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sunboki · 1 year ago

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⎯ THE DEVIL'S PLAYTHING a Christopher Bahng fiction

💣 : Christopher Bahng x fem. reader

TROPE. bodyguard au, demon au, friends to lovers, eventual smut, minors DNI

WORD COUNT. 6.6k words

WARNINGS. chan & han are demons(NO POLY), mentions of lucifer/the devil, eventual smut, descriptive violence, smoking, fighting, cursing, blood, wounds, drinking, reader gets drunk/passes out

PLAYLIST

AUG'S NOTES. this started as a random blurb while in the bathroom(tmi i know) but i just HAD to make a longer adaptation!! as usual, if you enjoy the fic please feel free to leave feedback & a reblog!ised ya’ll bodyguard chan would be back.. your wish is my command~

SYNOPSIS. A petty robbery leads to deep debt for Chan, a white-eyed demon occupying Hell. So eventually, he finds himself faced with no choice but to go job hunting. The best offer available? A bodyguard gig in the human realm. Oh, and the worst part? Jisung’s here too.

or alternatively :

When Chan had to leave Hell to "babysit" (a.k.a. protect) you in the human realm, he wasn’t expecting for things to turn out the way they did — in more ways than one.

SMUT WARNING. usage of the nickname “bunny” and “good girl”, somewhat hinted size kink, praise, dumbification, barely dubcon (reader gives consent ; nonverbal), creampie, chan cums inside (use protection ya’ll), monsterfucking! basically lmao

There’s an infinite list of reasons why humans shouldn’t associate with demons. But was it really all that important? Maybe the humans wanted it.

Or, maybe the demons did too.

Maybe, the demons didn’t have a choice.

What a funny thought.

Although, for Christopher Bahng, a demon himself, it was reality.

So the real question stood. Is it the humans that shouldn’t associate with demons, or the other way around?

The thought occurred to Chan at some point, but his head, ringing with the sound of silver coins clattering on glass surfaces, drowned out every ounce of sensibility. Blood, flesh, he was a demon. And right now, he had hell to pay as Lucifer’s underling. No pun intended.

Demons were an ideal choice for bodyguards, too obsessed with their own greed to pay any mind to the consequences, dogs to somebody else’s beckon, minds trained like hunting dogs.

Taking care of the dirty work, for a price.

A price that Chan needed, desperately. Because one thing demons, including himself, love doing is tormenting.

That is until he’s the victim of the tormenting, and all of a sudden the experience doesn’t feel too welcoming.

Raiding his home was an understatement considering they had utterly demolished every inch, not leaving a single fragment remaining in one piece. Granted, he didn’t cry about it. Instead, he lived up to his name, his title.

..Let’s just say he doubted the red stains would ever leave that shirt of his, metallic scent strong enough to make your nose burn.

Unfortunately, Lucifer wasn’t the greatest at forgiving, and he determined rather quickly this was only the start of his problems regardless of how sweetly the demon lord threatened explained he would dissolve Chan into ash if he ever got tired of him.

Alas, two weeks later, he gets a call.

Combing a frustrated hand through raven-colored locks, he holds the phone up to his ear, repeatedly snapping his fingers. The girl kneeled between his legs raises up begrudgingly, wiping her mouth and disappearing into his bathroom.

Well there goes a good blowjob.

Yet, finally, a job was proposed.

Multiple, according to the drone of a fumbling assistant. Jobs comprised of one he’d primarily work and occasional hitman gigs on the side.

Catch? The job was located in the human realm. Not impossible, but not as easy as sleuthing in Hell, where common folk were demons and not big-eyed, nosy, mind-your-damn-business-mortals.

The job in question? Babysitting. Specifically for Lucifer's right-hand man, otherwise known as the Devil’s Plaything. And, despite not being a demon, served Lucifer as if he was one. How cute.

Or as the trauma-induced auditor phrased it, “guarding” some girl.

“Guarding” was something he was mildly familiar with, but never a human. Never in the human realm. So when the suggestion was offered, Chan’s first instinct was to reject—remind Hell’s moderator that he wasn’t just a regular, but a demon of impressive status. A white-eyed demon, who, in fact, ranged most powerful of its kind.

His first instinct was also to punch the man working at the register of this putrid smelling burger joint right in the face, maybe frame his head as a part of a collection while he’s at it. Demons are creative like that.

Because being in this situation, nonetheless currently walking around in the human realm he swore to never step foot in has his stomach jarring.

“Chan, look at this! It’s called K-E-T-C-H-U-P, what a funny name!”

Oh. Yeah. The walking headache, Han Jisung. Forgot he’s here too.

Digging through his pockets for spare change, all he could find was a few meager pennie’s as the obnoxious noise of his demon-companion scarfing down a double cheeseburger had Chan’ jaw progressively tightening.

“Um, sir, that’s not enough to pay for-“ Without hesitation, Chan lifted his upper lip with his index, revealing the sharply pointed canines underneath and effectively silencing the apron-clad employee, frantically printing his receipt without another word.

Yes, apparently there are perks of being a hell-spawn.

Although, the burger still tasted like shit. What a shame.

Heading to the location wasn’t all too difficult, being that it was rather easy locating such an enormous property surrounded by tall, black hinged gates. The passcode… was another story.

Lucifer was likely laughing his ass off watching them try figuring this out.

“Okay, It’s probably like 666 or something- JESUS— you guys scare me sometimes.” Clutching a hand to his erratic heart with panic, a pacing Jisung nearly toppled over as his soon-to-be Boss suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gates slowly opening behind him.

He may not be a Demon, but by how nonchalantly he appeared from thin air, he seemed to gain some attributes over the years.

It didn’t take long for either of them to figure out why the title “Devil’s Plaything” was attached, because the more he toured them around this palace of a house, the more he told of his reasons for hiring them in the first place. Well, more like why Lucifer sent them here.

Easily speaking, his and Jisung’s role would be to protect you at all costs, considering your father’s current predicament (a.k.a coming under investigation for the bodies discovered in Hanuel Park). Not to mention the countless assassins sent on a daily basis, scouring the property for entryways.

Although he’s not surprised by their hesitance. This man, Yoon L/N, was the closest resemblance to the Devil on Earth.

He was terrifying, and coming from a demon, that said a lot.

Chan has to watch his tongue, because he’s not guarding another one of hell’s representatives, a creature of unprecedented rudeness and hatred, he’s guarding a human.

Someone who falls in love and cries, someone who can’t get away with murder when they’re annoyed and go uncharged.

Humans are pitiful. They’re emotional and too trusting and—

You step down the stairs.

They’re pretty and soft and really, really fucking pretty.

The sound of your father clearing his throat rips him from his trance, your trance.

He can practically sense Jisung choking on his laughter.

“Y/n, these are your bodyguards. Bahng, Han, this is Y/n,” He gestures, and Chan notes the gleaming watch on his wrist.

Best guess that thing’s averaging $70,000. Not to mention that this entire house, though naked to the human eye, is laced in traps.

Whether it’s the more hollow wooden plank on the floor that triggers some alarm or the multitude of switches under your kitchen’s island, the security system is certainly intact, and for good reason.

However, you couldn't have made Yoon L/n’s actions look more hypocritical, appearing so opposingly sweet.

“Nice to meet you,” You hold out a hand.

He doesn’t miss the half-smile you give him.

Shit. Don’t look at him like that.

Introducing themselves, you momentarily slip past, and in your stead, your father beckons either of them to the side.

“I’ll only say this once,” Yoon smiles, but it’s a leery smile, one that causes his gums to gradually show, like it’d belong to a murderer, a serial killer of some kind.

Fitting.

“Get her into danger, hurt her, or disobey my orders under any circumstances and I kill you, understood?”

And even though at the snap of a finger Chan could have this man drop dead, he believed him, both simultaneously nodding their heads without complaint.

Meeting eyes with Jisung, a common denominator sits heavy between them, most likely the first thing they’ve whole-heartedly agreed on this entire time.

This is gonna be one hell of a job.

.. .

District 9’s nightclubs are always a bust. If you’re looking for a drink without it being laced you might as well give up, and the only thing that keeps a person from getting swept away in the expansive sea of high heels, go-go boots, and awkward teenagers that miraculously managed to get past the bouncer is a lone, blinking red sign that reads “OUT”.

The first time you ever came here you never thought you’d be so relieved to open a squealing door.

Leaning against the side of the brick building sits the girl responsible for an entourage of drunk-calls and random texts of her location when she sneaks out.

Her moth-eaten sneakers are pulled up to her chest, bleached hair messily arranged into a spiky up-do while she aimlessly scrolls on her phone. Although you know she’s noticed you by now.

“I feel like..” She sighs, black mascara smudged beneath her waterline. “I should’ve taken that Vodka shot.”

You wrinkle your nose, dropping down on her left.

It’s fairly easy conversing with Ha-joon, a girl who didn’t require a reaction or a response, who didn’t talk much but had a whole pocketful of opinions. And you listened.

She swivels her head ever so slightly toward you.

“Do you think drinking a laced shot will make my life more interesting?” Her remark scarily nonchalant, you chuckle, snatching the joint from between her thumb and index and tossing it against the neighboring business’ wall in front of you.

Unfazed, she rises to her feet, pulling a Marlboro pack from her back pocket, palm cupping the lighter’s flickering flame.

“If you count fentanyl as a good time, then sure,” Lifting your chin to cock a sarcastic brow, she rolls her eyes before abruptly snapping her fingers, remembering. The sound ricochets off trash bags stashed at the furthest end of this deserted alleyway.

“You said your Mafia-daddy hired new bodyguards?”

Ah, you forgot you mentioned that.

Don’t mind the “Mafia-daddy” part.

Nodding, there’s a beat of stillness before she lightly nudges your calf with her shoe, Ha-joon’s sign for you to list some sort of detailed description for her to piece together.

This happens every time you meet somebody new. Her little guessing game before the first impression, apparently.

And so you do, spilling information to the best of your capabilities from the fifteen seconds you met them. Their hair, height, eyes (you recall Han’s especially, huge and hypnotizing like black-holes), clothing, and all the details your jumbled brain can pour out to your overly eager, easily bored best friend.

“So this Chan guy..”

One clever glance and you’re already predicting her next words.

“Does he have a big nose?” Smirk growing the darker your cheeks redden, you pathetically groan, burying your face in your hands.

Of course she’s cornered you, because you can’t deny your yes of an answer without evidently lying and digging further into your self-made rabbit hole.

Leave it to Ha-joon to secretly slip the raunchiest sentence you'll hear all night.

Smugness gradually dissipating, the barely-blonde shuffles back down, phone screen displaying countless messages you don't ask about.

Like earlier, Ha-joon doesn’t talk much, but she has a lot to say. Additionally, if she doesn’t bring it up herself, don’t mention it.

Years by her side taught you that.

“They’re only gonna get you in trouble, I have a feeling,” She murmurs prior to taking a long drag of her cigarette, lipstick shade perfectly contrasting with the soaring puff of smoke sifting from her mouth and nose upon exhaling.

She’s always been on the rougher side. Spontaneously rough, the type that would impulsively send you a text she’s going backpacking tomorrow despite an exam scheduled, the type that would continuously run away on a whim.

In essence, everyone on campus has some sort of crush on her (apart from yourself, obviously), whether it comes down to her rumbling persona or how much of a hard-core lesbian she is, you’re not sure.

You click your tongue, glaring at her flippantly.

“And that’s not doing you any better.” Musing in regards to her bad habits, she laughs lowly, low-rise jeans bagging down by her ankles while bending closer.

Your hands brace in anticipation, coughing when she blows a heavy smoke plume right in your face.

You choke a giggle, shoving her senselessly giggling frame.

“The only thing I’m letting do me is that waitress in there,” Painted nails pointing to the entrance while making utterly obscene gestures, you dramatically gag.

Well, until she spins on her heel, fetching a plastic bag holding two bottles of Cass beer from behind a metal trash can.

You tilt your head, the girl wordlessly cracking one open with her teeth and the other using the junction of her shoulder.

‘A Ha-joon thing’, you think as she hands you a glass, chilled exterior sending an unwelcoming wave of shivers throughout your body.

Your initial response is to decline, but her index to your lips shushes your reasons.

“I know you don’t drink often, but just a few sips just this once, please?” Batting invisible puppy-dog eyes, you sigh, gulping down a haphazard swig.

Last time you had genuinely gotten drunk was back in junior year of high school, all the kids swarmed in a rando’s basement, acting appropriately irresponsible for your age.

You recall your fat crush on Hwang Hyunjin (before realizing he was actually in a relationship) being the main component in getting so drunk that you blacked out, though you’re sure the highly unflattering pictures Ha-joon took would jog your memory.

Yet just a few sips was an understatement, something you should’ve known. Because conversation turns into more conversation, funny conversation, deep conversation while your wrist unconsciously lifts to your mouth till your friend transforms into nothing but a blurry figure illuminated by the moon.

And you wonder, as you feel yourself tilt further and further toward the cement below, if Ha-joon will snap unflattering pictures of this moment too, of stupid decisions leading to stupid consequences.

Most likely.

.. .

"Mmm." You mumble, face stuffed into his sleeve as Chan carries you from the alleyway, ushering a loopy Ha-joon into a taxi with a short bow.

Clad in his work attire primarily made up of black elements, he carefully places you in the back seat of the SUV and pulls off his dark coat to wrap around your body, ensuring you're fully swaddled to secure as much warmth as possible from the biting cold.

"We're going home, so hang on just a bit longer for me." The man assures, patting your head lightly before sliding into the driver's seat and pressing his foot to the gas.

Han, who was sitting in the back beside you while Chan drove, took experimental peeks at the pink-hue decorating your cheeks (evidence that you'd be drunk) to your puffy lips pursed in a pout.

He internally squeals, fiddling with his phone in his pocket, unveiled demon tail practically wagging with glee.

"Hyung, can I? Pleasee Hyung- just one photo she looks so cute–“

“No." The older of them responds sternly, one hand clutching the steering wheel.

As much as he normally wouldn’t care, this was his- their first actual order in fulfilling their duties, and Chan wasn’t willing to pay the price of fucking up Yoon’s guidelines.

His companion huffs, deflating by your side as he directs a childish frown at Chan in the mirror, only met with an equally stern gaze reading "no nonsense".

Chan had always been one to take his job seriously, not that Han didn't, he just liked having a little bit of fun jumping from side to side across those permanent marker drawn lines.

In actuality, if it weren't for his friend, Han would've never gotten the job in the first place.

Stark glowing of your houses’ lights lining the driveway ripped away his thought process, quickly intervening when your door opened.

"I can carry her," He claims, arms crossed while the older bodyguard simply cocks a brow, an action that shouldn't have Jisung shying away like he was.

There's an immense staring contest until Chan releases a hefty sigh, gesturing for Jisung to go ahead.

"If you drop her, I kill you, then myself."

This earns a giggle while Han unbuckles your seatbelt, softly cooing with you lying in his arms.

You're cute, very cute in fact.

Very off limits, in fact, he reminds himself, grip tightening the creepier he pictures your father—and it’s the adorable scrunch of your nose in discomfort that reminds him of his strength, immediately relaxing his hold.

Like Chan said, any wrong moves and they're both off the radar in seconds. Business.

The entirety of it all was a bit hilarious considering how things were when you'd first been introduced to the two, not appearing to be the type to get drunk like this, to get drunk at all in a secluded area next to some nightclub.

Chan wasn’t wrong when he said it’s always a surprise with clients.

Well, he was referring to his hitman job then, but it's still applicable in this situation, right?

…Right?

Forget it.

Slowly, oh so slowly your eyes peel open, instantly noticing the familiar smell and interior that definitely wasn't where you'd been five minutes ago with Ha-joon.

Ah. There he is.

Chan.

Peering over where you're tucked in bed, dressed in pajamas.

Hold on, pajamas?

Scrambling up and simultaneously wincing from the throbbing headache settling a dull ring in your ears, you send him an incredulous stare, face incessantly warming the longer you think about it.

Hangovers provide another of the many reasons why you don’t drink anymore, because this hellish predicament led to a single hellish explanation you certainly didn’t want to face.

"You... My clothes.." Stumbling over how to phrase it, you suppress a scowl watching the ghost of a grin make its way on his lips. Maybe you're imagining it.

One of his veiny hands reaches up to cover his eyes, leaving you to instead infatuate upon plush lips moving when he speaks.

"My job description, along with the papers you read and signed before I was hired gave me consent, but whatever I see is strictly confidential between you and I."

Gathering your sanity, you scoff, humiliation and embarrassment flooding your system at an alarming rate.

Flopping back onto the bed, you slam a pillow over your face, muttering a "strictly confidential my ass" that he had to have heard from the low laugh uttered in reply.

He stalks over, fingertip tapping the water you hadn’t noticed sitting atop your nightstand.

Cautiously stealing a glimpse out from your pillow to see where he distanced himself across the room, you finish the cup in a swift motion, wiping your mouth with the back of your sleeve.

“You huma- You aren’t good with your alcohol, are you?” He starts, quite entertained witnessing your annoyed gaze, one which very noticeably doesn’t stay focused on his eyes.

Sucking your teeth, you slouch, mirroring his crossed arms.

You’re fine with playing feisty, and by the awfully attractive way he’s cocking his head, he’s also willing to join this biting game.

“And what makes you think that?”

“Because I’m never passed out and in need of someone to call for me when I go drinking.”

At this you practically hiss, grasping any futile chance to retaliate to no avail.

Opposed to his teasing nature, he drags a stool to your bedside, insisting you drink more.

Even more opposing, a gentle hand presses to your forehead, checking that you haven't contracted a fever.

To say your heartbeat pounded didn’t credit the surprise to its full extent, and thank whatever God above the experience only lasted a few more seconds, giving you plenty of time to freshen your haywire sensibility and brush your teeth before any more soul-sucking Chan run-ins continued.

You should’ve known better than to think he’d truly leave you be though, said soul-sucking bodyguard currently propped against the bathroom’s door frame.

“How did you get into this anyway? Y’know, bodyguard stuff..” You begin to ask, voice muffled from the toothbrush deterring any fully audible sentence.

He cocks an eyebrow.

“I have my ways.”

“Your ways?”

Within split seconds he’s right next to you, making rather intentional eye contact through the mirror.

You inhale sharply.

“Look, sweetness, my job as your bodyguard is to keep you safe,” He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “And if I tell you, I can’t guarantee that.”

There are three things you realized in that moment.

One, Chan is so, so close.

Two, he has an unfairly gorgeous face.

And three, your mouth is smeared with toothpaste.

Great.

You’d like to admit the first night of meeting these new bodyguards, more specifically Chan, went as normal and as non-Ha-joon-influenced as possible, but this effect on you causing your bloodstream to erupt in a hormonal frenzy of attraction told you the story had just begun.

.. .

"Jisung. Hold. Still! Keep moving and this wand is going in your eyeball."

Three weeks in and one thing after another has lead you closer and closer with either of them, whether it's convincing Jisung to go on ice cream runs (where Chan always ends up tagging along) or attempting to remain focused while they help you study (more like trying not to laugh at Jisung and averting your eyes off of Chan’s biceps in that muscle-shirt of his), the three of you are practically conjoined at the hip, and not on bodyguard standards.

"Okay okay! I was itchy. Can you move the piece of hair by my eyebrow?" He whines, grasping an apologetic squeeze on your waist while you focus in his lap.

You’re currently brushing mascara through his unfairly long lashes, but if anyone saw this without knowing the situation, chaos would likely unfold.

Although for you and Jisung, it's your average Friday night spent watching the weekly scary movie he’d decided on, Insidious. One he’d been commenting on for the past thirty minutes or so about how the “representation of demon’s was wrong” while you absentmindedly agreed, looping your index around the strand before abruptly stopping.

Residing slightly above his temple lay a scar, a decently sized scar at that.

Strangely enough, it's circular, like some type of horn or something had been there at some point. Maybe a biking incident?

"Ji?”

The boy's eyes drift up to you.

"What's this scar?"

Below you, he freezes, frantically thinking up the best excuse.

Lots of options, not a lot of time to decide.

"Ah.. that? When I was younger, I developed a weird kind of bump there, 'had it removed." And thankfully, you grunt a response, resorting back to applying his makeup.

Truth be told, those scars (another you hadn't seen yet) were his old horns, forced to be removed in order to initially land this job.

It still sends shivers down his spine thinking about when they had first been cut off, the recovery process resembling something out of nightmares.

Trust, the headaches were awful.

Chan, on the other hand, could keep his, considering he had the ability to conceal them on command. For Jisung, an inferior red-eyed demon with a few years beneath him and in such desperate need for income, chose the painful way through. As for his tail, that was luckily simple to hide (much to his pleasure).

Nevertheless, you could confidently say that your test-subject could easily land a modeling career after your makeover, and by the way he kept staring at the mirror, he seemed equally as enamored as you.

Well, that’s before a jumpscare leaps upon the screen and either of you shoot up, your clumsy companion whacking himself in the face with the mirror.

Staving your giggles, you try soothing the boy; you really do, but the uncannily gory scene that decorates the screen has you cringing back, and when you look at Jisung, expecting to find him cowering, your blood runs cold.

His lips are parted, but the only thing your horrified eyes are drawn to are the hooked canines peeking there. Not to mention his eyes.

Ghastly crimson, glowing.

Except when you breathe in an unsteady gasp, his head snaps to you, sudden facade appearing unaltered, like you hadn't seen something borderline terrifying.

Softly pulling your face close to him despite the screaming instinct to flee, he observes your bewildered expression, brows taut with concern.

“Y/n?”

Sweet tone contradicting, you immediately double backward toward your bedroom door, awkwardly honing the “I’m going to bed” excuse in hopes that suffices for the night.

Frenziedly closing the door, you determine rather quickly you don’t plan to go to sleep. Not that you think you could, but because this discovery isn’t normal.

None of this is normal.

How they found your location back at the alley despite Ha-joon never contacting anyone, how you “coincidentally” walked in on Chan “washing” his hands despite the water running red. Oh and you can’t forget about the rag left behind, putrid stench characteristic to a specific substance.

Blood.

You weren’t stupid. No father disappears the majority of the year on so-called “business trips” only to come back with new cuts and scratches he makes a sorry effort denying, and no daughter of his has literal bodyguards (yet you’re not sure they’re even official bodyguards thanks to your suspicions) glued to her side 24/7.

He does something dangerous, you know without doubt. But according to this hunch of yours, your father may not be the only one tied up in illegal madness.

.. .

Slipping into the car unknown to them was far easier than you anticipated.

You didn't plan on sneaking in in the first place, sure, but upon overhearing their hushed conversation regarding some type of “target”, you assumed whatever topic they were discussing may answer a select few of your billions of burning questions.

So, crouched in the floorboard of the backseat, you try muting your breathing, noting the clutter of metal sounding from your left, whatever responsible assumed to be shoved in the trunk.

Weapons. No mistaking it.

Your discovery is short-lived however, and you flatten yourself the best you can as Han twists around in his seat to grab something, already thirty minutes into your nearly secret mission.

Shit.

His shocked scream tells you enough.

Chan is fuming.

"Jisung, you told me she was asleep. So care to explain why the fuck she's in the back of the car?"

Han frantically flails. "For the record I told you she was lying down–”

"I. Don't. Care! She's not supposed to be here and all that matters right now is that she's at home and in bed, understood?"

As Jisung's lips pull into a tight line and Chan cranks the gear shift into drive, you glance around, a sudden–though risky–idea coming to mind.

"Hey, I could always tag along?"

"No!" They both shout in unison, heads jerking back to face you as if you suggested driving off a cliff.

That sounded much better in your head anyway.

Well there goes that.

Or so you thought.

Because unfortunately for them, wherever needed them needed them urgently, and through many clearly vocalized “she is staying in the car”’s, you weren’t driven home after all.

Fluorescent green lights cast an eerie glow across the perimeter, the location gnawing at your gut. An equestrian center by exterior, though there’s something else.

Wrong. You can’t explain it, but this place is wrong.

Discreetly unloading the guns, you skin crawls observing Chan messily stuff bullets into the magazine of a M240, the mere size of the thing setting your nerves ablaze. And as rightful asking questions seems, you can’t.

That feeling from earlier glues your mouth shut, like if you spoke too loudly, someone, something, would find you.

Thick foliage lay highlighted by your headlights, paving depth into sequential darkness.

You squint, zoning in on a small expanse of branches ajar. An ideal hiding spot.

Wait.

Bright flashes of iron spur your legs into motion, the switchblade cleaning slicing your wrist while mid-duck.

It forks into the car’s interior where the trunk had been opened, your cry of pain muffled by Jisung who basically throws himself inside a stall with you, the stomping of horse’s hooves muting your ragged breathing.

Firing belonging to none other than the machine gun Chan had been wielding pierces the air outside as either of you stay pressed to the stable wall, the pad of footsteps drawing nearer, causing your eyes to squeeze shut.

This is it. You’re going to die.

Much to your relief, it’s Chan, tactical holsters slightly torn, sweat beading his forehead.

The two share a look, remaining silent before delivering an eventual, affirming nod.

Short-lived.

An additional attacker sifts from the shadows, facial expression ushering no other logic than to kill.

Manic eyes, estranged eyes.

The older bodyguard spins, successfully blocking the first hit. Supplies are scattered everywhere, horses beginning to shift uncomfortably.

The perpetrator is faster, smaller, and lands a decent punch into his abdomen. However, the attack is futile, and just before he can stake his knife into Chan’s leg does the bigger man utilize his own weapon, ammunition positively bludgeoning every square inch of the assailant in baited seconds.

You understand why machine guns are strictly used for long range now.

Immediately, soft numbness floods your senses due to Han’s hands covering your eyes and ears, and you sit there for a while, blocked from the grotesque view of impalpable violence being enacted right before you.

You’d forgotten you were huddled together on the other side of the wall, too horrifically immersed.

It's strange. So much is strange.

These two men that you've grown effortlessly close to, grown effortlessly friends with, murder. Defensively in this case, yes, but they hadn’t brought those guns by chance, they brought them by intention.

Not just a twisted hobby like dissecting animals or something along those lines, but murder.

You’re sure they have their reasons, but it's difficult even imagining it. People who are extremely gentle when with you, responsible for such doings.

Talk about a duality.

The faint clatter of gun shells rattling against the marble flooring earns a subtle flinch, Jisung's hands cupping closer to your skin.

Then you smell it, what he'd warned you of no matter the cleanliness of the job.

A metallic, burning scent of blood, causing your nose to burn and your throat to grow increasingly dry.

Your stomach churns.

"You don't forget that smell" Chan had said before leaving the vehicle, and you knew what he was referring to now.

Putrid reek of rot and gunpowder beckon your lungs into fight or flight, but you remain still, ignoring the sharp sting of your wrist, bubbling blood dripping down your arm and onto the floor below, right atop your shoe.

Faint falling of bullet shells put an end to the fighting, then you’re blindly directed out the door without so much as a glance behind you. For your own good, you assume.

Hell, you’re not certain they’ll be much left of the bodies after Chan’s wrath.

As for right now, your top priority is your wrist. Swollen, skin tainted a grueling red shade.

Speeding home, you find yourself blurily recalling events, though all the little details simply swirl into strange shapes.

Shock is what it’s called. That state of monotonous wandering, occurrence too unfamiliar to take in, senses turning off. A coping mechanism of some sort.

Blearily you see the two men, talking, stepping out of the room, grabbing medical supplies. Like you’re in a time warp, dreaming. No pain, hurt.

On the other hand, your bodyguards were frantic, spewing curses and scouring the household for proper first aid materials.

