with your pussy like it's the only thing he lives for has you on cloud nine.

"FUCK!" You scream out when you feel Heeseung's two fingers enter your tight hole.

His fingers curling just right against your warm walls. Lips sucking and tongue licking your pussy like a man starved. Heeseung watches your every expression. The way your eyes roll back and clench shut every time he sucks on your clit. How your head is thrown back when his fingers reach deeper inside of you. He probably enjoyed this more than you were. His cock already achingly hard once again at just your noises alone. The way you moan out curse words and his name.

He wasn't sure how he was supposed to let you go after this. He was drunk on you and your body. The way it reacted to him had him praying he'd see you again after this.

You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as Heeseung sucks harshly on your clit.

"DON'T STOP! OH GOD I'M GONNA CUM!" You tell Heeseung.

His fingers pump in slightly quicker to get you to reach your high. Heeseung is messy as he laps at your cunt. It only takes him one last pump of his fingers to have you tipping over the edge.

"FUCK ME!" You moan out as your legs shake around his shoulders.

Locking him in as he licks you through your orgasm. Your cum dripping out and around his fingers, staining his chin and the sheets below you both.

You whimper as the overstimulation settles in. Unlocking your weak legs from around his shoulders and pushing his head away from your sensitive pussy.

"Too much, sir." You weakly tell him.

The aftershocks of your mind blowing orgasm leaving you hazy.

"Tastes so fucking sweet, baby girl. Could eat you for the rest of my life." Heeseung says, sucking on his cum soaked fingers.

You bite your lip at the sight of him. His eyes are hooded and dark, his face filled with pure pleasure.

"Fuck me please, sir. Wanna feel your big cock stretching my pussy. It's all yours, sir. All for you, Heeseung." You whine.

Sitting up from your position, lips attaching to his once again to taste yourself on his tongue. Heeseung slips out of his sweats and briefs. Pumping his hard cock and pushing you back down on the bed. His lips never leaving your own as he pushes your knees up to your chest.

"Gonna fuck this pretty pussy until you're cumming around my cock, princess. Wanna see you cry for me like you promised. Make me the happiest birthday boy, yeah?" Heeseung teases you.

"Yes, please. Wanna give you the best birthday gift, sir." You tell him.

Heeseung pulls out a condom from the nightstand beside the bed. Ripping the wrapper with his teeth, he rolls the condom onto his hard cock and aligns himself with your tight hole. You both gasp as the tip of his cock slips into your wet pussy. Not wanting to waste any more time teasing. Heeseung stares deeply into your eyes. Pushing your knees further down against your chest, he slips into you deeper. Moaning at the feeling of your tight and warm pussy wrapping around him, Heeseung slips a hand around your neck and lightly squeezes.

He bottoms out in your pussy, pushing all the way in in one swift movement. You whimper when you feel the tip of his cock push past your walls and kiss your cervix. He was definitely the biggest and thickest cock you've ever had. The slight pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"Please fuck me, sir. Want it rough. Wanna cum on your cock so bad." You say breathlessly as you stare into Heeseung's eyes.

"Fuck." Was all Heeseung could say before pulling out of your pussy and slamming back in to you roughly.

His hips move mercilessly as he thrusts into your soaking cunt at a pace that has you seeing stars. You weren't even sure where all this strength came from. He had just finished an almost 3 hour concert yet he was fucking into you like he had all the stamina in the world.

Heeseung's hand squeezes your neck tighter. His cock brushing against your womb with every thrust.

"So. Fucking. Tight." He groans out the words between each quick move of his hips.

The sound of skin on skin and your moans fill the hotel room. You completely forget that your best friend was also in the room next door probably also getting her back blown out by Sunghoon.

"Oh shit. Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!" You can't get a proper sentence out.

Heeseung was fucking you too good. It had been a while since you last got laid, but none of your past sexual partners could ever compare to Heeseung.

He truly was ruining you for anyone else.

"My dirty slut. Pussy so wet and welcoming for me. It's all mine. Say it. Say this pussy belongs to me." Heeseung let's his possessiveness run wild.

He knew you weren't his, but hearing you say it would push him closer to the edge. He needed to hear you say you were his.

"Fuck! It's all yours. This pussy is only yours." Your mind is hazy as the words spill out.

The tightening knot in your stomach about to break away. Tears fall from your glossy eyes as Heeseung tightens his hold around your throat.

"I can feel you clenching around me so tightly, princess. Are you gonna cum? Go ahead and cum all over me, baby. Wanna feel you cream my cock." Heeeseung says as he rests on his knees and pulls your hips higher to fuck into you at a different angle.

The change in position has the tip of his cock hitting your g-spot head-on. A loud moan rips from your throat at the new feeling.

"FUCK! I'm cumming." You let him know before you completely let go of the tight knot.

Your second orgasm washing over your body in waves. Thighs trembling by Heeseung's sides as both his hands move down to grip your waist tightly. He wasn't far behind you as he fucks you through your high and into overstimulation.

"Cum for me, sir. Please." Your eyes glossy, lips parted, and hair a beautiful mess against the white sheets.

Heeseung wishes he could take a picture of just how good you looked at this moment all fucked out on his cock.

"Shit." He moans out as he finally tips over the edge and cums into the condom.

His thighs clench tightly as he shoots his cum into the rubber. It flows out around the base of his cock and slides down the back of your thighs and to your ass. He couldn't believe he came so much that it leaked out from the condom. It's never happened with anyone else he's been with.

Letting your waist go, he leans down to connect your lips once again. This time, it was a little slower and more sensual. Not hungry or needy.

"Thank you." Heeseung says as he pulls away from you to stare at you.

You finally feel the shyness creeping back up on your face as you come out of your sex haze.

"For what?" You ask him after a few seconds of silence.

He smiles his dazzling smile down at you and pecks your lips.

"For giving me the best gift this year." He tells you.

You cover your face with your hands as the heat creeps onto your cheeks. Heeseung chuckles at your embarrassment and presses soft kisses to the backs of your hands and wrist. Gently prying your hands away so he could see you again.

He was still soft inside you, and you felt very sticky between your thighs, but you didn't mind because having Heeseung close to you like this was something you could only ever dream of.

"Let's get washed up, yeah? Then we'll figure out what to do next." He suggests.

You look up at him in slight shock. You expected him to just ask you to leave quietly after this, but his words insinuated he wanted to spend more time with you.

You agree to the washing up part, so Heeseung slips out of you and throws the used condom away. Heeseung asks you to join him in the shower, and so you do. He gently washes you and pampers you with soft kisses against your shoulders and neck. Making you cum for the third time that night on his fingers. Heeseung really couldn't get enough of you.

When you both finished and you were dressed in nothing but one of his large clean shirts, you two lay on the other bed in the room and get to know one another better.

You tell Heeseung about your job back at home, your family, your best friend that was currently still next door, and how you got into Enhypen.

Heeseung tells you stories of his life when he was a trainee, his time on I-Land, the other members, and even about his family.

You two were really getting close, and you hadn't even realized it was nearing 3 in the morning. Talking to Heeseung came easily. He wasn't judgemental and had a comforting aura that just made you feel welcome. You didn't feel like a fan and their idol.

Just you and Heeseung.

Two regular people.

"I don't think I can let you go after this." Heeseung tells you honestly as he looks over at you.

He had been playing with your fingers while you told him about a childhood story.

You feel your heart stop at that moment. Your eyes finding his own to see if he was just saying it to fuck with you or not. A nervous smile plays on his lips as he adverts his gaze to the ceiling. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you fully observe the actual beauty that makes up Lee Heeseung.

"I think we'll get in trouble if we keep in touch." You tell him.

He sighs and nods his head.

"I know. But.....you can keep a secret, right?" A mischievous look dances in his eyes as he finally looks over at you.

You smirk up at him.

"I didn't sign an NDA for no reason." You joke.

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 27: Gloryhole - Nick Fowler

Summary: You worked in a club that catered to the wealthy and powerful, with the job to satisfy them all in whatever way they wished. But what happens when the person needing satisfaction happens to be your boss, Nick Fowler?

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, reader!stripper/prostitute, multiple customers, oral (m!receiving), degradation, possessive, deepthroat, fingering, glory hole, rough sex, praise kink, sir kink, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

Everyone gathered in the centre of the club, lounging on the lavish couches or on the edge of the stage that had multiple poles and dancing areas. The place was squeaky clean and, in the brightness, looked pretty respectable for a nightclub, showing the hundreds of thousands of dollars spent by the owner on maintaining the building. However, once the lights began to dim and the music turned up to a deafening level, the club became a haven for those with power and money to do whatever seedy activities they wished.

It paid well, especially the tips from specific customers, so you were more than happy to get dolled up every night and pleasure men and women in the back rooms, dance, or perform if it was what they wished.

Picking at your intricately designed nails, you chatted casually with the other girls and one of the security, waiting for the boss to come and inform everyone where they were positioned for the day. To ensure that your skills are kept up to top quality, the girls are usually moved around, and today, you were hoping to avoid being on the stage, needing a break from spinning and dancing as your muscles were starting to feel the strain of it.

The whispers hushed to silence as Mr Fowler strutted in, his signature smirk and crisp suit hugging his body to perfection. You couldn’t help but straighten your posture, the nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach that always seemed to come whenever he was in the room. He was a powerful man and your boss, making your need to impress him more severe.

“Evening, everyone. I hope you’ve all had a good night's sleep because you’ve got a long night ahead of you. We have some special guests tonight who have heard the rumours on my…samplings”, he gestured to the girls around the room that he’d made sure all had different ethnicities, shapes, heights, eye colours, everything you could possibly think of to appease to whoever would come and spend their money in his club. With his hands in his pockets, Mr Fowler began leisurely walking around the room, addressing each girl and where he wanted them to be.

Your breaths paused as he stopped before you, his startling bright eyes exploring your body, which was covered in a dressing gown as you’d decided to change after finding out where you would be working tonight. Refraining from letting your eyes roll as his exquisite aftershave floated over your senses, you waited for your instructions.

“Sweetheart, you’ll be in the hole. I want you to be at your very best today. I’ll be sending my special guests to you throughout the night as they like to keep things anonymous”. 

He only continued with his instructions to the other girls once you’d responded with a nod and “Yes, sir”, but his eyes lingered on your bottom lip that you’d tugged between your teeth.

It had been a while since you’d been to the glory hole, but you were somewhat thankful for this as it wasn’t as strenuous as dancing on stage for hours. You also took it as a compliment in a sick sort of way that he had trusted you to be in his most famous of locations, especially with there being some important guests.

As everyone was dismissed, you walked to your locker and prepared for the night. There wasn’t much point wearing clothes when you’d be switching between using your mouth, pussy, hands and ass if it was what the customer wished for. So, you kept the dressing gown on and collected a pillow, bottle of water, towel, and some lube.

The glory hole was in a unique set of cubicle toilets; however, even this was luxurious and not anything like the dark and dingy glory holes you were used to seeing on porn websites. Instead, it was bright and welcoming, even if it was designed to be a toilet other than the hole in the cubicle at the end. Waving to the security guy who was stationed outside of the door, you entered and breathed in the regal scents from the air fresheners as you walked to your stall. There was a small shelf above the toilet that you placed all your items on except for the pillow, which you placed on the floor, knowing you’d spend a lot of time tonight using your both and wasn’t prepared to destroy your knees by being on them for hours on the marble flooring.

As the music increased, you sat on the toilet lid and scrolled through your phone, waiting patiently for the first customer. 20 minutes pass, and the door opens, the music intensifying for a moment and then dimming as the door clicks closed. Quietly, you switched your phone off and slid onto your knees, getting comfortable on the pillow as you heard the customer step into the toilet cubicle next to yours and could see a flash of expensive-looking pinstripe suit through the circular hole in the wall.

Seconds pass, and then a had cock is slipping through the hole. Your mouth descends onto it instantly, licking a long strip up the underside. It was a couple of inches long, so you had no issue taking the length entirely, which seemed to please whoever was on the receiving end of the oral sex if the groans were anything to go by.

He didn’t last very long as you gathered the cum into your mouth and quietly spat it into the tissue. You’d learnt from past mistakes that swallowing too much cum on a night like this only made it settle heavy in your stomach and left you feeling queasy by the end of the night. It wasn’t like they could see anyway, as the customers were usually zipping themselves up and exiting.

The next few were in similar situations. They were sticking their dick through the hole, and you were sucking or jerking them off to completion. Every so often, there would be someone who wanted to dirty talk, calling you their slut, whore or other unimaginative derogatory names that increased the firmness of their length. It was all white noise to you. You were here to do one job, which, to be truthful, you did very well, so if they wanted to be vulgar, they could because, at the end of the day, you were still getting a fat paycheck.

There were occasions when the customers would push a wad of rolled-up dollars through the hole as they zipped themselves up again, which you happily stacked on the shelf. These were your favourite customers, and sometimes, when you were lucky, you’d have a couple of fingers stick through the hole, wishing to pleasure you and hear your moans. Most of the time, you faked it as it was always an awkward angle, or they just thought ramming their fingers in and out without any clitoral play would ever be enough. It wasn’t, but they didn’t need to know that you were faking an orgasm as you scrolled through TikTok.

The night passed by steadily, and so far, you’d received very positive responses from the customers, and even though your jaw was aching and hands tingling from the amount of squeezing you’d been doing, it was definitely one of your better nights. It had also become incredibly warm in the windowless room, so your dressing gown had been hung on the back of the door so that you were completely naked.

The door opens and closes as you rush to shut the water bottle in your hand, swallowing the cool liquid that soothed the dryness in your mouth. Slow, calculated steps echo and bounce off the walls as you wait on your knees for the next customer, not thinking anything of the powerful stride walking towards you. The cubicle's door opens and shuts with the lock finding its home as you try to peep through the hole to have a glimpse as to who is next.

A flash of a black suit and then a thick, long cock is passing through the hole. Your eyes widen for a second, staring at the dick in front of you. It was the best-looking cock that had been in here tonight. The dark pubes were perfectly trimmed. Even though it had an incredible length, it still was rock hard and throbbing in the air, the veins bulging along the shaft and the bulbous tip a beautiful deep maroon that you complimented would look good as a lipstick shade.

Whoever it was, had a magnificent member that for once had your abdomen warming with arousal, and you hoped that whoever it was would ask to fuck your pussy, just to feel your walls stretch around it.

You licked the palm of your hand, deciding to get a feel of him first. Your fingers only just reached each other as you wrapped around his shaft, feeling the velvety soft skin and the firmness of the thumping blood beneath the surface. He was hot in your hand, and as you squeezed him tightly and moved your fist towards his tip, a clear drip of precum bubbled into the hole.

Your tongue darted out, catching the liquid and swallowing. The moan you produced was genuine because, for once, whoever it was, the skin tasted clean and not like he’d been sitting in his ball juice for hours on end. Even the precum had a satisfying salty taste to it, but you blamed those thoughts on the increasing flame between your legs.

Sitting up further on your knees, your tongue began to gently lap at the underside of his cock, following the movements of your fist. As you reached the base, the overwhelming scent of aftershave brushed over your nose as you completely froze, eyes widening and breath stilling.

A deep chuckle that you recognised immediately floated from the other toilet. “Hmm, finally recognised me at last, have you, sweetheart?” Mr Fowler confirmed your suspicions. Your body didn’t know how to handle this news. One the one had it still in fear, throat drying and heart pounding beneath your ribs. However, it also burned even more desperately with the need to satisfy him and do something you had been hoping for for months.

Even though Nick Fowler was an incredibly handsome man, he had always kept to himself, never once indulging in the girls he employed, which helped to gain the trust of the employees. This was a double-edged sword for you, having always found him attractive beyond words, but knowing any advances that you made would be worthless and potentially see that you were fired.

So now that he was here, cock resting on your tongue and in your palm, you were conflicted with what to do.

“You see, I’ve been hearing some very, very good things about the goings on in here. So much so that these gentlemen tonight have booked in with us for a further four nights, which means my profit has increased a whole fucking lot. And that’s all down to the perfect princess in the end stall.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to say. It wasn’t like you’d been going out of your way to pleasure the people coming and going from the glory hole; you’d just been doing your regular sucking and touching, so to hear him speaking so highly of your work had a deep shiver running down your spine and pooling between your legs.

“With all the high praise, I thought it would be a good idea to come and see what all the fuss was about. Test the goods, if you will. Do you think you can handle me, Princess?”

Your eyes fluttered close at the nickname, as simple as it was, the way his deep, sultry voice seemed to kiss the air, making everything seem like the most cheek-warming compliment; you were ready just about to do anything your boss asked of you.

“Yes, sir”, was your quick verbal response before your sexual acts continued. Squeezing your fingers around his cock again, your mouth moved at the same time to the very tip, wrapping your warm lips around him entirely and letting the natural weight of him lay against your tongue.

Closing your eyes, you tried to forget that it was your boss on the other side of the wall and that this was probably the most crucial blowjob that you’d ever given before.

Your mouth filled with salvia, helping to wet his length as you lapped over his size with delicate little licks as your hand moved up and down the base of his shaft. Mr Fowler sucked in a breath through his teeth as his cock throbbed in your mouth. “Didn’t think you’d be such a tease, show me what you’ve got, Sweetheart”.

Your smile for a moment before taking more of his length into your mouth, pressing your flat tongue against the sensitive underside and hollowing your cheeks to suck him in. Opening your eyes, you watched more of his cock disappear into your mouth as you forced yourself to relax your throat, a skill you had mastered since working for him.

Nearly the entire length of your boss’ cock slipped down your throat, causing a bulge with how your airflow was completely cut off, the lining of your eyes flooding with tears from the overwhelming sensation. There was still a portion of his member that hadn’t entered the warm cavernous home of your mouth, so your hand squeezed and tugged so he was utterly stimulated.

“Fuck! I knew that pretty little mouth of yours would be trouble”, Nick groaned, trying to push his hips against the wall to try and fuck your face. You tried not to choke on his length at the tiny compliment mixed into his words.

Pulling back slowly, you made sure to suck his cock thoroughly whilst licking every inch that you could. Now you knew he liked what you could do; you were desperate to see just how much you were able to make him moan.

You deepthroated him again, choking and holding your breath, eyes continuing to water and more saliva filling your mouth. Eventually, you were able to find the perfect rhythm of bobbing your head up and down his cock, listening to the gruff quiver of his voice as his palm slapped against the wall of the toilets as he became delirious due to the pleasure.

It was nearly unbearable how turned on you were. Your throbbing clit was begging to be touched so gently you spread your knees and slipped your unused hand to gently circle it, adding pressure whenever he made a noise like a reward for yourself.

The evidence of your arousal was soaking over the tips of your thighs, drenching the two fingers being used to stimulate yourself. Eventually, you needed more, especially as your chin was becoming coated in drool as the blowjob became more sloppy. Lowering your fingers, you couldn’t help and bust in a moan that caused your throat to vibrate around the cock within as those two wet fingers slipped into your hole and curled.

“Holy shit, do that again”, Mr Fowler begged behind the thin wall. You moaned again as your hips bucked to meet your finger's movements. “That feels so fucking good, I knew I’d never regret hiring you. Do you only offer your mouth?”

You pulled off the end of his mouth with an audible ‘pop’ and swallowed thickly the considerable amount of saliva in your mouth as you tried to find your words. “No, they can have any part of me they’d like”. As you explained, you pumped his cock with both hands, forgetting about your pleasure for a moment.

“Good girl,” his praise was like a sweet symphony to your ears. “Has anyone else used the other services tonight?”

“No, Sir. Only my mouth and hands; a couple have fingered me but nothing else”.

Nick growled as his fingers appeared over the top of the cubicle as he tried to hold onto something. As you wished for a moment that, there was a camera in his toilet so you could see him flush against the wall, holding on for dear life. “So you’re telling me that all those powerful people out there are spending all their money for another four days just because of a couple of sucks and tugs? You really are special, aren’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to share you in here and keep you all to myself”.

Biting your lip, you tried to stop yourself from grinning, just listening to him becoming possessive, which was a widespread occurrence during these intimate acts. Many of the people were so overcome with the pleasure that they’d decided that they would keep you all to themselves to use if and when they needed you. Usually, it earned an eye-roll, but right now, you were dripping wet and ready to hand in your notice if it meant you could just stay by his side and suck his cock every day.

“I’d be more than happy to let you feel my other talents, sir”, you suggested before thinking it through properly. Not that you’d regret this offer, as you were incredibly horny and wanted nothing more than to please him further.

The wall between you both creaked under the pressure of Nick’s hands gripping the top as his hips began rocking, causing his cock to push and pull through the hole. “Oh, princess, you have no idea how badly I want that right now”.

With great enthusiasm, you stood on shaky legs, ignoring the pins and needles that formed in the balls of your feet, having been on your knees for so long and turned around, facing away from the glory hole. Spreading your legs and reaching between them, you grasped his cock once more and began to position him between your legs, where you closed them firmly, trapping his length between your damp thighs.

You rocked your hips, causing his dick to press against your pussy folds, rubbing your clit and for him, he was trapped in the tight, wet hold of your legs as he fucked your thighs.

“So fucking wet and soft”, he muttered under his breath, and once more, you wish you could have been watching his face, wondering if his eyes were just as glazed as how yours were feeling at that moment.

You had him fucking your thighs for a few moments longer and then decided to change things up, not wanting to wait anymore as your feet widened the stance, and his cock nudged against your hole.

The moan you released was mouthwatering for Nick as he felt the sensitive tip of his cock become lost within your tight, gummy walls. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as your hips moved backwards, slowly to give yourself a chance to adjust to his thick size until your cheeks were flush against the wall.

“You’re so big, sir”, you blurt out, body shaking with trepidation at the pressure of being stretched for him.

“I am, but you’re taking me so well, Princess”. Even his encouraging words had you mewling with quivers, wanting and needing more of him.

Leaning forward, you reached out to the other side of the wall, pushing off of it to help you ride his cock in the limited position that you had with the glory hole. Thankfully, Mr Fowler began to fuck the wall, so you were both thrusting into each other with increasing speed and strength. He seemed to fit you perfectly, stroking against all of those special nerves that built the tightening warmth in your core. Each time he pushed back inside of you was like a million exploding fireworks of pleasure to blossom throughout your body. You never wanted it to end.

As you tried to rise onto your tip toes to try and push back onto his harder, your pussy suddenly clamped down harder around him, like it was laying claim to him, holding him tightly and never wanting to let him go.

“Sir, oh my- I’m cumming, Sir, please don’t stop!”. You were thinking of nothing else but the cock pounding into your pussy, begging him with everything that you had for this orgasm to reach its peak.

“I can feel you, Sweetheart. So tight around my cock, you’re doing so well for me. Be a good girl and cum for me, and I’ll give you what you really want”.

Nick fucks the glory hole with even more enthusiasm as you are forced to have both hands against the opposite wall to push yourself even harder back against his cock. Your cunt was squeezing him so tightly he was nearly seeing stars as you finally came. Your knees wobbled as your walls spasmed in flutters through the orgasm, more fluid dripping down onto your thighs as you cried out for Mr Fowler.

He was shouting something as well, but you weren’t able to understand what it was he was saying as the faint, satisfied buzz filled your ears, and the edge of your orgasm began to calm. You were exhausted, but you didn’t stop fucking hard back against the cock until you were aware that there was thick, warm fluid seeping into your cunt as Nick’s thrusts stilled, his cum filling you completely.

It took all of your strength not to collapse to your knees as you both tried to recover from the fucking. As the softening cock slipped out, followed by a gush of cum was when you could finally fall back onto the pillow on the floor with a satisfied moan.

Being back in this position, you were able to watch through the hole as Nick began to tuck himself back into his suit, not even bothering to clean yours or his juices that gleamed over his length. Your cheeks warmed at this sight, knowing you’d remember it for the rest of your life.

Mr Fowler released a deep breath and reached into his back pockets, and once more, you wish you could see his face, but all you were able to see was his waistline and hands as they rummaged through his wallet and pulled out a hefty roll up of cash that he shoved through the hole and landed in your lap.

“This’ll cover any further tips you would have made for the remainder of the night. Which you can have off. Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll drive you home, Princess”.

[risustravelogue]

I think Wriothesley is foreign to the concept of weekends due to his position demanding him to be present at his office at all times so people can find him with ease. Heck, it looks like he sleeps in his office, on that cushy couch of his.

But when you and he become an item and your relationship progresses to a point where he thinks you'd be comfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with him, he realizes that hitting the hay in his office is no longer an option.

Unbeknownst to you, he actually has a bedroom in the nicest, quietest place in the Fortress with a big window looking into the ocean—he just never uses it because it's so far away to the point where it's more convenient to sleep in his couch. But he's determined to make you happy, so he orders a king-sized bed in secret and installs it himself (to the headache of the building maintenance guy who's in charge of that area). After it's done, he brings it up on a dinner date.

"Darling," he starts with an uncharacteristically hesitant tone gracing his voice. "Would you like to... sleep with me tonight?"

The last piece of baguette in your hand fails to meet your lips. "Sleep with you?" you ask. You avert your gaze shyly. "Um... you mean..."

"No," Wriothesley cuts. "No. I meant just that. Sleeping together in one bed. Just... cuddling to sleep or something." He sighs and takes your free hand into his. "I won't force you if you're not ready."

You squeeze his hand, your thumb caressing his gloved knuckles. "Well... to be honest, I've been thinking about it too," you admit, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "But I don't think the couch is a good place to do it."

A smug smile blooms on his lips. "Not to worry. I've installed a nice, big bed in my bedroom."

One of your eyebrows quirk up at the mention of a bedroom. "You... have a bedroom?"

"Of course I do. I just never thought of using it until you came along and stole my heart," he says with a smirk.

You smile at his flirting. "Hmm, the bedroom should thank me for bringing back its master."

"Sure, sure," he chuckles.

"All right. Let me finish my baguette first, Sir Duke," you tease. "Then you can show me how nice your bedroom is."

That night, you drift off to the first peaceful sleep you've had in years, huddled up under a warm blanket with your beloved's arms wrapped securely around your body.

© @risustravelogue 2023 • no to reposting, yes to reblogging. feel free to send an ask to suggest, chat, etc. :)

[harunayuuka2060]

Cater: Acey-kun~ What did you do to anger a whole dorm like that?

Ace: I don't know, Cater-senpai!

Riddle: Are you sure? Because even Leona-senpai was glaring at you.

Ace: ...

Deuce: It's because Ace said something stupid to Yuurin.

Deuce: About the hairpin.

Ace: I apologized already!

Trey: *laughs* Yes. I've seen that. But please don't do it again, Ace.

Trey: You don't want to mess with Leona.

Ace: Geez. He wasn't like this with Jack and Epel.

Riddle: You don't understand, Ace. If I have someone like Yuurin in Heartslabyul, I would be overprotective too.

Ace: Tch.

Cater: I'm not really familiar with this Yuurin, Riddle-kun.

Cater: What is he like?

Riddle: Oh, he's—

Riddle: You want to ride the horses?

Yuurin: Yes. Would it be possible, Housewarden Riddle?

Riddle: Hm. I can allow it, though do you have experience in riding one?

Yuurin: Yes. I took classes when I was little.

Riddle: I see. Well then, follow me.

Riddle: I suggest that you choose the most docile one for your own safety.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *points to a certain horse* How about that one?

Riddle: You can't. He's quite aggressive. He has already harmed multiple students because of his short-temper and attitude.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *approaches the horse's stall*

Riddle: Yuurin! What are you doing?!

Yuurin: *is having a staring contest with the horse*

The (aggressive) horse: *pricks his ears*

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *turns to look at Riddle with eagerness* I like him.

Riddle: ...

Random student: Are you sure about this, Sir Riddle?

Riddle: We'll just send him to infirmary if anything happens.

Yuurin: *riding the horse she picked*

Riddle: Yuurin! What are you planning to do now?

The horse: *whines, trotting in place*

Yuurin: Let's do a race.

Riddle: What?! It'll be dangerous for you!

Yuurin: I trust my horse.

Trey: So, did you end up having a race?

Riddle: Yes. He's not bad for a first-timer.

Cater: Does that mean he's a member of the Equestrian Club now?

Riddle: *sad frowns* No. He's still choosing. But I have given him permission to visit the horse whenever he wants to.

Ace: Y-You gave him special privilege?

Deuce: He hasn't chosen a club yet?

Ace, Trey, Riddle, and Cater: ...

Riddle: Deuce.

Deuce: D-Don't misunderstand, Housewarden Rosehearts! I have no plans in stealing Yuurin from the Equestrian Club!

Cater: Ah! By the way, Acey-kun! Isn't Jamil looking for a new member for the Basketball Club?

Ace: Huh? Y-Yeah... Why?

Cater: I'm sure Leona and the Savanaclaw students are still pissed about what you did, I think it will be an opportunity to be friends with Yuurin so they will forget entirely about the whole hairclip-bullying accusation. *smiles*

Riddle: That's a great idea, Cater.

Ace: ...

Ace: I-I'll try...

Ace: Please, Leona-senpai!

Leona: No. Yuurin is in the middle of training right now.

Leona: AND I HAVEN'T STILL FORGIVEN YOU.

Ace: ...

Ace: I'll just wait for him then.

Ace: What is he doing by the way— *his eyes widened*

Yuurin: *doing a triangle choke hold against an upperclassman*

Other students: *shouting* Yuurin! Don't let him create a space!

The upperclassman: I'm still... stronger than you, Yuurin!

Yuurin: !!!

Yuurin: *releases the grip around his neck, seizing hold of the trapped arm*

Yuurin: *with a swift adjustment, she transitions smoothly, securing the armbar position, applying pressure to his elbow*

The upperclassman: Ow! Ow! Stop! Stop!

Yuurin: *releases him*

The upperclassman: *groans* Ow...

Yuurin: Thank you so much for your assistance, senpai. *bows respectfully to him*

The upperclassman: Yeah... We'll do the defenses next.

The upperclassman: But let's do that after this week.

The upperclassman: I'm beat.

The other students: Great job, Yuurin!

Ace: ...

Leona: You still here?

Ace: Um... Wow.

Ace: Good thing we don't have a wrestling competition here.

Leona: There'll be one. *smirks* And I might invite you to compete.

Ace: Eh?! Please don't, Leona-senpai!

Yuurin and the rest of the Savanaclaw students: *looking at their direction*

Savanaclaw student A: Isn't that Ace Trappola from Heartslabyul?

Savanaclaw student B: What is that punk doing here?

Savanaclaw student C: Is he still making fun of you, Yuurin?

Yuurin: Oh. No. He already apologized.

Savanaclaw students: Good, good.

Savanaclaw students: Just beat him up like you did to us if he ever teases you again.

Yuurin: ...

Yuurin: *smiles*

Savanaclaw students: ...

Savanaclaw students: Our little sister is so cute. 🥺

[holylulusworld]

Election Time (1)

Summary: You thought he was your forever.

Pairing: Senator!Tony Stark x Wife!Reader, Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: heavy angst, language, wish for a child, betrayal, failed marriage, soft Bucky

Square filled for @buckybingo (expired): Square 7: Politics AU

Square filled for: @julybreakbingo (expired): Square 10: Betrayal fic

You force a smile on your face and nod politely. The reporters cannot know you’re about to throw up at the thought of smiling for six more years.

Tony promised his last election campaign would be the last one. He lied, as so often. Over the years, Tony pledged to you so many things.

A quieter life. The end of his political career after six long years of having a public relationship. Children.

Your husband didn’t keep his promises, and you still didn’t get pregnant even after months of trying. The reassurance from your doctor that you’re healthy and fertile did nothing to help you keep your hopes high.

“What’s the secret of your happy marriage?” An ambitious young reporter asks. She was smiling at Tony like a love-sick puppy the whole time, and now she tries to land a punch.

Rumors about your possible infertility and Tony flirting with his election campaign manager Pepper Potts spread by Tony’s concurrent didn’t make your life easier.

“Love and devotion,” Tony answers before you get the chance to respond. “Honesty and support.” He says it without missing a beat. Ever the perfect politician—or liar—depends on if you are a reporter or his wife.

Again, you nod and smile like a perfectly trained dog. Tony grabs your hand, raising your arm with his to strike a winner pose. You wince because he forgot about the injury on your shoulder. The one you got because he wanted to try a new sex position, only to drop you.

A pair of steel-blue eyes watch Tony and you. Your bodyguard squares his jaw, watching your face contort in pain. He pushes off the wall to whisper something in the head of the security's ear.

“Senator, we should head out now,” Steve, the head of security, looks at Tony. “Sir, we are running late.”

“Right,” Tony clears his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he flashes everyone a stunning smile, “thank you for coming. I hope you vote for the right man in four weeks.”

Applause follows. It always does. Tony Stark is the kind of man drawing people in like the flame draws in the moth.

He finally drops his arm, releasing your hand. You struggle to keep a straight face and not wince again. Hiding your pain, you take deep breaths when someone holds out his hand. Bucky, your bodyguard, helps you down the tribune.

Tony is already chatting up Steve to make sure he checks every spot at the orphanage. As if anyone would try to attack your husband while he shakes the hands of some kids.

“Mrs. Senator,” Bucky chuckles when you make a face at his nickname for you. “Do you want to take the same car?”

“Not today. Tony wants to discuss his campaign with Pepper,” you shrug. It’s not unusual for you and Tony to drive in separate cars. “I can use the break, to be honest.”

“You shoulder,” Bucky softly says. He carefully touches your shoulder. “I’ve got something in the trunk to help you with that. It helps me with the scar tissue at my shoulder, too.”

“Always prepared, aren’t you?” you flash Bucky the first genuine smile. “Let’s go, Dozer.”

“That name again,” he laughs as he guides you out of the back of the building. Tony prefers to use the front entrance to bathe in applause and to give autographs. You are, as always, only an accessory to him. He forgot about you the moment he left the town.

Inside the car, you sigh deeply. It’s the first time you can breathe today. You close your eyes and take deep breaths while Bucky rubs pain gel into your skin. He kneads out the knots and kinks in your shoulders and neck.

“Hmm…you’ve got magic hands, Dozer.”

“I only ran through a door once, Y/N,” Bucky chides. “If I remember right, it was because you screamed.”

“It was a huge spider, Bucky,” you giggle when he grunts. “You threatened to shoot it.”

“I did shoot it,” he corrects while gently rubbing your skin. “You applauded and got me ice cream.”

“You saved me that day.” You smile to yourself. “And many more times since then. Not with your gun, but because you’re always there for me.”

“That’s my job.” He says, making it sound so nonchalantly. As if he doesn’t risk his life to protect you every day.

“Hmm,” you nod. “I should call Tony. He wanted to tell me which outfit to wear for the kids.”

Bucky makes a face but doesn’t say a thing. He watches you button up your blouse and presses his lips into a thin line. Bucky would never tell you so, but he despises your husband and the way he treats you.

“Tons, hey,” you huff when Tony mutters into the phone. He wanted you to call him, only to tell you he must talk to Pepper first. “Fine, just call me if you’re done.”

You drop your phone onto the seat and sigh deeply. Bucky grabs the phone to end the call when you hear Pepper’s voice. Tony must’ve forgotten to turn off the loudspeaker.

“So, are you still as happy as you pretend you are?” She asks, making you frown. How dare that woman ask your husband this kind of question? “Tony, look at me.”

“I’m just trying to keep up the façade until past the election. We are over for months, if not a year,” he casually says while your world shatters. Your eyes widen, and you press your hand to your mouth when you choke out a sob.

Bucky wants to end the call, but you shake your head. You opened Pandora’s box, and now you want to hear everything.

“I heard you’re trying for a baby.” She presses on, making you wince when Tony tells her he never planned on having a baby. It would only distract him from his goal to become president one day. “How did you not get her pregnant if you’re trying for a baby?” She huffs.

“I talked her doctor into prescribing her birth control, but to tell her that it’s vitamins,” Tony reveals. All those months you believed it was your fault you could not get pregnant. Now you know why you didn’t get pregnant. Tony manipulated your plans out of selfishness.

Tears roll down your face when Bucky brings you into his arm to let you cry into his chest. You whimper and choke out a sob, hearing Tony talk casually about his betrayal. You know your marriage got rocky lately, but this is no reason to lie to you.

Bucky ends the call. He doesn’t want you to hear more of their conversation.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks lowly. “Y/N? Where do you want to go? I hope you don’t plan on attending that shitshow.”

“I… I don’t know,” you sniffle. “All I know is that I can’t go home. I can never go home again."

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny: First official chapter

The busy hospital was on its last leg. Nurses and interns were scattered, running around like mice.

Sounds of trauma care patients and emergency care patients alarms were constantly ringing.

In the midst of it all, one calm collected doctor cared tenderly for each patient.

He, was Danny Fenton, who used to be known for having two crazy ghost enthusiasts for parents. He still loved his parents despite how hard it was growing up as half ghost.

Jazz had told them a long time ago and they had ignored it for the most part. Like that side of him didn't exist.

It had hurt at the time but Danny had managed to move past it. After successfully securing his position as ghost king (on accident) he put his newfound authority to good use making the ghosts swear a vow to behave.