Meanwhile, Chan was finally wrapping your wound in the bandages Jisung spotted, blinking madly in hopes his fogging headspace eased up.

Demons and wounds were not a good combination. Especially not human wounds.

Uncontrollable urges instructed him to tear you apart right this minute, do something, anything to quench that inexplicably demanding thirst.

Vulnerable, easy prey. His thoughts chanted, forcing him to step out of the room for a moment to where Jisung perched, close-pin fastened on his nose to block the mouth-watering smell.

“I’m losing my fucking mind,” He heaves, carding stressed fingers through matted hair.

“What, a little blood getting to a white-eyed demon?” His companion muses, hastily dodging Chan’s swinging fist. Immune to his threats.

It’s obvious to Jisung that’s only half of the story, but he’ll wait for his superior to admit it himself.

“It’s not just the blood,” He inhales deeply, gratefully accepting the water Han offered. “It’s her.”

Go figure.

To be honest, Jisung wasn’t good at pretending.

Well, in terms of lying he was a natural (a given, after all), but pretending he hadn’t caught onto his friend’s enormous attraction to you was technically impossible.

Quite surprising though, to think such an arrogant demon would’ve ended up like this.

Susceptible, willing. For a human.

Who would’ve thought.

.. .

It’s nothing short of a roller coaster regaining your stable consciousness. Chest wracking, world spinning. You’re situated in bed, injury carefully wrapped(though you can’t recall by who).

The doorknob rattles, and in walks Chan, except, you don’t feel happy, relieved.

Scared. You feel extremely scared.

“What- What are you?” Waver revealing your anxiousness, you curse the subtle tremble.

He smiles.

“Aren’t you a perceptive little one,” His voice dips lower, and as he edges closer, you find yourself pressing further into the pillow behind your head.

“I’m sure you’ve had your suspicions, so I’ll make it easy for you.” He lifts his curls, two perfectly placed horns residing there.

“We’re demons. He and I are different species, but both demons.”

Demons.

Instantaneously, a tidal wave or realization crashes salty water into your lungs, expertly piecing your observations together. Red eyes, horn-like scars.

How had you not caught on earlier?

Momentarily, you meet his eyes. Still brown, although you wonder how deep of a red they’d stain, glaze over stunning vermillion or dusky cinnamon tones.

“Species?”

He hums.

“Red-eyed are the best at persuasion, that’s Jisung. I’m a white-eyed demon.”

So neither crimson nor cinnamon, you decide. Perhaps pale, opal color.

“White-eyed demons are usually Satan’s lap dogs, but what lots of people don’t know,” You crane forward to hear his next words, and he leans in as well. “Is that we’re also the most desired species, the most lustful.”

Lustful.

The words don’t truly sink in, and by the time they do, it’s impossible to rip the mischievous look from his eyes.

"What’s that supposed to mean.." You grumble, avoid his darkening stare.

A subtle tap on your thigh has your attention immediately shfiting, your entire body instinctively jolting.

"You want me to show you?" He begins with a laugh, a low, husky laugh that has your stomach tying knots. Not the usual, squeaky laugh, but one that's different, very different. "But if you say yes, I’m sure no one else can satisfy you the way I can."

Your expression pinches with annoyance, a bit offed by his sudden cockiness.

Granted, he looks heaven-sent despite being a demon, and you doubt he'd be any different in bed, but c'mon now, you have a right to be suspicious.

"And how're you so sure of that?" Leaning back on your arms where he sits in front of you, you fixate on the way kinky locks perfectly line the crown of his head, one particularly messy strand tipping over to linger above chocolate pools for eyes.

"Sweetness, Jisung are I are carved out of sin, there's not a particle in our body not built to fuck."

God. Hearing "fuck" come out of his mouth shouldn't have been that attractive. Chan had always been well-mannered, well-spoken, so to hear him say something vulgar for the first time, nonetheless "fuck", effected you more than you'd like to admit.

Slowly, oh so slowly he crawls on the bed, kind tip of his head betraying sinful intent.

“You want this?” He whispers, and your arms immediately wrap around his neck, tugging him into your lips fervently, needily, with a short nod of approval between sighs and stifled groans.

Your wrist aches, but from how heated this kiss is becoming, that matter is the least of your problems.

He feels like fire, tastes like it, nectarine on your tongue.

You waste nimble time undressing, suppressing a high-pitched mewl the longer he sucks deep purple love bites into your neck and down your collarbones, likely to be bruised tomorrow.

He’s careful, learning your body, your sounds. Touch light as a feather, not enough.

He’s big, that’s a given. Head red and angry with thick beads of precum apparent, you can’t possibly think straight, his name the only sensible word falling off your swollen lips.

Chan Chan Chan.

Brows knitting as his fat head bumps your entrance, you murmur pleas, practically delusional on his pleasure, his love.

Most desired, you understand what he meant by that.

“Feel good? Yeah? That's a good girl."

You can feel your entire body keen at the praise, utterly blissful from how amazing he was making you feel.

The stretch of his fat cock has your common-sense threading dangerously thin, head falling back, fingernails raking his back. Delirious.

When he actually started moving? Yeah, you’re convinced you paid a visit to cloud nine, fucked-out brain recognizing only the squelch of your bodies connecting and the squeaky, absolutely desperate sounds he’s pulling from your throat.

Not to mention his voice, accent thickening tremendously the longer he ruined your drooling cunt.

His, his, his.

"Shit- you feel fuckin' divine," He kissed the sweaty skin of your calf hiked over his shoulder, ankle held by a strong hand while the other occupied your hip, squeezing and kneading with each heavy thrust.

Chan wasn't lying about being carved out of sin, fucking like an absolute animal to the point tears began welling in your eyes, overstimulated and euphoric beyond belief as your hands shakily reach upward.

Obediently, he lowers himself, letting you hold his face for some sense of security while feeling so vulnerable.

You pathetically search his eyes, head thrown back after one particular roll of his hips that earns a rumbling moan from the man.

Each time he bottoms out it feels like you're losing it, rubbing that gummy spot that makes your heels dig into his shoulders and your moans transform into high-pitched cries, shuddering.

"Channie- Oh fuck Channie- I can't It's too much-"

Practically gasping for air to ease the buzzing fuzziness blinding you, you cherish the equally mind-numbing kiss he soothes, pressure in your lower tummy building and building at a flying pace.

"Yes you can, bunny. 'Need to cum? C'mon, cum for me, 'atta girl." He tuts, slowing himself down with each squeeze of your cunt signaling your approaching release.

Torturous.

Nothing like this, never in all his life had he felt something like this. So delicate and fragile as you look up at him, glossy dolly eyes far too tempting.

At this point it was an obligation to stuff your pussy full.

Rolling your puffy nub in tight circles, your thighs twitch, gripping the pillow behind your head like a vice as the sharp knot in your stomach finally snaps and a near pornographic sound rips from your throat, back arching off the bed.

The sight of you has his eyes nearly rolling back, so ruined and angel-like. You're a white rose in a field of wilting grasses. Bloomed in his ill-fated fingertips.

His pants stifle, big hands holding the back of your thighs spread for him. His pace stutters, and with a gritted whine of your name he slams his hips, painting your aching cunt white.

The last thing he anticipated visiting the human realm was to find himself in this situation.

And whether he liked to admit it or not, if the Devil had your father wrapped around his finger, you had him tied up without a chance of escape.

So while you both scrambled to clean up your evidence and not fall over your own feet hearing Jisung clumsily drop a clattering frying pan in the kitchen, he thinks, if only for a second, he’d be okay with it.

Being yours, that is.

FIC TAGLIST. @y-ur--i @atinism @darknova2319 @producedbyhanjisung @knightoftime21 @leonswifesstuff

sunboki, may 2022 ©

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analbedo · 2 years ago

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📔 that boy’s a liar ft asshole virgin killer jock bf childe

ngl im having Bad Childe Thoughts™️ sorry he’s such nonconner bait like skskfkkdks. also this was not supposed to be this long sadly i just got too silly wit it >_> also it’s been so long since i wrote i had to keep looking words up to make sure i used them right asksjdjsk i was staring at my phone for like 10 minutes bc there’s no way sinisterly is a word �� anyway.

i could easily imagine him being, like, an asshole jock, probably plays some rich boy sport like lacrosse 😭 and every time the school year starts he’s always looking for another cute freshman to fuck. he had a thing for virgins, and no one was more virginal than a fresh out of high school girl, eager to find her first boyfriend, completely oblivious to the nature of men. (well, really, men like him.)

𐐪 warning: this fic contains dark content, please read my dark content disclaimer before continuing. minors dni.

🦢cw: virginity kink, dubcon/sexual coercion, noncon/rape (both implied and explicit, the word rape is also used), misogyny (i’m sorry women🥺), emotional manipulation, unhealthy relationships, unconsensual nude sharing, degradation, unconsensual creampie-ing (is there a better word for this?), hair pulling, mouth spitting, contraception mention⁉️

° 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 nsfw below the cut! 𐐪 ♡ 𐑂 °

and that’s what led ajax to you, the bright eyed, overly naive barely legal cheerleader. most cheerleaders were too slutty for his tastes, but he could tell from the innocent way you swung your hips and nervousness around guys that you’d probably never had a boyfriend, let alone sex.

bagging you was too easy, he almost felt bad for you. he’d barely finished inviting you to one of his games when you’d excitedly accepted. afterward, him convincing you to go to a frat party later that night was child’s play (no pun intended). from there on, you were putty in his hands. ajax had no real intentions of dating you, you were a bit too innocent for his tastes. but, when you offhandedly mentioned you were saving yourself for “the one” (seriously?), he realized he had no other choice.

nothing really changed after you made it official, you still went to his games and parties with him, and sent him nudes that he was definitely sending to his friends’ groupchat. ajax, the notorious virgin killer, and his new victim. the general consensus was that you were the hottest one he found, which was an accomplishment, but his friends teased him for how long it was taking for him to smash— “you’re losing your touch there, casanova” kaeya texted him after he updated the chat on his latest date with you.

ajax rolled his eyes, but it was true. you were really not trying to give it up, even if you were blackout drunk, slurring your words at parties, even when he lit candles and set out rose petals for your one month anniversary, even when he said he’d never tell anyone. nothing was working, and he was starting to get annoyed. nutting on you face, tits, and ass wasn’t cutting it; if anything he was starting to get more and more sexually frustrated. he wouldn’t force you, he wasn’t that type of guy, but damn it if he wasn’t running out of ways to try to convince you to let him actually put his dick inside you; he’d even settle for just head at this point.

ajax reached his breaking point one night after a game. his team won the championship finals for their division, or something, which meant they had a solid chance at playing to win the state title. surely, he deserved something for that. so, when you invited him over to celebrate after, he was expecting more than you just surprising him with a homemade dinner after his shower.

“that’s it?” ajax asked, looking in disbelief at the table, his voice gradually growing louder and meaner as he spoke. “you fucking cook for me all the time, why the fuck would you think this is a surprise?”

you felt your heart sink a little bit; you’d put way more effort into it than your usual dishes, and you thought he’d might like a nice, fulfilling dinner after working so hard. ajax had little outbursts like this all the time, but he assured you that’s just how relationships are, and who would give up a tall, handsome, perfectly sculpted redhead athlete just because he’s a little temperamental.

you remained quiet; usually, this is where he’d apologize and say he had a bad day, or was tired. but, his tirade kept going.

“we’ve been together three fucking months and you’re still acting like the same boring virgin bitch as when we started dating. i thought for once you’d stop fucking neglecting me and finally fucking put out.” ajax reached up to run a hand through his damp auburn hair, his towel slipping down ever so slightly as he did so. you felt your face grow warm in embarrassment and desire. you wanted to wait, but him borderline flashing you sent butterflies down your stomach to between your legs.

“i’m sorry,” you said meekly, genuinely meaning it. you tried explaining how scared you were to do it for the first time; stds, pregnancy, or having your cherry popped, which you imagined would be more painful than it sounds. ajax always gave you the same responses, that he was clean, he’d pull out, he’d be gentle. you had no reason to deny him, really, you saw a future with him; and, if he’d dated you this long without having sex, you imagined he’d want to be with you forever once you said yes.

but still, something in your body was telling you to stop, leave, run. as many butterflies as he gave you, there were still cold claws of dread and fear dragging in your chest at the thought of sleeping with him. “i’m just not ready yet, baby. i’m sorry.” you replied, unable to meet his eye.

that was probably a good thing, because the look of disgust he casted would’ve been enough to make you break down in tears. “not… ready?” ajax asked in an angry low timbre. “you’re a fucking adult, for christ’s sake, what the fuck do you mean you’re not ready? it’s fucking sex, not a marriage proposal.” he huffed incredulously, running both hands through his hair now while throwing his head back. he turned away from you, finally allowing you to lift your gaze from the floor. staring at his back, you realized just how muscular your boyfriend was— and tall too.

if he really wanted it, he could easily take it. you wouldn’t stand a chance.

the thought alone made your throat swell and eyes prick. you never thought he could be that kind of guy; and if he is, wouldn’t it be better to just let him do what he wants? maybe he’d go easy on you if you said yes now.

“everyone else on the team is probably getting ass at that after party, and i’m fucking stuck here playing house with a childish ass bitch,” ajax groaned. his words felt like punches straight to the gut; you instinctively held your abdomen in response. he turned around to you, his face now free of anger, but full of… something. you didn’t know what, but it was sending shivers down your spine. “you know, this is the longest i’ve ever gone without having sex,” he said in a neutral tone, slowly walking around the table to approach you. you winced as he lifted your chin up, bringing his face uncomfortably close to yours.

“look at me,” ajax said softly, but sinisterly. you forced your tear filled eyes to meet his, but not without trembling in fear. “you’re neglecting me, you know. isn’t it a little unfair to deprive me of intimacy, when i’ve been doing everything i can to make you comfortable? why are you so scared of me, hm? why don’t you trust me?” you merely blinked in response; if you talked you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold back sobbing. “i don’t neglect you, do i? is there anything you want that i don’t for do?” you pondered the question; though he was rarely ever nice or this soft spoken, he had a point— physically, he’d given you all the cuddles and forehead kisses you could want.

still, that wasn’t the same thing as having sex? or, was it? who’s to say he finds cuddling as intimate as lovemaking? maybe sex was to him what cuddling was to you— maybe you were neglecting him. you shook your head softly in reply.

“good girl, you’re right. i’ve done everything i can to prove you can trust me, does that not matter to you? will i never be good enough for you?” ajax’s voice sounded sincere, but the cold, perverse look in his eyes still made you doubt. “i’ve been so patient, baby. i could’ve taken it any time i wanted, but i waited for you. you gonna keep me waiting forever?”

something about his logic wasn’t quite adding up to you— but, it didn’t matter. your brain was too clogged with fear to compute anything. plus, he confirmed what you tried so hard to not acknowledge all along: if he wanted you, he could have you, whether you wanted it or not. your heart thudded in your chest.

you felt guilty for depriving your boyfriend for so long, but that was overshadowed by your fear of what he’d do to you if you kept kept saying no. “ok,” you whispered meekly, so soft you were surprised he even heard it.

or, maybe he didn’t. it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

ajax smiled, though this time his grin of approval filled you with cold terror instead of giddy excitement. “i knew you’d do the right thing.”

***

“shouldn’t we use condoms?” you asked. you were sitting on your bed, wrapping your naked body with your fuzzy pink blanket. maybe you were as childish as he said. the more you thought about it, the less you wanted to do it, but, it was too late mow.

“they’re too small for me, but, don’t worry, i’m clean. can’t let an std fuck up my lacrosse career, you know?” ajax said casually, walking towards the bed.

“no, not for that. i meant for- i mean, like, i’m not on, like, birth control or anything—” you stammered.

“oh that’s fine, i was gonna pull out anyway. can’t let a baby fuck up my career, either,” he replied, chuckling at his own joke before giving you a light peck. “plus, you’re too hot to knock up right now, it’d ruin your body. i’d save that for after you’ve already hit the wall. anyway,” he said sliding back on the bed and leaning against the wall. “come here princess, i’ll show you what to do.”

you turned around and crawled toward him, sitting back on your heels. his comment about your body momentarily snapped you out of your fearful haze; were you really about to give it up to such an asshole?

ajax twirled his finger, motioning you. “face that way, towards the door. and get on your hands and knees”

“like this?”

“perfect. now—” instead of giving instructions, ajax put his hand between your shoulder blades and pushed you down roughly. “you’re gonna stay like that.”

it was kind of humiliating being in such a lewd pose; you’d always imagined your first time would be passionate missionary sex, not getting your back blown out. ajax shuffled behind you on the bed; he was taking his boxers off.

“okay, you ready? i’m gonna be honest, it’s pretty big, and it’s gonna hurt a lot before it starts to feel good, alright?” ajax said as he positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips as he slowly dragged the tip of his dick against your vulva. “just keep taking it, though,” he said, lowering his voice for the rest of his sentence: “i didn’t wait all this time just to get blue balled.”

ajax lined himself up with your hole, and you sucked in a breath as you felt the slight pressure of his tip on the outer rim. you winced, scrunching your face as you prepared for him to actually go in.

sadly, nothing could’ve prepared you for that type of pain.

“fuck— ajax stop, no, it hurts— it hurts too much—” you cried out, practically screaming.

“tch. stop being so dramatic, i’m not even halfway in,” ajax paused his speech as he pushed into you further, eliciting a yelp. the searing pain was almost enough to render you unconscious, and, god, how you wish it actually did. “it’ll hurt less once you’re used to it. relax, for fucks sake. the more you panic the more it hurts.”

you wished you could heed his advice— but, then again, what does he know? he’d only ever inflicted the pain, never received it. there’s no way he could comprehend how horrific it felt being split open, your body resisting every inch but still being made to take it. the pain came from between your legs and in your head, too, the few fleeting thoughts you had besides how much it hurt questioning how he could put you through this, if he really loved you, he knew you weren’t ready.

you abandoned speech altogether, merely sobbing as ajax continued to push his thick cock inside you.

ajax paused again. “crying’s only hot if i can see it. shut the fuck up, you’re killing the mood.” when you didn’t stop sobbing, he grabbed you by the ponytail, jerking your towards him so he could mutter in your ear; the shock was enough to shut you up, at least momentarily. “i swear i get soft ‘cause you keep whining like a bitch, you’re gonna suck it til it’s hard again, and i’ll make sure it hurts a whole lot fucking worse.” he let go of your hair, your body flopping limply back onto your bed.

you took a deep breath, biting down on your arm to silence yourself, and prepared for the worst.

ajax was angry now, and, being the cause of his agitation, he happily took it out you. you bit down so hard you could’ve sworn you drew blood as he continued to shove his cock inside you; his thrusts were rough, it felt as he was tearing you open. just as your brain grew delirious with pain, you felt one final shove before the warmth of his body was against your ass.

“there, that wasn’t so bad, was it, baby? i don’t even think you’re bleeding,” ajax cooed. you were so beat down you couldn’t even speak, but he didn’t really need a reply; he didn’t care how bad it was for you, because it was perfect for him. “but i know you’re still a virgin, or, were a virgin, ‘cause you’re so fucking tight.” he moaned as he held your hips and pushed into further, somehow managing to get even deeper. this caused a new type of discomfort; less of the searing torture of him going in, but a nonetheless dull, aching pain in your lower abdomen.

“fuck, you feel so good, pussy’s gripping me so tight like it’s made for me. think i just hit your cervix, too.” ajax’s hands traveled from your hips to your ass, massaging the soft flesh on either side. “you’re so fucking hot, i could probably cum just from this.”

panic became the new sensation that took you over. “but you said you’d pull out,” you cried, trying a last ditch attempt to crawl away from him.

ajax easily held you against him again, and sighed in annoyance. “i said i could, not that i would, stupid slut. you’re the last girl alive i’d knock up; who’d wanna spend 18 years with your annoying ass?”

tears returned to your eyes; is this really how he viewed you? was this entire relationship just a ruse to get in your pants?

well, it didn’t matter, at this point. he was already there, and wasn’t leaving until he finished. you had no choice but to take it.

ajax clicked his tongue before gently sliding out of you, barely an inch. he showed no mercy thrusting back into you, though, making that dull ache resonate again. he slowly pulled out again, leaving only the tip inside.

“damn, you’re pretty wet for a bitch that says she doesn’t want it,” he sneered. ajax slammed his dick back inside you; strangely, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the first time, minus him hitting your cervix. “but virgins are all the same,”ajax continued, picking up the pace at which he rutted into you. “you pretend you don’t want it to ‘cause of your purity bullshit, but the second i’ve got you bent over you start creamin’ on me like a porn star, can’t help yourself.”

the pain of him sliding into you was gone at this point; you could only feel the drag of his cock against your walls, rubbing against a spot that made ecstasy shoot through you. even the ache from him going too deep started to feel pleasurable. you couldn’t help but moan as waves of euphoria washed over you.

“yeah, you like that, baby?” ajax purred, before sending a sharp smack to your ass. he chuckled hearing you moan at that, too. “damn, you’re a masochist, too? didn’t think a pure little princess would be such a whore in bed.” he slapped your ass again, before reaching around to grab your neck and pull you towards him and titling your head back so he could look into your face. “bet you’re sorry for making me wait, huh? fucking tease,” he snapped, before spitting into your mouth. “swallow it.”

you did as you were told, disgusted by the feeling of the warm, foamy liquid landing in your mouth and sliding down your esophagus. he let you go, and you fell again back onto the bed. ajax placed a large hand on your back, pushing you down into the right position.

“keep your back fucking arched,” ajax scolded. with one hand pressing you into the sheets, and one firmly grasping the softness of your hip, he rutted into you, harder, and faster, each thrust sending shots of pleasure and pain throughout your whole body.

“ah- ajax- slow- fuck- slow down, ‘ts too much- too fast-i can’t—” you moaned, drooling onto the sheets. it felt so wrong, letting him do this to you, with all the awful things he’s said and done— but, you couldn’t help how good it felt taking his dick, every movement adding to the euphoric build up that made your body limo and head dizzy.

the intensity of pain and pleasure increased as he leaned over to hiss in your ear: “you’re gonna take what i fucking give you., slut.” ajax pried open your jaw, and shoved two long fingers into your mouth. “i’m tired of listening to you moaning, i wanna hear you gag for me, princess.” you choked around him, his digits pressing the back of your throat. “yeah, just like that, baby.”

the feeling of his fingers being pushed down your throat as he panted in your ear, while still not letting up on his rapid thrusts was all too stimulating; you felt your body tremble as you came, tranquillizing euphoria spreading your body like electricity. you could vaguely feel your pussy flutter around ajax’s dick, involuntarily clenching around him.

“fuck, you just got so much tighter— ah, wetter, too,” ajax moaned in your ear, burying his head in the crook of your neck and shoulder. “fuck, baby, i’m so close, feels so fucking good—” he cut himself off with his own panting, desperately chasing his own release.

it took you a moment to register his words in your post orgasm haze, but you quickly snapped to attention once you did. you jerked your head to the side so his fingers were no longer massaging the back of your tongue.

“wait- ajax, you said you’d pull out—”

“god, i know, i will, now shut the fuck up before you ruin it,” he groaned. his hands moved to yours, pinning your wrists down while as rhythm grew sloppy.

“ajax, please- you said you wouldn’t, cum inside me— please— please don’t don’t—“ you plead desperately.

“shut up, bitch,” ajax spat. “i know what im fucking doing,”. “i’m not gonna nut inside you— fuck— just need a little more—ah”

“please don’t,” you whispered softly; you were almost certain ajax wouldn’t risk cumming inside you— his reasoning was sound, but there again was that feeling of chilling dread as he kept messily rutting into you.

“fuck, ‘ts so good, so fucking wet— ah” ajax panted, indifferent to your reminders. his speed slowed, now more pronounced pounding. “fuck, fuck, i’m sorry baby, it just feels too fucking good, i can’t— ahh”

you screamed for him to stop, but it was too late; you could feel after his final thrust a warmth inside you, spreading deeper into your core as he wrapped his arms around you. “ajax, stop it— get off— let me go!” you screeched, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.

“sorry, princess, ‘ts too late now. shit, there’s so fucking much, too,” ajax sighed, pushing into you even harder. “fuck.”

nothing could describe the disgust you felt, trapped under your boyfriend’s sweaty, toned body as he forced you to take every last drop of his cum, shamelessly draining his balls inside your limp body. you knew you had to worry about pregnancy or an sti, but those were far from your mind.

the only thing you could think about is how bad you wanted to die.

ajax finally released you, getting off the bed and searching for his clothes. once free, you immediately crawled into a fetal position, tears pooling from your eyes as his cum drooled down your thighs.

epilogue

“sorry about that, by the way,” ajax said nonchalantly, as if he didn’t basically ruin your life. “it’s been so long since i last had sex, i guess i forgot how to pull out in time, so it’s kind of on you for making me wait.”

you said nothing; as humiliated as you were, you couldn’t risk more embarrassment by actually responding to him.

“hey, so, there’s still an after party going on, so i think i’m gonna check that out. you don’t have to worry about coming though— shit, sorry— attending, i know you probably have some shit you wanna work through right now. soooo,” you heard his footsteps head toward your bedroom door. he paused, as if he was waiting for a response, but eventually you heard him leave your room, head out the front door, and drive off. you laid on your bed, curled up in shame, for what felt like an eternity, until the loud text alert from your phone jolted you out of your catatonic state. it was a text— from ajax, surprisingly.

hey. left you a apology gift on your table. hope it helps.

you threw on a bathrobe and shuffled miserably back to your dining room. the elaborate feast you made was embarrassing to look at; all that effort just to get borderline raped by your boyfriend for his special night. you saw the gift he must have been referring to: a wad of bills, that, when you counted them it amounted to $65. you read the messy scrawl on the accompanying note:

enough for a plan b ♡

#tw noncon #tw dubcon #childe #childe smut #childe x reader #genshin smut #tartaglia smut #ajax x reader #<- damn how many names this mf got like ⁈

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wintersera · 1 year ago

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rockstar!winter x f!reader

notes: completely self indulgent as you will be able to tell from all the screaming- i’m blaming that clip… drove me insane LIKE ACTUALLY INSANE

cw: dom winter, sub reader (OMG SURPRISE), daddy kink, is calling reader a ‘whore’ degredation? it’s also not proofread i just wrote this on autopilot-

word count: 0.8/0.9k i forgot….

showing up to your girlfriends performance for the first time ever was going to be the death of you.

the lights were dim, loudness of the bass shaking your skeleton? you didn’t even know that could happen. it was a bit overwhelming for you because honestly... you weren’t even into rock that much even though your girlfriend is a rock genius.

it was definitely worth your time. seeing the spotlight shine on her while she plays with her guitar. and in all seriousness you didn’t really give a shit about the music AT ALL. your focus was completely on her fingers, the way she was tapping and strumming the strings had you in a trance, and oh my! you’re panties are soaked through.

you didn’t even last one second into the song thag was playing, all that was in your mind was her fingers, oh my god her hands, her fingers should be in me right now, i want her fing- yeah…

“baby you did so good on stage” running to the back of the stage. you just couldn’t wait anymore

“of course, you were there. i had to put on the best show for my girl” standing there with sweat dripping down her face. “did you like my guitar solo? dont tell my fans, but i practiced it just for you”. your girlfriend, minjeong, was so sweet. the main guitarist of the band aespa and the hottest person to ever cross this universe. whatever you did in your past life must be crazy to bless you with such a fine ass girlfriend.

“no one is in this room right?”

“what are you implying y/n?”