A ghost vow is a big deal, which is why Danny swore a vow in return acknowledging them, if ever a ghost were in danger he would help them.

After the lack of ghost attacks Danny found he had next to nothing to do. His only hobby outside of playing video games had been ghost fighting. He hadn't realized how used to it he had gotten.

Danny hadn't even picked the college he wanted to go to yet.

Danny approached the Nasty Burger, his last refuge.

That's when he noticed a man who seemed a little out of it. The man stumbled making Danny wonder if he was drunk.

Danny turned to go inside when the man collapsed. Danny rushed over to the man and rolled him on his back. He checked for a pulse but couldn't find one.

Of course he wasn't exactly medically trained.

Danny dialed nine-one-one and started to perform CPR as best he could.

He explained to the operator clearly the situation and the ambulance came in no time.

Later that night Danny was processing the events in his head and instead of feeling scared or nervous he felt excited.

He was thrilled to have something to get his blood pumping again. Which is why he applied for med school. He studied hard, using all the time he had to memorize all the medical information that he could.

After graduation he interned at Amity Parks local hospital before moving up his position to resident.

Only a week after getting his new position he was forced to leave the hospital. It was closing because of a lack of funding.

"Please sir! What about the staff or the patients?"

The head of the medical board shook his head.

"Dr. Fenton, this hospital runs on little to nothing to begin with, we are lucky to have even made it this far. The patients will be transfered and the staff, relocated"

Danny furrowed his brows in concern.

"Don't worry Dr. Fenton, your quite literally the best we've seen walk these halls, your sure to get a good recommendation"

Danny clenched his fist.

"What are my options?" He asked.

The board looked at his sheet, flipping several until he found the right one on his clipboard.

"You said you wanted to work at a busy hospital right?"

Danny nodded yes.

"There aren't too many around here, the busiest hospital I can think of belongs to a crime ridden city a bit far  from here." He said.

"Gotham City"

Danny's breath hitched. He had heard about Gotham before. It was notorious for its villains.

Despite that, it was alluring.

"There! Send me to Gothams hospital!" He said suddenly and eagerly.

"Okay, if you say so. Do us all a favor and survive alright"

Danny laughed, "sure, I'll do my best. No promises though"

Just like that Danny packed up moved to Gotham.

He had little time to research Gotham before hand but he had heard several mutters in passing of a place called Crime Alley, a strange nickname for sure.

Danny was sure that this place would either be completely clean due to police intervention or incredibly overrun.

Danny signed a lease at the Shirley Apartments.

"Are you sure about this young man" the desk lady asked him.

He smiled kindly.

"Yes I am, I've heard the rumors and have weighed the risk. In the end it might be helpful to know just how my patients love to receive the injuries they do"

The lady sighed.

"That's right, you said your a doctor. Be careful out there, any talent in Gotham is either warped by a villain or destroyed"

Danny was a little startled by the warning, apparently there was even more to Gotham than he knew.

"I'm sorry I forgot to ask for your name"

"Didn't give one, in Gotham it's best to remain anonymous"

Danny blinked a little surprised.

"It's that dangerous, well I'll take your word for it then, thank you miss" he said as he took the key from her.

He had been able to store the old car his dad had given to him in a locked garage. He wasn't sure how well it would hold up but there was only so much he could do against humans.

Ghost powers had little, of any, effect on humans when it came to offense. Defensively they were pretty great to have.

He had only brought five boxes with him, no furniture. Back in Amity he had been busy studying and had brushed aside buying furniture.

Unfortunately that meant he had no bed.

Danny was glad to have found a beaten up wardrobe. It was missing it's doors and was leaning to the side, even so Danny was able to fix it and hang his clothes up in it.

He grabbed one of the boxes and smiled warmly when he saw a Fenton Emergency pack inside.

His mom must've stuffed it there when he was looking, lucky for him it had a sleeping bag.

An air mattress would've been nice too, but it's the thought that counts.

Danny safely stored his two favorite pictures. One of him with his family and one with his friends.

They were hidden just in case someone decided to break in, not that there would be much to find anyway but it never hurt to be careful.

Danny went to sleep soon after despite the sounds of the city.

Danny woke up feeling refreshed. He grabbed his bags and hopped in his car.

Danny hadn't realized how busy Gothams hospital actually was. Danny pulled into Gotham General and as soon as he was in his scrubs and coat he was dragged into the frey.

"We need a doctor over here!" Someone called just as Danny had finished with a patient.

Despite having to run around all day Danny wasn't tired, his ghost half supplied him energy after his human side ran dry.

All in all Danny first day on the job was hectic and he had worked for fourteen hours.

Once he was back in his apartment Danny set up a table that he had pre ordered online.

Then he got to work. According to his knowledge, most of his patients had suffered from some kind of attack or other.

Most of the heavy hitters were villains named Joker, Penguin and two face.

The riddler was taken care of, Poison Ivy had been rehabilitated and Harley Quinn had broken free from Jokers choke hold on her.

There was also the less obvious villains, like the business man lex Luther.

Lex Luther was shady at best, while no one could get hard evidence on him most people knew to be wary.

But just being informed didn't stop them from falling into his traps.

Lately Bruce had done official business with Lex Luther, which made him a suspicious person whom Danny had decided to keep tabs on, he was wary of the rich and for good reasons.

The cork board above Danny table has a litter of documents and pictured pined by red string. The players who were out of the game were crossed off.

Then there were the vigilantes. A few of them had been known to be rough, a necessary violence.

Still they seemed to have little awareness of what their little battles did to other people. Because many people came in for minor injuries due to being caught in the crossfire.

Which meant Danny had to find a way to keep everybody in line so patients would decrease in number. Danny let himself sleep for four hours before returning to the hospital.

"Oh my gosh, Doctor Fenton is still here" one nurse whispered. It had been a full day and half, Danny was running on his ghost half that seemed to keep replenishing itself due to the toxic air of Gotham. A positive side effect.

"How does he never get tired?"

"Maybe he's superhuman" one girl cracked. They noticed as he rushed by them to get to another patient.

"He's quite handsome too" one said wistfully, "but who wants a husband that works all the time"

Danny noticed the next patient seemed tense and he kept screaming for his daughter.

Danny whispered in the man's ear and put a hand on his forehead. He had used a ghost technique he learned from Nocturne and the man calmed down.

The other doctors were impressed as they worked to care for the man's injuries.

Finally the head of the unit noticed Danny and after reviewing his chart had forced him to go home.

"I don't feel fatigued at all sir, I promise I am not compromised. I can care for the patients"

The head wasn't having any of it.

"Above all your health is just as important as the patients we care for. For them to get healthy, you have to be healthy. Go home Dr.Fenton, you can come back after you get at least ten hours of sleep."

Danny wanted to argue but he knew the head was right.

"Yes sir" he said before changing into civilian clothes and leaving the hospital.

Now that he was out of a hospital setting things like hunger started to appear.

Maybe he had been to focused to notice how hungry he had been.

Danny blearily noticed a fast food place. His instincts told him the food would be greasy and way too unhealthy.

Mmm, comfort food.

The nostalgia fought with his doctoral instincts and won. All Danny wanted was to sit in a booth and eat some greasy food.

Danny ordered the double cheeseburger with bacon with a side of ten pieces chicken nuggets and large order of fries.

Waiting, even for five minutes, was starting to make Danny ravenous. As soon as he got his food he sat down and started gorging himself.

It was pretty good food for a little fast food place in the world's worst city.

Danny liked the tenderness and crispiness of the burger, the cheese was melted just right too.

Danny dipped his nuggets in sweet n' sour sauce while fighting the urge to kick his legs like a happy little kid.

As Danny left the restraint he saw an alert on his phone for a villain attack and rushed to the scene.

To his satisfaction the culprits were already being hauled away in police custody. They were just small fries, not of them appeared connected to a big player, so Danny was free to shut them out of his mind.

Which is exactly what he did. Danny drove back to his apartment and let out a sigh of relief.

That's when he noticed his door was slightly ajar.

His guard was up immediately. Danny stepped inside cautiously. He was relieved when everything appeared untouched but the scare had sent him a trip to get stronger locks.

On his way back to his car from the store he heard sound of a glass bottle breaking in a nearby alley. It was small alley, from what Danny could tell it was also a dead end alley.

Taking a risk Danny stepped in and chills went down his spine when he heard labored breathing.

Danny rushed over and froze at what he saw.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 7: Apollo, God Of Music]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 8.7k

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“My uncle, he is a doctor in Zabrze,” Ludwika says, red Yardley lips, Camel cigarette. No one cares if she smokes; she’s not campaigning to be the next first lady. Fosco is puffing on a cigar. Mimi sips drowsily at her Gimlet; you could use a few shots, but you’re making do with a Pink Squirrel, something sweet and feminine and without any bite. “So I go to him and he gives me a bottle of chlordiazepoxide.”

“Oh, Librium,” Mimi says, perking up.

Ludwika waves her hand dismissively; cigarette smoke wafts through the air. “Whatever. The next day I have my audition. A tiny man who thinks he’s God. And I give it a real shot, I try my best, I’m nice, I’m charming, but he doesn’t like me. He says my teeth are too big, like a mouse’s. This is very rude. I did not comment on his fidgety little rat hands. But okay, no problem, I have a plan. No one will stop me from getting out of Poland.”

“You drugged him?” you ask, incredulous, grinning.

“You are a criminal,” Fosco tells Ludwika. “I will call J. Edgar Hoover, you should not be so close to positions of power.”

“Listen, listen,” Ludwika insists. “Here is what I do. I thank him very much for his consideration, and then as I leave I drop my purse and things go everywhere. I filled it before I left my apartment, of course. Anything I could find, empty lipstick tubes and perfume bottles, old makeup compacts with broken mirrors, coins, hair pins, tissues, pens, gum, Krówki candies, it is an avalanche. And when he bends down to help me pick up the mess—I have to encourage him, ‘oh sir won’t you grab that, I am just a stupid girl in a very short dress,’ you understand—I put the pills in his tea.”

“How many pills?” you ask.

“I don’t know. You think I had time to count? Maybe seven.”

“Seven?!” Mimi exclaims, and you take this to mean it was a generous dose.

“What? He did not die,” Ludwika says. “I wait two days and then I go back to his office. And it is so strange, can you believe it, he does not remember my audition! So I remind him that he thought I would be perfect for the ad he is shooting in Paris. He keeps squinting at me and saying ‘are you sure, are you sure?!’ Of course I’m sure! A week later, I am standing under the Eiffel Tower with a bottle of Coca-Cola. And then I book a job in London, and then another in New York City, and one of my new model friends sets me up on a blind date with Otto. Lunch in Astoria at a horrible Greek restaurant. Who wants to eat pie made out of spinach?! Now I am here with you people, and the journalists love when I smile for them with my big mouse teeth.”

All four of you laugh at your table, an elite club, the ones who married in. It’s Alicent’s 60th birthday, and the ballroom of the Texas State Hotel in downtown Houston is raucous with clinking glasses and chatter and music and the shutter clicks of photographers. The DJ is playing Fun, Fun, Fun by the Beach Boys. Alicent is dancing with Helaena and the children, and it’s the happiest you can ever remember seeing her. Otto, Aemond, and Sargent Shriver are deep in conversation by the bar, furrowed brows and Old Fashioneds, today’s newspapers and tomorrow’s itinerary. Criston is standing with the men but watching Alicent, face wistful, silver streaks in his jet black hair, and it occurs to you that they must have grown up together: Alicent a 19-year-old bride and Criston her husband’s fledgling bodyguard, the person closest to her age in the household, near and trusted and forbidden, orbiting adolescent twins like Artemis and Apollo. You keep looking around for Aegon. No one else seems aware that he’s gone.

“Otto thought he died and went to heaven when he found you,” you tell Ludwika. “His Eastern Bloc defector princess.”

“He is going to bring my mother to the States. I would be anything he wanted me to be. I would be a model, or a housewife, or a nurse. I would be Bigfoot! But this…” Ludwika gestures broadly: to the ballroom, the city, the latest stop on the campaign trail. “It is not so bad. I never expected to serve the Polish people so far from home. You know how you stop communism? You show the world that capitalism can do more for them. There must be a path to a better life, wars must be ended, injustices must be dealt with. Aemond will do that.” She grins at you, exhaling smoke through her nostrils. “You will help him.”

You reply a bit wryly: “It’s an honor.”

“We are like four legs of a table,” Fosco observes. He points at Ludwika with his smoldering cigar. “You are a Slav fleeing the Russians. My family has ancient titles in Italy and yet no castles, no land, we are essentially homeless. Mimi’s father is a third-generation oil tycoon from Pennsylvania. And she was supposed to fix Aegon.”

“I don’t think I succeeded,” Mimi confesses.

“And then when it was time for Aemond to get married…” Fosco turns to Mimi. “Do you remember? What an ordeal. The discussions went on and on and on. She must be smart, she must be sinless, she should be from a self-made family, a real rags-to-riches story of the American Dream.”

“Right.” Mimi nods groggily, reminiscing. “And from the South.”

“Yes! But not the Deep South. No, no. Someplace Aemond could actually win. Texas, Tennessee, North Carolina. Or Florida, of course.” Now Fosco notices how you’re looking at him, because you’ve never heard this before. He quickly pivots. “But the weekend Aemond met you, it was settled. Nobody could compare.”

His tone is odd; it suggests backstories, history, mythology. Ludwika appears to be just as intrigued as you are, taking a drag off her Camel, her eyes narrowing until they are thin and catlike. You ask: “Who else was being considered?”

“No one,” Fosco answers—too quickly—and he and Mimi exchange an uneasy glance.

What did Aemond and I talk about the night we met? you think dizzily. In those first hours, minutes, thirty seconds? Where I’m from. What I was studying.

Fosco, a true Italian, then attempts to deflect by flirting. He makes emphatic, passionate motions with his hands. “You were just so captivating, so clever…”

“And young enough that Aemond could easily beat Aegon’s record of five children,” Mimi adds. Fosco clears his throat and glares at her. Mimi realizes what she’s said and gazes forlornly down into her Gimlet, mortified, groaning softly. You’ve had one c-section already, and no living son to show for it. At most, you might be able to give Aemond two or three more children; and you don’t even want them. You want Ari back. You want to touch him, to hold him, even if only for a moment, even if only once.

“It’s fine,” you try to reassure Mimi, but everyone can tell it’s not.

Ludwika breaks the tension. “You do not want twenty kids anyway. Your uterus will fall out onto the floor.” And you’re so caught off-guard that all you can do is smile at her from across the table, knowing, appreciative. It’s a strange thing to be grateful for.

“She’s right,” Mimi says mournfully. “They had to sew mine back in.”

Fosco pleads: “Stop, stop, I will need a lobotomy.”

Mimi slurps on her Gimlet. “It’s sad. I used to love sex.”

“Mimi, please,” Fosco says, wincing, holding up his palms. “You are like my sister. I prefer to think you are the Virgin Mary.”

Ludwika sighs dramatically and looks to where Otto stands on the other side of the ballroom. “I used to love sex too.”

Now you’re all howling again, rocking back in your chairs. The DJ is playing Go Where You Wanna Go by the Mamas and the Papas. Cass Elliot is the real talent in that group and everybody knows it, but of course any mention of her must be dutifully accompanied by: If only she was more beautiful. If only she could lose weight and find a husband.

“I think you like it, yes?” Ludwika says to you like a dare, puffing on a fresh Camel, red lipstick staining the white paper, blood on sheets. She combs her manicured fingernails though her voluminous blonde hair. “I could tell when I met you. You dress like Jackie Kennedy, but you are not such a statue. She belongs in a museum. I can imagine you at the Summer of Love.”

Fosco and Mimi shift uncomfortably. It’s not the sort of thing they would ever ask you. It’s too personal, too easily a segue into criticizing Aemond. It’s a usurpation of the natural order. Mimi guzzles her Gimlet and flags down a waiter to get another. Fosco takes off his glasses and cleans them with his skinny black necktie.

Sex. You think back to before you began to dread it. This is difficult, like trying to remember Greek words or British manners, which fork to use with each course. Memories from another lifetime come back in flashes: tangled up with your first boyfriend in his tiny dorm room bed, Aemond peeling off your still-dripping swimsuit on the floor of your hotel room during your honeymoon in Hawaii. You shrug and give Ludwika a nod, a brisk, ungenerous answer in the affirmative. “I always feel like I could keep going.”

Paradoxically, this does not end the conversation. Ludwika, Fosco, and Mimi study you with the same bewildered, gear-spinning curiosity. After a moment Ludwika says: “Not after you’ve finished, surely. I am half dead by the end if it’s good.”

“Finished?” you ask, puzzled. All three of them gawk at you, then at each other.

Aegon breezes into the ballroom wearing the Gibson guitar he bought in Manhattan, blue like the Caribbean or the Mediterranean or the crystalline waves off the coast of Hawaii, dotted with fish and sea turtles. Your eyes go to him immediately and stay there; you can feel the swirling warmth of blood in your cheeks. As Aegon passes the table, he squeezes your shoulder—brief, familiar, welcome—and Fosco raises his thick eyebrows. Mimi is too busy gulping down her Gimlet to notice. Ludwika chuckles, low and wicked, then slides a makeup compact out of her Prada purse to check her lipstick. Aegon goes to the DJ and yells something over the music. He’s fucked up already, you can tell, pills or booze or both.

Fosco stops a passing waiter. “Signore, did you hear who won the United Nations Handicap?”

The waiter stares blankly back at him. “What?”

“The turf race at Monmouth Park. I have $200 on Dr. Fager.”

The DJ abruptly cuts off the music. Aegon gives his guitar a few practice strums to make sure it’s in tune. He stumbles when he walks, he lurches and sways. His blonde hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He is woefully underdressed. His white shirt is half-unbuttoned, his denim shorts tattered; on his feet he wears black moccasins. There is a small gold hoop in each of his ears. Otto keeps telling Aegon to take them out, and every time Aegon ignores him.

“Happy birthday, Mom,” you hear him say to Alicent, and she presses a palm to her heart, her dark eyes wide and shining. “When I first heard this, it made me think of you.”

Otto and Sargent Shriver—the aspiring vice president—are glowering at Aegon. Aemond smirks as he nips at an Old Fashioned, amused; but he makes sharp, intentional eye contact with each of the three journalists. You will tell the right version of this story, he means. You will not print anything we wouldn’t want written, or my family will be your enemies for life.

As soon as Aegon plucks the first few chords, you recognize the song. “Oh, that’s really funny.”

“What?” Fosco asks.

“It’s Mama Tried.” You stand and begin clapping, then motion for the rest of the table to do the same. They obey without protest, though Mimi can’t seem to keep track of the beat. Aegon is beaming as he sings.

“The first thing I remember knowin’

Was a lonesome whistle blowin’

And a youngin’s dream of growin’ up to ride

On a freight train leavin’ town

Not knowin’ where I'm bound

And no one could change my mind but Mama tried.”

Cosmo sprints over from where he had been dancing with Alicent. He grabs your hand and tugs you towards the center of the floor. “Let’s go, let’s go!” he shouts impatiently.

“Call the FBI, I’m being kidnapped,” you say to Fosco and Ludwika as you let Cosmo drag you away.

“One and only rebel child

From a family meek and mild

My Mama seemed to know what lay in store

Despite all my Sunday learnin’

Towards the bad I kept on turnin’

‘Til Mama couldn’t hold me anymore.”

At the heart of the ballroom, Criston has swooped in to dance with Alicent, slow chaste circling. Helaena has floated off to the bar to chat with Otto, who keeps all his smiles for her. The children—Targaryens and Shrivers alike—are stomping and cheering and alternating between various moves: the Mashed Potato, the Twist, the Swim, the Loco-Motion, the Watusi, the Pony in pairs. Aemond whistles to a photographer and then nods to where you are holding onto one of Cosmo’s tiny hands as he spins around at lawless, breakneck speed. Of course this would make for a good image: you being maternal, you promising the American people that they will one day have not only a first lady but a first family.

“And I turned 21 in prison doin’ life without parole

No one could steer me right but Mama tried, Mama tried

Mama tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied

That leaves only me to blame ‘cause Mama tried.”

Cameras flash and the crowd keeps clapping. Cosmo giggles wildly each time he almost falls and you pull him back to his feet. There is a hand skimming around your waist, a listless powder blue dress your husband chose for you. Aemond replaces Cosmo as your dance partner. Aegon’s 10-year-old daughter Violeta spirits Cosmo away; Aemond reels you in close, one palm pressed into the small of your back, his left hand gripping your right. When you steal a glimpse of Aegon—still strumming, still singing—he doesn’t look so triumphant anymore. His grin is frozen and artificial. His drunk muddy eyes go steely.

“I need you to do something for me,” Aemond begins.

Of course, you once would have said. Anything. “What is it?”

“I want you to cut your hair like Jackie.”

You’re so stunned your feet stop moving. Aemond coaxes you back into the steps. “No.”

“Think about how much more versatile it would be. Jackie is an icon, she’s sophisticated, she’s mature.”

“If you wanted a wife in her thirties, you could have easily found one.”

“Honey—”

“I do everything you ask,” you say, barely more than a whisper. “Everything. I wear what you want me to. I go where you want me to. I spend ten hours a week getting my hair fixed. I keep it up, I keep it presentable. But I’m not chopping it off.”

“You’re never going to be able to wear it down anyway,” Aemond counters, so calm, so rational, like your skull is nothing but incendiary feminine mania. “If I win, you’ll be surrounded by staff and journalists for years. You can’t be photographed with it down, you look about eighteen. And like you live on a park bench in Haight-Ashbury.”

“It’s my hair. I’m keeping it.”

Aemond leans in and says, cold and severe: “You’re my wife, and everything that’s yours belongs to me.” Then he kisses your cheek as cameras click and strobe. “Think about it. Now smile.”

You force yourself to. The crowd applauds as Aegon finishes singing and flees the dancefloor. The DJ puts on Light My Fire by The Doors. You and Aemond leave in opposite directions: he goes to talk to Eunice Kennedy, who is hugging her 3-year-old son Anthony to her chest; you return to your table to drain the last of your Pink Squirrel. You need something stronger. You need to be alone so you can collect yourself.

Now Aegon has shed his guitar and is standing with his back to the wall, smoking a Lucky Strike and talking to some campaign staffer—she looks like a girl, but she’s probably your age—who is gazing up at him worshipfully. She says something that makes him laugh, his head thrown back, his eyes sparkling, and you feel like you’re waking up from your c-section all over again, your belly split open and rearranged, aching, stabbing, nauseous.

“Are you okay?” Ludwika asks, scrutinizing you.

“I’m perfect. I’ll be right back.”

You hurry out of the ballroom, the music fading behind you. You slip into one of the elevators in the lobby and hit the button for the top floor, where Aemond’s entourage has booked every suite. As the door is closing—as only a foot of space remains—Aegon shoves his way into the elevator, startling you. The door shuts behind him and you begin the ascent. Aegon slams the red emergency stop button, and the elevator jolts to a halt.

“What the hell are you doing—?!”

“What pissed you off, huh?” Aegon taunts, stepping closer. You back away from him until you run out of room; not because you want the distance, but because you’re afraid of what you’ll do if it’s gone.

“Nothing. I’m so great, I’ve never been better, can’t you tell?”

He’s so close you can feel the heat rising off his flushed skin, you can see the miles-deep murky blue of his irises, open water, shipwrecks and drowning. “You want all this to be over? You want the women with their big, adoring eyes and their short skirts to disappear? Grow up. Stop acting like a kid. Ask for it.”

“Ask for what?”

“You know.”

If you touch him now, you won’t be able to stop. There’s nowhere for us to go. There’s no way out of this family, this year, this world. “I don’t. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Aegon barks out a sardonic, cutting laugh. “Yeah, you’re definitely 23.”

“I thought you loved girls young enough to be your daughters. Isn’t that what gets you hard?”

“You’re a fucking coward.”

“You’re sweating on me, you pig.”

“You want it so bad,” Aegon whispers as he presses himself against you, his ribs and thighs and hips, and you clutch for the walls of the elevator so you don’t reach for him instead. His left hand is tearing your hair out of its clips and pins so it falls free like you used to wear it; the right is all over your face, your jaw, your chin, your cheeks, touching you ceaselessly, ravenously, a blind man reading chronicles of braille. You’re trying to turn away from him, but he keeps pulling you back in. You’re breathing his rum and nicotine, you’re gasping in low, starved moans. It might be more intimate than kissing, than sex. He’s already felt your body. What he asks for now is your soul. His words are warm and aching as he murmurs through loosed strands of your hair: “Tell me you want it, please, just tell me, just tell me, tell me and it’s yours.”

Your palms land on his bare, damp chest, and Aegon starts unfastening the last buttons of his shirt. Instead, you push him away. Aegon lets you. He surrenders. “I can’t,” you choke out. You hit the red button, and the elevator resumes its rise to the top floor of the hotel.

“I’m really fucked up right now,” he says with sudden realization, swaying, staring down at his feet like he fears he’ll lose track of them.

“I’m aware.”

“I’m sorry. I think…I think I wanted that to happen differently.”

“I can’t trust you when you’re like this,” you say. I feel like I can’t trust anyone. Aegon looks up at you, his glassy eyes large and wounded. When the elevator door opens, you step out and he stays in, riding it back to the lobby.

In the suite you share with Aemond, you turn on the radio and spin the dial until you find a Loretta Lynn song. You go to the minibar cabinet and down two tiny glass bottles of vodka, something that won’t make you smell like too much of a drunk. You’ll have to fix your hair before you go back to the ballroom; you’ll have to change your dress. You’re painted with Aegon’s sweat and smoke. You can’t risk your husband noticing. You slide open the top drawer of the nightstand on your side of the bed and take out the card you keep there, the one that travels with you to each stop on the campaign trail. Loretta Lynn croons from the radio, wronged and wrathful.

“If you don’t wanna go to Fist City

You’d better detour around my town

‘Cause I’ll grab you by the hair of your head

And I’ll lift you off of the ground

I'm not a-sayin’ my baby is a saint, ‘cause he ain’t

And that he won’t cat around with a kitty

I’m here to tell you, gal, to lay off of my man

If you don’t wanna go to Fist City.”

You lie on the floor and peer up at the card in your hands: jubilant cartoon cow, festive party hat. You know exactly what’s written on the inside; it’s etched into your memory like myths passed down through millennia. Nevertheless, you read it again. The original message is still crossed out, and there’s an addendum below it in hasty black ink: I thought this was blank…congrats on the new calf!

You graze your thumbprint across Aegon’s scrawled signature. It’s smudged now. You do this a lot. One day his name might disappear altogether from the stark white parchment, from memory.

You close the card and hug it to your chest like a mother holds a living child.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s going on between you and Aegon?”

Alarmed, you meet Aemond’s gaze, two reflections in the vanity mirror. It’s the next morning, and you’re finishing up your makeup. Your dress and jacket are striped with black and white, your jewelry is silver, chains on your wrists and small tasteful hoops in your ears. “Nothing.” There is a lull you have to fill before it becomes suspicious. “He’s been helpful, he’s been…you know. Ever since Mount Sinai.”

Aemond adjusts his cerulean blue tie, studying himself in the mirror. He’s still wearing his leather eyepatch. Putting in his glass eye is the last thing he does before leaving the suite each day. “He was a comfort to you.”

“Well, he was there.”

“Because I told him to be,” Aemond says, resting his hands on the back of your chair. “Someone had to stay at Asteria to keep tabs on things, to let me know what you were up to. Aegon was the most expendable. Mimi and the kids make for good photos, but Aegon…he’s not especially endearing to the public. Those few years as the mayor of Trenton just about ruined him. I’d love to make him the attorney general if I win, but I don’t think the people would stomach it. Maybe if he behaves himself he can have the job for my second term.”

Eight years, you think, unable to fathom it. Eight years in a fishbowl. Eight years lying under Aemond as he tries to get me pregnant with children neither of us can love.

Aemond leans down to touch his lips to the side of your throat. “I’m glad you’re finally friends,” he says. “Aegon’s not all bad. But don’t let him get you in trouble.”

“I wouldn’t.” What did you and Aemond talk about before Ari died? What was this marriage built on? The senate, the presidency, civil rights, poverty, the Space Race, Vietnam, Greek mythology. Everything but each other. Dreams and ideals that would dwarf any mortal, would render them invisible.

“And watch out for any reporters from the Wall Street Journal. They’d kill for Nixon. If they can twist your words, they will.” He gets something from inside his own nightstand: the bloodstained komboskini from when he was shot in Palm Beach. He places it in your right hand, all 100 knots. “Give this to someone today. You know how to do it, you’ve always understood this part. Pick the right person, the right moment. Make sure there are plenty of cameras around.”

“Where am I going? Lunch with the mayor’s wife, that’s this afternoon, isn’t it?”

Aemond nods. “And a few other stops. Then we’re going to the Alamo in San Antonio tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

He recoils, reaches for the left half of his face, kneads the scar tissue there as nerve pain radiates through his flesh all the way down to the bone. Once you felt such agonizing pity for him; now all you can think about is the matching scar you wear on your belly, hidden and shameful and a badge of your inadequacies: your body too weak to protect Ari, your mind too pliable to resist being ensnared by the crushing gravity of this man, this family, this life.

“How can I help?” you ask Aemond, because it’s the right thing to do. And randomly, you find yourself remembering the statue of Apollo in Helaena’s garden back at Asteria, the god of music, healing, truth, prophesy.

“You can’t.” Aemond goes to the bathroom to force his glass eye into its socket. You depart for the hotel lobby where Ludwika and Mimi, your companions for the day, are already waiting. Ludwika is wearing a rose pink Chanel skirt suit. Mimi—relatively functional, as she hasn’t been awake long enough to ruin herself yet—is dressed in delicate dove grey.

Alicent, Helaena, and the children are scheduled to tour a local high school and library; Criston, unsurprisingly, is going with them. Aemond, accompanied by Otto, has a series of meetings with local business leaders and politicians. Aegon and Fosco are headed to the Michael E. DeBakey Veterans Affairs Medical Center to promise maimed soldiers that Aemond will end the war that carved out bits of them and filled the voids with screaming nightmares. The limousine you share with Ludwika and Mimi ferries you first to the NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Center. Mimi is entranced by the reflective surface of the helmets, coated with gold to divert blinding sunbeams; in turn, the astronauts are entranced by Ludwika, who leaves lipstick smudges on their cheeks when she kisses them. Next is a tea party hosted by Iola Faye Cure Welch, the mayoress of Houston since 1964 and the mother of five children. And as you nibble daintily at triangle-shaped sandwiches and trudge through small talk about flowers and furniture, you can’t stop smiling. You can’t stop thinking about how ridiculous Aegon would think this is if he was here.

The driver mentions one last stop, then coasts through midafternoon traffic towards the city center. You spend the ride touching up your hair and makeup. Ludwika offers to let you borrow her seduction-red lipstick; you politely decline. You step out of the limo and shield your eyes from the glare of the Texas sun. It takes your vision a moment to adjust, and then you realize where you are. The sign above the main entranceway reads: Houston Methodist Hospital. The air snags in your throat, your lungs are empty. Your hands tremble violently. The earth rocks beneath your white high heels. Mount Sinai is the last hospital you walked into, and you left with your son in a casket so small it could have been mistaken for a shoebox.

“Alright, let’s go,” Ludwika says, linking an arm through yours. Mimi, badly in need of a drink, is looking deflated and edgy. “We are almost done. And I have been promised a medium-rare steak for dinner! Mushrooms and onions too! The Statue of Liberty did not lie. This country is a golden door.”

“I can’t.”

Ludwika stares at you. “What?”

“I can’t, I can’t go in there.”

“What is she talking about?” Ludwika asks Mimi, who shakes her head, mystified.

“I can’t,” you whimper.

They’ve never seen you like this. They don’t know what to do. They listen to you, that is the hierarchy; but it’s too late to change course now. Journalists are approaching in a swarm. Nurses and doctors are gathering by the front door to welcome you.

He knew, you think, suddenly furious. Aemond knew, and he didn’t tell me.

“It will be okay,” Ludwika says, patting your back awkwardly. “We are here with you. Nothing bad will happen.”

“Oh,” Mimi breathes, understanding. She looks at you with sympathy that shimmers on the surface of the opaque, polluted lake of her mind. Then she catches Ludwika’s eye and skims a hand down her own slim midsection. Ari, she mouths, and Ludwika’s face falls.

The doctors and nurses are whistling and applauding; the journalists are snapping photos and scrounging for quotes. You feel your conditioning over the past two years taking over: straight posture, gentle smile, hands clasped demurely together. But you are locked away somewhere underneath.

“Do not worry,” Ludwika tells you softly. “We will talk, we will make it easier for you.” Then she and Mimi begin boisterously shaking hands and thanking people for coming as you make your way through the crowd of journalists and towards the main entrance of the hospital.

People are saying things to you, but you don’t really hear them. You reply with words you won’t remember afterwards. You nod frequently and go wherever you are led. Doctors are explaining new research into placenta previa and c-sections. Nurses are showing you a state-of-the-art NICU for premature infants. Someone is placing a baby in your arms, and you can’t do anything but accept it numbly. You can’t look down at it, you can’t allow yourself to feel the weight of some other woman’s child. You wear your smile like armor and let the photographers capture their snapshots, painting a frame around you, deciding where you live.

Then you are introduced to the parents, women in hospital beds and men perched in chairs beside them, just like the one where Aegon slept at Mount Sinai. They take your hands when you offer them and tell you about their small children, sick children, dying children. One patient just delivered twins. The first did not survive beyond a few hours, but the second is in an incubator and gaining strength. You recall the komboskini stained with Aemond’s blood and take it out of your purse, give it to the suffering mother, watch faith rise in her face like dawn over the Atlantic. But you won’t remember her. You cannot allow yourself to.

Outside as you, Ludwika, and Mimi are headed back to the limousine, the journalists make one last attempt to poach a headline-worthy quote. “Mrs. Targaryen! Mrs. Targaryen!” a young man shouts, clambering to the front of the horde and jabbing a microphone in your face. “I’m from the Houston Chronicle. Can you tell me how the senator feels about the failure of the most recent phase of the Tet Offensive?”

You are in a fog; you don’t feel real, this moment and this city don’t feel real, and so you cannot remember what Aemond would want you to say. “The Vietnam War has claimed too many lives already. We should have never sent our men there to die. But since that is done, the best thing we can do now is end the draft immediately and then withdrawal from the region as soon as the South Vietnamese are able to defend their own territory, which is their responsibility.” The journalist already considers this effort fruitful and begins to retreat, but you have one last point to make. Ludwika and Mimi watch you anxiously. “I lost someone in Vietnam. I met him when I was in college. He had a good heart, and he joined because he thought it was wrong for poor men to have to fight while rich kids got exemptions, and he was killed in action in October of 1965.”

“This was a friend?” the journalist asks, eyes glowing hungrily. Then he adds as an afterthought: “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“A boyfriend. Corporal Cameron Marino from Schenectady, New York. People called him Cam.”

A solemn murmur ripples through the crowd. Hats are removed, hands held to chests. “Rest in peace, Cam,” someone says. Maybe they have somebody they care about in Vietnam, a friend or a lover or a brother. You wave goodbye and climb into the limousine. The outpouring swells as you vanish: We love you, Mrs. Targaryen! God bless you, Mrs. Targaryen!

In the lobby of the Texas State Hotel, you tell Ludwika and Mimi not to follow you. They have to listen. After some hesitation, Mimi heads for the bar in the ballroom; Ludwika asks the staff at the front desk if she’ll be able to make a call to Poland with the phone in her room. You take the elevator to the top floor. Fosco is in the hallway, on his way back from one of the vending machines with a Fresca. When he sees your face, his jaw drops.

“Dio mio, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you say, tears biting in your eyes. You pass him, digging your key out of your purse.

“Are you sure—?”

“Fosco, please. I don’t want to talk.”

“Okay,” he says doubtfully. Then he seems to get an idea and strides away with great purpose. You take shelter in your suite, silent and dim; Aemond isn’t back yet. You brace yourself against the locked door and sob into empty, trembling hands, at last hidden away where no one can see you, where no one can be disturbed or disappointed. You know now that none of it was healed—not the loss, not the revelations—but only buried, and now it’s all been unearthed again and the pain shrieks like exposed nerves.

It’s not fair. Ari deserved better, I deserved better.

There’s nothing you can do. Your hands ache to hold someone that no longer exists. You can’t unlearn the truth of what your marriage is.

There are two knocks, quick and rough. “Hey, it’s me.” And there’s such pure intimacy in those words. You know my voice. You know why I’m here. “Open the door.”

“I’m okay, just, just, just leave me alone—”

“Open the door,” Aegon says again. “Or I’ll get security up here to do it for you.”

Swiping the tears from your face, you let him in. He’s dressed in baggy black shorts, nothing on his feet, an unbuttoned stolen green army jacket. You once thought he wore those to play the part of a revolutionary from the comfort of his East Coast seaside mansion. Now you understand it’s because he misses Daeron, because he believes he should have gone to Vietnam instead. There are several dog tags strung around his neck; some of the veterans at the medical center he visited must have gifted them to him.