“oh nothing, i just wanted to say that you looked so hot on stage daddy” seducing her by slipping the string of your top down your shoulders.

not expecting that, she dropped everything she was holding right at that moment and cornered you. locking the door just in case one of her bandmates decide to waltz in. “oh don’t you dare start this now. not with those skimpy ass clothes you're wearing” now you knew wearing a mini skirt and a tight top would do you justice even tho your ass was so cold waiting outside the venue 😭, and well today you couldn't help being turned on, seeing your girlfriend work her guitar with her skillful fingers on that electric guitar had your pussy throbbing.

“turning me on after my performance, oh my baby is such a whore for me” hiking up your skirt to reveal you pretty much soaked thong “and you’re wearing a thong? all dolled up for me? you’re so kind” tugging the thong that rubbed your clit all in the right ways.

“a-anything for you daddy” god you turned her on so much. she just wanted to fuck your pussy so hard rn, and thats what she’s doing 🤭 pumping not one but three fingers into your sopping wet hole while she messily makes out with you, her tongue dominating over yours with ease. the noises you were making were anything but holy, thanking the interior designers for the very good choice of making the room sound proof because god, you are literally screaming out her name, moaning, groaning, literally all the noises are coming out of your slutty mouth. and if the noises coming from your mouth weren’t enough to show that she had you wrapped around her fingers (PUN NOT INTENDED) your wet pussy definitely showed. sticky, wet sounds were definitely escaping out of you. oh my god she was making you so unbelievably wet, your juices literally spilling all over the floor coating her hands and dripping everywhere on your legs.

AND SHES NOT FINISHED WITH YOU, breaking your kiss to make you face the wall and bend over so she can see your pussy in full view!!! her licking your lips before she fully makes out with it. licking and sucking so violently on your clit it makes you squirm and buck your hips into her face, while also shoving her fingers back into your pussy, slamming them into you without any mercy. it doesn’t really take that long to make you cum, with the whole build up during the concert you were pretty much standing there in awe on the verge of cumming JUST BY SEEING HER PERFORM?? she’s so rough with you but that's how daddy minjeong likes it anyways, seeing you turn into her personal sex doll and treating you as such as well, slapping your ass as you're bent over like a whore, repeating to you that she’s “your daddy”. she would open the door to show the entire crowd her lovely baby being finger fucked with a stupid slutty fucked out face, but she’s overprotective like that you know.

when you finally, cum it’s so violent yet so so so good. legs shaking, BODY SHAKING, you’re on the verge of blacking out as you’re hitting the walls screaming “daddy- ah, daddy m-minjeong your fingers feel so good” biting down on your lip as you feel the ecstasy course through your entire body.

of course once you’ve had the most craziest orgasm of your life, you fall to your knees.

picking you up she just smiles at you, kissing you on the lips then whispering in your ear “let’s continue this at home”

#wintersera #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #aespa x fem reader smut #aespa winter smut #kim minjeong #fem! reader #kpop smut #girl group smut #gg x reader #kpop girl group smut #girl group x reader

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emberfrostlovesloki · 11 months ago

Text

The Cherry on Top [Hotch x Reader]

Photo credits: Center Left (@bau-bitch02) (@agentdilfhotchner) Right (@thyme-in-a-bubble)

Prompt: When the reader gets drugged on a case, she inadvertently tells Aaron about all the dreams she’s had with him. He then has to decide how he’s going to move forward with information that leaves him needy and wanting of the reader.

Pairing: Aaron x fem!BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns

Category: angst/smutt

Word Count: 16.7K

A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. Content Warnings are below the cut. Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The prompt this was based on was “Characters decide to try something new in the bedroom.” I wrote this fic specifically for my friend @tgskitten who always gives me such encouragement! ILY. I also want to shout out @silk-spun for reading all my snippets and hyping me up SO MUCH! This is a slow burn to smut and I hope it brings you as much joy as it did me. I had a lot of fun writing the smut scenes and I hope the build-up is worth it (pun intended). If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

Content Warnings: Death by overdose [victims of unsub], drugging [reader], misogyny/sexism [slight], hospitals, sex [fingering (reader receiving) p in v (Hotch and reader) oral (implied reader)] dom!Aaron/praise kink [slight]. Use of pet names [love. Kitten, my girl].

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/c/e_’s = your color eyes

_c/t_ = coffee or tea

_y/c/e_ = your color eyes

_y/l/n_ = your last name

_y/h/t_ = your hair type

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

Aaron had been on over a hundred cases at this point in his career. He thought he had seen just about everything there was to see on a case. That was until the BAU headed out to New York City for the new case. In a city of 8.4 million, something big had to happen to get the attention of the massive police force or other authorities in the City that Never Sleeps. The eclectic death of eight people due to an ecstasy overdose in the dance club scene in the Bronx was strange enough to have the NYPD baffled and get the BAU involved. With over fifteen clubs covering the area, the police and other local law enforcement did their best to canvas the area, but had yet to find anyone. Similarly, finding the distributor of the drug was just as difficult for the New York Drug Enforcement Task Force due to the large amount so illegal uppers and downers that were handed out, bought, or stolen in the club scene every week. The team had debriefed the case in the conference room, gone over the lengthy victim’s list, and boarded the jet. During the short hour-long flight, the team tried to throw as much out on the table as possible. JJ and Emily were looking at the victims to see if there were any connections. Rossi and Aaron were thinking about priors while Emily thought about the varieties that the profile was showing and trying to cut any unnecessary leads or possibilities. Lastly, Spencer and _y/n_, the newest addition to the team, were looking at a map of the area where the attacks had taken place so far. The young duo also looked at similar clubs in that borough to see if there were connections in the locations. The pattern seemed to be that the first three attacks had happened in a cluster at the center of the club scene moving outward. There had been only one death at each club so far. Whether this pattern would hold was unknown, but so far it seemed like the unsub was staying consistent. Therefore, Spence and _y/n_ tried to think of the best place to canvas first. The duo debated the size of the clubs, the atmosphere, and the pricing to get into each establishment. They needed to narrow down the choices to four clubs so that the team not waste any time once they landed. The team tossed the proverbial ball around the cabin of the jet. Whenever any of the small groups needed a fresh perspective they would ask the other members of the team for their perspectives. This was one of the things that _y/n_ loved about the team. There was a fierce focus on each of the subgroups, but when help was needed or an important fact was noted, it was shared with the group. This way the team was up to date with everyone. The communication with the team always kept _y/n_ on her toes. It was like watching a basketball change hands midway across the court. One such example was when JJ said, “Just a reminder that the last two victims were underage. Jessica was nineteen and Lina-Lee was eighteen-years-old. Aaron and _y/n_ looked over the JJ and both said, “Got it.” Though it might seem like a curt response, there wasn’t time for extra words or thank you’s at the beginning of a case. At the start of a case, it was all thinking caps and coming up with a practical plan. That being said, the information was useful to both groups. Aaron turned to Rossi and softly said, “So the unsub doesn’t care about age. They’ve killed people ranging from eighteen to thirty-one. Rossi nodded and stated, “So it’s less likely that these killings are meant to target any certain group. Revenge becomes less of a factor and psychopathic tendencies are more likely.” “Right,” Hotch said as he added two more names of previous killers that better matched the new information. Similarly, _y/n_ and Reid started to look at clubs that seemed to have a reputation for letting in those who were below twenty-one.

_y/n_took a moment to look over the team. She was still surprised that she was here. Her hard work and dedication in the academy, plus an extensive amount of research on the BAU and criminal behavior had gotten her here. It didn’t hurt that Director Strauss had suggested to Aaron that he, Rossi, and the whole team find someone new to train after Gideon’s abrupt departure. She didn’t want the team to be caught off guard like that again. Like most things, Aaron was hesitant about the idea. However, he realized the practical need for what he had called, long before _y/n_ joined the team, a “spare” member. Hotch knew that sounded callous, but the dynamic of such a tight-knit group could so easily be tipped off balance by the edition of someone new. Because of this, he was less than enthusiastic. Nonetheless, some soul needed to be chosen. When word got out that the BAU might be looking to expand, the transfer requests came tumbling in. Hotch, JJ, and Rossi all looked over the files. Any of the agents were already well up the FBI ladder. Aaron said no instantly. “Too big personalities,” he’d said. There there hundreds of underqualified individuals. Rossi said no to those too. After a week of the search, JJ said in desperation, “Why not pick a N.A.T or a probie? I don’t think either of you is going to find what you want in these candidates. Hotch had balked at the idea, but Rossi, on the other hand, said, “Listen, it’s not a bad idea. We could build them from the ground up.” Hotch ran a hand through his hair and said, “We’re talking about a person here, Dave, not a dog.” Rossi shrugged and said, “Well I don’t think it’s a bad idea. Who was the one N.A.T. who had the gall to ask about the position?” J.J. handed over the file which Dave looked over. Aaron wasn’t convinced to try anything so unorthodox until he’d had about a half dozen failed interviews with other, older options. Finally, Aaron had given up and went with Rossi to watch the N.A.T.s during an exercise. _y/n_ had stood out clearly as having street smarts and practical know-how on the test case. When Rossi asked the instructor about her. It turned out _y/n_ had been the N.A.T. who had inquired about the position. Of course, the BAU hadn’t replied to her inquiry about the team, it would be bad form, but now that they were there, it didn’t seem like the craziest thing possible. After that, _y/n_ was kept under close observation by the BAU without her knowing. When the last month of the course came around, Aaron asked to meet with _y/n_. That conversation and what he was potentially offering her was the most stressful thing _y/n_ had ever been through. And when _y/n_ graduated near the top of her class, she got the placement of a lifetime, of a million lifetimes. There was praise and bitterness from her classmates, and _y/n_ took both in stride.

_y/n_ moved her eyes back to the map, as she almost got caught looking at Aaron for too long. It was hard for _y/n_ to believe that that had been over a year and three months ago that she joined the team. She had grown a great deal since then, but _y/n_ was aware that she still had growing to do. She was on the most accomplished team in the FBI. She’d be learning for the rest of her life from the team. Even though _y/n_ had been on the team for some time, she still stayed a bit reserved. In some ways, she doubted herself and considered that she might be removed if she made a big enough mistake. She also was aware of the dynamics of the team. She didn’t want to ruin what they had. Even so, _y/n_ had slowly integrated into the team. Learning s about each member. _y/n_ found herself drawn to Rossi, Emily, and Aaron most. There was something about their stoicism that resonated with her. Perhaps it was because they stayed the most quiet like her. That didn’t mean that _y/n_ didn’t want to know about them, in fact, it made the trio more interesting by their nebulous nature. _y/n_ was most interested in Aaron’s mercurial nature. He seemed to shift from hot to cold in an instant. But he was the best reader of emotions she’d ever seen. He seemed to know what she and the team were thinking even before they thought it themselves. _y/n_ knew, this was why he was the leader. Because he was so good at profiling people. _y/n_ tried to stay away from him, even a year later. That didn’t mean that she wasn’t interested, or more than slightly infatuated with him. However, _y/n_ had seen far prettier and talented women throw themselves at him and fail. She was not going to be one of them. _y/n_ felt a warm set of eyes on her form. She looked up ever so slightly to find Aaron’s brown eyes looking back at her. _y/n_ felt that flustered, stomach-tangled-in-knots type of feel that she had to walk out. _y/n_ cleared her throat and told Reid, “Gonna grab a c/t_, Spence? You want one?” Spencer smiled and said, “Sure, thanks.” _y/n_ stood, to get the drinks. She made sure to add, “I’ll put about five hundred sugars in yours.” Spencer let out a laugh and said, “Hey, Morgan gets to tease me about the sugar thing, but you put sugar is yours too.” _y/n_ rolled her eyes with a soft chuckle and moved to the back of the plane.

Hotch followed _y/n_ with his gaze. He had doubted the idea of having someone so inexperienced on the team. As it turned out, _y/n_ absorbed information like a sponge. Not only that, but she was willing to take critiques and grow from them. And heaven knew the first few months were filled with corrections and critiques. A weaker person would have dropped out. _y/n_ hadn’t. He had garnered respect for her for that. Not only respect but some admiration, as _y/n_ threw herself head in on cases that even the team was turned off by. Her sense of moral right and wrong seemed unshakable. It was rare to see that in a new agent. He wondered what had defined her code of ethics to such an extreme. In time, he hoped she would tell him. Aaron suspected that as quiet as _y/n_ was, she had picked up a lot about the team. Her silent observations he caught her in sometimes were both respectful and thoughtful. She never stared at anyone too long. But when she looked, she really looked. Like she was trying to solve some complex puzzle. And what was more complex than the BAU? Aaron couldn’t deny that when he felt her _y/c/e_s gaze on him, it didn’t elicit something in him. That hadn’t been something he’d felt originally, but it, whatever it was, had grown with time. The small or big feelings both Aaron and _y/n_ were harboring for each other would be blown wide open on Friday night.

The plane landed in NCY, and the team was instantly hit with five o’clock rush hour traffic. It took them a decent forty minutes to get to the precinct in the Bronx. It was Wednesday, and so far the murders had happened on consecutive weekends starting on Thursday to Sunday. If the pattern held, this would give the team one day to canvas the clubs before the weekend when another attack might occur. When the BAU did arrive at the station, they were met the the large hustle and bustle and chaotic energy. The precinct was so big it had little mini departments in the space, and for once there was room for the BAU to spread out and work without feeling cramped or in the way. _y/n_ looked around slightly overwhelmed. This was one thing that Aaron had noticed about _y/n_. When things were incredibly hectic he could see _y/n_ trying to overprocess everything at the same time. Hotch knew that not everyone was Reid, Not everyone could just take everything in all the time. Due to this, Hotch stepped closer to _y/n_. Whenever he did this, it seemed to ground her. He could tell that she paid more attention to him than her other surroundings when he was nearby. He would stick around _y/n_ until she had calmed down and the new environment became more relaxed. He didn’t do this to baby her. It was like when he told Morgan to calm down or Reid to stay on topic. He understood his team needed guidance and help now and then, and he was there to provide it. However, Hotch was not so stupid to not understand the effect he had on _y/n_. But that, like his growing feelings for _y/n_ was something he ignored. He knew that if he gave into those desires for his newest agent, he’d be like a man starved of affection. That was because he was a man starved of affection and he didn’t think _y/n_ needed that in her life right now. Once the team was in the room the department had given them, Hotch said, “Morgan can you close the door?.” As he said this, _y/n_ felt him move to her left. _y/n_ took in a very small, hopefully unnoticeable breath. The fact that _y/n_ was so drawn to her boss was concerning. But he seemed to get her better than some of the other members of the team. He always seemed to know when she needed a hand or a moment to decompress. _y/n_ appreciated this because she had been so unsure of her at the start of her journey at the BAU. How he acted around her now reassured her that he had some level of trust in her performance and contributions to the team. She had worked her butt off to get to this place and it was affirming to know it was paying off. _y/n_ took one second as the very slight scent of Aaron’s cologne drifted her way, as he set his file on the table near her. _y/n_ considered how Aaron’s affirmation was probably part of what made Hotch so attractive, She such little of that in her daily life that any was lapped up with a greedy desire. Albeit very much under the surface. _y/n_ would never say how even the hint of subtle praise from him made her knees weak. There was no time to interrogate that thought as Hotch said, “Alright, we need to put all our facts together, build a sketch of a profile, and then get a plan in place for the rest of the day. Everyone nodded along and started getting ready for a second debrief that normally happened once the team landed.

A half-hour later, after starting a profile, the teams split up into smaller groups. Aaron and JJ were heading to see the families of the victims to see if they could gather more about the victimology and build out the profile that way. _y/n_ and Derek were headed to the bars where the first four deaths had happened. They hoped to see if there were any details the police had missed and profile the staff at each establishment. Lastly, Emily and Spencer were headed to the hospital for more details from the coroners. Hotch and Em’s group took cars, but _y/n_ and Derek decided to walk as the nearest club was about a twenty-minute stroll away, and taking a car would just waste time. The first two clubs gleaned little information as the first two victims hadn’t died on the property's premises. The first had died at her girlfriend's house, and the second had passed in his parent's house. Both were found deceased the next morning. However, the third victim had died in the parking lot of the club she had been dancing in. The team expected that the dosage of drugs was increased for a faster death. Where the first two clubs had let _y/n_ and Morgan in easily, answered all of their questions, and showed remorse at the deaths that had happened, the third club, Club Rio, held a different atmosphere. The bouncer, a big burly man sighed once he saw the two professionals and asked, “Cops, Reporters, or others?” Morgan stepped forward saying, “FBI.” _y/n_ and Derek flashed their badges and the man’s eyes went wide in surprise for a second. He sighed and said, “Well at least it’s something different. Dan is getting annoyed by all the feds.” The man stepped aside and let them both into the building. As _y/n_ passed the man, she asked, “And Dan is?” The man replied to her back, “Owner.” _y/n_ nodded and followed Derek into the den.

_y/n_ was always surprised by just how small some club spaces were. The dance floor was just a small square with tables and couches in raised areas around the stage and a sunken floor. _y/n_ reflected that when she had been in her clubbing days, she had been inebriated, the writhing bodies around her had seemed normal and comforting even. Being surrounded on all sides, the other bodies had been like a buffer from the rest of the world and the loud music. Now that this case had come up, _y/n_ realized how vulnerable she had been on those occasions. How easy it could have been to take advantage of her, even if she thought he was being safe. With that somber thought, the duo approached the bar. The barista mixed drinks for the four early patrons. She looked at them and asked, “How can I help you?” Derek replied, “We need to speak to the manager or Dan if he’s here?” The bartender said, “Okay, give me a minute, Dan’s in the office upstairs.” It was clear the woman was so used to grabbing the owner at this point that she didn’t even ask to see any credentials. She slipped out from behind the bar, opened a door, and walked up a set of narrow stairs. Morgan leaned against the bar and looked over the space. _y/n_ was doing the same and a bright pink poster on the wall caught her attention. She moved over to it and realized it was outdated. It was from the night that the third victim had been found dead. It was an advert for A Barbie-themed night at the club. The poster didn’t match the dark interior at all. That was why it had stuck out. All the other posters were also for themed nights in the past and future. Rave Night, Emo Night, 00’s Night. Something clicked in _y/n_’s brain as she realized there might be another pattern here. Before _y/n_ could say anything, a lean, scrawny man emerged from the door with the barista. The man approached Derek and said, “What other questions could you possibly ask me that everyone else hasn’t already?” _y/n_ watched Morgan shift his weight from one foot to the other trying to decide if he should be stern or just take the flippant tone. As usual, Morgan just took it, through _y/n_ knew if pushed too hard, Derek could be provoked into a reaction. Morgan just said, “I’d like a list of patrons ID’d for the night that Sandra Klare passed.” Dan stilled, knowing that they didn’t card, saying, “Well our card reader is down right now. It might be a few days for us to get back to you, Mr…” “Morgan,” Derek offered. _y/n_ had moved closer to the pair and said, “That’s okay, just send it to us as soon as you can. You could also send over the security camera footage from inside the building and any from the back or parking lot.” Dan’s eyes snapped over to _y/n_ and then they took a far too long looking her over. His eyes rested on her chest as he stated, “Sure, I can get you those tapes, along with a drink if you want, miss…” _y/n_ cut him off and said, “It’s Agent, and I don’t drink of the job. Now tell me, how many minors do you think you let in every night because it’s clear to me that you're not carding which is a violation of state law.” Dan’s eyes snapped back up to her face, and he replied snappily, “You have no proof of that.” Derek scoffed and said, “Great, then you’ll have those ID lists over today. Now if you’d show us the spot where the victim was found, we’d appreciate it.” The next half hour was a bit tense and Dan glared at the FBI agents who looked over the space with a calculated eye.

When the team regrouped, everyone shared. JJ and Aaron had discovered that all of the victims had been mostly wallflowers. Kids and adults who kept to the background and wouldn’t normally be found in a club. Some of the parents and friends of the victims were shocked to find out those closest to them had died at or near a club. None of the victims had taken drugs before to their knowledge. This added a new angle to the type of people that were being targeted. Spencer had found that the dosage of ecstasy had been increased with each case, which was why the first few victims had died at home or outside of the club, and the last few had been in the parking lot or in the club itself. Emily said, “The unsub is escalating their kills. Probably because knowing someone is going to die isn’t enough now, they need to see the chaos that it causes. Morgan and _y/n_ shared last, noting how hesitant the last club was to give information. Derek added that the only places that didn’t seem to have cameras were the restrooms, but in a busy club, someone could get drugged anywhere. It was at this point that _y/n_ shared a theory saying, “I think there might be a pattern with the clubs that the unsub was picking each night.” Hotch looked over at her and said, “What is it?” _y/n_ averted her gaze from his and said, “Themed nights. The day the third victim died was a Barbie-themed night, and the second was an Emo Night I think. That might be why the victims were willing to go to the clubs in the first place. A normal club night might not be appealing to them, but if they were playing music they liked or had something that drew them to the club they might be willing to go.” Hotch nodded and said, “It’s a possibility.” He slipped his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed Garcia. He put her on speaker and when her chipper voice said, “You’ve reached the queen of fun and sparkles, how may I help you today?” Hotch held out the phone, and _y/n_ took it saying, “Penelope, can you get a schedule of themed nights at the clubs in the Bronx? Can it go back two weeks and then up through this weekend as well? Also, see if they match up with the dates of the first eight deaths?” Garcia’s classic long nailed key tapping ensued for a second before the tech said, “Give me one second, baby girl.” There was an anticipatory minute before Garcia said, “And the winner is _y/n_. Every night that a victim has died so far was a night with a club that was hosting a theme of some kind. Those often draw a younger crowd. I’m emailing over this weekend's schedule for the clubs that are hosting theme nights as well.” Hotch nodded and took his phone back, saying, “Thanks, Garcia. You’re the greatest.” The warm reply of “No good Sir, You are the greatest. Garcia out.” The subtle warmth that _y/n_ saw in Aaron’s eyes was rare, but when it was there, _y/n_ wished it would last forever. That he’d look at her with that kind of affection.

Rossi pulled her from her thoughts when he said, “We’d better give a profile now. If we hurry, we can get to some of the clubs before there’s a huge rush. We’ll need some officers to cover the other clubs that are on Garcia’s list.” Everyone agreed and moved outside to the main part of the precinct. Aaron called for the Chief of Police, Officer Jason. After delivering the profile and making a coordinated plan, the BAU was on the move again. Spencer had calculated the most likely clubs to be hit. Given that Rossi and Aaron were a bit too old to look natural in a club environment, they both decided to stay in support vans near the two clubs the BAU would watch that evening. Meanwhile, Emily, JJ, and _y/n_, and Spence and Derek would all be mic’d up and scout out the two clubs of premium interest. It was simple for Derek and Reid to get ready, just changing into simple t-shirts and jeans. Morgan added a leather jacket over his white shirt. But for the women, it was a bit more of an ordeal. Given that the victims were probably really into the theme nights, they wanted to match the victim's previous behavior. The subsub seemed to target women more, so it was more likely that they would go after Em, JJ, or _y/n_. The club that Prentiss and JJ would be scouting out was having a hippie-themed night, and both women sported bell bottoms. JJ added a headband and Emily found a crochet vest to wear. _y/n_ meanwhile was headed to a rave-themed night and needed a hand getting the complicated top on over her cropped long-sleeved shirt that covered everything that the over-shirt didn’t cover. As Emily tied the last of the bows at the back of _y/n_’s irradiant star top, she asked, “Did y’all ever imagine when you joined the FBI that we’d be playing dress up on a Thursday night?” JJ laughed at the statement and _y/n_ said, “Not that it didn’t cross my mind, I’m just more surprised that this precinct has these clothes on hand. You don’t think they’re from people that have been detained, do you?” Em dropped her hands and looked at _y/n_ when she turned and said, “Who knows? But the NYPD is the biggest police force in the States, maybe they bought them just in case of an occasion like this?.” _y/n__ nodded and looked over her colleagues and had to let out a small laugh saying, “Look at us.” JJ smiled and said, “Look at you _y/n_. You still pass as a college kid.” _y/n_ flushed and said, “Well it’s a blessing and a curse. The owner of one of the clubs today spent all day looking at my tits and ass. It’s not something I love. Gotta love being a woman in the FBI, right?” Em and JJ nodded. They’d all had their share of bad experiences being ogled by cops and citizens alike. The three of them moved out of the locker room they had all changed in.

Aaron, Rossi, Reid, and Morgan all looked over to them, along with the other plainclothes officers who would be scouting out the other clubs. The policemen were not as good at hiding their reactions at the lady's entrance as the BAU men were. Aaron took a moment to look at his watch to stop the flush on his face from becoming more prominent. He knew _y/n_ was a lovely woman, and her outfit only highlighted that fact. Again he reminded himself of the restraint he needed to have as her boss. He didn’t let his mind go there. It was 9:30 p.m. and the rush at the clubs was likely to start at 10:00 p.m. Hotch cleared his throat and said, “Alright, let’s head out. Remember, we check in every half hour, and if you see anything suspect, let Rossi or I know.” The agents nodded their agreement to the plan. The two teams split into their vans. Aaron was going to be overlooking Emily and JJ, and Rossi would take Reid, _y/n_, and Derek. Rossi dropped the trio off two blocks from Club Noir so it wasn’t obvious that undercover agents were present and looking over the club. This was _y/n_’s first time in an undercover position and she was thrilled and terrified at the same time. The inside of the club was so loud that the three of them had to scream to indicate which part of the club they would look after for the first half-hour shift. The trio had planned to change places after each check-in with Rossi to make sure they kept up with the flow of traffic and that nothing slipped them by. Derek’s first shift was by the bar, trying to notice if anyone seemed to be slipping drugs into the drinks of the patrons. Spencer was taking the outer perimeter of the club, looking at the groups clustered around tables and talking more leisurely, and _y/n_ took the dance floor. The sea of bodies felt claustrophobic and hot. It was hard to look at what was going on with those dancing. The looks of euphoria on the faces of the dancers who were so absorbed in the music were disturbing. It was hard to tell who might be under the influence of drugs and who wasn’t. _y/n_ strategically moved around the floor to try and get a good look at everyone there. This was hard work, and by the first half-hour check-in, _y/n_ was exhausted. She found her way to the back of the building near the bathrooms where it was less crowded. The team checked in with Rossi with nothing much to say.