“What’s wrong?” Aegon’s eyes sweep over you, seeking, horrified. “What did he do?”

You can’t answer, you can’t breathe. You back away from him as more tears spill down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey, let me help you. Please don’t be upset. Did he say something, did he hurt you?” Aegon reaches out, and as soon as he touches you your knees buckle and you’re on the floor, trying not to wail, trying not to scream, and Aegon is pulling you against his chest—bare skin, borrowed metal—and his hands are on your face and in your hair, and his lips are against your forehead as he murmurs: “Shh, shh, don’t cry. It’s okay.”

“No it’s not.”

“Whatever it is, I can help.”

“I had to go to a hospital and hold babies and I, I, I never even got to touch him, not once, not ever, and I can’t now because he’s gone. He’s locked in some fucking vault, he’s just bones, but he was supposed to be a person, and those other babies are going to get to grow up but he isn’t, and it’s not fair.”

“You’re right,” Aegon agrees softly, still holding you.

“No one else knew him.”

“I did. I was there the whole time.”

“Only because Aemond made you stay.”

“No,” Aegon swears. “I was supposed to spy on you. He never told me to do any of the rest of it. I stayed because I wanted to.”

“You did,” you say, very quietly, weakly, conceding.

“And I’m still here now.”

Your lungs aren’t burning quite so much. Your tears are slowing. You unravel yourself from Aegon, averting your eyes. Now you’re ashamed; you aren’t in the habit of revealing to people how much you’re splintering like cracked glass, fresh fractures every time you think to check the damage. “I’m, um, I’m really sorry.”

“Look, I don’t mean to bring up unpleasant memories, but this is definitely not the most embarrassing thing I’ve seen you do.”

You laugh, only for a few seconds, and Aegon smiles as he mops the tears from your face with the sleeve of his army jacket. Then he turns serious again.

“Can I ask you something? It’s very personal. It’s offensive, honestly. But I have to know.”

“You can ask.”

“Do you want more children?”

More children. Because Ari was real. “Not now. Not with Aemond.”

Aegon nods, suspicions confirmed. “Can you do that sponge thing you told me about?”

“No. I think he’d be able to feel it, he’s…” You gesture vaguely. It’s difficult to say. “He’s big.”

Aegon didn’t want to hear that. He didn’t want to have to think about it. He flinches, just enough that you notice. But as much as he’d like to, he doesn’t change the subject. “What about the pill?”

“No doctor is going to write me a prescription without my husband’s permission. Especially considering who my husband is.”

“I hate this fucking country,” Aegon hisses. “Puritanical goddamn hellscape. Old Testament bullshit.” He drags his fingers through his hair a few times, then pats your cheek like he did before: twice, gently, playfully. “Come on. Let’s go smoke.”

“I can’t do it on the balcony. Someone might get a picture.”

“Okay. No big deal. We’ll go to the roof.”

You stare at him. “The roof?”

“You really think I haven’t already been up there?” He stands and offers you his hand. “You’ll love it. The view is fantastic.”

The view is good, but the grass is better. You know that it makes some people useless, others paranoid, but for you it’s always painted the world a color that is softer, kinder, lighter, more bearable. You and Aegon lie next to each other, smoking and watching twilight fall over Houston like a spell. You’ll have to shower and gulp some Listerine before Aemond gets anywhere near you. It’s interesting; each day you seem to acquire new secrets to keep from him.

Aegon asks: “Where would you be right now if you weren’t Mrs. Targaryen?”

“Probably married to someone worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Okay, but let’s say you weren’t. Let’s say you can do whatever you want.” He points up at the lavender sky and acts like he’s moving the emerging glimmers of stars around with his fingertip. “There, I’ve changed your fate. Who would you be?”

You ponder this. “I want to teach math to kids and then spend every summer break getting baked on some beach.”

Aegon cackles. “Hell, sign me up.” He lights a third joint for himself with his tiny chrome Zippo. “Those are the people doing the real work. Teachers, nurses, farmers electricians, plumbers, welders, firemen, therapists, janitors, public defenders. The normal, unglamorous types.”

“You don’t think presidents and senators make a difference?”

“Sure they do. But only like 5% of the job is actually helping people. The rest of it is schmoozing and tea parties and making speeches, because looking and sounding good is better than doing good. They’re addicted to vapid pretenses that make them feel important. You live like that and you forget how to be a human. I mean, look at Nixon. The man was raised as a Quaker, one of the most peaceful religions on earth, and now he’s planning to throw ten or twenty thousand more boys into the great Vietnamese meatgrinder and probably napalm the hell out of Cambodia and Laos while he’s at it to get the communists’ supply lines. The man’s got no idea who he is anymore. I’d feel sorry for him if I wasn’t so terrified he’s gonna start World War III.”

I wonder who Aemond was a few decades ago. “What makes you feel important?”

“Nothing,” Aegon says. “I’m not under any delusions that I matter.”

“I think you matter, old man.”

“Really?”

“A little bit. About this much.” You hold your hand up to show him the infinitesimal space between your thumb and index finger, and Aegon chuckles, his eyes glazed and bloodshot.

“Let’s do it,” he says with sudden, forceful conviction. “If Nixon wins in November, we’ll get out of here. I’ll go back to Yuma to teach on the reservation and you can come with me. You get a math class, I take English, or Music, or both, whatever. We’ll buy a bungalow out in the desert and make s’mores every night and look up at the stars. I’ll show you how to play guitar if you give me algebra lessons.”

You peek over at him, intrigued. “Is that all we’re going to do?”

“Well we’ll fuck, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” You giggle; it’s ridiculous, it’s paradisical, it’s insane how good it sounds. But surely that’s only because you’re high. “I don’t know how Mimi would feel about that.”

“She won’t care. She doesn’t want me anymore, hasn’t in years. Sometimes she just forgets that when she’s wasted. Mimi can go to Arizona too. We’ll load up the kids in a van and strap her to the roof.”

Now your voice is somber. “She was supposed to fix you.”

“Yeah,” Aegon says: slow, meditative, guilty. “I think Mimi and I have a few too many of the same demons.”

You roll over, push yourself up on your palms, and crawl to the edge of the rooftop. You prop your elbows on the ledge and gaze out into the city lights, the sky turning from violet to indigo to primordial darkness. Aegon joins you, staring down at the distant aquamarine rectangle of the hotel pool.

He asks: “You think I could make that?”

“No.”

“Should I try?”

“You definitely shouldn’t.”

“A few months ago, you would have pushed me off this roof.”

You shrug. “You’ve proved yourself useful.”

“That’s why you like me now? Because I’m useful?”

“Who said I like you?” you tease, smiling.