The rest of the night seemed to go well until one a.m. when _y/n_ heard a scream come from the dance floor that pierced above the music. It was Derek’s time on the floor and the music and dancing came to an abrupt halt. By the time the lights were on and _y/n_ made it to the center of the floor there was a small crowd gathered including Spencer. Once _y/n_ saw the young woman on the ground seizing, she called 9-1-1 immediately to report the situation. Reid was talking to Rossi over comms and within moments cops were in the building and cordoning off the area. Derek was trying to get the woman into the recovery position. Meanwhile, _y/n_ was trying to calm the woman who had found the victim. The lady seemed almost as distressed as the woman on the floor. _y/n_ wondered if she was on any substances herself or if this was just shock. _y/n_ leaned down and said, “Hey, hey, I need you to take some deep breaths for me. Just calm down.” The short blond-headed woman nodded and tried to regain her breath. After a few minutes, _y/n_ pulled the woman aside to a cleared area of the club, _y/n_ flashed her badge at the woman and said, “What’s your name? Can you tell me what happened?” The woman sniffled before saying, “I’m Jeanie, King. I was just dancing and I noticed the woman next to me seemed to get agitated. I tried to talk to her but she seemed so absorbed in the music. I thought maybe she was okay, so I kept dancing, but when I looked over at her again she was on the ground. No one else seemed to notice, and a guy almost stepped on her face so I screamed. I didn’t know what else to do.” _y/n_ nodded and said in a reassuring tone, “You probably saved her life.” Though _y/n_ said this with sympathy, she was very weary of the woman in front of her. Jeanie seemed too composed after what she said. Her story too ordered. _y/n_ got the woman a glass of water before moving to help with crowd control as the paramedics and the other half of the BAU arrived. She stepped close to Hotch and he looked down at her asking, “What happened? Did you see anything? Derek and Spencer didn’t seem to pick anything up. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I didn’t see too much apart from the bartenders pouring heavy shots and some guys being handsy. I went to the lady's room a few times but there wasn’t anything suspect going on in there apart from a couple hooking up in one of the stalls.” Hotch nodded but could see that _y/n_ had more to say. He waited for a second before _y/n_ said, “The woman that noticed there was someone in trouble, something about her feels off.” _y/n_ looked over to Ms. King, and Aaron followed her with his eyes. The woman that _y/n_ was looking at was calmly sipping a glass of water, and he could tell why his agent might suspect the woman. Hotch moved his eyes back to _y/n_’s and he said, “Call Garcia and ask her to search the woman’s name. Let’s see if something comes up. We’ll be here all night anyway clearing everyone to go home.” _y/n_ nodded, pulled out her phone, and moved to call Penelope.

Aaron had been right about how long it was going to take. There were over ninety people in the club and every one of them needed to be searched, questioned, and then let go. Even with a lot of officers involved, it wasn’t until six forty-seven a.m. before everyone had been removed from the club. Three minors had been arrested for underage drinking, and five people were arrested for possession of drugs. One older man had ecstasy, but it was in pill form and not the liquid form that the hospital had identified with with first victims. Everyone was exhausted when they got outside. The scent of liquor lingered on them all, and Hotch said, “Let’s get two hours of sleep and then we’ll debrief after that. He could see the exhaustion in everyone’s eyes, and he felt it in his own. The team silently left the club to the hands of the police officers. As _y/n_ stopped at the door, she turned around. The club, with all of the overhead lights on, looked like the end of a play with all the props and litter still on the stage. The stagehands were too exhausted to pick up any of the trash post the last show. Red Solo Cups and beer bottles dotted the tables and floor. The scene looked sad now. It was hard to believe that hours earlier people had been so careless here. A deep voice called _y/n_, and she turned her head. It was Hotch. He stood in the doorway, bathed in the rising sun. It took a moment for _y/n_ to register that he’d asked if she was okay. _y/n_ shook her head ever so slightly to clear it of the fog and exhaustion before moving toward the team Leader. She tried to smile and said, “I’m fine. Sorry. Just thinking.” Hotch gave a small nod and kept the door open until she was outside and trailing Morgan down the road to the vans. He watched her retreating form. _y/n_ had taken off the potentially revealing top that had caught his eye the moment she had left the changing room with Emily and JJ. She was now wearing a jacket on top of the long-sleeved shirt she was wearing. He had beaten himself up on the van at how captivated he had been when seeing her in such an outfit. He knew he’d ordered her into it and the fact that his restraint was that weak eat at his morality like rust on iron. Hotch often asked himself if he was a good man. And _y/n_ seemed to push that question in a direction he had never considered before. He let the thought drop, and he moved to the van as well. He made sure not to get into the car with _y/n_. He needed a few moments to think without her face or soft voice digging deeper into his psyche.

The two hours at the hotel were short lived with most members of the team taking a shower and then getting a bite to eat. As the team ambled out of the vans, _y/n_ took a second to stretch her arms and roll her neck, outside the precinct. She didn’t want to seem unprofessional in front of the officers. She didn’t want to seem unprofessional with the team either, but the ache in her arms and neck needed to be alleviated somehow, and she didn’t see anyone ready to give out back rubs at the moment. _y/n_ let out a soft chuckle at the idea and Emily asked, “What are you laughing about?” It wasn’t an accusation by Prentiss. Emily knew that _y/n_ was taking this case as seriously as all of them were. But everyone needed a moment of levity, especially after a new victim had been found. _y/n_ dropped her arms and said, “Oh just thinking about how my clubbing days are way behind me. Dancing for two hours last night was so hard on my feet, I’m gonna be sore for a week at least.” Morgan chipped in saying, “Well at least you looked natural out there. Did you see Reid?” At that, Em, Morgan, JJ, and _y/n_ had a small, good-natured laugh at Spencer’s less-than-coordinated dancing ability. ‘Hey,” Reid said, “It’s not my fault there’s not a good rhythm to that music.” The playful banter subsided as the team moved inside. Hotch was the last to move into the building and for a moment, he felt left out from the ability to just laugh and joke around like the rest of his younger agents. He knew it was stupid, so he let it go like he let most small things go in his life. In the room the team had taken over, the group moved around restlessly talking. Emily said, “Honestly, we could have had a hundred police officers in our club and someone might have still died.” _y/n_ nodded along and said, “Our team had a good system. We were constantly monitoring and checking in and someone still died.” Rossi could hear the frustration in _y/n_’s voice and chipped in, saying, “The problem is, the clubs are the killers hunting ground. Unless the unsub starts killing elsewhere, that is the most consistent thread we have.” Aaron added, “What makes it difficult is the amount of people we have to try and profile, and the fact that the ecstasy is given in liquid form. It could be slipped in someone’s drink, or shot up, or given in a load of other ways and the victim might not know until it’s far too late.” The Chief of Police, who was unhappy with the BAU’s performance so far had joined them and said, “Well we could end this right now by closing the clubs for public safety for a few weeks.” hotch nodded his head no and said, “That’s not going to do any good. If you cut off the unsub's normal pattern they’ll likely move to another space and we’d have to rebuild the profile again. Either that or they just wait until the clubs open up again. Both ways result in the unsub continuing to kill people.” The Chief of Police raised his hands and asked, “Would he just give up after a while?” Morgan looked over to the man and said, “No. This person needs the validation that killing gives them. The feeling of power or control.” Officer Jason sighed and said, “Well what do we do going forward? Tonight’s the busiest night the clubs see, and although a killer is on the loose, people are still flocking to them.” Hotch looked at the man and the with authority he held, replied, “We use the profile. We add the new data, speak to the latest victim, and keep looking. The unsub has to know that we’re onto them, especially after last night. We, or one of your officers likely met them. So they’ll probably change something tonight, or get sloppy. We can add more officers in the clubs which will push them even further.” Jason nodded and said, “Won’t that mean that it’s more likely that someone dies?” Aaron nodded but said, “It is, but that’s why my team is here. To make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

The rest of the day passed by slowly. Spencer and _y/n_ went to the hospital to see McKensie, the latest victim. The pair were led to the back of the hospital. The woman had previously been in restraints but had settled down after receiving specialized care by the hospital staff. _y/n_ sat down next to her bedside and said, “McKensie, can you tell me what you remember from last night?” The woman turned her eyes to _y/n_ and Reid and said, “I don’t remember a lot. I didn’t take anything intentionally I swear. I just like the music they play on rave night. I just felt hot all of a sudden and the lights started acting funny and I got so hot. Before I knew it, I was on the ground and I couldn’t move.” McKenzie closed her eyes before saying, “My mom’s gonna kill me when she finds out what happened.” _y/n_ smiled sympathetically and said, “I’m sure she’ll understand. Thank you for speaking with us, McKensie.” Spencer stepped forward and set his card on the table saying, “If you remember anything else, please give us a call.” The woman nodded and the pair left the room. Outside of the hospital, Spencer asked, “Why would you keep going back to a place where you know you might die? Why take the risk?” _y/n_ looked at Reid. What she was thinking might rub against his problems with drugs, and she was hesitant to speak her mind. Reid could sense this and he said, “You can say what you’re thinking you know? I see you hold back sometimes on the jet or a case. But your thoughts are useful, or at least they let us think about things from a new angle.” _y/n_ looked at him and replied, “Thanks for telling me that Spencer. What I was thinking was that whenever anyone takes drugs it’s putting their lives on the line. That risk is worth it to them until they realize what it might mean. I understand that feeling. It’s just terrible that that choice was stripped from the victims.” Reid nodded and said, “Do you think the unsub is a user?” _y/n_ shrugged and said, “I don’t know. If they’re as calculated as we think they are, then I don’t think they can be.” Spencer nodded and they kept talking about the case until they arrived back at the precinct.

The sun dipped below the tall buildings. and the team got ready to go out again. Penelope had developed a new list and Aaron hoped that the unsub wasn’t going to change their pattern now. He did decide to change who was with whom in each club. The team was canvasing two clubs like last night. One was bigger and the other was smaller. Aaron assigned JJ, Derek, and Spencer to the bigger club with Rossi. He, Emily, and _y/n_ would take the smaller club. Rossi suggested that he and Aaron also go inside the club with the team. Dave said, “Listen, if there are already going to be lots of officers in uniform there we might as well be there too.” Hotch couldn’t argue that logic and agreed. He knew that he and Dave would be more useful to the team inside than out. Because everyone was going in, they all took a few minutes to get dressed. Everyone was a bit more reserved that night. The themes were Disco night and Emo night, so all it took was bright or dark colors. The team was more somber this time, especially _y/n_. The prospect of going undercover again just didn’t have the same rush as last night. Aaron, Emily, and _y/n_ all entered Club Drake at staggered times. Aaron decided to get to the highest spot he could that would give him the best look over the space. He found a dark corner and leaned back with a beer in his hands that would never get touched. Emily took the first shift at the bar and _y/n_ moved onto the dance floor. Everyone looked for anything that matched the profile. Someone young and confident. Someone looking to prey on those that showed vulnerability or stayed in the background. The strobe lights overhead made it hard for _y/n_ to see much else than the pulsing bodies around her. If _y/n_ looked hard, she could see Aaron in the corner of her eye, but she avoided her gaze because it was hard enough to dance and look for odd behavior while also dancing and not looking like her body was aching from the effort. Meanwhile, Hotch watched from above. He could see the club almost in its entirety. He understood now how hard it had been for his team last night. No wonder they hadn’t been able to see much. Aaron tried to pinpoint his members in the swell below. He could find Emily easily, she was hanging around the bar and hallway to the bathroom. It was harder to pinpoint _y/n_ on the dancefloor, but when the light was slightly brighter between songs, he caught a flash of her moving her body to a beat so loud it hurt his ears. He could see she was talking to someone on the floor, but there was no humanly possible way for him to hear the conversation. The song changed and a man seemed to approach _y/n_ She seemed to nod and then they began dancing to the new song close together. Closer together than she needed to. Hotch had to drag his eyes away. He knew _y/n_ knew what she was doing, but seeing her so close to so many people put a pit in his gut that he felt when things were stressful. It didn’t help with his heightened feelings for _y/n_. But he had a job to do, and he was going to do it to the best of his ability and no unwanted feelings were going to get in the way of that.

The night continued on and on with Emily and _y/n_ changing roles twice and Hotch brushing off a few people asking him if he wanted a drink above the din of the music. They continued to check in with each other. Despite their careful watch, no one stood out to the team or the police officers who had been briefed on what to look for. _y/n_ moved from the floor to the bar. To look convincing, _y/n_ went to grab and drink. When she got to the front of the line, _y/n_ quickly scanned those sitting and watching the football game and the hallway to the bathroom. She had passed Emily as they swapped roles and Prentiss nodded her head no, indicating that she hadn’t seen anything. _y/n_ returned the gesture. _y/n_ snapped to the present when the bartender said, “What do you want sweetheart apart from standing there in a daze?” _y/n_ cleared her throat and said, “A tonic with cranberry juice, please.” The man nodded and grabbed a tall glass, filling it with ice. The man sitting at the bar said, “You not drinking tonight, babe? You should lighten up or something.” _y/n_ shot him a frown but an oddly familiar voice said, “He’s right you know. You looked just as fake on the floor today as you were last night.” _y/n_ whipped her head around to try and find who had spoken to her. It was hard to tell with the crowd, but a short blond-haired woman was moving quickly toward the back exit and _y/n_ swiftly wove her way between those waiting in line and those dancing. Agent _y/n_ stumbled out of the exit almost out of breath. She looked down the dark alleyway but saw no one. But who she was looking for was behind the door, and when the heavy metal door swung closed, _y/n_ found this out. Jeanie, who had found McKensie yesterday said, “You do need to loosen up, Agent,” as she stepped forward and plunged a needle into _y/n_’s neck. The move had happened so quickly that _y/n_ took a second to push the woman away from her and pull the needle out of her neck. _y/n_’s eyes flashed to the empty syringe and then to Jeanie. She tried to move forward, but the ground seemed to sway a bit. _y/n_ looked at the unsub and said, “What did you give me?” Jeanie smiled maliciously and said, “Well nothing that bad yet. Just relax a bit and I’ll give you something really fun in a minute. _y/n_ tried to get away but fell over her feet and onto the pavement. The world was spinning and once she was on the ground, she tried to pull for her coms. The unsub watched as _y/n_ helplessly and openly took out a mic from her shirt. The woman leaned down and stomped on the device, smashing it to smithereens. _y/n_ watched helplessly as Jeanie pulled something from an inner pocket and said, “I think we’re going to have some real fun tonight.”

Inside the club, Aaron had lost track of _y/n_ when she and Emily had switched places. He didn’t see her anywhere and it was starting to bother him, but it was only five minutes until they would check in and he was sure she was just checking the lady's room or something. He continued to look around until his watch hit 12:30 a.m. He switched on his coms and checked in with Prentiss. He could see her look up at him for a second from the side of the bar. She said, “Still nothing. At least it’s not so busy right now.” Hotch nodded and said, “Okay, well keep a look out. I haven’t seen anything from here either.” He took a breath and said, “Have you seen _y/n_? I lost her a few minutes ago at the bar.” There was a second of static before Emily said, “I don’t see her. Have you tried her com?” Emily was looking at him now from down below and he shook his head no. Aaron switched to _y/n_’s channel and he asked, “_y/n_, are you there?” There was only static. Hotch tried twice more, but there was still nothing. _y/n_ wasn’t one to miss a check-in. Even though there was no direct reason to panic yet, the bad feeling Hotch radioed Em again asking, “Could you check the lady's room? She’s not answering.” Emily shot him a nod and moved toward the bathroom. Hotch continued to scan the area with no luck in finding _y/n_. Aaron now kept his eyes trained on the hallway to the bathroom hoping that _y/n_ would emerge with Emily. Maybe even with that small smile, she gave him on the rare occasion when she knew no one was looking at her but him. That wasn’t the case, however. Five minutes later, Prentiss returned alone and said over the radio. “She wasn’t in there Hotch. I don’t know where she would have gone without telling us.” Aaron clenched his jaw and looked over the dance floor again. Something seemed to be off in the center of the floor.

Amid all the dancing people a lone figure, a familiar figure stood transfixed, looking at the lights coming from the ceiling. “Aaron called Emily and said, “I found her, but something’s wrong. She’s in the middle of the floor, but she’s not moving. See if you can get to her. I’m coming down.” Hotch moved as quickly as he could away from the corner and down the stairs without causing a scene or a panic. Hotch and Em got to _y/n_ about the same time. It was clear to both of the agents that something was wrong with _y/n_ immediately. _y/n_ was swaying to the deafening music. Aaron moved to face her and noticed the glassy blown-out pupils along with the profuse amount of sweat pouring from her face. Emily shouted, “_y/n_. What happened?” _y/n_ lazily turned her face toward her colleague and said, “I don’t know. Don’t you see the colors, though? So pretty.” Aaron knew that _y/n_ was in a world of her own now. If _y/n_ had been drugged with ecstasy what she was seeing or hearing was nothing like what he and Emily were. _y/n_ pulled at the neckline of her shirt and said, “Why’s it so hot in here?” Hotch could barely hear her above the noise. When _y/n_ swayed forward on her feet and toward him, he caught her in his arms. She was slick with sweat and he half lead, half dragged his agent to the side of the floor. Many of the patrons were looking at them now. The people at the edge of the floor made space for Hotch to lay _y/n_ down. She was panting now and Aaron called out to Emily saying, “Get every cop in here to not let anyone go. Call an ambulance and stop the music as fast as you can.” Emily nodded and ran away toward the first officer she saw. Hotch didn’t pay much attention to anything else as he focused solely on _y/n_ She was coughing now and her breath was coming in too fast for her to get proper oxygenation. Hotch called to a concerned-looking onlooker to hold down _y/n_’s arms and another to hold her legs. He said it with such authority that neither people he enlisted could refuse him. Once _y/n_ was held still from thrashing around, he took hold of her head and made sure her mouth was open to breathe better. During the chaos, the lights turned on and the music stopped. There was chatter and movement from nearby, but Aaron couldn’t afford to notice it. Emily was back at his side and said, “Ambulance is on the way. ETA five minutes.” Hotch nodded and replied, “Good. Get someone to bring over a bucket of ice. She‘s overheating and we’ve got to get her temperature down.” Prentiss nodded and ran off again. Aaron wiped away a strand of drool from her mouth and said, “Hold on, _y/n_. Just hold on a few minutes more.” By the time a bartender came with ice, _y/n_ seemed so far away from him. Emily asked, concerned, “Where do you want the ice, Hotch.” Aaron took a breath and said, “Pour it over her chest, groin, and neck. Let’s hope it cools her down. All he could do now was wait for the ambulance to arrive. That took what felt like hours. Hotch was grateful that Emily was there to control the flow of traffic, and equally grateful when the rest of the team arrived.

When the paramedics arrived, Aaron allowed himself to lean forward for a second into the pool of ice water that had melted off of _y/n_’s overheated body. He only allowed himself a second thought as he, Derek, and Emily followed the stretcher holding _y/n_ out and toward the waiting ambulance. One of the paramedics asked, “What’s happened to her? Is this another one of those druggings?” Aaron nodded his head and replied, “I believe so. She was out of it when I found her and struggling to breathe.” The paramedic nodded and said, “It could be an overdose depending on how much she was given.” The two men efficiently lifted the stretcher into the transport vehicle and Hotch asked, “May I ride with her? I’m a federal agent and so is she?” He flashed his badge, and the man he was talking to nodded saying, “You can take the crash seat, just stay back while we work.” Aaron agreed and watched with concern as the doors to the ambulance were closed and it started to move. _y/n_ was manipulated like a doll as an oxygen mask was put over her face. Hotch looked at the metal floor as the medic cut open her shirt to place a cooling blanket over her chest. It wasn’t a long ride to the hospital and that, Hotch was grateful for. They took _y/n_ back into the ER while he moved to the front of the hospital. He called the team and gave them the update, and he asked for the same. Rossi replied, “We have everyone from the club still here and we’re looking over everyone, but Reid and Em want to wait with you. Would it be alright to get more officers over here and let them go?’ Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose and said, “Yeah. That’s fine. The one positive thing about this is that she saw the unsub. That’s if she makes it out of this and if she has any memory of what happened before she was drugged.” Dave heard the soft desperation in Hotch’s voice. He wasn’t surprised. He’d seen Aaron’s slow transformation around _y/n_ over the last year. It wasn’t surprising to him that an event like this would pull out Aaron’s proactive instincts. To reassure his friend, Rossi said, “I’m sure she’ll be fine, Aaron. She’s a tough one, just give it time.” Hotch let out a sigh but knew Rossi was right. He wrapped up the call and then moved inside for the vigil that would last until someone from the hospital gave him news or Spencer and Prentiss arrived. He checked his phone and saw missed calls from Garcia, and a text from JJ saying that she was headed over as well. Aaron ignored these things for just a moment and sat with the anxiety that _y/n_ being targeted had done to him. He’d have to face the feelings eventually and he figured he might as well start on them now.

The time passed, and the team members who could come and sit with him did. To keep his mind from wandering, he spoke with the team about the case and how they could update the profile now that one of them had been drugged. It was Spencer who mostly answered his questions and even took some notes. Even with that being the case, Hotch couldn’t keep pretending and he and Reid lapsed into silence. Another half hour later, a doctor appeared. The group stood up and approached the man. The doctor’s name tag read. Dr. Piatte. The man held a clipboard in front of him and he said, “The patient, Ms. _y/l/n_ is almost stabilized now. She was given a pretty high dose of ecstasy for her size along with another depressant. Now that her vitals, temperature, and breathing have all leveled out, all we can do is make sure she’s comfortable until the drugs leave her system. Everyone nodded and Aaron asked, “Is she awake? Could someone sit with her while she’s detoxing?” Dr. Piatte looked at him and said, “Ms. _y/l/n_ is conscious, but not lucid. She’s said a few words here and there, but none of it has made much sense. If you’re hoping to talk to her, I’m afraid that won’t be possible.” Hotch shook his head no and replied, “I’m not interested in getting answers for anything. I was just wondering if one of us might sit with her. To keep her company. Maybe she would be more relaxed if one of us was there.” The greying man thought for a second, before saying, “I don’t mind if one of you sits with her. Just don’t excite her and only one of you can be in her room. She’s in a highly suggestible state mentally and she needs as much peace as possible.” The team understood and Emily, JJ, and Spencer looked at Hotch, understanding that he wanted to be with _y/n_ but not sure how to say that. JJ broke the silence by saying, “Why don’t you sit with her, Hotch? The rest of us can go back to the club and help the others out. We’ll send you updates about over there, and you can keep us informed about anything that happens here?” Hotch nodded and replied, “Okay, thanks JJ. Is that alright with you Em, Reid?” Both agents nodded their heads. Aaron bowed his head for a second before saying, “Thank you. I’ll send you an updates regarding _y/n_. With that conversation, Aaron followed the doctor back to _y/n_’s room. He realized that he was being overly protective of _y/n_ and that the team might have noticed it, but he didn’t have the energy to worry about that right now. JJ had thankfully saved any awkwardness in that area and he reminded himself that he’d have to thank her once they were back home. He’d need to thank the whole team for their hard work. Anytime one of the team got hurt on a case, he was reminded how dedicated everyone was, and he needed to highlight that more often. But for now, he only had a mind for _y/n_. When he stepped into the hospital room, Aaron’s eye fell on _y/n_. Her face was still flushed and the closer he got to her bedside, the more he realized how uncomfortable she still might be, even now that she was in a hospital bed and on Benzodiazepines. He watched as _y/n_’s eyes traced patterns on the ceiling where none were to be found. Similarly, _y/n_’s hands tapped out a rhythm that he couldn’t hear, some music only accessible in the recesses for her drudged mind. Hotch sat down and contemplated just how vulnerable _y/n_ looked. He’d never seen her this way before and it made him uncomfortable in the way that he knew there was nothing he could do about it. Like watching a car crash. But this was less than the crash and more of watching the fire slowly die down to a more relaxed state. As the minutes ticked by, _y/n_ seemed to relax and so did he.

An hour later, Aaron had almost fallen into a half-sleep, when _y/n_’s body jerked slightly and she made a sound that Hotch couldn’t quite identify. He watched as _y/n_continued to move in the bed softly and her hands gripped the sheets in a way that he thought might be indicative of discomfort. Aaron got up to get a nurse to see if _y/n_ needed help, but when she called out his name in a breathy half-sigh half-moan, he stopped in his tracks. When _y/n_ said, “Don’t stop, God don’t stop, Aaron,” Hotch turned on his heel and looked at _y/n_ from a distance. He noticed now the rhythm of her hips moved in a way that might indicate an intimate moment was happening. _y/n_’s expression which he had taken as pain at first was full of ecstasy, and not the drug that had been pushed on her. He watched as her breath picked up and her body moved until finally, she let out a soft cry, with her body shaking for a moment and then collapsing fully back on the bed. When _y/n_’s body was flushed with the bed and she had caught her breath after what had been an apparent climax in her dream, she said, “So good, Aaron.” Hotch was at a true loss for what to do. _y/n_ seemed to be relaxed, but now that he’d witnessed her dreaming about him, dreaming in a way that had given her release, he felt like he’d witnessed something highly personal and something that he was sure _y/n_ wouldn’t want to have seen. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but be surprised and slightly flattered that she should think of him that way. He felt his core tingle at how she’d called out his name, how her face had looked at the height of her dream. Not only was his mind thinking, against his better judgment, about how lovely she had looked during release, but his lower body started to get similar ideas.

Hotch felt his cock begin to harden and internally said, “Shit.” He shouldn’t be here, not like this. Not feel this way when _y/n_ had no agency right now. He was going to attempt to leave again but as he turned a second time, _y/n_ called his name again, this time it was clearer. He turned and saw her looking at him. Her eyes were clearer now. Still a bit glassy, but not so far away. _y/n_ spoke again saying, “Hotch, you’re here?” Aaron let out a breath and approached her bed, pulling a chair up near her and saying, “Yeah. I’m here.” _y/n_ blinked a few times and replied, “You’ve never been here after a dream like that before. It’s so strange.” Hotch shifted closer. He realized that she was still not fully herself He brushed a strand of her _y/h/t_ away from her face and he couldn’t help himself from asking, “What type of dreams? What do you mean, _y/n_.” _y/n_ softly pulled the palm of his hand into hers and said, “Don’t you know? You’re there for all of them. You’re being funny today, Aaron.” Hotch quickly moved and held onto _y/n_’s shoulders as she tried to sit up fully. He tsked and said, “Hey, now. Just relax you’re in the hospital, _y/n_. I need you to relax or I’ll have to get a nurse.” Hotch knew he should get a nurse anyway, but once that happened the moment would be ruined and some selfish part of him that had longed for _y/n_ had him ask, “What are you trying to do? Where do you think you’re going, agent?” _y/n_ stilled at his final word and looked at him, saying, “I just want to put my head in your lap. Please, just for a minute. It’s always so warm and cozy.” Aaron flushed darker because this must have been something that had happened in one of her dreams because he’d never let her rest her head in his lap before. That wasn’t something even he’d dreamed about with _y/n_, and he’d had plenty of dreams with _y/n_ in the staring role before. His cock twitched in his pants comfortably, so he moved his mind back to _y/n_ who was leaning dangerously forward. He tried to gently get her to relax back onto the bed, and he said, “You need to relax, _y/n_. You shouldn’t be sitting up.” Non-lucidly she replied with a little laugh, “I’ll lay down if it’s on your lap.” Hotch was at a crossroads, he knew that MDMA could make its users very suggestible and overly sexual. He couldn’t know if this was what she wanted. But _y/n_ continued to insist and kept trying to sit up and be close to him. Finally, after the fifth time of her getting up again, Aaron moved to sit on the edge of the bed. He knew he could call a nurse, but that would most likely mean that _y/n_ got strapped to the bed and would be uncomfortable for the next few hours. So he compromised and let her place her head on his thigh. She relaxed immediately once her head was settled. It was a shocking departure from her jittery movement from before. And that was how Aaron ended up in a position he could never have imagined. He couldn’t have predicted any case that would lead to his moral quandary, and it only got more morally grey from there.

Hotch shifted his hips the slightest bit and that did not help him. _y/n_’s head was fully in his lap now, and he knew it shouldn't be. When she was settled, _y/n_ started describing some of her dreams. Dreams about him. About him naked and doing things to her while _y/n_ was also naked. _y/n_ described them in detail. The words had made Aaron's cock twitch in his pants. As _y/n_ set her head in his lap and breathed over his groin, he hardened fully again. Aaron knew _y/n_ wouldn't be saying these things if it wasn't for the drugs. _y/n_ was a hard worker, a reserved agent, and he shouldn’t be doing this. Yet here he was, and _y/n_ was almost purring with contentment. Hotch took a stabilizing breath and said, “You’re like a kitten like this.” _y/n_ nuzzled her head into his lap further and said half asleep again, “I’ll be your kitten if you want, Hotch.” Aaron bit back a groan and endured the torture of _y/n_ being so close to his erect member without any option to do anything. From her description of her dreams, _y/n_ would love to take care of the need pressing against the fly of his pants, but she was incapacitated and not in her full mind. Hotch did his best to stay still and try and picture anything else but the lurid details of _y/n_’s dreams. Eventually, she slipped off into what seemed to be a deeper sleep. Once Aaron made sure her breath was even, he slipped off of the bed and made sure _y/n_’s face was resting on the pillow before he made a quick retreat to the nearest bathroom. He moved to the sink and felt about as hot as _y/n_ had looked at the club. He turned on the tap and splashed cold water on his face and the back of his neck. He walked around the small space for a few moments just thinking about the case and nothing but the case. In a few minutes he’d managed to calm his erection, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with all that last night had revealed. Aaron moved back to the reception area to give himself some space from _y/n_. One positive was that it was unlikely that _y/n_ would remember anything that she’d said or did the previous night. He pulled out his phone and called Emily to see what the team was currently doing. Prentiss picked up on the first ring and said, “Hey Hotch. How’s _y/n_ holding up?” Aaron flushed but managed to say, “She’s… she’s doing better. Still a little out of it, but not as bad as two hours ago.” Emily didn’t comment on his long pause and waited for Hotch to continue. Aaron took a second to think about how to word his request and said, “Would you be willing to switch spots with me? I’d like a fresh look at the scene and profile, and you know how I feel about hospitals.” There was a pause before Em said, “Sure, Aaron. I’ll just tell the team and then head over. Be there in about twenty minutes.” Aaron breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her before hanging up. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ to wake alone, but he didn’t think it would be a great idea if it was him she woke up to. It might result in an awkward moment that _y/n_ didn’t need right now.

A few minutes later, Emily showed up and she filled Aaron in on what he’d missed and how the team was back at the precinct. She noticed how odd he was behaving, but didn’t ask him about it. Aaron was a mystery that she still hadn’t cracked yet, but if it was something important, she knew he’d tell her or ask for help. So she gave him a pat on the shoulder and watched as he left the building before being led back to _y/n_’s room by a nurse. Emily sat on a chair and watched _y/n_ sleep for an hour. At around seven a.m. _y/n_ shifted on her side and opened her _y/c/e_’s. They were red and sore looking, but they were back to normal and Emily leaned forward asking, “Hey, _y/n_. How are you feeling?” _y/n_ coughed but managed to say, “I’m okay. I know who did it. Who the unsub is.” Emily nodded and gave the woman on the bed a paper cup of water. _y/n_ took a small sip and said, “It’s Jeanie King. The woman who found the last victim. She led me to an alley and I was dumb enough to follow her.” Prentiss nodded and said, “It’s okay, _y/n_. Let me just text the team that information. You just relax and I’ll call a nurse to see how you’re doing.” _y/n_ gave a small nod and looked up at the ceiling tiles. When Emily was done with her phone, _y/n_ looked back at her with a little smile which Prentiss returned. _y/n_ said, “I’m glad it’s you here Em. I had some really lucid dreams during the night and I feel like I said some very private stuff. So how bad was it? What did it say.” Emily stilled for a moment and realized, perhaps, why Hotch was so different when she’d seen him. Emily cleared her throat and opted for honesty, saying, “Well I didn’t hear you say anything, _y/n_ but I wasn’t the one here all night.” _y/n_’s eyes went wide and she asked softly, “Who was here, Em?” Prentiss bit her tongue before saying, “Hotch.” _y/n_ covered her face with her hands and said, “Oh my God, kill me, Emily. If I said any of those things to him I’m going to jump out of the jet.” Prentiss sympathized and patted _y/n_’s shoulder saying, “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, _y/n_. Even if it was, you were drugged, you couldn’t have helped yourself from saying stuff,” _y/n_ just groaned in reply, still covering her eyes. Emily called for the nurse to hope that some distraction would ease her discomfort.

The case didn’t take long to wrap up now that _y/n_ had identified the unsub. The hospital released _y/n_ a day later and Jeanie King was found in another club the next night looking for yet another victim. The woman was disturbed and believed she was doing a great service to those she had drugged. She thought she was letting them experience a good life and time. A life that she had not experienced until she had started taking harder and harder drugs. The tough life and expectations of her home had sent her into a downward spiral. In all, it was a pretty cut-and-dry case, except for the place where the killings happened. To have it be so open and public an arena. When _y/n_ was back on her feet, the team left for home. When _y/n_ saw Aaron for the first time, he very quickly averted his eyes and she noticed him flush, and that was all she needed to know that she’d said something inappropriate to him while he had been with her in the hospital. Aaron didn’t get flustered, nothing ever flustered him, so his response was enough. To his credit, Hotch recovered more quickly than _y/n_ as he, like the rest of the team asked how she was doing. _y/n_ was flustered but tried to play it off like she didn’t need all the attention. She moved as far away from Hotch as possible because she still didn’t know the extent of what she’d said to him. If it was what she remembered, it was bad. The team glanced between the two who normally were pretty close but suddenly weren’t. Only Emily had an idea of what had happened and attempted to bridge the awkward silence in the cabin by asking Spencer a question about the case. Reid jumped at the chance to talk about famous female poisoners. This helped the team breathe, but even so, _y/n_ hardly looked at Aaron during the hour-long trip home.

The team hoped that whatever was happening between _y/n_ and Hotch would go away quickly. But even two weeks after they were back, there was still an awkwardness between them. They worked fine, but the dynamic had shifted, and not for the better. Finally, Rossi and Emily were over the drama and both went to Aaron on the same day to ask him to make it right, or to at least talk to _y/n_. Dave was straight to the point, reminding Aaron that he was the leader of this team and he needed to lead right now. Emily was a bit more nuanced and entered his office near the end of the day. He looked up from his desk and asked, “What is it, Em?” Prentiss smiled and said, “You know you’re not bad for what happened at the hospital, right?” Aaron’s dark eyes flashed to hers and he knew she wasn’t just talking about the fact that _y/n_ had gotten hurt. He slowly said, “I feel like I used her. I should have left when she started talking about that stuff.” Emily shrugged her shoulders and said, “I don’t know if I was in that position and I was spilling my heart out I’d rather not be saying that to an empty room or a nurse that doesn’t care.” Aaron clenched his jaw and said, “She was sharing more than just her heart, Emily.” Em sighed and said, “Well you’re free to feel that way, but you need to do something about it. Either apologize or tell her you feel for her too, because it’s not working right now and you know it. And just for your information, she feels just as bad about saying that stuff to you as you feel about listening to it.” Prentiss didn’t let him make any excuses or try to avoid the real issue, that _y/n_ had shared her feelings and he needed to respond to them in some way. Either positively or with rejection, he had to make up his mind for the sake of his team, but even more for _y/n_’s sake. Hotch sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. His team was right and he wasn’t going to be a coward and just let things fester between _y/n_ and himself. He’d talk to _y/n_ tonight, about what he was going to say, he wasn’t sure, but he was going to say something.

It was seven p.m. and dark outside the Quantico field office. The bullpen was empty except for _y/n_. Aaron knew _y/n_ was a hard worker, but after the incident in NYC, she’d stayed later and later. She stayed until after he’d left the office for the last week. He wasn’t sure if this was her punishing herself for what she’d admitted, or just an attempt to not have to be in a confined space with him like the parking garage or the elevator. But Aaron wasn’t going to let that happen tonight. Tonight he was driving her home. This would give them time and space to talk about what they needed to. It would also ensure an endpoint to the conversation once they arrived at _y/n_’s apartment. Hotch stood up from his desk chair and packed his briefcase before moving outside his office and locking the door behind him. _y/n_ looked up at Aaron as he moved down the stairs. She let out a sigh because once he was out the door she could go home too. But Aaron didn’t do his normal hand raise and “See you tomorrow _y/n_.” Nope. He was walking over to her, and _y/n_ shifted in her seat a bit. She pulled a file in front of her to look like she was working, even though she’d finished a half-hour ago. _y/n_ looked up at him and tried to act cool. She knew it had been strange, that she had been strange since the drugging and she hated it, but _y/n_ didn’t know how to say, “Hey, sorry boss. I didn’t mean to talk about my sexual fantasies with you while I was on drugs.” Instead, _y/n_ just asked, “Hey Hotch. What’s up?” Aaron parked himself by her desk and he said, “I thought I’d give you a ride home?” _y/n_ flushed and said, “It’s alright. I still have this file to finish, but thanks for the offer.” Hotch stood still and said, “_y/n_, you’re finished with that file. It’s late, let me give you a ride home, please.” _y/n_ had never heard him use this tone before, and she looked up at him almost forgetting how terrible she felt about herself and the situation she’d gotten herself into with him. The way he offered made _y/n_ realize why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place. The warmth, yet strength he demonstrated was just so overpowering. _y/n_ snapped back to herself and realized thinking like that had gotten her in trouble in the first place. Aaron saw the shift on her face and he said, “I’m not taking no for an answer, _y/n_. So you might as well grab your stuff. I don’t want you on the bus this late.” _y/n_ turned her head from him so he wouldn’t catch how flustered she was. She didn’t argue with him, it would be pointless and she’d say something stupid anyway.

The car ride was as awkward as either of them had imagined. It was silent until they were five minutes from _y/n_’s house. _y/n_ finally plucked up the courage to look at Hotch and say, “Listen, Hotch, about the last case…” She cut herself off not knowing what she wanted to say about the last case. Aaron took the reigns of the conversation by saying, “_y/n_, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation. I shouldn’t have stayed in the room with you. It was wrong of me.” _y/n_ swallowed and asked one of her hard questions, “What exactly did I tell you? What happened?” Aaron pulled into a spot near _y/n_’s unit and replied, “You told me about your dreams. With me. And I listened because I wanted to know. I’m sorry for violating that trust with you.” _y/n_ swallowed and looked out the window. It was as bad as she feared. _y/n_ felt like crying. The emotions had sprung up like an untapped oil well. Perhaps because she was new and thought maybe she’d get kicked out for something like this, or because she knew Aaron would never feel the same way. Never look at her the way she looked at him. _y/n_ said in an almost inaudible whisper, “No, I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t want to hear something gross like that with me. I know I’m nothing like that to you.” Hotch hadn’t expected _y/n_ to say that. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t that. Hotch furrowed his brow and said, “What do you mean, _y/n_?” _y/n_ huffed, trying to stop the tears from falling down her face as she said, “I know you wouldn’t want to be intimate with someone like me, okay? I get it. I’m just a newbie with a crush. Why would you ever look at me like that.” _y/n_ tone spilled from sorrow to anger quickly.

The silence was deafening for a moment before Aaron said, “_y/n_. You’re a good profiler, but you’ve read me wrong. I like you the way you like me. I have dreams about you too.” The quiet in the car was so deep that the only thing that could be heard was their breaths. _y/n_ turned her head to look at him. She couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Finally, while his gaze was reaching into her soul, she said, “What did you say?” Aaron flushed and raised a hand to her cheek as he deliberately said, “I have dreams about you too.” Hotch took a breath and rubbed his thumb over _y/n_’s bottom lip which was hanging slightly slack with shock. He leaned in closer. So close that his breath fanned her face as he said, “I don’t want to hear you put yourself down like that ever again _y/n_. Do you understand?” _y/n_ nodded slightly. Their mouths were just an inch from each other. When _y/n_ couldn’t wait anymore, she closed the gap between them. Hotch’s lips were warm and soft, meeting hers with enthusiasm and energy. As soon as their mouths met, nothing could stop them from going all in. _y/n_ sucked in a breath and Aaron’s large hands wrapped behind her back, holding her close to him. _y/n_’s hands made it to his hair, and she pulled at the short strands. Aaron groaned into her touch and his hands slipped under the back of _y/n_’s shirt. Hotch slipped his tongue into _y/n_’s mouth. He explored every inch of her mouth and softly bit at her lower lip where his thumb had been mere moments before. _y/n_ moaned into his rough affection. _y/n_ pulled away breathlessly from his mouth and said, “Inside. Let’s go inside.” Aaron’s eyes were full of desire, so dark almost that they looked black. They flashed with anticipation of having more of _y/n and he nodded. The pair got out of Aaron’s car and he locked it behind him as they walked to _y/n_’s apartment. They didn’t run to her door, but they didn’t amble either.

_y/n_ pulled out her keys and she could feel Aaron right behind her, like a shadow. He was so close that she swore his warmth was radiating over her back. She knew if she took a half step back, she’d be pressed against his chest and groin, and god she wanted that so badly. To be pressed into every part of him. _y/n_ quickly unlocked the door and once they were inside, she flicked on a light. _y/n_ heard the door close behind her and a firm hand on her shoulder. Hotch pushed _y/n_’s back to her front door and pinned her there with his arms. _y/n_ ran her tongue over her lower lip, making him want to taste her even more. He leaned down and kissed her again. His hands found her hips and his fingers dug into the soft flesh, seeking traction to keep him steady as his head spun with the overwhelming power _y/n_ had over him now. Aaron felt like a man parched in the desert and he’d finally found an oasis. He was going to have his fill. _y/n_’s hands roamed over his body that held such strength and power, yet contained a soul that longed to belong. Hotch pressed his body to her, pinning her further, but _y/n_ didn’t complain this was what she’d wanted for months. _y/n_ felt his erection and she provided him with some friction and he groaned, a deep sound coming from his chest. Aaron pulled back and said, “Do you want this? Are you sure you want to do this? Once I start I won’t be able to stop.” _y/n_ nodded mutely for a minute before saying, “Aaron, I told you how much I wanted it. I wasn’t exaggerating in the description of those dreams.” Hotch nodded and looked around the new space. He asked, “Bedroom?” _y/n_ flushed and said, “Down the hall, on the left.” He smiled at her and bent down slightly to pick _y/n_ up. He gave a little grunt at shifting her weight into his arms and also the fact that her core was now pressed his this throbbing cock.

In the bedroom, he let _y/n_ down, and she kicked off her shoes and turned on a few lamps. Aaron watched her and then moved behind her. His arms wrapped around her torso and he kissed the crook of her neck. _y/n_ sighed and let him give her open-mouthed kisses. However, she was ready for him. She could feel herself dripping with anticipation, and she turned in his arms. _y/n_ kissed up his jawline while her hands undid the buckle of his belt. Aaron let out a breath, realizing that _y/n_ wanted to pick up the pace. He helped her take off his pants and he returned the favor by stripping her of her _y/f/c_ shirt. His gaze roved over her body now in pants and a simple bra while she took in the bulge in his pants. Aaron pushed _y/n_ to the edge of the bed and she got on her mattress facing him. Aaron hovered over her before kissing her again. He murmured, “Such a needy kitten. Begging me to fuck you.” One of Hotch’s hands slipped under the cup of her bra and he kneaded the tissue and tweaked her nipple until it was taught under his fingers. He flicked it a few times as _y/n_ squirmed on the bed. She panted, “Aaron.” Hotch moved his other hand to the clasp of her bra and unlatched it with ease. He slipped the straps down her shoulders and marveled at what he saw beneath the fabric. Hotch tossed the bra aside, and he moved his mouth to suck on the _y/n_’s right breast, he said, “I need you to be patient for me kitten. I’m going to take this slowly because we can only do it for the first time once, and I want it to be something you remember.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I understand. I’ll try and last for you.” Hotch’s tongue licked over her nipple and she moaned and arched her back at the feelings. Before Aaron went back into to suckle her again, he said, “Atta girl.” _y/n_ paid attention as Hotch’s mouth licked over her nipple. He sucked and licked it in a way that she knew he was adept with his mouth, both here, and elsewhere. His mouth and hand which was stimulating her other breast were making her even warmer and wetter. She loved the attention he was giving her, but she wanted to see him. To have him fill her to the brim like she knew only he could do. After a few moments, Aaron’s left hand traced down to her stomach, then to her naval, and finally past the band of her panties. She let out a long moan as his finger traced the contours of her arousal. Hotch pulled his face back and he said, “You sound so pretty when you make those noises, y/n_. Like a melody I’m never going to tire of.” He’d started to rub his pointer and middle finger between her folds and _y/n_ said, “Aaron, please, I need you in me.” Hotch’s face split into a grin and he said, “I can feel that kitten. You’re so wet for me already.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “I am. I have been…” _y/n_’s voice was cut off with a groan as Aaron started to circle her clit. Hotch chuckled and let _y/n_ catch her breath as he took off his shirt and briefs. _y/n_ looked at Aaron’s cock that hung thick and heavy by his stomach. He was as impressive as she’d dreamed. Probably more so, but those dreams were gone now that she was in front of the real thing. Aaron noticed her gaze and he said, “Don’t look so shocked _y/n_ or you’ll scandalize me.” _y/n_ laughed, appreciating that he could have some humor at the moment. She said, “What if I praised you instead?” Aaron stilled at the phrase and said, “You don’t need my ego that big right now _y/n_.” His hands slipped to both sides of her panties and she let him slide them down her legs and to the floor like her bra.

Aaron looked over her swollen pussy and noticed how slick it was with her readiness. He looked at her and asked, “How do you want it, _y/n_?” _y/n_ propped herself up on one elbow and used the other to pull him into another kiss before saying, “Just like this, with you on top, putting your weight into me.” Aaron nodded and helped her get into a comfortable position on her back. He asked while flicking a finger over her clit, “Are you on the pill or do I need a condom?” _y/n_ was squirming again under his skilled fingers as she said, “I’m on the pill. You’re good.” Aaron smiled and stopped his hand. _y/n_ almost mewled at the loss of feeling, but Hotch quickly replaced his hand with this cock. He guided it up and down her opening to coat it with her slick. _y/n_ arched her back and let out a long moan as he guided the tip inside her. “Aaron,” she called out as he kept pressing in and out of her. He looked down at her face, which radiated her pleasure. He checked in anyway asking, “Is it too much? Are you comfortable?” _y/n_ nodded and said, “It’s perfect. Just keep going, please. You’re not gonna hurt me.” _y/n_ opened her eyes enough to see his smile and he pressed his length further into her weeping cunt. It took him three full thrusts to seat himself in her. No matter how ready _y/n_ said she was, he wasn’t going to press her or harm her. _y/n_ wrapped her arms around him and he began to thrust in and out of her. _y/n_ let out a litany of sounds and words as he established a pace. Aaron struggled to keep his composure as left her warmth and wetness tight around his cock. He groaned as he kept moving inside her. _y/n_ hands raked down his back, asking him to move more. Aaron complied with her unspoken request. He started snapping his hips into her, filling her each time. _y/n_ let out a strangled cry that was his name and he replied, “That’s a good girl. You’re taking me so well aren’t you kitten.”Hotch stifled her future cries with his mouth. The veins on Aaron’s dick gave the perfect feeling for _y/n_’s walls to feel the sensation of Hotch’s fast pace. He was doing as she asked, putting his full weight into every thrust. _y/n_ quickly started feeling her core tighten and the fact that he wasn’t letting her get any sounds out only amplified the orgasm that she knew was fast approaching. Aaron moved one hand to her clit and began rubbing soft circles over her nerve spot. He pulled his mouth away from hers so she could hear _y/n_ pant his name and have her breath pick up even more. Aaron quickened and tightened his attention on her clit and he knew she was close as her walls tightened around him and her back arched further off the bed. He was close too and he gave her his all as his hips rocked into hers. He looked at her face and hair above her head as he said, “Let go kitten. You can let go for me.” At his encouragement, _y/n_ let her climax peak and she felt herself seize all over as the wave of euphoria crashed over her. The look on _y/n_’s face and the way _y/n_’s cunt got even tighter with her orgasm had Aaron spill into her harshly. He called out her name as he let go. Hotch leaned forward on his arms to stop from collapsing on top of her.

Both of them took their time to catch their breaths and Aaron looked over to her saying, “That was, that was amazing, _y/n_.” _y/n_ looked at him, eyes still blown from her climax. She ran a hand over his cheek and said, “That was better than any dream I could imagine.” Hotch laughed and said, “I’m not sure about that. Some of them sounded pretty nice. Maybe we should try some of those things later on.” Hearing Aaron say that _y/n_ sobered and said, “So, we’re going to keep doing this?” Hotch looked at her and sat up from her side. He kissed the tip of her nose and said, “If you want, _y/n_. I’d like to if you're comfortable with it.” _y/n_ nodded slowly and said, “I do want that, but what about the team and the rules? Is this even allowed?” Aaron smiled down at her glowing body and said, “Yeah, we’ll have to talk about that. But it can wait for tonight. I never want you to think I don’t dream about you like you did with me. And I’m going to make sure I show you that thoroughly with time.” _y/n_ beamed and tried to sit up, but Aaron held her back and asked, “What are you trying to do, kitten?” _y/n_ flushed at the nickname and replied, “Just getting some towels to clean us up?” Hotch kept his gaze on her face before flicking it between her legs. He looked back at her and said, “You must be joking if you think I’m going to let that all go to waste. Now lay back down and let me take care of you.” _y/n_ let out a little gasp at the request, but let Aaron push her back on the mattress. He kissed down the valley of her breasts, stomach, and finally to their shared release. As his mouth expertly lapped up what he’d spilled in her, mixed with her climax, both Aaron and _y/n_ realized they’d found something very special in the other. Aaron had found an agent willing to stick with the BAU in the good and bad times, and _y/n_ had found a leader she trusted enough to follow into the fire. And well the sex, the intimacy that they had had and that to come, well that was just the cherry on top.

Text Break Banners by @cafekitsune

Tag List: @geminitapestry

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buddierecs · 7 months ago

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secret relationship buddie fics

all explicit rating - 18+ only!!!!!! make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

i found love where it wasn't supposed to be (right in front of me) by: finduilas "it’s such a long time coming and still it takes buck by surprise. It takes him by surprise even though he is the one that leans in and finally kisses eddie. his second surprise is that eddie doesn’t push him away, doesn’t even look at him with confusion. or worse, rage. no, eddie kisses him back like buck is a tall drink of water and eddie is severely dehydrated. buck knows the feeling" word count: 13k important tags: anal sex, versatile buddie, getting caught, accidental clothes sharing oh, my dream (never quite as it seems) by: woodchoc_magnum "in which buck and eddie are trying out a friends-with-benefits thing (that's rapidly turning into more) when the world comes crashing down on them. as buck hovers somewhere between life and death, eddie has to deal with their friends, family and the buckley parents." word count: 44k important tags: friends with benefits, whump, season six, sperm donor arc, coma, fluff and smut, bottom!eddie diaz

ours to keep by: brewrosemilk 'buck and eddie pass their single, shared brain-cell back and forth, trying to keep their relationship a secret." word count: 8.9k important tags: blow jobs, porn with feelings, pov alternating, pov outsider, crack treated seriously sideways (incomplete series) by: buddiefanrpnj "what was it buck said to him that night… "you don't need to pretend with me." well, eddie is fucking done pretending. aka eddie makes his choice … this story starts at the end of red flag, 6x9" word count: 325k important tags: pining, love confessions, major character injury, first times, oral sex, rimming, demisexual!eddie diaz my hands are shaking from holding back by: barnesbegin "buck refuses to believe friends look at each other the way he and eddie do. however, eddie is dating ana flores. so buck just gives him space and hopes eddie will come to his senses soon. but after a heated fight between the two, where a confession is unintentionally made, things take a turn." word count: 84k important tags: pining, slow burn, eventual smut, eddie diaz is in denial the kids had sex, chim. by: whiskis "buck and eddie's extra activities got buck's voice all fucked up (pun intended)." word count: 5.3k important tags: oral sex, face-fucking, coming untouched, idiots in love, light dom/sub race to the sun (rest when it's over) by: honestlydarkprincess "buck challenges eddie and eddie takes said challenge. It causes their relationship to be revealed in a rather unique way." word count: 3.5k important tags: come slut!evan buckley, multiple orgasms, manhandling, marking, sir kink, possessive sex, dom!eddie diaz, sub!evan buckley, strength kink loose threads by: daises_and_briars "new to dating and keeping it quiet, buck and eddie get a little carried away on a slower shift at the firehouse. but when the alarm eventually sounds, a spur of the moment mistake leaves them a little mixed up." word count: 3.7k important tags: swapped clothes, blowjobs, pranks a phone call in late december by: brewsrosemilk “i’m so fucking cold without you,” he admits, then - and he’s not only speaking metaphorically; the snow storm is raging outside, screaming around the corners of the house; the room is drafty, and somehow despite the sweat gathering at the base of his spine and his neck - he feels cold. he wants eddie. That’s all he wants. - "me too,” eddie hums, though - immediately soothing the anxiety. “never again. never again, i promise,” he sighs" word count: 4.3k important tags: phone sex, fluff and smut

romance is not dead if you keep it just yours by: weasleyworks "basically eddie and buck are in a relationship but have only told christopher." word count: 3.6k important tags: morning sex, kinda secret relationship, idiots in love your laugh (echoes down the hallway) by princessfbi "the long awaited jeep sex fic" word count: 5.5k important tags jeep (car) sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, blow jobs, praise kink, secret relationship.

and no one knows what goes on behind closed doors by: starlingbite "none of the team knows that after a long shift, when christopher is still at school, eddie follows buck across town to the loft. they don’t know that as soon as the front door is closed behind them eddie pushes buck against it and presses their lips together." word count: 4.6k important tags: plot what plot, anal sex, cock warming, top!eddie diaz, bottom!evan buckley, barebacking

general audience rated secret relationship fics mature rated secret relationship fics

#911 fandom #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #buddie smut #buddie fic #evan buckley #buck x eddie #eddie diaz #buddie fics #buddie recommendations #secret relationship #ao3feed #ao3 link #ao3 #evan buck buckley

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bitsbug · 1 year ago

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Hey! So I saw your slugsign stuff a few days ago and it has caused some pretty serious brain rot (pun intended!).

I’m planning out a fun little comic where the scugs work together to rebuild moon (got the idea from a Reddit post) and I was wondering if you had any ideas for slugsign names for the main slugcats? (Arti,hunter,etc.)

Because yeah, I can just call Arti scav predator, but then it gets confusing after a while with all of them. I don’t see much reason to use name-signs like this in co-op because you’d just use “you” instead, so you probably don’t have any. But do you have any ideas for them? (Also, is there a sign for ‘friend’? Because I think the scugs calling Rivulet Moon friend would be adorable)

Ooh, this is a great question! Hope you don't mind that I showed it to Phen so we could brainstorm, lol. Also goes without saying that this comic concept goes INSANE and I'm so excited to see it.

In-lore, you can either use an existing word or some unique motion. Whether it's high (jumping/standing on toes for in-lore), middle (standing normally), or low (crouching) also matters, since it can indicate personality and how the scug presents themself. I'm going to be using existing words here for ease of interpretation.

^I should also note that in-lore, [me] is held while doing the other part of the name sign, using both arms at once. It's only sequential in-game cuz you can only use one arm.

- Gourmand is probably some variety of "I make food"; simply translated as [me][make](food). Make could be like, pressing your hands together in a pantomime of how Gourm crafts in-game. Likely a middle namesign, but low could work.

-it would be REALLY FUNNY if Arti's name was something like "I kill scavs", but a cooler alternative could be "I am a weapon", which would be signed [me][object](kill). Hers is a high namesign because of the kill motion.

-Spearmaster is a bit difficult to pin down.. maybe "I hunt with spears"? That'd be [me](predator)[object](kill), which is pretty long! Using a unique motion here could cut down the length.