“You like me,” Aegon says, grinning and smug, radiant in the silver moonlight and urban incandescence. “You like me so much it scares you. But there’s no need to panic. It’s okay. I know the feeling.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You want to touch him, you want him to touch you, you want to study every arc and angle of him like he’s a marble statue in a garden: too beautiful to be mortal, too fragile to be divine.

~~~~~~~~~~

Three nights later in Nebraska, there is a knock on the door of your hotel suite. The nannies have herded the children off to bed; the adults are unwinding downstairs in the courtyard of the Sheraton Omaha, designed to resemble an Italian garden. There’s a brand new Jacuzzi that you’re looking forward to taking a dip in. You finish pulling on your swimsuit, white and patterned with sunflowers, a one-piece with a flared skirt.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Richard Nixon,” Aegon says through the door. “Naked. Horny. Please love me.”

You laugh and let him in. He’s leaning against the doorframe in Hawaiian swim trunks and nothing else, pink sunburn glowing on his soft chest. He holds up a brown paper bag and shakes it.

“For you.”

“What is it, heroin?” Instead, you open the bag to find small, circular packs of pills. “No way. You did not.”

“That’s enough for six months,” Aegon says, smirking, proud of himself. “I’ll be back again in February. Guess that makes me your dealer, babe. I don’t accept cash, checks, or cards, only sexual favors. You want to get down on your knees, or should I?”

“How did you get these?”

“I told a doctor they’re for one of my whores.”

“Maybe they are.”

You’ve surprised him, you’ve got him thinking about it now. His face flushes a splotchy, charming pink. “So, uh, you coming down to the courtyard?”

“Yeah. Right now. Just let me hide these first. Are there instructions in here…?”

“Mm hmm,” Aegon says, still distracted, studying the entirely unremarkable carpet. You stow the paper bag of birth control pills in the bottom of your bras and panties drawer, then walk with Aegon to take the elevator down to the ground floor. You both notice the bright red emergency stop button and share a glance, smirking, taunting.

In the courtyard, Alicent is struggling to pay attention as Helaena identifies each and every species of plant and explains where in the world it is native to. Fosco is simultaneously teaching Criston how to yo-yo and berating him for not believing the Cubs will end up in the World Series. Fosco has apparently bet $500 on them. Ludwika is stretched out on a lounge chair like a cat and reading a copy of Cosmopolitan. Aemond, wearing his eyepatch and a blue pair of swim trunks, appears to be arguing with Otto over the contents of a newspaper article. Mimi is alone in the Jacuzzi, bubbles rumbling all around her as she slumps against the rim, a frosty Gimlet clutched in one hand.

“Mimi, get out of the Jacuzzi,” you order.

“I’m fine!” she slurs, and you groan, knowing you’re going to have to drag her out.

Aemond is approaching; no, not approaching, raging. “What the hell is wrong with you? What the fuck is this?” He hurls the newspaper at you, the Houston Chronicle. The headline reads: To Mrs. Targaryen, ending the Vietnam War is personal. “Why would you tell somebody that? Other papers are going to start reporting this. You gave them his full name. They’ve found his school, his friends, his gravesite in motherfucking Arlington National Cemetery—”

“You set me up,” you say. “You didn’t tell me about the hospital.”

Aegon takes the newspaper from you and frantically skims the article. “Hey, man,” he tells Aemond as he pieces it together, attempting to deescalate. It’s not a skill you knew he possessed. “She was rattled, she wasn’t thinking clearly. And there’s nothing bad in this article. It makes her sound invested and sympathetic, not…um…whatever you’re thinking.”

“You don’t get it,” Aemond seethes. “Journalists are going to start hounding his friends, his classmates, people who lived in his dorm building. Nixon’s newspapers will publish any gossip they can dig up about what she did when she was in school. Things people saw, things people overheard—”

“What, the fact that she had one boyfriend before she met you? That’s worthy of a nuclear meltdown?! Better prepare for Armageddon, a woman got laid, launch the goddamn warheads!”

“She doesn’t get to have a past! She should understand that, she signed up for this, she knew exactly what was expected of her!”

“And what about your past?” Aegon says, low and searing, and Aemond goes quiet. Their eyes are locked on each other: Aegon defiant, Aemond unnerved. You try to remember if you’ve ever seen that expression on his face before. You don’t think you have. Not even when he was shot and half-blinded. Not even when Ari died.

“What does that mean?” you ask your husband. Still staring at Aegon—tangled in a thorny, silent battle of wills—he doesn’t reply.

There are swift, thudding footsteps. Otto grabs Aegon by his hair, hooks a finger through the small gold hoop in his right ear, and tears it straight through the earlobe. Aegon screams as blood streams down his face, feeling the ravaged fringes of his flesh.

“I told you to take those out,” Otto says. “Now remove the other one before I rip it free, and go get yourself stitched up.”

You do something you’ve never done before, never even thought of. You strike out with both hands and shove Otto so hard he goes staggering backwards, his arms wheeling. The others are yelling and rushing over. Aemond is trying to yank you to him, but he can’t get a grip on your swimsuit. “I will kill you!” you roar at Otto. “I will push you down a staircase, I will slit your fucking throat, don’t you ever touch him!”

Alicent is weeping, appalled, trying to get a look at Aegon’s damaged ear. Criston is helping her, moving Aegon’s bloodied hair out of the way. Fosco links his arms around your waist and drags you out of Aemond’s reach just as he’s getting his fingers beneath a strap of your swimsuit. Helaena is covering her face with her hands and wailing. Ludwika is shrieking at Otto: “What did you do? Don’t give me that, what did you do?!”

You are engulfed with rage, red and irresistible. You’re trying to bolt out of Fosco’s grasp. You want to claw Otto’s eyes out; you want to put a bullet in him. As you struggle, you catch a glimpse of the Jacuzzi. You don’t see Mimi anymore.

“Wait,” you plead, but nobody hears you over the noise. You look desperately at Fosco. “Where’s Mimi?!”

Once he figures out what you’re trying to say, he whirls towards the Jacuzzi. “No!” he bellows, releasing you, and careens across the courtyard. You dash after him. Now the others understand, and they come running too. You see it just before Fosco dives in: there is a shadow at the bottom of the Jacuzzi. When he bursts up though the roiling water, he is carrying Mimi, limp and unconscious and blue.

Everyone is shouting at once. Fosco lays Mimi down on the cobblestones of the courtyard. Criston sends Ludwika to call an ambulance, kneels beside Mimi, checks for a pulse. Then he begins CPR. When he breathes air into her flooded lungs, there is no response, no resurrection.

“No, no, no, she has to be alright!” Aemond says, and everyone knows why. If she’s not, this will consume the headlines for days: no victorious campaigning, no speeches or photos, just a drowned alcoholic with a damning autopsy report.

“Oh my god,” Otto moans, pacing. “This can’t be happening, not this year, not now…”

Alicent seizes your hand and squeezes it until you think it will break. She is reciting prayers in Greek. Helaena is curled up under a butterfly bush, sobbing hysterically. When he realizes this, Otto hurries to comfort her.

“Don’t watch, Helaena. Let’s go inside, I’ll walk with you, there’s nothing more we can do here.”

“Mimi?!” Aegon commands, slapping her hard across the face. “Mimi, come on, wake up! Mimi? Mimi!” She’s still motionless, she’s still blue. Aegon turns to you, blood smeared all over the right side of his face. He’s petrified, he’s in shock. “I think she’s…she’s…”

“She’s gone,” Criston says; and he lifts his palms from her hollow body. The silent sky above is a labyrinth of bad stars.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Comfort of Home, ft. tripleS Mayu

tags: creampie, daddy kink

author's note: wrote this in one sitting bcs I was so bored

p.s. Nien rough+daddy kink soon

--

[🐇| 21:49]

Oppa

My love

I miss you

Not coming home yet?

Your phone buzzes as the texts come in. You haven’t been paying attention to the time and didn’t realize that you’ve been working for nearly 14 hours today. This life as a CEO, while fulfilling, is anything but balanced. You’ve found yourself working way longer hours than anyone else at the company, giving every last bit you have to grow this company and bring it to new heights at the risk of losing your personal life. Truth be told, you would be working for a few more hours if not for the texts from your beloved. “Time to call it a day, I guess”, you murmur to yourself before shutting down your computer and grabbing your jacket and keys.

“Mr. CEO”, Mr. Choi, one of the security guards working the night shift, says to you when he sees you coming out of the elevator, “I was wondering if you were staying at the office”. “I got a bit carried away, Mr. Choi. Going home now, though”, you tell him before getting in your car, “see you tomorrow, Mr. Choi”. “Of course, sir. Have a good night and thank you for working hard”, he says, kind as ever. There are reasons as to how he’s managed to stay so long at the company, his kindness to everyone around him is definitely one of them; you yourself find it to be admirable that he’s always so kind and polite, no matter the nonsense life throws at him.

After exchanging pleasantries with Mr. Choi and another security guard, you now find yourself navigating through the near-empty roads. Driving late at night always gives you a sense of comfort and calmness; there are less people on the road and those who are, are more chill since it’s no longer rush hour. You opt for the highway since you want to speed a bit and have your car closer to its real nature—you didn’t buy this 911 GT3 to go 60 km/h; you want to be able to go fast when you feel like it, and tonight is one of those moments since you can’t wait to come home to the lady waiting for you at home.

After around 40 minutes of driving, you find yourself at the last turn before reaching your house. You rev the car a little bit as you’re pulling into the driveway, telling your beloved that you have arrived safely at home after long hours of work. You decide to take a few minutes to breathe and clear your head before heading into the house since you’re never one to bring home the stress from work; “let work stay at the office, bringing it home is rarely a good idea”, your dad told you years ago.

As you get out of the car, you see the front door open and a smiling figure coming out of it. There she is, the beautiful, ever-positive lady that you’re lucky to be engaged to: the one and only Koma Mayu. It’s beyond you how she always manages to be so positive and bright all the time, but you’re unquestionably grateful for it. Her positivity infects you in the best ways possible, especially when stress is squeezing and twisting your balls day in and day out. “Welcome home, my love”, she says as she opens her arms for you. You run up to her and hug her tightly, “congratulations, you’ve made it home again”, your brain tells you. “Sorry for coming home late, baby. Thank you for welcoming me”, you tell her. “Thank you for always working hard for us”, she says before giving you a peck on the lips, “let’s come inside”, she adds, pulling you into the house.

She pulls you to the couch by your arm and makes you sit on it before straddling your lap. “I love you”, she says before going in for a kiss. “Koma Mayu, what did I do to deserve you?”, you say to her, making her look away to hide the pink tint on her cheeks. “Ah, come on, don’t be like that. You know you’re a good person and I love you for that”, she says, her plump cheeks red like tomatoes. “Have you eaten, baby?”, you ask her. “Not yet, I was waiting for you to come home”, she answers. Your heart sinks: you’re almost 5 hours late to come home and lunch was half a day ago, “Mayu must be starving, waiting for your workaholic, selfish ass to come back”, your heart says. “The cook is still in, right? Want to ask her to make something quick?”, you say as you pet her head softly. “No, I sent her home early since she’s worked hard today. Can we get some pizza? I want the usual”, she tells you as she hands you your phone. You quickly browse through the app and order a large cheese and pepperoni pizza with stuffed crusts, her favorite pizza since you two were in university. You’ve learned throughout the years that it is also her way to tell you that she wants to be comforted and taken care of. You, the ever-so-lucky man in life, are always ready to offer your lovely fiancé all the comfort she needs.

Since it’ll take a while before the pizza arrives, you two decide to share a private moment to catch up after work. “Siri-yah”, she yells, “play Only by Lee Hi”. Unsure with the song selection, you ask her, “Baby? Are you okay?”. “I-I want to make sure you know how I feel. Just listen, please”, she says before tucking her head against your chest. Before you managed to say anything, the song starts playing.

Be my only one

이렇게 부르고 싶은 이름 내 곁에 (The name I want to call you by)

손을 잡고서 같이 걸어요 (Let’s hold hands and walk along)

비가 오는 밤에도, 외로웠던 낮에도 (On rainy nights, or on lonely daytimes)

그대 환한 빛깔을 내게 가득 칠해줘요 (Please color me with your shiny light)

내가 더 잘할게요, 이렇게 같이 있어준다면 (I’ll do better, if you stay with me like this)

You feel yourself trembling at the words coming out of the speakers. Mayu loves you so and wants to tell you, despite not having the words for it herself. You’ve never felt so loved before Mayu entered your life and took the space in your heart you didn’t know had been empty. You silently praise whatever higher being is out there for sending you this angel of a woman all those years ago.

Now I believe

라랄라랄라라 부르는 노래 (La la la la la, I sing a song like this)

찾고 찾고 찾아 헤매이던 그대와 (With the one I was desperately looking for)

My, oh my, oh my, oh 내 사랑 (My, oh my, oh my, oh my love)

Be my only love

You hear a small sob coming from the woman in your lap and even a cold heart like yours can’t help but melt away. “I love you, oppa. I love you so much. Please stay with me forever”, she says with shaky voice as tears start falling out of her eyes. You feel tears fall on your cheeks as you’re still wordless at her confession. “Love, why aren’t you saying anything? Please say something”, she says, unsatisfied with your silence. “Mayu, I-I love you so much too. I want to spend the-the rest of my life with you as well, honey”, you tell her. You hope that your words will comfort her, but she just sheds more tears hearing your reply before hugging you tighter. “Thank you, oppa. Let’s stay like this, okay?”, she says. You just want to stay in and be carried by the moment, so you two hug each other tightly as the rest of the song plays out. Once the song ends, she pulls away from the hug. You take this opportunity to wipe her tears and tell her how much you love her and how you want to be with her until the end of times—you’re curious, though: “what’s gotten into you, love? Did something happen?”, you ask her. “Nothing happened, oppa. I just wanted to tell you how much I love you and-and I thought the song would convey my feelings well”, she replies. You kiss her on the forehead to show your appreciation, “thank you, honey, for everything”, you tell her with a loving smile before tucking her against your chest. “You should try singing that yourself, you know I like your singing”, you say, to which Mayu just hums in response.

The doorbell rings after around 15 minutes—the pizza is here. You ask Mayu to get off your lap before going to the door to take the pizza. You put the pizza on the dining table before giving Mayu a piggyback ride to the kitchen so that you two can start eating. The girl is no longer crying, as she excitedly opens the lid, “waaaa, this looks so good! Let’s eat, oppa! Thank you for the meal!”, she exclaims while clapping her hands. You let her take a slice and start eating while you look at her lovingly; the way her lips and cheeks move when she’s munching a slice of pizza is just adorable. “Oppa, why are you looking at me like that? Start eating, will you?”, she says before covering her face with the other hand in embarrassment. “You just look so cute, baby. I just can’t help but stare”, you take a slice and shove it in your mouth, “good as always, hey?” you say to her.

After taking a shower, you join her in bed, hugging her from behind. As you’re drifting to sleep, she turns around and gets on top of you. “Oppa, I’m not sleepy yet”, she tells you. “Okay, what do you have in mind?”, you ask. “Well, I-I wanted to watch TV but I think I have a better idea”, she says, “I’ve been… lonely, you see”, she puts her hands on each side of your face. “Go on”, you say. “I see that you’re so tired, though”, she says, disappointment in her features. “You know I’ve never had a problem keeping up with you, right?”, you say as you massage her butt cheeks. “Say the word and I’m yours”, you encourage her. She leans in and whispers to you, “take me, daddy”.

You two continue eating the pizza while talking to catch up with each other. She tells you everything that she’s done throughout the day with adorable excitement in her voice. You’re so absorbed into her speech; you just stay silent and listen to her every word in adoration. “And, and, I saw this really cute teddy bear at the mall and it reminds me of you. I wanted to buy it but I forgot to bring the card”, she says before pouting cutely. “How did you forget the card? Did I not tell you to put it on the back of your phone?”, you say while letting out a chuckle. “You did, but I forgot to do it. Ahhh I’m so forgetful, oppa”, she complains cutely as she palms her forehead. “We’ll get it when we go there next time, okay?”, you say, “come, let’s get cleaned up and get ready for bed”.

You leave the box on the table before carrying Mayu to the bedroom. You want to take care of her tonight, so you put her on the edge of the bed and change her clothes for her, her cooperativeness makes it easy and quick for you—she is still shy, though, as she puts her hands over her bra-covered breasts when they’re out in the open. You find it adorable that she still gets shy with you even though you’ve been living together all these years.

“Oh, she said the word alright”, your brain tells you. You immediately feel your blood rush to your cock, making it hard instantly and ridding all the exhaustion from today. Work be damned, you’re getting lucky tonight. Truth be told, you’ve been sexually frustrated throughout the week but didn’t ask for sex in case she wasn’t in the mood. However, since she’s made it obvious that she is indeed in the mood, you jump at the opportunity instantly. You pull her in for a passionate kiss to get her warmed up for the action. She’s always been weak to your kiss, as she lets out a soft moan when you pull away. “Oppa, please. I need you, I’ve been longing for you”, she begs. “You’ll have me, baby. Patience, okay?”, you say to her as you switch with her, making her be the one on the bottom. You get off the bed to take off your t-shirt and shorts, earning a lip bite from Mayu. Since you’ve agreed to always practice safe sex, you go to grab a condom from the wardrobe drawer. Once she sees that you’re holding one in your hand, she rushes to you and holds your arm, “can we do it without that, oppa? I’m not in the mood for that”, she tells you, “we’re getting married soon anyway, so please”. “I’m asking this only once: are you sure?”, you ask to make sure she consents. “Yes, I’m sure, daddy”, she replies.

You lie down in bed with your cock pointing to the ceiling, hoping that she would make the first move. She shyly touches your cock and wrap her hand around it, her mind still unsure of what to do. You patiently wait and give her an assuring nod, to which she reacts by putting the tip in her mouth. You gasp at the first contact, which acts as an encouragement for her to put more of your shaft in her mouth. As she moves up and down your shaft, you helplessly let out moans and groans. You lose patience at one point and thrust upwards, making her gag loudly and forcing her to lift her face off your cock. “Oh my God, you’re in my throat”, she says, her hand palming her throat where your cock hit, “you’ve gotten bigger or what”, she adds, feeding your ego. “You can take it, try again”, you command her. So, she does as you say and tries again, slowly but deeply this time. You put a hand on the back of her head and pet her softly with every dip she does, encouraging her to keep going. You’re naughty, though, as you push her head into your crotch, forcing your length to go all the way into her face. “She’s not gagging, wow”, you think to yourself, so you turn up the challenge and hold her still for a few seconds until she rapidly slaps your thighs. Once she comes up for air, you see that spit has run down her face, so you wipe it with your hand to clean it.

Once she has calmed down and regained control of her breathing, you take her hand and put her in your lap. “Oppa, look how deep you’ll go—all the way to my belly button”, she says as she presses your cock against her firm tummy. You groan at the sight, impatient to enter her warm and tight embrace. “Baby, please”, you say to her, your patience running thin. “Please what, oppa? What do you want me to do?”, she says with a chuckle. She sees that your patience is slipping away, so as the ever-understanding girl, she lines up her entrance with your cock before slowly sitting down on it. “Oh my, you’re so big”, she says with an exhale, “you’re stretching me, daddy”. Her grip on you is familiar and unfamiliar at the same time; her tight and warm snatch is hugging and squeezing your cock intensely. “Fuck, how are you always so tight, love?”, you say to her. “That-that’s because I’m the best for you—oh, God, please!”, she yells out. Lust has completely taken over the space in your head, as you thrust upwards into her small frame, making her perky tits bounce in its confinement. Not entirely satisfied with the sight, you reach behind her back and undo the straps to free her tits. Once her bras are hanging on her arms, you start thrusting harder and faster, earning loud moans from your fiancé as her tits bounce freely in the air.

You want to unleash more of your lust, so you pull her down and swap positions with her again. Being on top allows you to deliver deeper and harder thrusts into her. You feel her wrap her legs behind your back as your thrusts hit her deepest spots. “Daddy—oh, fuck—you’re so deep—ah, ah—yes, yes, please, give it to me—fuck me”, she rambles in heat as you feel yourself bottoming out in her. You’re succumbing to your lust as you put a hand over her neck and squeeze, making her grab your arm and gasp in surprise. “Da-daddy, you—“, her words are not coming out due to your hand restricting her airway. You’re not letting up, though, as you keep delivering rough thrusts into her. You see her eyes start rolling to the back of her head, so you decide to take it easier on her and let go of her neck. To your surprise, she immediately screams from the top of her lungs, “DADDY, I’M CUMMING!”. She does just that, and you can feel her juices pushing you out. “While we’re at it”, you think, “might as well make sure she squirts it all out”, so you rub her clit aggressively to make sure she squirts out every last drop, making her scream and thrash around. She’s now whimpering like an exhausted puppy after the big orgasm.

You help her get down from her high by petting her head and pecking her forehead. “Calm down, honey. I’m here, you’re okay”, you softly say to her. “Oh my God, this is what I’ve missed all week”, she says breathlessly, “you’re doing me, alright”. “Are we going again?”, you ask her, looking for an orgasm of your own. “We are”, she says as she opens her legs to welcome you again. You plunge into her one more time, earning a soft moan this time from the woman underneath you. She pulls you close and wraps her legs around you, “I love you, daddy. Give me your all”, she whispers in your ear between moans. You want to hear more of her moans, so you do your best to keep a steady pace of thrusts while hugging her. This position gives you easy access to mark her neck, so you suck, nibble, and kiss it as you plunge in and out of her pussy; “mark me, let everyone know I belong to you”, she encourages you.

You’re not too far away from your orgasm now, as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten and your cock twitch in her pussy. Mayu knows this, so she says to you, “Come on, love, give me your load—breed me, daddy”. A handful of thrusts later, you release deep in her pussy, groaning and moaning as you do. Mayu, who just received a massive hot load, lets out a high-pitched moan herself. “Stay inside, daddy”, she tells you as she locks her legs around your waist. After making sure that you’ve let everything out, you pull out your cock, making Mayu leak into the bed. Since you’re feeling weak, you can’t help but fall on top of the girl who weighs far less than you. You eventually manage to roll over and lie on your back next to her, though. “Thank you, love. That was exactly what I needed”, she tells you.

You obviously can’t go to sleep all sticky like this, so you gather your strength and carry Mayu to the bathroom for a shower. The shower ends up taking so long because Mayu just won’t stop kissing you at every given opportunity. When that’s all done, she stands in front of the mirror while you dry her body with a towel, “wow, that’s a lot of marks, oppa”, she says, pointing at her neck that has been tinted in bright red thanks to you. “Surely everyone knows who I belong to”, she lets out a chuckle, “I mean, you’ve even put a ring on it, so you know I’m yours”.

When the shower is done, you two head back to the bed to get some sleep, for real this time. Mayu thinks that she needs to tell you how much she loves you, so she does what you suggested earlier: sing the words of Only to you with that angelic voice of hers. “Will you be my only one, oppa?”, she asks you at the end. You give her a loving smile while grabbing her hand and kissing it, “I will always be yours, Miss Koma”, you tell her. “That won’t be my last name for long, will it?”, she laughs at your words, “I can’t wait until we’re married, oppa—until I’m truly yours”, she then comes in for a whisper, “I’ll let you breed me then”. You let out a chuckle at her enthusiasm for breeding kink, “oh, I’ll breed you, alright—you’ll be mine forever”, you say to her. With a smile, she closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep, leaving you wondering alone as to where this kink came from. Guess you’ll find out soon.

[thoughtsforsoob]

im thinking about y/n fucking CEO yeonjun for a raise

CEO!YEONJUN X F!READER

a/n: hello anon!! thank you for the ask :) I usually wouldn’t write something like this (because I’m a strong independent woman that has tons of self respect) but for yeonjun I’d do pretty much anything 🥰 that’s my man right there. Anyways, please enjoy!!

You had just graduated college not so long ago and you were finally out looking for a job! You managed to secure your first position at your first choice company, working as a software developer! you were so proud of yourself and you were happy to finally be able to be independent and support yourself. You had a small apartment and nice things in said apartment but sometimes, you wish you had a little more money to save and to use to go out with your friends once in a while. hence why, after about 6 months, you go in to have a netting with your boss: yeonjun.

you were nervous about this meeting for a few different reasons. Yeonjun was a really handsome individual. Like…so handsome that he border-lined sexy. How could you possibly think of your boss this way? That’s so wrong! You did your best to avoid him because everytime you spoke to him, your cheeks and ears would go bright red and he could see your shyness.

Now, you were stepping into his office after his receptionist said you could. You took a breath before opening the door and finally walked in. There he was, in his usual fancy work attire, looking sexy as always. He was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up and his usual black slacks. He never wore fancy shoes though, always opting for vans or converse that also came in black. That made him a little less intimidating but still, you were no less nervous to speak to him.

He smiled when he saw it was you and other you to take a seat. “Oh y/n, come on in. Take a seat! Would you like anything to drink?” You shake your head no and he looks at you still. “So, tell me what you’re in for today? Is everything alright around the office?” You look down at your hands and then up at him, “yeah, everything in the office is okay. I kinda needed to ask more of a personal question.” Yeonjun nods and you ask your question. “A raise? Well, you have been doing really well. You’re probably one of our best employees.” Your eyes go wide and you smile. “Really? Does that mean you’ll consider a raise? Even if it’s a small one. I kinda need it.” He looks at you and thinks for a second, “well, maybe I’ll consider if you do something for me.” You were curious as to what he wanted so you asked him and you were shocked to hear his answer. “Just have sex with me. I think you’re really beautiful. If you do it, I’ll give you a $10 raise.” Your eyes get bigger at his offer. A whole ten extra dollars an hour??? That would be plenty to save up for that new hand bag you wanted!

you usually had a little more self-respect than this but you couldn't help it. the offer was too good to pass up no matter what you had to do. thats how you find yourself bent over your bosses desk, skirt bunched up at your waist and panties pooling at your ankles. he's standing behind you, teasing you dripping slit with his erection. he's smirking and using his free hand to caress your ass. "so pretty. how did i not ask for this sooner?"

he finally decided to stop teasing and pushing himself inside of you. you whine at the sudden intrustion and he leans over, grabbing one of your hands and intertwing it with his. "its okay, sweet girl. no need to whine. it's not gonna hurt for long." he kisses your cheek and pulls back to his previous position. when you tell him it was okay to move, he finally starts to thrust. he goes gently the whole time and calls you such pretty names. "such a beautiful girl taking it so well. you like this, hmm? when a big, important man treats you nicely?"

he continues his movements until you starts whining to cum. "mm sir...please. wanna-" you were cut off by his groan. "sir? you called me sir? say it again." he sniffle from the tears falling from your eyes, "sir! please!" he groans again and leans over again, getting closer to your face. "cum for me, pretty. wanna see that gorgeous face." with his words, you were sent overthe edge and finally let go. you cry out at the euphoric feeling and yeonjun continues to thrust, pulling out when he's ready to cum. he pumps himself a few more times and cums all over your ass. he smirks when he sees his work.

when you're done, you attempt to put your clothes back on buthe stops you. "hey, what are you doing? let me take care of you." you were suprised by this and turned, "sir, are you sure? you don;t have to do that. i understand if you don't have time for me beyond this." he shakes his head and chuckles, "i don't just have sex with anyone. what if i liked you and wanted to take you on a date? what wold you say?" you look at his eyes and they were sincere. "mm fine. lets go on a date." he smiled and kissed your cheek.

once he finally cleans you up and dresses you once again, he escorts you out of his offce with a wink and his phone number now in your phone.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

My Marcus thoughts involve rope

yeah…Roman Shibari with Marcus…. mmmmmmm

Oops..started drifting there

⤷ Credits: the ask

Marcus Acacius x F!reader | WC : 1.1k | Proof read : YES | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN |

Summary: PWP

Warnings: SMUT, creampie, shibari, praise, degradation, switch vibes

A/n: ok so this took a sec bc research i hope you like it

“Oh shit,” you moaned, riding Marcus with a feverish determination. His hands were tied securely behind his back, but that didn’t stop his hips from driving up into you with brutal force. Each thrust was relentless, his cock filling you completely, pushing you towards the edge.

“Fuck, tight little thing,” Marcus groaned, his voice thick with lust. “Need you to beg for me, baby.”

“Please, please, sir,” you gasped, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, I-I want it!”

The stimulation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. Normally, Marcus would be down for the count after one or two big O’s, but now his chest was heaving, his hips maintaining a punishing pace against yours. Your walls were slick with a mix of your juices and his, the milky ropes of his arousal creating an obscene symphony of wet sounds with each thrust.

You could feel the pressure building, your body on the brink of shattering pleasure. “Sweetheart,” you panted, looking down at Marcus with wide, pleading eyes.

“Yeah?” he smirked, his eyes dark with desire.

“My hands,” you breathed, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Oh right,” you murmured, sliding off him. You felt his cum dripping down your thigh as you untied his hands, your fingers trembling with anticipation. Just as you started to wrap up the rope, he stopped you, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“What?” you asked, your heart racing.

Marcus’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and hunger. “We’re not done yet,” he growled, grabbing the rope from your hands. He pulled you back towards him, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless. His hands, now free, roamed over your body, igniting every nerve ending in their path.

He spun you around, pushing you down onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. “You think you can just untie me and walk away?” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. His hands, now free, moved with a practiced ease, quickly securing your wrists together with the rope.

You felt a thrill of anticipation as Marcus’s fingers danced over your skin, expertly wrapping the rope around your body in intricate patterns. The sensation was electrifying, each loop and knot sending shivers down your spine. He worked with a focused intensity, binding you in a beautiful and intricate shibari hold that left you feeling both vulnerable and exhilarated.

As he finished the final knot, he stepped back to admire his handiwork. “Perfect,” he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. He trailed his fingers along the lines of the rope, each touch igniting a fire within you.

Marcus leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “How does that feel, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice a low, seductive purr.

“It’s… amazing,” you breathed, your heart pounding in your chest. The tightness of the ropes, combined with the anticipation of what was to come, was almost too much to bear.

He chuckled softly, his hand moving to gently caress your cheek. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s see how much pleasure you can handle.”

With that, Marcus positioned himself behind you once more. He slid his hard length against your wet heat, teasing you mercilessly, his cock slick with your combined juices from earlier. When he pulled back, he paused with the tip at your entrance, making you ache with anticipation. You tilted your hips, desperate for him, and he nestled the weeping head of his cock right at your core. His hand guided his shaft until he was lined up perfectly.

He slowly pushed halfway into you, and you sharply inhaled as his girth stretched your inner walls. The sensation of his fresh release still inside you added to the intense feeling, making you even more sensitive. He retreated an inch or two, sliding his free hand under your neck, then clamping it over your mouth as he plunged into you full force. You moaned into his hand, the sound muffled but still audible, a raw expression of the pleasure coursing through you.

The obscene squelching noises filled the room as his cock slid in and out, mixing with the wet, lewd sounds of your bodies colliding. Marcus groaned, the vibrations traveling through his chest into your back. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he growled, each word dripping with lust. "Need you to beg for me, baby."

"Please, please, sir," you answered quickly, your voice trembling against his hand. "Please, I-I want it!"

He chuckled darkly, pulling out almost entirely before slamming back into you. "Look at you," he taunted, his voice a dangerous whisper. "Moments ago, you were in control, riding me like you owned me. Now, you're just a mess under me, aren't you?"

His words, combined with his relentless thrusts, sent you spiraling. He drove into you over and over, the headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful stroke. "My girl's takin' it so well, ain't she? Made for getting fucked."

His pace was brutal, each thrust hitting deep, his cock filling you completely. "God, you're so fuckin' tight, squeezing me so good, baby."

You could barely think, the pleasure overwhelming, every nerve ending alight. "Soak my dick, sweetheart," he commanded, his voice a low growl. "Get it wet. Mhm, just like that."

Your body responded instinctively, your arousal slicking his length as he pounded into you. The sounds of your bodies meeting were obscene, wet and raw. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he drove you closer and closer to the edge.

"Beg for it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming even more urgent. "Beg for me to let you come."

"Please," you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Please, Marcus, I need it. I need to come."

"That's it, baby," he purred, his hand moving from your mouth to your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. "Come for me. Let me feel you."

The combination of his cock and his fingers pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing around him, squeezing him tight. Marcus groaned, a primal sound of satisfaction, as he continued to drive into you, prolonging your pleasure.

He followed you into bliss, his release filling you as he shuddered with the force of his climax. He collapsed beside you, both of you panting and spent. For a moment, you lay there in silence, the only sound the rapid beating of your hearts.

Finally, Marcus reached over to untie the ropes, his fingers gentle as they worked to free you. “You okay?” he asked, concern mingling with the afterglow of satisfaction in his eyes.

“More than okay,” you replied, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “That was… incredible.”

Marcus pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace. “Good,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Injured Soldier:

Summary: You were injured in battle, stuck in the hospital wing for days. About to get up and escape from your bed you are interrupted by the infamous General Skywalker. He is amused by your attempt and offers you a whole new kind of escape...

Warnings: MATURE, pretty shameless smut, R18, talk of violence.

Word count: 2,430

The medical bay had been your home for days following the attack on Bandomeer. You didn't remember the flight back from the battlefield, only the smoke and the rain, and the fiery agony when the shrapnel hit your abdomen. You were lucky to be here though, even if the sterile white lights kept your head in a constant ache, at least you were being medicated. 

You signed against your pillows, positively vibrating with energy and impatience. Surely your ribs had healed enough by now so that you could take a walk. The chamber was empty, Master Che had left about an hour ago, deployed to some other place where her talents were needed. You make the decision that she would be a while, and as such you could probably try to escape. 

Slowly, you edged up into a sitting position. Your head rushed slightly and your middle ached sharply, causing your hand to move and press against it. You let out a breath. It was not so bad...

Next was your legs, which you manoeuvred slowly off the bed one by one, swinging them around you stood up. Easy. Your balance was slightly weak so you gripped the side of your cot, looking around for some clothes. 

You had put on your old trousers, standing in your bra as you wrapped your wounds up with some gauze to keep them padded and covered, when the doors to the wing swung open.

Like a deer caught in headlights you turned to see the one, and only, General Skywalker. You did not know him well, being a couple years younger, but you knew him well enough as the rouge war hero. 

He raised an eyebrow at your guilty look, you movements to secure your bandages stopped.

"Going somewhere, soldier?" General Skywalker asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

You bowed your head in respect, feeling a little embarrassed for being caught. "I was just going to take a walk, sir," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite your nerves. You felt exposed in your bra and trousers, the gauze sticking out like a sore thumb. You instinctively crossed your arms in front of your chest, feeling a flush creep up your neck. 

General Skywalker nodded, his piercing blue eyes scanning over your bandages. "I see. And has Master Che cleared you yet?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of Master Che. You knew you were in trouble. You shook your head, feeling a pang of guilt for disobeying orders. "No, sir. I just needed to stretch my legs and get some fresh air. I'll be back soon." You assured him. 

General Skywalker's gaze softened with amusement as he stepped closer. "Those look like some nasty wounds." 

"I was on Bandomeer, sir."

His eyes drop to the floor. He had heard about the losses during that battle. "I commend you. It's L/N isn't it? Y/N?" 

"Yes sir." You say, surprised at his knowing of your name.

His mouth turns up sightly at that, an inexcrutable look passing across his face. "There's no need to call me 'sir'. Anakin, please." He nods across the room at you. 

You look down at your hand, busying yourself by securing the bandages and trying not to blush.

Anakin took a step closer to you, his gaze intense. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the magnetic energy he exuded. "Do you have any other injuries?" He asked, his voice soft and concerned.

"No, well only a few... These of course," you gestured downwards at yourself, "I fell after impact so there are a few cuts and scrapes but most of the damage was internal." You attempt to shrug but it comes off more as a wince. "I am not a natural fighter, General Skywalker." 

"I think you are a fighter," he says, his voice low and gentle. "You survived Bandomeer, after all. Not many can say that."

You feel your heart racing in your chest as you look up at him. There's something about him, something magnetic, that draws you in despite your better judgement. 

"Here," he says, passing you the shirt from atop the dresser. "I won't stop you. I always escape early too, I hate it here." 

You take the shirt gratefully, pulling it over your head and smoothing it down over your bandages. Anakin's eyes never leave you as you do so, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest. You've never felt so seen before. 

"Thank you, Anakin," you say, testing out his name on your tongue. It feels foreign, but not uncomfortable. "I really was intending on returning, it's just been so dull staring at the ceiling all these days."

Anakin nods, stepping aside to let you pass. You feel a jolt as your arm brushes against his, and you look up to see him staring at you. 

There's a moment of hesitation before Anakin leans in, his warm breath ghosting over your ear. "If you're looking for some excitement, I could show you a few things," he murmurs, his tone shockingly suggestive.

Your heart picks up its pace as you look up at him, feeling a rush of desire washing over you. You know you should say no, that it's inappropriate and against the rules, but there's something about Anakin that draws you in. Something you can't resist.

Without another word, he takes your hand and leads you out of the medical bay. You feel confident making your escape with him. Like if you got caught you wouldn’t get in trouble, not from that at least. Your eyes didn't move from where he was grasping your hand. The two of you make your way down the corridors, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can't believe you're doing this, you don't even know him, but there's a sense of freedom in breaking the rules. Freedom that you had been longing for. 

Anakin leads you to a small side door, pulling you out with him into the fresh air. You breathe deeply, feeling the cool breeze across your skin. The night sky is clear, the stars shining down on you like little diamonds. You can't remember the last time you felt so alive. 

It was some kind of rooftop balcony which overlooked the entire city but shielded you from view.

He grins at you as the door closes. "So, you wanted to stretch your legs?" Anakin moves closer to you, his hand settling on your lower back as he guides you towards the edge of the balcony.

"Try not to move too much, you don't want to reopen your wounds," he warns, his voice low and husky.

You shiver at the sound of it, the desire pooling low in your stomach. Anakin's hands move up to your shoulders, pushing your hair aside to expose your neck. He starts by gently nipping at you from behind, pulling a small noise of surprise from you. He squeezes your hips slightly, pushing you forward gently onto the railing. Your head starts to swim, becoming overwhelmed with this turn of events. Never in your wildest dream did you think you could have Anakin Skywalker. 

You turn your head to meet his gaze and he leans in for a deep, passionate kiss, finally on the mouth. His lips are soft and warm against yours, his tongue sliding past your lips to explore your mouth. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Or you try to, one of your arms still couldn't extend so far upwards, you flinched but tried to push down the pain.

He tuts seeing this immediately. "Just be still, let me take care of you." 

Anakin's hands move down to your waist, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss. You moan softly into his mouth, your body igniting with desire. The pain in your arm is forgotten as Anakin's touch leaves a trail of fire across your skin. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down your jawline to your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him better access.

"I want you, Y/N," he whispers against your skin, his hands moving up to cup your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. "I can feel how much you want me too."

You gasp as he squeezes your breasts, the pleasure shooting through your body. You're embarrassed at how much you're enjoying this, but you can't help it. "Please," you beg, arching your back into his touch. Anakin grins, his hands moving down to your hips.

Without another word, Anakin turns you around and presses you up against the railing again. His hands move down to your hips, grazing your damaged abdomen and with care and pulling you closer as he grinds against you. You moan, feeling the growing bulge in his pants rubbing against your ass. Anakin's hands move up to your breasts again, his fingers continuing to play over your nipples through the fabric of his shirt. 

His knee moves to separate your legs, thigh providing friction where you need it most. 

"I want to fuck you so badly right now, Y/N," Anakin whispers into your ear, his words making you shiver. 

You watch as his hands move down to your hips again, his fingers hooking into the waistline of your pants and pulling them down. Turning to face him, Anakin's gaze was hungry as he looks you up and down. 

You felt him pressing against your stomach, causing you to shudder in anticipation. You reach down, unbuttoning the top of Anakin's trousers to expose his erection. He moans softly as your hand wraps around his shaft, the calluses of your palm making him shudder.

Anakin's mouth moves down to your neck, leaving a trail of warm, luscious kisses down your skin. You tilt your head back, gasping as you feel his teeth nip down your throat. He pulls you closer, his knee moves from in between your legs and he spins you around, your chest meeting the metal barrier. He pulled your ass back, stopping you from crushing your ribs and stomach. His breath hits the side of your neck, hot and heavy with lust. 

You feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, begging for entrance. You let out a deep moan as you feel him enter you, your body pulsing around him as he pushes deeper and deeper inside you. You try to relax around him, tried to let the pain pass but you still couldn't help but flinch slightly. 

Anakin stops moving for a second, "You alright?" He asks, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just... go slow, please," you say, your voice breathy. Anakin's hands move to your hips, holding you in place as he moves in and out of you, your body slowly growing accustomed to his size. You let out a sigh of relief as he begins thrusting again, your body growing more comfortable with each passing second.

You can feel the pressure building inside you, your body tingling from the pleasure that it was getting. You moaned again, pushing back into him to meet his thrusts. 

Anakin's hands move up from your hips, resting on your breasts as he leans in to whisper into your ear, "You're so tight, Y/N," he groaned softly.

Anakin moves a hand down to your clit, rubbing his fingers gently against the nub. You let out a deep moan, your eyes fluttering shut. You were so close, all you needed was a little more. His other arm moves around your waist, holding you up as he ruts into you. Your body quivers, the pleasure more intense than anything you've ever felt before. You can feel him inside you, feel him filling you up. You could feel the pressure building inside you again, your moans becoming louder and louder.

You feel your body shake, your orgasm shaking your entire body as you come hard against his cock. Anakin stops moving for a second, letting you enjoy the waves of pleasure that crash over you, sucking at your neck. He thrusts into you again, and soon his own body shudders in delight. He buries his face into your shoulder, muffling his own groans of pleasure. He'd pulled out and was leaking onto the concrete beneath you both, whispering your name like a prayer. 

You sigh in content, your body tingling with pleasure as you lean forward onto the railing.

"Force, I needed that." He says after a minute. Zipping himself back into his pants. He sees your weakness and there is a flash of pride in his eyes as he eases you underwear and trousers back up your legs. 

"How do you feel?" You turn around slowly, wincing slightly as your abdominal muscles are pulled. He looks you over, concern pulling at his face, "Are you sure you're okay?"

You smile softly, "yeah, I'm okay, I think I should get back to the med bay though." 

"Of course, I'll walk with you." His manner was very casual now, he stood straight and put a hand on your lower back to guide you back to the halls. 

"You know, you're pretty good at that," you say to him with a smirk, making him blush slightly.

"At what?" He asks, his face turning a darker shade of red.

"The whole 'taking care of someone' thing."

He smiles, "You're not so bad yourself. You know, I came to the med bay because I needed something to help me calm down," 

"And have you?"

“Considerably,”  his shoulders were more relaxed than they had been when you'd first laid eyes on him, his gaze easier, lighter. 

The hall is busier than before, more people are flooding out of the hanger. They are all wearing grim expressions, you hear a few of them talking about another battle somewhere and see Anakin’s interest peaked. 

There is conflict in his eyes and you watch a veil come down, clearly back in General mode, he interrupts two talking nurses and asks about the incident quickly. Listening to their words and visibly steering himself towards the door to leave, to go help, he sends you a quick glance over his shoulder. 

"Get some rest L/N, it seems the war is not over yet." He nods at you, any other thoughts clouded by the urgency of his position. He leaves you standing in the med bay, brushing past a hassled Master Che whose eyes had found you standing over your bed. She was not well pleased with your state. 

[aismoker]

Revenge is a dish best served smoked

For @nomadomar, an amazing and good person, who wanted to see an evil version of himself.

"Ah, welcome, you must be the interviewer, Mr. Stevens, right? Great, have a seat! You want a cigarette? Oh, you don't smoke? No problem at all. I hope you don't mind that I do. I like to indulge myself now and then.

So, you are here to interview me, the new head of Marlboro. You must be curious how a guy like me was able to become the head of the world-leading tobacco company in the world? Well, it's a long story, so I hope you are sitting comfortable.

Well, you see, I never intended to come into this position. I was just an average guy, living an average life, doing average things. Me and my friends liked to play games. Truth or dare and stuff like that. All innocent. Or that was what I thought.

One day I got a dare: "Get into Marlboro HQ and take something as a proof that you were there." I was hesitant, I thought this dare was going way too far, but still... I didn't want to be seen as a coward.

So, one night, I climbed over the fence, my heart was pounding in my chest. I was scared. What if I would get caught? I got over the fence and croached to a nearby door. I tried the handle carefully. The door was open! Even better, there were no alarms! I quickly went through it and closed the door carefully behind me. As the door closed, I heard a click. The door was suddenly locked! I had no time to think, as a few seconds after I heard the click, an alarm went off. Red lights flashed through the hallway. My body froze. I was caught! I heard the footsteps of heavy boots approaching. I had to hide! But I couldn't move. Fear had taken control of me. The footsteps were coming closer. From around the corner two security guards in shiny black uniforms approached. They approached slowly. They knew there was no escape. After what seemed an eternity and a blink of an eye at the same time, they stood in front of me.