-Rivulet could be [me](fast) ! If you want it more water related, an alternative is [me](rain). [Fast] is signed by pointing at a down diagonal, then up diagonal, and [rain] by doing rapid, tiny hops. Definitely a high namesign.

-For Saint, "I am peaceful" as [me](peace) is the obvious choice, but I feel like "I cycle", [me](cycle), is more befitting of their.. deal. Maybe they use both. You could actually do either a low or middle namesign.

-Conversational slugsign can get pretty hands-on, like with [you] involving patting the other person, so "friend" could be literally hugging the person in question! Hugging yourself is how you say "friend" in the abstract.

Building on that, Monk's name could be "I am a friend", signed [me][friend]. Also a middle namesign, but maybe low or high? depends on how you characterize Monk.

-Survivor's might be something like "I do not die" or "I persist", which could be translated in multiple ways.. [me][cycle][no](kill) is how that'd be signed, but that's long. Inventing a unique motion would be better here.

-I imagine Hunter's is simply [me](predator), literally "I am a predator/hunter". One of the few low namesigns.

I believe that's all the canon scugs! Ofc, you don't need to use these, just what came to mind.

I should also note that, for the longer ones, I'm using an as-of-yet unposted grammar system we've been working on! It's kinda complex, and we're still ironing out the kinks. Maybe I'll post abt it soon.

#ask #slugsign #obligatory talk tag #long post #Names are something we didn't expect to be so prevalent #good for worldbuilding though!

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dhr-ao3 · 1 year ago

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Escape From Malfoy Manor

Escape From Malfoy Manor https://ift.tt/KSU9QrX by bek_48, Frau_Blucher, Maria81, Misdemeanor1331, MistressLynn Mses. Bek_48, Efinna, Frau Blucher, Kinder Blucher, Maria81, Misdemeanor1331, and Mistress Lynn Purveyors of Aid to Those Seeking Horror, Thrills, and Dark, Depraved, Absolutely Filthy Smut are proud to present... ESCAPE FROM MALFOY MANOR! WARNING! Don't read this book straight through from beginning to end! There are many different possibilities for adventure! From time to time as you read along, you will be asked to make a choice for Hermione. Your choice may lead to her success or disaster (but most often, her disaster). Hermione’s story is a result of your choice. After you decide, click on the hyperlink to see what happens next. Think carefully before you make a move! One mistake could be Hermione’s last… Hint: We highly recommend drawing a map of the hedge maze, and your reading format must support embedded links else the story will not make any sense. Another Hint: We will know if you cheat. Warning taken directly from Book 1 of the ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ series: “The Cave of Time” by Edward Packard. Words: 862, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Fenrir Greyback, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Antonia Malfoy's portrait, A mystery traitor! Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Choose Your Own Adventure, Over 30 different ways for Draco and Hermione to meet gruesome and horrific deaths :D, MCD if you choose wrong, HEA if you choose right, Curse Breaker Hermione Granger, Snarky Hermione Granger, Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Snarky Draco Malfoy, Horror, Thriller, Mystery, humor and fluff (for half a chapter), War, Ignore Book 7, What Deathly Hallows?, Espionage, house of horrors, secret passageways, meddling Malfoy ancestors, Masquerade, hedge maze, Memory Loss, Ghosts, Fluffy's younger sister, Mercy Killing, flesh eating plants, Flesh Eating Insects, flesh eating zombies, but that's redundant, Umbridge (yeah we don't like that either), Torture, Violence, Body Horror, Redrum, Horror movie references, bad puns and pretentious quotes, Scalping, Dismemberment, flaying, Burning, Decapitation, mental reprogramming, Evisceration, Cannibalism, it may seem like a lot but the attic full of dolls is easily the most horrific thing here, artists writing, writers arting, Explicit Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, Masturbation, Fuck Or Die, fuck and die, Torture as Foreplay, gratuitous female gaze, sexy demon magic, Primal Chase Kink, Sex Pollen, LITERALLY, BDSM, Tentacle Sex, but it's equal opportunity tentacle sex, Dubious Consentacles, Voyeurism, Carrow-cest, yeah that's gross, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/C2abZuE July 09, 2023 at 01:29PM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Aahh Brummie, did I leave you burning for your man? 😈🔥 And please go one with the pun cause this is indeed a breathtaking plot AHA. what a relief to read that my smut isn’t cringe but enjoyable — I’ve felt like everyone is better than me at it so I’m always a bit “meh”.

Regarding the direct approach it was a narrative choice. Since I have forty requests I can’t write 5k words for each. I’d love to but I don’t have the time and I have to keep working on other projects such as HYE or Loose Cannon. Moreover it allows me to focus on the kink itself! So I’m thrilled you like it and don’t think it’s rushed. The plot kinda hot I must admit 🤭. So good you’ve picked up the panties detail, I feel like it’s these kind of small additions that render a work realistic. And you’re so right! No time to lose when Tommy Shelby wants to do you 😬

BABE, I LITERALLY SNORTED WHEN I WROTE THE BRUMMIE ACCENT. I was thinking about your pseudo so bad and knew you’d pick it up LMAO. And you know your husband too well: he did wanted everyone to know what he did to Y/N. He’s definitely a naughty boy with a possessive and humiliating behavior. I added you to the tag babe, thank you so much for your support and I hope the next works for Peaky Kinktober will make you melt teehee. 🖤

Day 1: Breathe With Me || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Requested by @runnning-outof-time 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- Breathe, rough sex, piv, choking, strangulation, breathe play, unprotected sex, unhealthy relationship, abuse of power, mention of canonical violence

Words: 1K

Notes: Here is the first work of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober.

“Breathe with me.”

The way his hoarse voice, rendered even more raspy by the pleasure he experienced, whispered these specific three words in your ear fanned the flames of your desire.

With your breath hitching and your whole body burning, you could not help but whine and wiggle under the weight of his body. Tommy’s calloused fingers loosened their grip on your neck in the hope it would make your breath slow down but it didn’t work. You were still a panting mess with eyes closed and pearls of tears caught in your long lashes.

“T-Tommy…” You stuttered, moving your hips back without really noticing. His free hand slipped under you and, without the slightest warning, he brought them close again, with a frustrated hiss. As he did, his hard and swollen cock stretched your walls until the tip hit you in the right spot. Your toes curled in your heels at the electric sensation crossing through your body and it made your legs shook from each sides of his waist. “Aah, Tom!” You lamented, throwing your head back.

“You don’t get to call me like this, Y/N.” His voice snapped, firmer this time, and you could not help but obey. When his dizzying turquoise eyes met yours, the infamous gangster’s lips split with a satisfied smirk, “Good girl, you’re a good girl right?” Words melt on his tongue, “so nice and sweet she’s letting her dad’s boss fuck her ay.” He whispered with a wicked grin as he slowly started to move his hips again now that you had adjusted to his size. Your trembling fingers reached for the back of his head and lost themselves in his dark hair in search for any way of expressing the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

It was the second time you ended up like this today, sitting on his desk with your lace panties hanging from one of your ankles and your legs open for Mr.Shelby. The second time he unbuckled his belt and thrusted into you after he had rubbed his length against your wet slit while your dad was working downstairs in the factory, unaware of everything that has been going on between the two of you.

Tommy gritted his teeth, his slow movements increasingly faster each time you clenched your throbbing and soaked pussy around him— it felt so good, so tight, so right. “Let’s try again, alright babydoll? Let’s try again and breathe with me.” He growled, cold blue eyes relishing how the pleasure marked your face and how your trembling lips always tried to kiss him in a vain attempt to muffle your shameful moans. You nodded, one crystal tear rolling down your cheek, and moved your hips in rhythm with him in the sensual dance of lovemaking. A pile of paper fell from the desk and scattered on the office floor but Tommy couldn’t care less. How could he when he was busy filling your innocent pussy and wrapping his large hand around your throat? “See, you can do it ey.” He praised, his palm pressing slightly more until breathing became challenging but not exactly painful. Tommy knew far too well what he was doing and to what kind of limits he wanted to take you. After all, you had lost your virginity to him only a few days ago, on his same desk, thus he took it easy. You still needed more of taming before he could use you like he really wanted.

The reason behind your submission was that you wanted to save your father from being killed by a Peaky Blinders following the strike that resulted in Arthur’s murder attempt. The latter had been so enraged that he threatened to bash your father’s head with a hammer — he would have probably done so if Tommy hadn’t intervened. So when you begged for his life in his office ten minutes later, he asked for your age, if you had already been filled by a man before, and at your negative answer, he simply ordered you to take your clothes off right here, right now. That was how this sick game between you and Tommy had started. A game he definitely enjoyed, judging by how his gaze was always wandering all over your body, almost burning you every time your paths would cross in the factory.

My brother wants to see ya right now, cherry pie hm. You better not make him wait eh. Arthur had told you one hour ago, his mustache slightly lifting when he punctuated his sentence with a sadistic smirk, knowing what was awaiting you.

“Sir…” You begged, your voice strangled in your throat as Tommy’s hand choked you. Taking quick and shallow exhales, your heart soon began to drum fast again in your chest due to panic but this time, the gangster didn’t stop. Instead, he gave you one meaner thrust to make you squeal, enjoying the sight of your teary eyes, your gaping mouth, and your reddened cheeks. You looked so weak… So defenseless. But what got him was when he felt your wetness running down his shaft despite your frightened look.

“Breathe with me.” He ordered, but his raspy voice had a softer tone. As he fucked you at the perfect pace, invading your needy but inexperienced pussy, he pressed his forehead against yours and locked you in a stare, “Don’t give in to the panic and just focus on two things: my breathing and the sensation of me cock.” He hummed, his grin fading away and replaced by a serious face. You let out a loud exhale and tried. At first, you did your best to obliterate the way his strong grip was obstructing your windpipe to only focus on the sensations of fucking itself. Each time he pulled out, a feeling of devastating emptiness woke up in you and left you craving for him to go back inside. No matter how ashamed you were of getting used by your dad’s boss like a whore, Thomas Shelby knew how to fill you and you were starting to love it. To need it.

Soon you came to naturally focus on his breathing. One slow inhale. One slow and longer exhale. Deep. Controlled. Comforting. “Breathe in.” His Brummie accent hypnotized you and his musky, expensive perfume made your head spin. You moaned louder — Dad would have heard you if he had been walking near Tommy’s office. “Breathe out.” Your breath melted together and suddenly, the panic of getting choked turned into an arousing experience. His fingers, strong and possessive, were pressing on each side of your throat, right under your jaw where he could feel your heartbeat against his skin. You rolled your eyes in the back of your head, the press of his palm and the lack of air sending your mind into a blissful haze. “Yes, Y/N. Just like this. I’m proud of you eh, my little pet.” He grunted, sinking deeper into your delicate intimacy, “Y/N.” Tommy’s husky voice moaned again and again, chanting your name as if he wanted all the employees of his freaking factory to know what he was doing to you in his office when your dad was working in the basement. As if he wanted them to know what had happened to you the moment they saw your staggering frame leaving his office disheveled and legs closely pressed together because of his cum running down the inside of your thighs.

I’m breathing with you, Mr. Shelby.

We’re breathing together and now

We are one.

Now you could dissect all the delicious cocktail of sensations you were undergoing: your tight pussy forced open, your walls throbbing, a mix of your wetness and his cum leaking from you and dripping on the wooden desk… You reopened your teary eyes, drowning in the cold cerulean blue of his enchanting iris, and parted your lips to talk, barely believing what you were about to say.

“Harder.”

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore

#comment rb #Brummie 🖤#Breathe With Me

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wannabevampire · 3 years ago

Note

Matt has a huge (pun intended) size kink and loves/is so smug about how his girl struggles to take him, how she whimpers and says he’s too big and won’t fit even though she’s trying SO hard to make him feel good too and he’s just like ‘poor little angel, too much for you? That’s ok, daddy can make it fit’ and would literally train her to take him UGH

HE DOES HAVE A SIZE KINK AND WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT

okay speed round because my phone is at 5%

(this isn’t really dark but it’s very mean!dom matt, and some stuff could be interpreted as dub con maybe…better safe than sorry!)

he goes feral when you wear his clothes. like actually it drives him mad. it doesn’t matter where you are or what’s happening, if you’re wearing his sweatshirt he’s pulling you into the nearest room and fucking you till he cums and makes you keep it inside you for the rest of the day so you don’t forget your place 😵‍💫

so so so condescending when he realizes you get off on the fact that he’s so much bigger than you!!!

“oh aren’t you sweet…you like it when i treat you like this don’t you? you like that your brain shuts down when i’m around you. you like that all i need to do is utter a few choice words and you’ll fall to your knees and do whatever I say.”

he gets so mean and cocky when you struggle to take all of him!

“f-fuck matt you’re too big i don’t think I can.”

“aw sweetheart it’s cute that you think you’ve got a choice. you said you wanted this didn’t you? you’re always talking about how much of a big girl you are, so prove it.”

“crying already? you sound pathetic. just know, you’re tears turn me on so if you think that’s gonna make me slow down you’re wrong.”

then the after care would be so good!!!!

“so good for me sweetheart. my girl, so proud of you. always perfect for me.”

cuddles, bear hugs, more stealing matt’s shirts…

kisses :]

…

xoxo,

allie🕊

#ask answered! <3 #THIS IS FLITHY IM SORRY!!#mean!dom matt murdock #matt murdock headcanon #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock smut #dom!matt #daredevil smut #matt murdock

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untaemedqueen · 4 years ago

Text

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 17.

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Angst, Excessive Cursing, Fluff, Lactation Kink, Degradation (Cock Slut, Slut, Whore), Daddy Kink, Reverse Cowgirl, Possessive!Yoongi, Doggy Style, Praise, Controlled Orgasms, Begging, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Cream Pie, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pun

A/N: A huge gigantic and hearty thank you to my girls as always @xjoonchildx, @ladyartemesia, @ppersonna. I really wouldn’t get chapters done without them.

Days have bled into weeks. The large guest house has been lived in for far too long, or so you think.

It might just be the August heat getting to you, but you've started to hate the guest house.

"Where's my little dove?" Yoongi asks, taking his suit jacket off.

You know for a fact that the CEO is adoring this. He loves being able to be holed up in here with you and his child. He loves that no one bothers with you both, you're both able to carry on like normal people. But your hormones are making you go stir crazy.

When Yoongi smiles at you with his perfect teeth, you can feel your annoyance dissipating in the slightest.

He then frowns when you give him a half assed smile. "What's wrong? Who am I firing?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you.

Your five month belly presses into his stomach, and his eyes flutter shut gratefully.

"I'm sick of being in this fucking house." you grumble into his neck as he holds you tightly.

He sighs gently, he's been waiting for you to speak your mind. He's seen how annoyed you've been lately. He notices everything about you.

"I know, little dove. I'm sorry." he apologizes, rubbing your belly and planting a gentle kiss to your temple.

"I want to go and set up the nursery! I want to paint! I want to be able to go somewhere else besides this stupid gated community!" you complain, running your hand under your growing bump and situating it there.

Your boyfriend sighs, nodding. "I know you do, baby. I'm working hard to make that happen. I'm sorry it's not going fast enough for you and Sesame." he says, tilting your chin to look up at him.

"What if I eat your pussy? Will that make you feel better?" he suggests softly.

"No! It won't make me feel better! Because I'll be laying on the same bed I've been laying on for months, that isn't my own bed." you insist with a whine.

"Mommy's angry," he quips to your stomach, walking around the bar and pouring himself a glass of whisky.

You groan loudly, squeezing your fists out of irritation.

"If I have to look at another cat of nine tails or a flogger situated artistically on the wall, I'm going to blow up this house!" you threaten, pressing your hand to your side as your baby kicks inside of you.

The CEO chuckles above the lip of his glass, eyes softening at how you lean against the marble bar.

"You okay, little dove?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, the baby keeps kicking because they hate it in here as much as I do!" you whine.

Yoongi laughs gently, bringing the whisky glass to his lips. "I know. I'm working hard to make sure Myeyoung has enough in her account to cushion her fall when I file for the divorce." he promises.

You roll your eyes, huffing out loudly as you lean against the bar.

"You look pretty, practically glowing with my heir inside you," he offers.

You pout up at your boyfriend, the overwhelming urge to cry coursing through your body.

"It's just your hormones, baby. I know." he whispers, rounding the bar and pulling you into his arms.

"I just want to lay in my own bed, go in my own art studio, go in the nursery!" you sob, burying your face into his white dress shirt.

He coos gently, running his hand over your upper back comfortably. "I know, little dove, I kn-"

There's a knock at the guest house door, that draws both of your attention.

"Sir?!" the voice belongs to Maya and she sounds absolutely nervous.

"What's wrong?" he calls back, watching as she opens the door.

"Your grandmother is here." she announces, her hands fidgeting nervously with her tight bun.

"Oh fuck!" he curses loudly, grabbing the glass of whisky and downing it all in one gulp.

His hands cup your face, pulling you to look up at him. "I know your hormones are raging right now, I know you're uncomfortable here in the guest house. But, I need you to meet my grandmother. Okay?" he asks nervously, wiping his thumbs over your tear stained cheeks.

"But… I… Fine," you breathe out.

"Thank you, little dove. Thank you! Just be yourself. You're going to do fine!" he insists, grabbing his suit jacket and shrugging it on quickly.

You can tell how frightened he is and you need to pull it together. From what you heard about his grandmother from him, she's always given second hand doting. Meaning that she has always told him how loved he is without showing him any actual caring or affection. It just seems like he's never been loved in his life besides Maya.

From what you know Min Seyoung is a sharp, smart woman with a tongue as quick as a whip.

Turning to the mirror, you smooth out your summer dress, tilting your head at the reasonably large bump that protrudes.

"This is going to be… eventful." he hisses, pulling your hand.

At least you won't have to be in the guest house for now.

The mansion is a sight for sore eyes. Of course, you've seen it on your daily walks. You've entered it when Jin and Sera weren't home but you haven't lived in it in what feels like forever.

You're grateful when Jisoo hands you a strawberry sparkling water, knocking the summer heat straight out of your bones.

"Where is she?" Yoongi inquires, tucking his dress shirt into his pants.

"In your office." Mays says, handing him a glass of whisky quickly.

"Thank you. Come on, little dove. My grandmother doesn't like to be kept waiting." he rushes you.

You've honestly forgotten what nervousness feels like these past few months. You haven't had to worry about a damn thing, but now with Yoongi tapping his fingers to his thighs rhythmically, you remember it all too well.

Each step up the marble stairs sends your body flitting and coursing with nerves. The way he runs his fingers through his hair, the way he sips his whisky is something far beyond what you've ever seen. His back muscles are tense through his suit jacket, the base of his hairline already sweating and you know it's not from the heat outside.

Standing in front of the office door, you swallow thickly as Yoongi takes a deep breath. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a second before he's shoving it open.

"Grandmother," he announces curtly.

The woman is older, her skin practically wrinkle free. There are a few frown lines by her mouth but other than that her skin is smooth. When she looks at her grandson, her eyes soften just the slightest degree but nothing else changes. She doesn't smile. She doesn't even acknowledge your presence.

"I haven't seen you in five months," she huffs.

Her voice is that of irritation and disbelief.

"I've been busy. This is Y/N." Yoongi says, pressing his hand to your lower back comfortingly.

Her eyes zone in on you in a second, fingernails tapping incessantly to the desk beneath them. As she looks you over you can feel yourself becoming smaller, wanting to hide anywhere.

"Yes. Your grandfather told me all about Y/N. Sit." she instructs.

Yoongi nods a fraction, pulling your chair out for you. Your knees shake as you sit, a gentle hand placing on your stomach feeling your child kick inside of you.

"She's pretty," his grandmother surmises.

"Yes, she is." the CEO agrees with a gentle smirk.

You look down at your lap, feeling awkward and confused.

"Maya tells me that you live here still, but both of your beds haven't been slept in for a long time. Where have you gone?" she inquires.

Well she's not shy in the least.

"To the guest house, we've been staying there." Yoongi answers honestly, sipping his whisky.

"Why? Are you not pleased with Sera? You've gotten some random poor girl pregnant and just forgotten all about her?" she goads.

You cringe at the sharpness of her voice, holding your stomach tighter. When Yoongi notices, he doesn't take kindly to how uncomfortable you are.

"She's not some poor girl, she's my girlfriend. And I haven't been pleased with Sera since the day I married that leech."

His grandmother scoffs loudly. "Your girlfriend? Are you twelve? You need a girlfriend? What's suddenly changed in your dynamic?"

"I fell in love." Yoongi replies quickly.

You take sharp breath through your nose, you've never spoken those words to each other yet.

"Oh please," his grandmother mumbles, rolling her eyes.

"Grandmother, I'm sorry but I don't know what you're doing here." your boyfriend says, folding his arms.

"When you never even notified us that an article came out about you, that was evidence enough that your girlfriend has warped your mind. What is it exactly that you think you're going to do? Divorce Sera? Live happily ever after with Y/N in this mansion?"

"Yes in fact! I do think that! I deserve it!" Yoongi cries out, gripping tighter onto his glass.

You do not want to be here. You can barely contain the squeak that tries to leave your lips as his grandmother slams her hand down on the desk.

"We have given you what you deserved! And you're throwing it away!" she retorts, narrowing her eyes at you. "Anything to say?!"

"Don't speak to her like that! She isn't someone that you can think so lowly of! She's pregnant with my baby! My heir! She's the love of my life!" Yoongi yells, slamming his glass down onto the desk.

When you look over at him, you can see the neck veins jutting out of his skin. His face is pink with anger and you cower at how furious he is.

"If you think for one second we're going to accept that baby, you've lost your min-"

"You have no choice! Sera is sterile! She isn't able to have kids! And I don't want anything to do with that leech cunt! I have everything I want!"

That news drops like a bomb. You had no idea. Your eyes flutter shut, hearing your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

"If that is true, you should leave the Min legacy to your other family. Not some poor-"

"I SAID STOP CALLING HER THAT!" Yoongi bellows, kicking his chair out from beneath him as he stands.

His grandmother leans back in her chair, her lips pursing while her eyes narrow.

"I have already drawn up divorce papers! I will file them! I will kick Sera out on her money grubbing ass! Y/N, is not leaving my side for a fucking second! She's my family! Unlike everyone else that's been around me since my childhood! She's not going anywhere!" he says, downing the rest of his whisky and slamming the glass back down onto the desk.

"Then you will lose your position as CEO," his grandmother says simply.

You open your mouth to refuse but Yoongi speaks first.

"You can try it. You can take it to the shareholders and request it but they know since I've been put in charge that our sales have gone up forty five percent. They know that I was able to pay them hundreds of thousands of dollars more for their holiday bonuses than any of the CEOs before me. They know that I get shit done. You wanted an heir and you fucking got one. Now you're not happy?! You're a hypocrite!" he scoffs, running his fingers through his hair.

"Little dove, go wait for me downstairs," he whispers, cupping your cheek.

"Stay where you are," his grandmother instructs and you're caught between the both of them.

Yoongi rounds your chair, pressing his hand to your growing belly. "There is no one in the world that is going to take my fucking family away from me. My baby, my heir -- means the world to me. This woman, this beautiful woman sitting in this chair -- has brought me more peace than should be allowed in one man's life. There is nothing you can do to me that will make me change my fucking mind." he seethes through his teeth.

His grandmother hums inquisitively, tapping her fingernails to the desk once more. "So what do you plan to do then?"

He starts to cool down, his boiling blood beginning to soothe. "I'm going to divorce Sera."

"When?" his grandmother prompts, putting her manicured hand beneath her chin.

"When I feel the time is right," he says confidently.

"Before the baby is born?" she inquires, raising an eyebrow and looking at your stomach.

"Yes." he breathes out.

"What's the gender?" his grandmother inquires.

"We don't know yet, we're finding out tomorrow."

"You better hope it's a boy." she murmurs, already bored of this tit for tat.

"I'll be happy with whatever Y/N gives me." he replies truthfully.

"We did not raise you this way, Yoongi. We raised you-"

"You didn't raise me. Maya did. My father burnt holes into my chest to try to teach me how to be a person and he learned that from your husband," Yoongi quips.

You close your eyes, feeling a headache already coming on.

"Oh my God," you whisper under your breath.

"And you, Y/N, what is your take on all of this?" his grandmother asks.

You're completely at odds, you've never dealt with anything like this in your life.

"Leave her out of thi-"

"I was not talking to you, Yoongi!"

He sighs softly, pressing his thumb and pinky finger to either temple.

So for once you just let everything go. "Mrs. Min, I'm very sorry if I've brought chaos into this house because of me being pregnant. But, I love your grandson very much. I know I'm not the perfect choice for a CEO but I've been working very hard to learn about what a woman has to do to take care of things on her end. I'm very happy to be with Yoongi and so happy we get to have a family together. I might not be like Sera, I might not come from money but I've never wanted Yoongi's money at all. I just want my baby to be loved and taken care of."

Yoongi runs his hands over his face, this is why he adores you. You're such a good girl.

"Oh dear lord, you're too sweet to even be angry at," his grandmother scoffs.

You can practically see the cogs turning in her head. Your boyfriend runs his thumb comfortingly over your bump but you're still nervous. The power this woman exudes could bring civilizations down.

"Well, what are your skills? You have to bring something to this family." she determines.

Your mouth opens to reply, is she accepting you?

"She's a wonderful painter!" Yoongi says quickly.

Min Seyoung tilts her head, running her hand over her long ponytail. "Show me." she orders.

He stands up straight within a second, fixing his suit jacket. "By all means," he replies, opening the office door for her.

You begin to frown, you don't show your paintings to anyone. It's just a hobby!

"I mean, they're okay they're not-"

"Van Gogh would adore them!" Yoongi compliments, watching his grandmother walk out first.

You sigh gently, earning eyes from your boyfriend. "It's okay, baby!" he mouths, holding his hand out to you.

You take his hand reluctantly, standing up slowly from the chair.

"Easy, little dove." he whispers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his grandmother watching you both and it makes your legs shake out of nervousness once more.

"Her art studio is just on the second floor," Yoongi says, slinging his arm over your shoulders.

Min Seyoung hums, folding her arm beneath the other as she combs her fingers through her long black hair.

There is awkward silence while you walk down the stairs, your eyes lingering on the deadbolted room that first brought you and Yoongi together.

"It's just next to the nursery!" Yoongi says.

"I have to tell you Y/N. I take art very seriously." Yoongi's grandmother informs you.

Yoongi rolls his eyes, knowing she's just trying to make you nervous.

"You're going to be impressed," he promises.

She hums nonchalantly as you all stop in front of the art studio.

Your palms become sweaty, head swimming and you greedily chug the strawberry water to cool yourself down.

When the door is swung open, you bite on your bottom lip nervously.

Your done paintings line the east wall of the room while your unfinished ones line the west.

You've missed being in here, the faint smell of paint and paint thinner make you relax.

Seyoung folds her hands behind her back as she wades through the room. Her eyes narrow at your paintings and your breath catches in your throat.

"I-It's just a hobby… So…" you find yourself explaining.

"They're beautiful, baby." your boyfriend insists in your ear.

"Well," Seyoung says, tilting her head at the bird hanging from a bird feeder painting, "you do have skill."

Yoongi sighs gratefully, his shoulders straighten up and he kisses your temple softly.

"Why aren't these in art galleries?" his grandmother inquires.

Whoa. That's a big compliment.

She turns to you, head tilting and expecting an answer.

Yoongi steps away, a proud smile spreading over his face.

"Well… It's always just been a hobby. I've never put any stake into it."