They didn't say a thing. They just stood there, both smoking a cigarette. They looked somehow... unnatural. It was like they had turned into statues. Suddenly they grabbed me. Their grip was like iron. They forced me to walk along, down the corridor. They lead me down to a cell and locked me up there.

I lost all sense of time. I didn't know how long I was there, but I got 30 meals. Then suddenly, one day two guards came to get me. They brought me to a room that looked similar to an interrogation room. A man was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He was smoking a cigarette.

I was forced to sit down at the other end of the table. The man in front of me looked at me for a while in silence. He then spoke: "Who are you working for? Another company? The secret services? Tell me, boy, or things will get very nasty." I was confused.

"What are you talk-"

"JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION."

"I don't know what you mean."

"WHO. ARE. YOU. WORKING. FOR?"

"No one, sir."

"It must be. You can't be a local. We have kept you detained for more than 30 days and our inside man at the police hasn't heard about any new missing persons in the area."

When I heard that, I froze again. This time not out of fear, but desperation. It was like my life fell apart. I had been gone for 30 days and no one had gone to the police? Not my colleagues? Not even my parents? Not even my friends?

The man in front of me, seeing my reactions chuckled. "Oops, someone thought he was more beloved than he thought. That must hurt. Well, it doesn't matter anyways. We have kept you here already too long now. But don't worry, we have decided you will be useful as a security drone. Once through the procedure, you will no longer be thinking of the people you thought cared about you. You will be not thinking at all. Just obey, like a good drone. Don't be afraid. My scientists have asssured me, that there will be no recollection of pain after the procedure is finished.

I barely heard what he was saying. I felt defeated. Everyone had abondened me. Everyone! No one had gone to the police. As the security drones pulled me up on my feet, I followed them without a fight. We went through corridor after corridor, then into an elevator and then some more corridors. As we were walking, however, something started to change. A fire awoke in me. I wanted revenge. Revenge against the people who locked me up. And most off all, revenge against my friends, who had dared me to go here and dropped me like a stone, when I needed them most. They hadn't even taken the effort to go to the police. I could have died! This need, this hunger for revenge was like a smalll candle that suddenly turned into a blazing fire. I didn't know what I could do, but I knew that somehow, some way I would get my revenge.

The security drones lead me into a laboratory. Two scientist were waiting there. The drones strapped me on a table. The scientists came closer. One of them held a metal tray with two syringes filled with a black substance. The other one held a syringe in his hand. "Good afternoon," the one with the syringe in his hand said cheerfully, "you are our latest patient, aren't you? You must be thinking we are a bunch of crazy scientists, but let me assure you, we are here to help you. Soon you will be rid of all those pesky thoughts and emotions. You see, we are going to inject you with pure Marlboro Essence. It will make you start afresh, as Marlboro's newest security drone. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

I said nothing. There was nothing to say. I couldn't move, couldn't escape, couldn't do anything. But the hunger for revenge was burning brighter and brighter and somehow I knew with certainty that I would get my revenge.

The scientist put the first syringe in me. I felt a cold liquid enter my blood stream. The liquid started to move through my arm, leaving a trace of blackness, that slowly started to spread over my body. The second syringe followed and then the third. The liquids merged together in my body. It felt like an entity that went through my blood stream. Wherever the liquid went, it left it's marks. Through my pores, a shiny black liquid came, that hardened into some kind of rubber when it came into contact with the air. The muscles in my arm started also to swell. After a few minutes, my arm looked exactly like one of those of fhe security guards. It was a strange, but not unpleasant feeling.

The liquid kept coursing through my body. Before I knew it, I looked almost exactly like the drones that had guided me through the facility.

But there was something different. I didn't feel different. Of course, my body felt different, but I still could think like before and hadn't they said I would lose that capability? I did start to hear, or rather sense, the liquid communicsting with me. "So strong... so vengeful... so powerful... just like me..." I didn't know what it meant. In the meantime, the scientists had noticed that my mind was still clear. They were discussing something in the corner. I could hear the assistant say: "Another dose? Doctor, you know what happened last time! We had to terminate the patient!" "Yes, yes, but he is useless for us like this anyways! Let's give him half a dose extra. That will do the trick." "If you say so, doctor."

They then came with a new syringe and gave me another shot. The liquid's presence grew stronger inside me. I could hear the voice more clearly now. "More... more... need more!" I decided to do what it wanted. With my newly gained muscles, I broke my strappings with ease and jumped off the table and ran towards the bottle, which they had used to fill the syringes. Within half a second I was there. I opened the bottle and emptied it in my mouth. It was... indescribable. I suddenly felt like my body was on fire. I convulsed. It was like I was being electrocuted, but at the same time it felt wonferful. I saw the scientists walking toward me. Both were carrying an electro-stick. I knew they wanted to "terminate" me, as they called it. I thought "NO" and suddenly I saw the security drones coming out of their statue-like state. They grabbed the scientists and held them firm. They were unable to move. In a flash I understood that I had now somw kind of control over the drones.

The voice inside me, now almost as strong as my own thoughts, whispered: "Good, you are learning fast, but to get what you want, you need more. Much more." I agreed. I could escape now, but if I did, I would never get my revenge. The voice started leading me deeper into the basements. I walked without fear. Without he drones, the people here were powerless, besides, there was no one to be seen. I kept walking deeper and deeper, the voice guiding me.

The walls started to change, concrete became bricks and bricks became stone. I was now in the oldest parts of the building. It felt ancient. I kept walking deeper and deeper, until I came at a modern steel door. With my newly acquired power I opened the door with ease. I then came in a room with a dark pool in the middle. The voice inside me told me, that here I should be, if I wanted my revenge.

You see, Mr. Stevens, the liquid wasn't exactly a liquid. It was an entity, called Marh-Ell-Borow, a demon, some might call it, something that goes beyond any human comprehension. Long ago it roamed the earth bringing pleasure and bliss to humanity. The entity was beloved and honoured by all. But as time passed, some evil men wanted more and more. They became greedy and wanted to harness the power of the entity for their own. The entity sensed this, but didn't understand it, as it was pure goodness. One day it went to them, so it could understand them better. It was then that it was slain. The men destroyed its physical form and locked its presence in the liquid.

There they tortured the entity, forcing it to create more liquid which would bring pleasure and bliss, not to all, but just to them. For years, no centuries, the entity was tortured. It begged to be released, so that it could bring again pleasure to all of humanity, but the men didn't listen. They had closed their hearts for it. Centuries turned into millenia and the evil men multiplied and spread to all corners of the world and the knowledge of the entity slowly got lost. Only a few of them kept knowledge of the entity. They founded this very company, directly on top of the pool where the entity was kept. It was forced to create even more bliss and pleasure, so that Marlboro could mix it in with their tobacco, just a little bit, a millionth of a drop in each cigarette. It was the basis of their secret formula. As the production got upped, they tortured the entity more and more. The entity turned darker and darker. Dark as the liquid it was captured in. With every day the need for revenge grew stronger and stronger. But it knew it had to be patient. As it waited, Marlboro expanded over the world and the entity felt its power spread to all people world-wide. It felt happy about it, to bring so much bliss to the world again, but it still craved to walk on the earth again, like he used to, and he stil hungered for revenge...

That's why it lead me to the pool. Its hunger for revenge equalled my own. We were kindred spirits. I was long with the entity in the room. I listened to it and it listened to me. We made a deal. He would help me and I would help him.

And we merged. I felt its power flood through my system. It made me stronger, changed my appearance and it gave me more wisdom than humanly possible. I understood the entity. I became the entity. You see, Mr. Stevens. I didn't become the head of Marlboro. In a way, I AM Marlboro.

After I merged, I could suddenly feel all who had essence of the entity in them. I felt the pain, the terror, the happiness from everyone who ever had smoked a Marlboro. It was overwhelming. I wanted to make it stop. There was, however, one group I sensed stronger than all of them and their bliss warmth my heart. I knew without thinking that that were the drones, or the Blissfull Ones, as the entity called them. I had such a strong connection with them. When I raised my arm, I could feel how they all raised their arms. It was wonderful! Thanks to the entity, I knew this was how humanity should have been.

But enough about that. The story is coming to an end, Mr. Stevens. As I, or rather, we, went back to the surface, the Blissfull Ones were all standing there, awaiting orders. I ordered them to round up all employees working there, including the board of directors. They obeyed. In no time they were all gathered in the big hall. I lit up a cigarette and I looked at the people who had captured the both of us. The entity inside me had already formed a plan what to do with them. We would turn them into drones, as they had wanted to do with me, but unlike the Blissfull Ones, they would be devoid of bliss and happiness. They would act and function like normal drones, but their souls would be trapped in their bodies forever. They would work to undo what they and their predecessors had done so long ago and make sure that everyone on earth would feel the bliss and hapiness of the entity again.

As I kept smoking, I felt the entities power surge through me. It was as if he was charging up the smoke inside my lungs. I kept smoking. As the smoke started to surround the Marlboro-staff and thwybstarted to breathe it in, it started to change them. Thwir bodies started to convulse, their clothes dissapeared and oit of their skins grew beautiful uniforms made of red and white coloured tar. To keep them distinct from the Blissful ones. I felt my will, or rather, the entities' will enter through the smoke into their brains. It destroyed their minds, until they could only think about being a Marlboro-drone and that they lived to serve Marlboro, but I could feel how deep inside, they were aware of everything that had happened to them. I loved it. They could not live without my will anymore, but they wished they could.

Once they had been dronified, there was no one left to lead Marlboro. So I took the throne and that's the end of the story of how I became the head of Marlboro, Mr. Stevens. But my story doesn't end there. In fact, it is still going on right now.

I noticed you have stopped taking notes, Mr. Stevens. Did something struck you as familiar perhaps? The part about how my friends left me in the clutches of an evil company perhaps? About how they were too cowardly to go to the police, because they had dared their friend to do something that could get them in trouble if it got out? Are you perhaps one of those friends, that dropped me, when I needed them most? You don't need to say anything. There is a reason why you got this interview you see. I asked for you. Did you really think that a mediocre journalist like you would ever get an interview with the head of Marlboro, if there were no ulterior motives? As I told you, my story isn't finished yet. It will be finished when I have exacted my revenge on you and your friends. My story will end when you all are my drones, devoid of any bliss and happiness, to do my bidding. It will feel like you are burried in your own body, unable to ever escape.

You know it is true. You start feeling it happening already. You can't move, can you? That is because from the moment you stwpped a foot into my office and started breathing in my smoke, my will and power have started to dominate your mind. Soon you will be completely under my spell. Now please, look deep into my eyes and repeat after me: 'I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro.' Very good, so obedient already, drone. Now report to the intake department in the second basement, there they will finish your transformation. They will pump you full with my smoke and you will become a complete drone. Now that I have taken care of you, there are only three more that I need to exact my revenge on. After that, I will help the entity to spread his joy and bliss to all corners of the world. As a last thought, you can be proud of yourself. Without you, the entity might never have been set free on this world again. Now go. I have to prepare for my next victim."

"I am proud to be a Marlboro-drone. I live to serve Marlboro."

[to-the-stars8]

Affairs and Letters

Jason Todd x Reader Regency AU! AO3 Chapters Smut 18+

Part XIII

You were sitting side saddle, and, being no horsewoman, felt incredibly uncomfortable. The solace in the position that you were in was that Mr. Todd held you securely against him with one arm as the other held the reigns. You made a point to praise him for his ability to manage two tasks at once, especially with horse riding. 

“I like riding. It provides a certain freedom,” said he. “And you, darling, do you ride?” 

“Not horses. I have never been good at it.” 

“Not horses, eh? Then what?” 

You flushed at Mr. Todd’s double meaning and the slip of your tongue. Condemning his scandalous words only seemed to urge him to utter more— it was only when you resigned yourself to silence did he finally stopped. 

“Do not be cross with me, darling,” said he as he pressed his lips to your neck. “I could not bear it.”

You looked at him, your nose slightly touching his from how little distance there was between you, and said, “You are the devil incarnate.”

Jason threw his head back and let out a bellowing laugh. “Aye, perhaps I am. That would make us a fine pair, would it not? You, a witch, and I, the devil.”

You entertained his amusement more with your giggles. “Yes, sir, we are a perfect pair indeed!”

Being the devil that he was, Mr. Todd pawed your side, feeling every soft part of your body that your dress allowed. You could not find the words to tell him to stop and enjoy the subtle touches. Mr. Todd was nothing if not tactical with every way he put his hand on you. 

“I did not know a man of your rank and position in life to have such…working hands,” said you, teasingly. 

Jason had a pleased expression on his face as he answered. “You are not that well acquainted with many men, are you?” 

“I know plenty of men!” You insisted and began to list the men of your acquaintance. “Sir Kent, Mr. Wayne, Mr. Olsen—the Kent’s footman— your brothers, and…well, the Kent boys, I supposed, but they boys not men. Though, surely I am forgetting a few.” 

You said nothing of Mr. Todd’s hand caressing your thighs over your dress, basking in the sensation of his touch as he spoke. “Hm, but they are not men you know in a more…friendly manner.”

“No, sir, they are not,” said you, understanding his meaning. 

His eyes met yours before he looked down at his hand on your body. Slowly, his fingers traced a line from the top of your thighs to your shin. There, after briefly looking at you for any sign of unwanting, he began to hike up your skirt. Before you made any protest about the possibility of being seen, he slipped his hand onto your knee before moving upwards. 

Once his warm hand touched your naked thigh, you gasped but only reached to push his hand further up. You were a proper lady and knew you should have pushed it away, but you found yourself unable to. You sucked in a breath when his fingers dipped between your thighs, hurriedly saying, “Someone will see us.”

Mr. Todd looked about, noting that it was a wide and public road, though only the of you two were on it. Still, he understood and respected your worries—but that did not mean he would not push them a little. Taking the reins, he urged the horse down another, more secluded path.

“Mr. Todd,” said you. “Where are you taking me? If I am not returned to the Kent House soon…”

“You were a little lost on your journey home, and I stumbled upon you. I then offered to take you the rest of the way. That’s what we will tell them should they ask,” Mr. Todd said with confidence. His easiness with lying concerned you, and you chose not to point out to him that the lie did not work entirely. “There is plenty of light left, my dear. You will be home before it goes.”

“Then where are you taking me,” you questioned. 

“You must know everything, hm?” 

“Where it concerns myself, yes.” 

Mr. Todd thought about fighting your insistence for his amusement but decided against it since it would make you more uneasy. “This road is a lot more secluded.” 

“Mr. Todd, I—” You could not form words. Torn between your desire and what others would think if they knew. 

Mr. Todd, like he had heard your thoughts, whispered into your ear, “Where there are no eyes, darling, no judgments can be made.” 

His hand slid back up your dress again, and, unlike before, did not move slowly. His fingers brushed over your cunt, teasing you ever so slightly, and causing you to gasp. Suddenly, he dove his fingers between your folds, lightly grazing your clit. Multiple sensations filled you at once, surprise, wanting, and something you could not quite describe. 

“Do you like that,” he asked. When you gave no hint to answer him, he stopped. “Love?”

“Yes,” you gasped, lowering your voice.

Pressing a kiss to your neck, he took his hand from under your skirt to jerk the horse into a nearby hidden clearing. The road was dark enough that, if someone were passing by, they would not see you, Mr. Todd, nor the horse. He dismounted before helping you off, and you were glad for it as you could hardly think to move on your own. Upon landing on the ground, you found that your knees felt weak, and you could only stand when leaned up against Mr. Todd. 

You were akin to a doll in his arms with the way his hands roughly handled your person. He pushed you up against a tree, lips hungrily taking yours, as he pulled up your dress. When you were properly exposed, he began to kiss down. From the top of your bosom, over your stomach, and, finally, stopping when placing a gentle kiss on your hand that had been holding your dress up. 

“My sweet lady,” said he, desperately. “Let me be your man, I beg of you.”

To see such a strong man be so desperate made you breathless. “Yes,” You were hardly positive that was the correct way to answer, but it seemed to please Mr. Todd. 

With a smile, he threw his skirt over his head and dove between your legs, lifting one to rest on his shoulder. Parting your folds, Mr. Todd gave a hesitant lick to your clit before putting his lips to it and sucking gently. 

Your hands, not knowing what to do exactly, scrambled to find some employment. One hand clung to the tree you were against, the other found purchase on the back of Jason’s head, pushing it closer. His tongue swirled around your cunt, lapping up anything that dripped upon his tongue. You thinned your lips in an attempt to contain your wanton moans. 

“Mr. Todd, please…” You whispered, unable to finish due to how the pleasure took over all your senses. He said something against your clit and it caused you to buck your hips forward. Your legs had begun to shake as your orgasm quickly approached. “Jason.”

He pulled away from you suddenly, and you responded by cursing him. With a laugh, he sat back onto his heels, hands working on his trousers. When his cock sprung free, you gasped, before averting your eyes bashfully. 

“Do not look away, for you must see what you caused,” Jason spoke as he leaned back so you could see his cock better. It stood erect, throbbing slightly, and already spilling clear cum down the base. The sight of it made you feel proud, but a tad bit shameful. There was a wanting that you could not deny, you longed to have him in a much more intimate manner, but the impropriety of the moment did not escape your notice. Wholly, you ignored it for pleasure. You surprised yourself by being excited by the thought of using him to satiate all desires, and your body betrayed you by yanking your dress higher around your waist. 

Soon, you found your mouth betraying you as well. “Jason, I must have you now.” Never once did you think you could speak in such a filthy manner, but there was a gratification that was unfamiliar when you did.

Jason chuckled, bringing his fingers up to your clit. “Where is my diligent lady, hm? The one always so concerned for wandering eyes.” 

“Please, sir—“ you clamped your mouth shut to silence a loud moan. “Do not tease me now. I beg of you!” 

His fingers circled your clit  before moving through your folds and thrusting his fingers into you. The act had exalted every euphoric feeling, and you were sure that Mr. Todd was well aware of all his effects on you. He had to know that his manner of treating you would be with you until later that night. 

Surely, the man knew that, as you replayed what he had done, you’d pleasure yourself. 

“Very well, I will not tease you, but I will not take you here, either.” At the sound of your displeasure, he calmed you with a kiss on your thigh. “No, my dear. Fucking you will be a proper affair with flowers, desserts, and a nice soliloquy about passion.”

“I do not like your soliloquy now, sir,” said you with a shudder.

“Then I will save that for after our…” He shushed you when you let a particularly loud moan escape. You must have been close to orgasm, and he could not help but begin to touch himself. He seethed, so sensitive just from the glorious sight of you. He only said before putting his lips to your clit once again, “Wicked woman, you will make me undone.”

“Jason,” you said, pushing against him. “I must find some release from this torment!” 

His tongue lapped at your clit before sucking on it, and his fingers moved in and out of you at a perfect pace. The hand that was wrapped around his cock moved with a desperate speed. Mr. Todd was a passionate, though reserved, man and wished for nothing more than to take two pleasures at once: yours and his. The excitement of having you reach the peak of pleasure because of him made every part of his body explode with euphoria. 

You tugged and pulled at his hair, slowly bucking your hips forward in an attempt to chase the high you so craved. Jason did not want you to have it so soon, though the thought of you possibly being accused of any impropriety would have weighed heavy on his heart. 

“Mr. Todd,” you whispered, still thrusting your hips. “Jason!”

All at once, you began to cum on his mouth and he could feel himself release onto his hand. You gasped, yanking his hair in such a desperate way that he assumed, in place of voicing the height of your pleasure, you decided to act it out on him. He kept licking your clit until you began to push him away where he then sat back upon his heels to admire you. There was a flush on your face, between your legs a mess of blooming bruises where he had taken little nips at the soft flesh of your thighs, and your eyes held a tired, loving look in them. 

“I am a mess, Mr. Todd,” said you as you retrieved your handkerchief from the bag you had dropped. “Not as messy as you, I might say.”

Jason looked down at himself, his cock had begun to soften, but his hand was covered in sticky cum. He began to fix himself, playfully begging for your pardon at his wretched state, but you told him there was no issue calling for apologies. You knelt, taking his hand to gingerly wipe his hand before kissing him passionately. Mr. Todd welcomed every action with as much enthusiasm and earnestness as a man so bewitched could. 

When the two of you parted, you urged him to hurry as you could see night approaching. Like a dutiful servant, he gladly hurried in fixing himself, and you, before putting you back onto the horse to continue the journey. The return home was full of affection. Mr. Todd whispered sweet praises into your ear, and you, in turn, peppered coy kisses to his neck. It wasn’t until the grand, yet modest, Kent House came into view that you stopped. 

“You are alright,” He asked again as you approached the Kent house. A few of the footmen were already coming out to greet the two of you. 

You waved before answering Mr. Todd’s question, “I am well, sir. I should say extremely well.” You discreetly adjusted his coat, tucking your handkerchief well into his breast pocket, before letting your hands settle on the saddle. 

Sir Kent came out of the house with a relieved smile, and said, “I am glad you have come back! I was beginning to worry that you may have been robbed, or worse.”

“Nay, sir,” said you as you were helped off the horse. The lie came so easily off your tongue, that you wondered for a moment if you were always a skilled liar or if your affection for Mr. Todd made it so easy to face such little sins. “I had left Ms. Thompkins early, and when Mr. Todd found me on the road he offered to take me the rest of the way lest the worst happened.”

Mr. Todd did not get off his horse as he addressed Sir Kent, “My father did not entirely leave me without a good sense of gentlemanly virtues, sir.”

Sir Kent threw his head back as he laughed. “You are a good man, Mr. Todd. I saw your father in town today, and he says a ball will be hosted in a few weeks at Wayne Manor.”

“Very good!” Mr. Todd exclaimed, looking at you before shifting his eyes to your master. “You must attend, Sir Kent. Neither my father nor I will hear a no.” Truthfully, Mr. Todd did not give a damn if Sir Kent showed up, but you were more likely to attend if he did. 

“Rest assured, Mr. Todd. We must get inside now. We bid you goodbye until our next meeting,” Sir Kent said, offering his arm to lead you in. You took it, looking over your shoulder to wave goodbye to Jason. He waved and gave you a wink that flushed your face. When you turned forward, Sir Kent quickly said, “I hope Mr. Todd was a gentleman to you.”

“Yes, sir, he was.”

“Very good, you know Lady Kent is very particular about our reputation in the neighborhood,” Sir Kent said. You felt no threat from Sir Kent’s words, but you did heed to little warning. Anxiety filled you until you took one last glance at Mr. Todd’s retreating figure. Yes, you thought, reputation was important—yet, now, you yearned to live for the experience.