"Pretty and humble and sweet?" Seyoung murmurs, raising an eyebrow and looking at her grandson.

He beams at her, sending her the happiest smile he can muster.

"No wonder Yoongi is so fond of you."

You can feel your skin blushing as the corners of her lips finally quirk up.

When she turns back to the paintings, she points at one of the black and grey paintings you've made.

"Is this an ultrasound of your baby?" she asks, leaning forward to inspect it.

"Yes, it's one of three." you reply, smirking as Yoongi runs his hands over your arms excitedly.

"I'd like to have it. To put in my office." she says, turning back to the both of you.

You find yourself smiling, nodding to her statement. "Of course, it's your great grandchild after all!"

She hums humorously. "So it would seem."

Yoongi takes it down from the wall carefully, his eyes enraptured with the painting.

"You'll be a good mother." Seyoung determines, folding her arms.

As Yoongi wraps the painting in bubble wrap, you can feel his grandmother's eyes on you. "Let me suggest something to you both since you seem so intent on keeping one another."

"Please, by all means," Yoongi replies.

"Make it easier for yourselves. Make Myeyoung put Y/N's paintings in her gallery. Set up a contract with Y/N for the new mall, have her make some artwork for it since we don't have any art yet. Get Y/N's name out there so when you do get your divorce from Sera, she won't just be a poor girl that got pregnant on a whim." his grandmother insists.

Yoongi looks up slowly from the painting, his eyes widening.

"You want Y/N to make the art for the Gangnam mall?" he asks, surprised.

"Do as I say Yoongi."

"Yes, grandmother! Right away!" he bubbles excitedly.

Your mouth opens in shock, your hand sliding over it with widening eyes.

"Bring it down to the car, I have a dinner meeting. Y/N, I'll be seeing you soon I'm sure. Yoongi, try not to stir up too much drama for the family name." Seyoung orders, running her hand over your stomach as she exits the art studio.

When the baby kicks beneath her hand, you catch her gentle smirk before she's off down the hallway. "Tell me tomorrow if it's a boy or not."

"Holy shit," your boyfriend breathes, chasing after her with the wrapped painting.

Standing alone in the art studio, you find yourself starting to laugh, hands combing through your hair in shock.

"Grandmother, thank you!" Yoongi whines, finally catching up with her in the museum wing.

When she turns to him, her eyes soften completely. "You're right, you deserve this. Now do it the right way or don't do it at all." she says, taking the painting from him.

He bows to her deeply, "Yes, grandmother. Of course."

"Is Sera really that bad?" she asks, opening the front door.

"Yes," he gasps.

"Well, better to be rid of her then." she surmises, walking out to her car.

Yoongi leans against the doorway, watching as she climbs into the car. If his grandmother somewhat approves, half the battle is fought already. He sighs happily, running his hands over his face.

"Yes!" he whispers fiercely, shaking his fist and slamming the door shut.

It didn't take long for Yoongi to find you, he knew exactly where you'd be. He smirks at the sight before him, you laying down in your bed, hand on your stomach.

"Hi, beautiful." he whispers, kicking off his shoes.

You look up as you hear his voice, a smile spreading over your face.

"I missed this bed," you mumble.

He hums, kneeling at the end of the bed.

You look gorgeous, hair splayed out over your pillow. He finds something tugging at his heart this evening. Something full of burning passion.

"You said you love me," he avows, bending down to kiss you.

"You said it first," you quip, cupping his cheek as he kisses you languidly.

"Because I mean it," he breathes out.

"So do I," you reply.

His hands grab at your hips, teeth tugging on your bottom lip sensuously enough that your pussy clenches around nothingness.

You whimper against his lips, the sound sending arousal flooding through his bones.

"Fuck," he curses, lifting you up.

When you're sitting up comfortably, his fingers pull down the zipper on the back of your dress. His warm hand spreads over the skin of your back.

"I want you around me," he whispers wantonly, rutting his hardening cock against your stomach.

"Daddy," you beg against his lips, feeling your arousal drip onto your panties.

"Get this fucking dress off," he orders and you're quick to do his bidding.

Standing tall before him, you shrug the dress off. He groans gently at your half naked body, his hands greedily grab at your sides to pull you between his parted legs.

His lips kiss at the curve of your swollen breasts, suckling small red petals to your skin marking you as his. You whimper loudly as he snaps his fingers to the clasp of your bra, your breasts bouncing free with a sigh.

"Look at you," he mumbles reverently, peeling the lace away from your skin.

He sighs happily, eyes looking up at you as he trails his lips over your ever heating skin.

"You're beautiful, little dove," he praises, running his hands over your back to the globes of your ass and palming the skin roughly.

You gasp his name loudly, head lolling back. His lips encircle your stiffening nipple, tugging on it sensually.

When he suckles your sensitive skin, your body shudders in his grasp.

"D-Daddy!" you whine, your fingers carding through his black hair.

He hums against you, his tongue quickly flicking at your nipple.

When he suckles once more, you gasp loudly, eyes rolling back. He can taste something creamy on his tongue, and he groans loudly, pulling you closer to his body.

"Fuck, your milk is here," he whispers, cupping your forsaken breast. His fingertips pinch and roll at your nipple, his breath becoming short and caught in his throat as he feels small droplets of milk land on the back of his hand.

"Oh, little dove." he groans.

With blurry, lust filled eyes, you begin to unbutton his shirt.

His hand leaves your ass to cup your stomach, his cock throbbing painfully hard through his suit pants.

Shoving off his shirt and suit jacket, he forsakes your breasts all together. Kissing over your protruding belly, he unbuttons his pants with feral need.

"God, you're incredible." he breathes out, tugging down his pants.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth as his cock is freed. The long length is throbbing, the mushroom tip red with needy desires.

His fingers enmesh into the sides of your underwear, he tugs them harshly, the lace turning into mere strings within his grasp.

"Fuck, you're soaked. You little cock slut," he seethes through his teeth, spreading your legs to get a better view.

Strands of arousal cling to your inner thighs and you whimper as he drags his fingertips along your sodden lips.

"Daddy, fuck." you whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

"Come here," he commands, running his thumb over your cheek.

He wraps you in a passionate kiss, his tongue rough against yours.

"Sit on my cock," he whispers against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

His fingers rub smooth circles on your clit, your thighs locking as pleasure begins to course through you.

Turning around, your bottom lip purchases between your teeth. Yoongi takes his time, running his hands over your warm flesh. His hands grope at the globes of your ass, kissing over your shoulder as you begin to sit down.

He curses gently, eyes raking over your back.

He can’t begin to understand why he was just so against having sex with you a few months ago. Now, he just can’t control himself. He needs to be in you, around you, on you all the time. Maybe it’s because he loves you more than a single person in their lifetime should -- or maybe it’s because the bond between you, his pregnant girlfriend, and him is just so strong with his child within you.

Gripping the base of his cock, he watches with wondrous eyes as you part your legs over his. Your sodden cunt glides over his length and he curses so softly, it seems to vibrate through you.

"Don't tease, little dove." he commands, but it comes out like a whine.

You steady your hands on his knees, slowly sliding down onto his cock.

The moan he emits, so raw and animalistic sends your body shaking with anticipation.

He's never made love to a woman before you, and now he can't get enough. He enjoys how your breath stutters when he praises you, he adores how tense your body gets as he gives you his pleasure. Everything about you is his -- and it's perfect.

You whimper loudly as he stretches you, your hand hooks around the back of his neck. When his hands palm your breasts, you can feel your pussy quivering and clenching around him.

"I can't believe you're producing milk already, you're such a good mother, hmm?" he whispers in your ear, lips trailing over the shell.

"Y-Yes Daddy," you whimper in reply.

His fingers pinch and roll your nipples gently, the action sending your head lolling back to his shoulder. You grind your hips down on him, adoring how he begins to breathe heavier in your ear.

"God, your pussy is so warm, baby. So fucking wet," he seethes through his teeth.

When you lift up on shaky legs, one of his hands leaves your breast to cup your stomach.

"Daddy, your cock feels so good." you murmur.

"Show me how much you love my cock," he begs, nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.

You begin a steady pace, bouncing on his cock with gritted teeth and starry eyes.

"Oh fuck, there you go, little dove. Making my cock feel so fucking good, baby girl." he breathes out, suckling his marks to the column of your neck.

When you whimper his name, he feels as if he could explode on the spot.

"Your belly feels so nice and big in my hands, little dove." he praises, eyes fluttering shut.

"Y-Yeah? It feels good?" you ask, your voice turning into a whine as you bounce faster on his cock.

"So good, baby. Feels so fucking good." he replies, rubbing circles sensuously on your stomach.

The sound of your wetness echoes throughout the room and you can barely hold yourself together as white hot pleasure courses through you.

"Who does this pregnant pussy belong to? Hmm? Tell me," your boyfriend goads, pinching roughly at your nipple and growling as milk droplets coat his honey skin.

"My pussy belongs to you! I belong to you!" you cry out, swiveling your hips.

"Christ! That's right, little dove. You belong to me!" he seethes, running his hand from your breast to the apex of your thighs.

Your moans become louder as he begins to rub circles to your clit, your mind becoming hazy and foggy with lust.

"God, your cunt is so fucking messy, little dove. You love my cock that much? Your filthy slut of a cunt can't handle my big cock, you're creaming all over me." he moans, pressing his forehead to your shoulder.

He can feel your body tensing and stuttering on top of him, he knows you're becoming tired. His hands grip at your hips, flipping you over easily. You gasp loudly, grabbing onto the edge of the bed.

"Fuck, you like it when Daddy manhandles you like the little whore you are?" he asks, gripping the back of your neck for leverage.

He pounds into you like a man possessed, something animalistic taking over him.

"Yes! Feels so fucking good!" you cry out.

Running his tongue over his lips, he can feel your pussy begin to clench around him. You're close.

He cups your stomach, holding you steady as he fucks into you harder. The quickness knocks the oxygen from your lungs and you can only babble a semblance of his name.

"God! You're incredible!" he whines, throwing his head back.

When he lets go of your neck to spank your ass, you can feel your orgasm approaching like a windstorm.

"D-Daddy! Cumming!" you cry out.

He moans loudly, his balls beginning to tighten as your arousal drips down his thighs. "Fucking hold it." he instructs.

You sob loudly, pressing your face into the mattress. He spanks you roughly, the sight of his handprint smarting on your skin heightens his pleasure. He can hear your small mewls and whines as you bury your face deeper into the bed.

When he rubs your clit, feeling how hot and throbbing it is, his eyes roll back. "God, your clit is so swollen, you little slut."

"Daddy!" you beg, white knuckling the sheets in your hands.

"Cum." he commands and you fall undone with that simple word.

Your heartbeat roars in your ears, emitting sobs of pleasure into the sheets.

He curses loudly, gripping at your hips. He begins to drive himself home within you, adoring how you squeal and beg for more beneath him.

"Pregnant little slut beneath me. Letting me defile her dirty pussy with my child inside her. What does that say about you, baby?"

Sluggishly raising your head, you whimper. "I'm your little pregnant slut."

He curses loudly, pulling out of you and flipping you over.

"You're my little slut, hmm?" he prods, thrusting back into you with unrivaled quickness. Your nails claw at his arms, nodding with a whimper.

He wraps your legs around his waist, pounding into you with everything he has.

You watch with loving eyes as his black hair sticks to his face, how he looks down at you like you put all of the stars in the sky just for him.

His hands rub at your stomach, bottom lip tucking into his mouth.

"Why're you my little slut? Cause you like my big cock fucking your cunt open? Is that it? You like how I split your pregnant pussy open like this?" he asks, pinching at your leaking nipple.

"Because I-I love you!" you cry, running your hands over his chest.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, the words sending him into a sensory overload.

"Fuck, I love you too, little dove. I love you so much baby, it fucking hurts me!" he mumbles, feeling his cock begin to twitch and throb within you once more.

"God, you're so beautiful," he praises, finding himself coming to an end.

You gasp loudly when he palms your swollen breasts once more, how absolutely gentle he is.

"You're gonna make me cum, baby." he whispers.

Your pussy clenches around him again and he knows you're close to your second orgasm. He wills himself to wait, dying to feel your release just one more time.

Your thighs lock around him, quivering and shaking.

"You're close, huh beautiful? You want to cum on my big cock again? Want me to feel how much you love me?" he asks, running his thumbs over your continuously leaking nipples.

You nod incessantly, back arching off of the bed. "Gonna cum again for you Daddy, you make my pussy feel so good!"

"Good girl," he praises.

He lifts your hips higher, the head of his cock dragging against the sweet spot inside of you with each thrust.

You scream his name in ecstacy, your eyes squeezing shut as he curses.

"Daddy!" you warn loudly, grabbing onto the sheets beside you.

"Fuck yes, hold your belly and cum for me!" he instructs, fucking deeper into you with every stroke.

You do as told, holding the weight of your stomach in your hands.

"Cum," he seethes through gritted teeth and you see stars.

Your cum squirts onto his thighs, your body shaking and whimpering.

"Fuck! Good girl, little dove! I'm cumming!" your boyfriend moans loudly.

You gasp loudly, feeling his warm cum paint your cervix. He breathes raggedly above you, hands running through his sweat soaked hair.

"Jesus Christ," he gasps, his throat tight and dry.

You whimper when he pulls out of you, your bottom lip tucks between your teeth.

"I fucking love you," he whispers, watching how his cum begins to cream from your swollen cunt.

"I love you too," you breathe out.

He hums gently, minding your stomach as he bends down for a kiss. His lips are soft and loving against yours.

"So you're going to be a super famous artist now? I get to live with one of the greatest forward thinking, artistic minds?" he quips, pulling you into his arms.

"What? That's Leonardo Da Vinci. Do I look like a Leonardo to you?" you retort with a laugh, curling into his side.

"Maybe… Although you look more like a Donatello to me."

You snort loudly, rolling your eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Well you're a smartass," he gripes, slapping your backside gently.

"You're lucky I love you," you mumble, pressing your face into his chest.

He shivers as you kiss over his small tattoos, eyes fluttering shut gratefully. "Not as much as I love you." he whispers, running his hand over your back gently.

"This is the start to something good, little dove. I can feel it." Yoongi declares, kissing the top of your head.

Once the ball is rolling, there's very few things that can stop it. And Yoongi intends for it to roll all the way to divorce court.’

Next Chapter ---->

Third Wheeling Taglist - @wickizer, @imluckybitches, @slothykreuger, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland, @rspbrryy, @iv-bts, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts, @mxxngxdss, @bluewhale52, @milesjeon11, @diamonddia-mond, @vinylphwoar, @yxnxxli, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn, @bts-7beauts, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace, @eclectically-esoteric, @nikkiordonez12, @kaitswrld, @skamlover200, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria, @jikooksgirl19, @hobbledehoy26, @singular-itae, @dchimminie, @lowlifeoeuvre, @sugaslittlekookies, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth, @softysuho, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @betysotelo18, @jeonmisha, @iwanttohitmyself, @ayyyocee, @neverthefirstchoice, @itsbangtanoclock, @little7bitchh, @veryuniquenamegoeshere, @deathkat657, @firstlovesuga-93, @namjoonia, @paperpurple, @muzikabijou, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites, @kleff03, @ruinsofangels, @brightwingr5, @leekanchol, @rkivemagic, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside, @melaninkpops, @y00ngisbabygirl, @ungodlyjoon, @prochnost513, @dunixxd, @athenakyle, @igotnotype, @chxmachxps, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog, @alpaca1612, @ohcarolinamin, @thegreatestsushi, @eltrain80, @btsmylife21, @deeepvibes, @httpminyg, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @rkchmestizangmaldita, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie, @preciouschimine, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii, @kooafraid, @ladykadyrova, @singjisu, @yazanii, @moonlitmyg, @justzeera, @absolutefantrash, @whocaresarchives, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx, @bt21chim, @flowerboyhobi, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper

I’m sorry for those it didn’t tag, even some that have always been able to tag just didn’t today and I don’t understand why!

#third wheeling #btscreatorscorner #thebt #btswritingcafe #ficswithluv #ceo!au #ceo!yoongi #yoongi smut #dom!yoongi #pregnant smut

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babyybitchhh · 3 years ago

Text

Draken x Reader 18+

Title: The Last Stall

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 3,977

Warnings: daddy kink, over the knee spanking, punishment, humiliation/degradation, dirty talk, public, toilet blowjob, passing mention of vomit

A/N: This is something quick and not overly polished I spit up instead of working on any of my existing wip's. lmao (but in sad) I really need to stress the warnings on this one, specifically the toilet blowjob part because I know that might squick some people out. u_u

P.S. yes, the title is a pun and I'm unreasonably proud of myself for that one, haha. Please enjoy (?)

♥♥♥♥

Your whining pleas fall on deaf ears as Ken drags you, tripping and stumbling, towards the nearest bathroom in the largely deserted train station. The hardly conspicuous snickers from the rest of the group filters up behind you, serving only to highlight your shame and make you further regret every poor choice you’d made today. Sure, you’d been acting like a brat off and on, here or there, but was it really that different from your usual?

And more importantly, was sticking your tongue out at him really where he drew the line?

“Please, Ken,” you mewl, tugging back on his hold even though you knew damn well it wouldn’t get you anywhere. “I promise I didn’t mean it like that. It was just a joke!”

He doesn’t respond, and your stomach does a nice little somersault when you glance up only to find the signage for the restrooms looming right overhead. You weren’t sure what he planned to do once he got you inside, though you could certainly take a guess, and you bring your opposite hand up to try and pry his fingers off your wrist in a last ditch effort.

No such luck, of course. He was just too strong, too big for you to escape from once he already had a hold on you and your feet inelegantly shuffle over the threshold into the men’s room no matter how hard you try to put on the brakes.

Stopping long enough to make sure no one else was already in here, Ken pulls you down the row of stalls and into the last one where he slams the door shut hard enough to make you squeak. Your heart is in your throat as you sheepishly peer up at him and he levelly stares right back as he flicks the lock into place without missing a beat.

“I’m sorry?” You try in a small, hopeful voice.

“I gave you plenty of chances to be sorry earlier.” He intones. “You’ve been asking for this all day, princess. Don’t act surprised now that you’re getting it.”

“But, Ken - -“

“The only butt I’m concerned about right now is yours.” He gives your arm a pointed tug. “Come here. Now.”

You momentarily consider kicking and screaming your way out of this but Ken must see the thought flash across your face, because his frown deepens in warning. Realizing he’d be just as happy to go about this the hard way, even in a public space, you hesitantly close the distance between you and him on shuffling little steps.

Satisfied with your decision to cooperate, he releases his hold on your arm so he can bend down and reach under the skirt you were wearing. A quiet whimper bubbles up in the back of your throat when he hooks his fingers into the elastic of your panties, falling into a crouch as he tugs them to your ankles in a single fluid motion.

“Step out.”

You comply, slowly, and he tucks them away in the pocket of his jeans before rising to his full, towering height again. It would be nice to say you’d come to terms with your fate, or rather the fate of your ass, but he still manages to catch you off guard when he reaches out to grab you by the back of your neck and yank you forward into a half bent position. The physical strength in his lanky body manages to be impressive even now, and you choke on a haggard sound as he loops an arm over your back so he can haul you right up off your feet.

“Wait!” You blurt, alarmed by how much of the tiled restroom floor was suddenly taking up your line of sight. “I’m sorry, Ken! I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again! Really!”

A sharply delivered smack over the cotton of your skirt has you yelping. “I bet you won’t after this. How’s it feel being drug off to the bathroom like a child to get spanked? Huh?”

You can’t help withering at that, and a startled whimper bursts out of you when he tucks you more securely under his arm with a rough jostle. Then, to your surprise, he pivots so he can smack his boot down on the edge of the toilet and pull you over his bent leg, propping your ass up in the air for the perfect angle to strike at.

Practically wheezing, you blindly reach up to fist one hand in the back of his jacket while the other latches onto the arm holding you around the middle. God, you’d really done it this time. He was not happy with you at all.

“First things first,” he starts, punctuating each word with a swat to either cheek. “You wanna’ tell me why you’ve been such a goddamn brat today?”

“No …” You murmur only to cry out when he brings his hand down again, harder this time.

“Second chance.”

Blinking back the sting of humiliated tears, you suck in a faltering breath. “I don’t know … I just thought it was fun.”

Barking out a humorless laugh, Ken lands two more slaps across your ass. “And are you still having fun, princess?”

“Mm’not.” You sniffle sadly.

“Good.” He hits the left cheek and then the right in quick succession, making you lurch in his hold. “I’d be doing something wrong if you were. But I think I was pretty lenient today considering all the shit you pulled. What made you think I wouldn’t burn your ass up for acting like that, huh? Thought you could get away with anything just because we were in public?” Another scoffing laugh to accompany the sting of his palm striking you over your behind. “Do I really seem the type to let shit slide because of that?”

“Nooo …” You whine, squirming at the steady burn that’s settled into your skin now. His hold on you is unfaltering though, so you resort to impotently curling your legs up in the air to try and dissuade him instead.

But Ken merely shoves them away so he can spank your ass twice more before flipping your skirt up to expose you to the full brunt of his swing. You seethe when the cool air touches your inflamed skin, goosebumps erupting all across your body when it makes the nerves sting even more.

“Then why did you try me, princess?” He prods, hand flattening across the swell of your ass so he can rub the pain in with his abrasively callused palm. “We didn’t have to do this, y’know. What do you think the guys are saying right now? You think they won’t know exactly what happened in here?”

The first smack against bare skin is easily the worst yet and you wail in agony, uselessly kicking your feet out behind you. “I’m sorry!”

“Not yet you aren’t.” He promises.

Another set of blistering swats has the tears you’d been fighting back so valiantly dribbling down your flushed face, unhindered, and you’re distantly aware of the soft plop of them hitting the restroom floor. The pain was starting to reach fever pitch now, you weren’t sure how much more of this you could handle without devolving into ugly sobs, but you already knew he wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied.

That’s just the kind of guy Ken was.

“Daddy …” You choke out, hoping to appeal to his emotions even if only enough to cut your punishment in half.

It doesn’t seem to sway him though, and his heavy hand lands across your backside hard enough to make your head swim. “It’s a bit late for that now, wouldn’t you say? You don’t get to be daddy’s good little girl” smack “when you’re bent over his knee” smack “getting spanked like a bratty baby. That’s not how this works and you know that.”

Struggling just to breathe through it, you pitifully writhe against him. “Mm’sorry, daddy … I should have been good …”

“That’s an understatement.” Ken scoffs.

Readjusting his hold on you with a brief jostle, he spanks your ass a few more times before pausing to drag his palm across your blistering skin. You seethe at the stinging, burning pinprick sensation but he isn’t quite done yet, and a frantic wail rises up out of you when he starts up again.

“Next time you’re going to make better decisions, aren’t you?”

“Y - yes!”

“And you’re going to suck my cock when I’m done spanking you, right?”

“Yes, daddy, I will! Anything!”

He noises a soft grunt of approval as he peppers both cheeks with a handful of sharp smacks meant to drive his point home. “And then you’ll apologize to everyone for being such a bratty little girl when we go back out there. Look them all in the face and explain why you needed to get your ass beat.”

Hanging limp from his grasp now, all you can do is nod your head in shame but Ken clearly expects a verbal response, and he brings his hand down hard to make you squeal.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“I will! I’ll apologize to eh - everyone for being bad today!”

“Good call, princess.” Delivering another solid strike to both cheeks in turn, Ken finally lets up on your poor behind in favor of rubbing his warm hand across it. The hiccuping sounds of your crying quickly rushes in to replace the continuous slap of skin on skin that had once dominated the empty bathroom, and he quietly shushes you after a long moment of letting you get it all out. “Calm down, baby. It’s over. Just take a deep breath, okay?” He says, gentle now in place of the stern and reproachful tone he’d been using with you.

Obediently, you suck in a haggard, stuttering breath and let it out in one big woosh but it does very little to ease the hurt of your spanking. At his encouragement, you do it again and then again until you finally start to come down from it one piece at a time. Soon enough, your broken sobbing recedes to soft, sniffling whimpers and he gives your sore rump an approving pat that makes you hiss before moving to lower his leg off the toilet.

“You know I don’t like punishing you like that.” He murmurs, gently setting you down on your feet and even though you know that’s not the whole truth you still find yourself leaning into the comfort of his arms when he pulls you into a hug. “I just want you to be good for me. You know that, right?”

Face buried in his shirt, you nod your head.

He sedately drags his hand across your back in comforting circles until you eventually calm down a bit more some moments later. Pulling back to look at you once your shoulders have stopped trembling with muffled sobs, he reaches up to thumb some of the moisture away from your face. “There’s my pretty girl. You ready to suck daddy’s cock so we can get out of here? Hm?”

You offer him a tremulous, hopeful little smile and nod.

Pleased, he moves to unfasten his pants and you lick your lips in anticipation, squirming on the spot. You’d be lying if you said your pussy wasn’t just ever so slightly damp after that and it eagerly clenches when his thick cock springs up in the air. He manages to surprise you, though, when he shuffles around you and takes a seat on the toilet with his jeans shoved down around his ankles, allowing him to spread his legs in a wide v that leaves his heavy ball sac hanging in plain view.

You gulp. Hard. “Like that?”

Ken nods once as he reaches around to take himself in hand and slowly pump, the motion making his foreskin bunch at the top and then pull back just far enough for you to see the visibly wet glans poking through. “It’s what you deserve for being such a bad girl, isn’t it? A little humility will do you some good, princess.”

At your hesitation, he hums a low sound of warning and you grudgingly shuffle closer so you can kneel on the floor. Your stomach clenches and flips over itself, repulsed by your close proximity to the public toilet, but you were resigned to see this through to the end. A healthy serving of degradation was left on the negotiation table after discussing limitations and hard passes so it wasn’t like he’d presented you with a completely left field request.

At least you still had your safeword.

At least the toilet looked clean.

Drawing a steadying breath, you place your hands on Ken’s slim yet muscle heavy thighs and lean forward. His unoccupied hand comes up to meet you halfway, cradling the curve of your skull and guiding you to the waiting tip of his penis. You give it a lingering kiss as if in apology, then slowly work your way down the underside of it one peck at a time until your lips meet his curled knuckles where he’s still gripping himself. You kiss those too, reverential, before rising up on your knees even as they ache in protest against the unforgiving floor.

You weren’t sure which was more painful, that or the constant burning heat that encompasses your whole ass, but you resolve to ignore both for the time being. Opening your mouth wide, you flick your tongue out to lap across the exposed glans, tasting a dollop of bitter precum, and Ken issues a slow, sighing breath through his nose.

“You might not want to take all day, princess.” He murmurs, tightening his hold on your head and pushing down so that you’re forced to accept a quarter of his length into your waiting mouth. “The guys’ll start to get antsy if you don’t speed it up a little bit, and I don’t think you want another spanking for holding everybody up.”

Whining at the mere suggestion, you blink back a fresh rush of salty tears and begin bobbing your head, making sure to hollow out your cheeks on each upward pull. He moans into the still quiet after a long beat and then shifts, reclining against the back of the toilet. This alters the position of his pelvis, just as he’d likely intended, and with no other choice you hesitantly lean further over the bowl. The added effect of jutting your bruised ass up in the air only seems to highlight your humiliation even more, and you’re ashamed at the way your pussy needily clenches in response to it.

“Good baby. You look so hot like this, you know that? Don’t know why I didn’t think of this sooner …” Pausing, he releases his cock and brings the hand up to affectionately brush some of the hair from your face. Gathering it up and then back, he digs his fingers in on either side and grips hard at the root as he pulls you into a faster bobbing motion that leaves your mouth noisily schlucking around him. “Only bad girls get treated like this, you know. I hope you remember that for next time. Come on, princess. Look at me while you’re sucking me off.”

Slowly, you swivel your gaze upward to lock on his face and you squirm when you find the heavy lidded stare he’s got leveled on you. If it weren’t for the slightest draw of his brows, the faintest dusting of pink high up on his cheekbones and the faint sheen of sweat on his skin you would almost think this were any other blowjob you’d ever given him. Not one administered after a blistering spanking nor one taking place in a public restroom over a toilet. The fact he seemed so unbothered, so impartial to the plight you’d brought on yourself only drives the point further home and you suck in a faltering breath through your stuffy nose.

The sound catches his attention, dark stormy eyes lighting up with alertness and he softly coos at you. “What’s the matter, baby? You feeling like a filthy slut down there or something?”

You pitifully nod your head, struggling to swallow around him. The flex of your throat makes him groan, very softly, before tipping his neck back in relish.

“Glad to hear it. That was the point, you know …”

The distracted note in his voice when he trails off tells you he’s enjoying your mouth, so you slide one of your hands inward to grip him around the base and pump, eager to be done with this humiliating act of service. Ken allows it for a long moment while he simply luxuriates in the sticky warmth of your tongue lapping along the underside of his cock, but then he stirs as if out of a light slumber.

“Don’t forget the balls, pretty girl. Ya’ gotta’ show them some love too.”

Actively grimacing in disgust, you start to bring your opposite hand down to caress Ken’s hanging sac but a low sound of warning stops you short. You understand what he wants all too well and you pull off him with a small wet pop, taking little gasping breaths as you regard the challenge in front of you. The toilet did in fact look clean - probably only recently scrubbed down before you got here. May not have even been used yet since then.

But knowing what it was still makes your gag reflex react, and you choke in the back of your throat. You didn’t really want to do this and, sensing your uncertainty, he lets up his hold on your hair in favor of caressing down the sides of your face in a comforting gesture.

“You wanna’ stop? Just say the word, princess.”

You seriously consider it for a short beat, but you ultimately decide not to. Not when you were already down here, demeaning yourself like this, because it would feel like a waste of your efforts. You’d gone this far, how bad could another inch towards depravity really be?

Besides, this was your penance for acting out so much today. The cycle of give and take you’d settled into with him couldn't properly come to a close so another could begin until after you’d earned his forgiveness for this transgression, and you so badly wanted that more than anything else.

Resigned, you swallow your nerves and tip his cock back towards his stomach, drawing his ballsack higher, and then lean down. Revulsion makes your stomach roil into a tight, uncomfortable knot even as you slip your tongue out to take a tentative lap at the sinfully smooth skin of his scrotum. When you don’t promptly retch and throw up all over the place (at least you were already in the perfect position to do so) you dip your face just that little bit lower to suck his left teste into your mouth.

Ken absolutely seethes at it, his thighs noticeably tensing up around your face. Apparently he hadn’t expected you to really do it and you feel a brief surge of victory, glad to catch him off guard even at the price of your own dignity.

Slightly more sure of yourself now, you suckle at his nut while lazily pumping him with your hand and you delight in the way the motion pulls on his sack. The groaning sound of fluster that comes out of him only further emboldens you and you let his teste pop out of your mouth with a wet smack so you can alternate to the other. The smell of sterile cleaning products, bleach and other disinfectants, swarm your nose, almost covering the heady musk of him while you make a pointed effort not to glance down at the bowl. A small relief at this point but one nonetheless.

You weren’t so sure your churning stomach could withstand the close up visual no matter how clean it looked.

“Shit, baby. That’s it. Such a good girl … you make daddy so proud, you know that?”

Warming under his praise, you release his sack and lick a wet stripe along the seam right up to the underside of his cock. You work your way higher still until you’re rising above his lap again where you guide him into your mouth, taking him as far as you can go. The muscles in his thighs visibly twitch, gradually tensing up for you, so you put your all into bobbing up and down his length again, squeezing the base where your lips can’t quite reach. That sticky schlucking noise pitches through the still air once more but you’re hardly in any shape to be embarrassed about that, of all things, so you keep at it until copious amounts of drool are running down his cock.

You only grip him tighter when it reaches your knuckles, leaving a bubbling mess across your hand. He’s getting close though, you can tell by the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and draws his brows up, pelvis tipping towards your slobbering mouth just a pinch. It has you leaning into your work, pumping your face over his cock so enthusiastically it almost makes you dizzy. Your reward, the pay off, finally comes in the form of his massive hands sliding back to grip at your hair, mindful even in this shuddering state not to pull, and you let him shove you down on him with a delighted little squeal.

The blunt head of his glans bumps against the back of your tonsils and then keeps going, wedging itself into your throat just enough to make you choke. You still couldn’t take all of him straight to the base but you could endure this much, your eyes rolling into the back of your head when he suddenly shoots hot, clumpy ropes straight down your gullet.

“Fuck!”

An undignified, snorting cough jostles you as you force yourself to swallow, working your throat around the intrusion, and that only makes him hiss at the contraction. Callused fingers tremble against your scalp while he holds you in place, shaking through his orgasm, before finally letting you come up for air once he’s spent his release into your gut.

You reel back with a gasp, head spinning and fingers digging into the meat of his thighs to try and steady yourself. Ken leans forward almost immediately with a soft coo, cupping your flushed face in his hands so he can tip your head back and kiss you. He moans quietly at the taste of himself on your tongue and you lean into the gesture, happy to be back in his good graces again, but he pulls away much too soon for your liking.

“You did so good, baby. I’m so proud of you for pushing through that.” He murmurs even as you whine at the loss of his mouth, thumbs idly brushing over your cheeks. “I know that was hard but you wanted to make it up to me for your bad behavior, didn’t you?”

At your sad little nod, Ken smiles and pulls you closer so he can kiss your forehead. Your heart gives a soaring thump inside your chest, a smile pulling at your lips despite your best attempts to fight it down. Reservations aside, that hadn’t been half as bad as you’d thought it would be and you were glad for that too.

“You’re gonna’ get a nice little treat for being such a good girl for me when we get home.” He promises in a soft voice that puts you further at ease. “Let’s go ahead and get cleaned up though. Everyone’s probably left us by now.”

All but grinning now, you lean up to accept the last kiss he affectionately presses to the tip of your nose. “Okay, daddy.”

#tokyo revengers #draken x reader #ken ryuuguji #self insert bullshit #my writing #draken

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whosjunglejim4322 · 4 years ago

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Alpha!Hybrid Au, SMUT, PWP, soft dom Yuta bc ur his baby, bestfriend!to lovers, arguing, pussy eating, jealousy, BREEDING KINK, unprotected sex (pls wrap ur willy), monster cock agenda

He's in trouble. The huge, colossal, has to hang his head in shame type of trouble. The worst part is that, he doesn't really feel bad about it, that kid had it coming and - fuck, no, he shouldn't think like that. But he can't fight the instinct, as hard as he tries.

"I'm so sorry, I really am I-" he stutters, trying to find the right words as you stomp away from him towards your room, continuing your maddening silent treatment that he knows only means he's really fucked up.

"I shouldn't have done...that, I know, I know." His voice is strained, desperate in his feat to prove his sincerity. It's nearly impossible to describe its magnitude when he has yet to admit how he really feels about you. It makes the whole situation that much worse.

"You...you actually growled at him, Yuta. Mark Lee. He's a friend of mine, a good friend! And you-" you've finally turned to face him, kicking your shoes off and slinging them to the nearest corner, your anger a tangible force. "you nearly scared him half to death!" You scold, still shivering at the thought.

He looks like a puppy whos just been reprimanded, no pun intended. He allows you to push past him to the kitchen, following behind you with urgent footsteps and continuing his pleads of understanding. This is eating at him in more ways than one.

"I couldn't help it, you know that-" you scoff, interrupting him while you turn to meet his wide, guilt ridden gaze.

"Don't give me that alpha bullshit." You know it's a low blow, probably the lowest you could muster but you're just so damn annoyed. He doesn't know what it's like to be a human so close to such a guttural sound as the one he used to establish dominance earlier tonight. It's like being next to a hellcat, the roar of an engine that reverberates throughout every bone in your body.

You'd been so shocked, so embarrassed for Mark that you hadn't even registered the fact that it licked such a hot flame inside of you, furthering your outburst and only igniting feelings that you shouldn't be having in the first place.

Your unrequited feelings for your best friend probably just add fuel to the fire, considering you're mostly angry at yourself for the way your body actually had the nerve to like the prospect of Yuta being jealous. You should be embarrassed.

"Hey, that’s not fair," He practically whines, losing his sanity with each passing second. "I'm not lying when I say that I couldn't help it." You know he's telling the truth, and he knows that he couldn't have fought it off even he wanted to.

He could smell Mark's change in scent whenever you laughed at one of his jokes, could see the way his eyes would linger on you whenever he thought no one could tell. It came to a head when the human boy actually had the audacity to slip an arm around you while in one of his laughing fits. The feeling was like a dam bursting, hot lava through his veins pushing the sound from within his chest.

You rip open the door of the fridge in search for a bottle of water, and he waits for your response, his heart pounding in his ears like thunder.

"He'll probably run for the hills next time he sees us, if he even wants to talk to me again at all considering the stunt you pulled-"

"Why is that such a bad thing?!" The words spill from his mouth like he hasn't got a choice, the truth so close to trickling off of his tongue. "He clearly has such an obvious, nauseating crush on you and actually thought he was being oblivious - he wanted his scent on you."

Yuta takes a step back, shoving his slim fingers into his raven hair before rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes, frustrated. Your heart suddenly thuds at an uneven pace in your chest, belly flipping wildly with a mixture of emotions.

Without even having to think about it you're stepping closer towards his trembling figure. He's got his fists clenched and you know his nails are likely digging into his palm, a habit formed from nervousness, or other emotions when they become too overwhelming for him.

"What are you even talking about, He doesn't-"

"Yes he does, I would know what it's like firsthand," surprisingly the words are easier to say than he previously thought, cathartic from the way he's held them in for so long. It's like once he starts he can't stop.

Your jaw has gone slack, body sweltering as you stare at him from a few feet away. He looks like he's holding on to the edge of ration, trying so desperately not to scare you away.

"I can barely think straight when I'm around you, it drives me crazy and that human - he was practically glowing from your presence alone and I couldn't stand it I- he doesn't even know what it's like to love you."

You feel like the wind has been knocked out of you, feet planted steady on the ground but somehow you feel like you're spinning. Your body feels like it's been lit like a live wire, his utter vulnerability and the sheer magnitude of the feelings swarming in his warm irises, spearing heat through your lower abdomen.

He looks pained, suddenly. More so than before and the need to reach out and touch him, to do something to soothe the agonized furrow between his sharp brows, feels borderline unbearable.

"I should go - fuck, I'm so sorry I'll leave I never should have even come tonight."

He's backing away further, nails still digging into the meat of his palms when your feet finally unthaw from shock, moving towards him before he can twist the doorknob.

It's like placing your hand on a heater, the temperature almost scalding. He's still shaking like a leaf in autumn, his breaths ragged and skin glossy.

He's still flinched away from you, as if scared to so much as glance up at you, and it feels like your chest is being cracked open.

"Don't leave, stop, okay?" The break in your voice catches his attention and suddenly his eyes are boring into yours, low and dark, riddled with too many emotions at once.

Your hands are suddenly grabbing his, much cooler than his scorching skin as you uncurl his fists. The crescent moons are already healing.

"You don't have to be sorry, I haven't been honest with you and I - I love you, too." You speak softly, bashfully almost as you pull him closer, stroking his cheek with the back of your knuckles. He feels as though he might combust.

"You...you do? Really?" He's dumbfounded, shaken from his core in a way that has him trembling in a different way all together. He steps closer and you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek, the heat radiating off of him in waves.

You reach out, moving his dark, disheveled hair from in front of his eyes, chills rising from your skin as he leans into your touch. He looks dazed, lost in everything you say. He's so beautiful up close, golden and silky and glowing. You squeeze your thighs together.

You don't miss the way he glances from your lips and back to your eyes, nostrils flared slightly as you nod back at him. You even forget how easy it is for him to sense your emotions, to know exactly what it is you're feeling.

"Say it again." The timbre of his voice has lowered substantially and it has your knees weak as you grasp onto his sturdy shoulders, his pink tongue darting out to wet his unfairly plump lips. You're the one with the fever now.

"I love you, Yuta. I love you."

He groans.

"Oblivious, so oblivious. Don't even know how fucked you have me, do you?" His hot fingertips graze the side of your neck and you press your chest against his, the surface of your lips barely skimming past one another, noses touching.

Finally, with a fleeting permissive gaze into your eyes, he closes the space, giving air to your lungs and dousing gasoline on the blaze.

All at once he's crashing against you, soft mouth feverish in the way he suckles your bottom lip, wet tongue lapping into your mouth. He swallows your petulant whine, shoving you as gently as he can against the kitchen counter, needing to keep you steady against something.

Your fingers grip handfuls of his hair as your pelvises meet, rubbing against the other with a roll of your hips. It's like a magnetic force, stronger than anything either of you has ever felt.

"Please, please." He begs sweetly. your hardened nipples rubbing him through his thin tee shirt, thigh suddenly hiked up around his narrow hips. You don't even have to ask what it is he wants, ready for any and everything he offers. It's like nothing else, kissing him like this, hearing the product of your effect on him. Your fantasies could never do him justice.

"Yes, Yuta." You reply through the desperate kisses he presses to your mouth, his forehead against yours, one hand locked at the nape of your neck. A sound a bit less menacing than the one that started this whole ordeal in the first place, vibrates through his chest and he's all too aware of the way it sends a satisfied tremor through your body.

"I've dreamt of this," he strains, as three dexterous fingers slip into the waistband of your bottoms, yanking them down at inhuman speed. Your gasp is against his cheek, before he's gone suddenly.

Not gone, in between your legs. You look down when you feel a hot puff of breath against the soiled patch in your underwear.

"so many nights I would cum to the thought of you, just so I could come over and not make a fool out of myself. Fuck, you have no idea."

His admittance has your thighs wavering as he pulls them apart, marveling at your clothed sex and running the tip of his slim index finger over your covered slit. He keeps you steady by the back of your knees.

He gazes up at you through the thick of his lashes, eyes topaz and thick with fog from the way your arousal has gotten him worked up. You can't believe this is actually happening.

"I- I do have an idea." He keeps his eyes on you while he mouths the innermost skin of your thighs, the feeling warm and ticklish, causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

"Tell me, baby, go ahead." Fuck, he still sounds so sweet despite the pure desire dripping from his tone. It's need in the rawest form. His teeth nip at your skin, softly, and it pushes the words from within tour throat.

"I've touched myself so many nights- to the thought of you and - ohhh, mmm," You throw your head back, muscles twitching as he places his mouth over the wet spot in your underwear, licking and sucking as if to torture himself. You feel the faintest prick of his nails against the back of your thighs before the feeling disappears, most likely him trying to stay centered.

"Yuta, please." You reach down, pushing his dark muss of hair away from his forehead, being driven mad by the way he's mouthing your pussy through such a thin layer of fabric. He's tempted to hear you beg some more, the sound unbearably sweet.

But he's too hungry for you to not only deny your pleasure, but also to deprive himself of such a delicacy. He all but rips the flimsy fabric from your lower half, lips parting with unbridled appetency from being so close to the sweetest source of honey.

He can't find it in himself to tease anymore, succumbing to his all consuming desire before you can gasp for the second time tonight.

It's heat, seering and wet and sloppy with the way he takes your clit into his mouth. The sounds are so raunchy, he's practically cooing against your sex while his thick pink tongue comes out to lap at your entrance.

If he weren't holding you up by the backs of your thighs you would have fallen straight to the floor by now, entire body fizzling with a burn that melts you to his touch.

"Mmm." He hums against your slit, dark lashes fanning against the highs of his cheekbones as he closes his eyes in bliss - nose pressed against your mound as while shakes his head back and forth. His plump lips - lips you've dreamt of being right where they are now, on your most sensitive of parts - suckle your folds before circling your swollen bud with the tip of his pink muscle. His wild hair tickles the inside of your thighs.

He's practically bursting from his jeans but he channels that energy elsewhere, cock throbbing angrily at it's neglect but he's too focused to care. He's wanted this for so long, never thought it possible. He always knew you smelled different around him, sweeter. He's not dumb. He knows the effect he has on you.

But now that he's sure, it's a whole different experience. You're dripping, barely able to hold yourself up as he eats you like a man starved. He kisses you as passionately as he did earlier, these lips just as soft and addicting as your others.

He takes his index and ring finger, spreading you open and licking at you with deliberate, indulgent stripes. The sight is too much to even witness, your best friend, your Yuta, heartbreakingly beautiful as he's always been. Except this time he's eating you out in the middle of your kitchen.

"Y-Yuta m'gonna - oohhh, fuck." He doesn't take this as a warning, he takes it as a challenge. You're not sure you can handle anymore, body on overdrive, spilling over with pheromones. This makes him all the more hungry, all the more enthusiastic.

After all, that is your bestfriend. Always going the extra mile for you, always there when you need him. His eyes open and he's peering up at you like you're the sun, strong hands wrapping around your soft hips and rocking your hips against his mouth.

You can all but read his expression, the urgency in which he wants you to fall apart. He coerces you with his penetrating gaze, and you wonder how you've held out from cumming this long.

All at once it hits you, a stroke of his skilled tongue while he moves you against it, making up for your lack of strength. The sound he lets out is close to a whimper, forcing your thighs open when they threaten to close around his head.

It's like having every single one of your nerve endings doused in pure euphoria, it fills you like a balloon and bursts into a thousand sparks. You're almost afraid he's not going to stop, that he's gonna lick you raw until he's kissing you again.

Your eyes are still closed shut from the magnitude of your orgasm, the taste of yourself suddenly on your tongue as his lips move against yours. Despite your state, you're quick to respond, spent but not completely satiated. Not when you know that this is really happening, that the line has already been crossed and more than that - he actually loves you back.

He's still holding you steady when your shaky hands paw at the waistband of his jeans, missing and stroking the firm appendage that's bulging out to the right.

He convulses, lurching against you before you're wrapped around his waist, being carried into another room you suppose but it doesn't take very long. Your back hits a bed and you realize he's carried you to your room.

So many nights spent with him here, binging countless shows that are really only entertaining because he's there to watch them with you, him letting you play with his hair and styling it every which way when you're bored and have nothing else to do.

But even bad nights as well. Nights where everything in the world felt so overwhelming, crying in his arms seemed like the only thing that could give you some sort of release. And he'd always be there, waiting and ready for you no matter what mood the day might have put you in.

You arch against him when he begins to mark your neck, right over your carotid artery, moving to the sensitive skin under your ear. You suddenly feel very alone in your nakedness and your patience is wearing thin, your eagerness to see him in all of his glory an emotion that you hadn't realized was so strong.

His chuckle is warm and familiar in your ear, his smile bright and provoking a strange surge of urgency to move through you when he hooks his finger onto the hem of his shirt and pulls it from his body.

You almost want to yell at him, to curse him for ever holding out on you this long. You've seen him shirtless before, he's spent the night and showered at your place plenty. It's just that, now, it's different. Completely different. And you're grateful for the way he allows you to marvel openly.

He's panting while your palms are placed on the lean, tanned planes of his body. From his shoulders to his chest down over his sides, you wish you could kiss every inch of him.

It's when your fingers pass the fine dark hair just under his navel that your eyes finally land upon the intimidating hard on he's sporting, his stare heavy as you go to to undo his button.

He helps you in pushing them down his thighs, before he places his forearms on either side of you, caging you against him while he kicks the garment off. Your hands wander any expanse of his brilliant skin as they can reach, and you know that he's basking in it.

Especially the way you breathe his name when his clothed cock nudges your naked center, reminding you that this is really happening and that he's going to be inside of you.

It's thrill, swirling in your belly, and as potent as pure adrenaline when your curiosity and desire overpowers your nerves and you cup him through his underwear. Your expression gives away your exact thoughts, the unabashed surprise and wonder at feeling him like this.

His eyes seem to darken even more, if possible, as he tongues the inside of his cheek, smug.

"You want it bad, don't you?" He taunts, this side of him making you feel whiny in the best of ways. It causes you to pulse around nothing, the way he peers down at you with such a cocky, avaricious expression.

"Yes, Yuta I want it bad," you wrap your arms around his neck, playing with the soft hairs there as you pull him down to your mouth. "Please fuck me, please."

He grunts, his hand cupping your jaw one second and gone the next. You feel his knuckles graze your pelvis between your bodies, and you realize he's taking his underwear off, the butterflies suddenly in your throat.

You feel it before you see it, bare and naked against you, that is.

It's big. Bigger than you expected, and you already suspected that with confidence like his, it was generous in size. He drags it through your folds, hugged between the softness of your lips, nose nudging your jaw.

"You're so beautiful....m'so lucky baby, so so lucky." He pants, your thighs tight around his torso, heels digging into his lower back. Your cheek is pressed against his hair and the scent of his shampoo calms your raging pulse, your heart is surely giving away just how much this is affecting you.

The tip of his dick grazes your entrance and you throb, bucking up against him in a manner that causes him to groan, further grinding his hips against you and allowing just the head to begin pushing into you - the easier portion of him to take at first - before he suddenly stills.

"Condom, fuck I didn't even think-"

You interrupt his pained admittance, the words spilling from your mouth before he can even finish, your senses overpowered.

"It's okay, just fuck me raw."

This has his body convulsing again, a guttural sound reverberating in his throat as one hand suddenly cups your face, like its as breakable as fine china and as delicate as a honeysuckle. The expression on his beautiful face has you pushing up against the head of his dick again, his jaw tight.

"Don't just say that, please," He fights back the urge to plunge into you all at once, honey eyes locked onto your half lidded gaze as you writhe underneath him. "such a dirty fuckin' mouth, do you really mean that, darling?"

You're nodding fervently but he needs an answer.

"Yes, I mean it I really mean it, Yuta." You whimper, and its the confirmation he needs to continue. Slowly but surely - only as to not hurt you - he's sliding into you, and the stretch is more overwhelming than you thought it'd be, nails digging into his skin.

He watches your expression the entire time, thumb stroking your face and lips kissing the swell of your cheek.

When he's finally bottomed out, the fullness makes it hard to move, though it's not much of a setback when he's being so caring and attentive, prepared to make you feel good.

"Are y-you okay? Does it hurt?" He stutters, expression laced with genuine concern as he swallows. You don't even pretend not to stare at his neck, his chest.

"Just...it's just a lot, you're so big," He stifles a gruff sound in the crook of your neck, your hand rubbing up and down the hot expanse of his smooth back. The discomfort doesn't last long when you're here with him like this. "you can move Yuta, move."

You don't mean to sound so pressing but your body feels touch starved, like you want more and more and more. That desire is fulfilled when he begins to drag himself out of you before pushing back in, clamping his teeth into his bottom lip as he does so.

He's not slow for very long though, not by a long shot. In between making out he's on his haunches, looking down at the sight before him, taking in the squelch of your wetness around his thick cock while you paw at his waist.

It's different, so different and so good. You're all but shell shocked, mouth agape while he rolls his hips into you. Every time he thrusts back into you you’re jolted, squeaking due the depths he's managing to hit.

"Oh baby, you're taking it so well. Knew you would, always knew you would." He's breathless, gripping onto your hips with fervour, kissing you sloppily.

Everything feels so vibrant with him, so visceral. You're barely able to speak coherently, and it's causing a stir within his belly that threatens to burst. You claw at his waist when he thrusts at a particular angle and you keen against him.

"Ooohhh,Yuta Yuta Yuta." You coo, face suddenly covered by your own hands as you feel tears welling in your eyes from the way his bulbous tip massages that spongey spot deep inside of you.

Between just a breath, you're on your stomach, the absence of his dick leaving you feeling all to empty just for a second, before he's plunging back inside.

You fist the sheets while you rock back against him, the sounds leaving his throat deep and resonant. You're not propped all the way up, he knows it might be too much for you like that right now but it's enough. Enough for the dirtiest thoughts and needs to boil inside his blood, to spill from his mouth. Like he can't even help it.

"Mmm, wanna fill you with my cum like this, have you dripping with it. Bet you'd look s-so pretty, fuck." He's dissapearing inside of you at a faster pace and you go limp, his strength too much to try and keep up with along with the fact that his admittance is leaving you even more fucked out than you were before.

"Y-Yes, want you to fill me up Yuta. Oohh!" You're sure his fingertips will leave bruises but you're too gone to think about it, not when he's suddenly got a hand around the back of your neck, front pressed against your back while he pumps himself into you.

"Yeah? Bet you'd like that, walking around being stuffed full. I want you all - shit - all to myself, get you big and swollen." He shudders against your neck when a ripple of pleasure has him momentarily reeling, pace sloppy and fierce. You're gripping onto the sheets for dear life.

"Fill me up, I want you to give me your babies. Want you and only you."

This provokes something inside of him that he hadn't ever thought really existed, at least not when it came to how he would feel in this particular situation. It's a carnal feeling, seeping down his spine and into his hips and has him pistoling into you too fast-

He keeps going as thick ropes of his cum fill you up, more abundantly than you thought possible. You can feel it, the warmth in your insides and even as it trickles out and down the back of your thighs. He kisses the cheek that isn't pressed against the mattress, still groaning while he pumps it into you.

And he doesn't stop.

His dick is still rock hard, covered in his release and your arousal alike and the glide is like silk, the sound loud and invasive and perfect. You're reaching back now, carding your hands through his hair and he senses your need to touch him.

Once again, it's a blur before you realize the position has changed. You're on top of him and his knees are locked underneath you, heels raised on the mattress while he takes you like this from below.

You openly adore him for a second, like this. He's glowing in his post orgasm state, ethereal in all forms. His broad lips are pursed, slightly parted and kiss bitten to a pretty plum shade. His high cheeks match, and his hazy eyes stare up at you with all the admiration in the world.

"You like when I fuck my cum into you like this baby? Gonna make an even bigger mess for me?" He says it so sweetly you feel like you might cry, everything far too much for a moment while you bury your face in the safety of his neck, the scent of his skin sweet and familiar.

All you can do is whine really, the wanton sound pathetic and weak and adorable in every sense. He wants to give you the world more, the moon and stars.

"That's it baby, I got you. You can let go for me, my sweet girl. Bet your little pussy just wants to cum so bad."

His strong arms wrap around your body and cage you to his figure when the pleasure finally overflows, wracking your body like an earthquake and leaving you unable to do anything other than bear it.

He kisses the side of your head, makes sure to circle his hips while you pant his name over and over in his ear, pussy clenching around him and fluttering wildly. He can hardly believe he's actually just gotten to make you fall apart, that he is the one who has you nearly in tears against his chest with his cock buried to the hilt inside of you.

He doesn't dare move. Even after a few minutes, you're still shaking and twitching, and he holds you all the while. It's more than perfect, it's everything. That might be dramatic for some but for him, for you, it's like finally coming home.

Because, it's been so long. So long since the moment you two first met, and since you realized that this person was not someone you could live without. For so long, it felt impossible to admit your feelings.

The risk of losing each other was too great, excruciating even.

But now that you're together, in the purest form there is, connected in the most intimate of ways, and he wishes that he would have told you sooner. You both do.

Never again. You'll never slip through each others fingers, ever again.

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