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bluejaysandblackbats · 15 days ago

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Keepsafes

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: AU where Martha and Bruce survive, and they adopt the batkids.

Chapters: 5/?

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Thomas Wayne, Martha Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Harvey Dent, Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, David Cain, Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake

Relationships: Thomas Wayne/Martha Wayne/Alfred Pennyworth, BruHarvey, BruTalia

Additional Tags: Canon Divergent AU, Hurt/Comfort, Bruce Wayne is Not Batman, Angst, Alfred Pennyworth Knows All, Bruce Wayne Only Has One Child, Bruce Wayne is Not An Only Child, Bi Bruce Wayne

Chapter Five: Battleship

Alfred served lunch while Martha and Thomas discussed what happened. Bruce sat quietly, still feeling like he might be in trouble. “You’re still not telling me when Bruce can return to school, though, Martha. You’re scaring me,” Thomas uncomfortably chuckled as he glanced at Bruce. “Thank you for lunch, Alfred. Would you like to join us today?”

“I feel as though it might be inappropriate at the moment, Master Thomas,” Alfred replied.

“Oh, come now, Alfred. You’re part of the family. Sit, please,” Martha whispered as she grabbed his hand. Thomas nodded with a serious grin on his face.

Alfred sat down without another word. “Now, Martha, what’s happened?” Thomas asked once more.

“Bruce isn’t technically in any kind of trouble for what happened today… However, he isn’t allowed to return to the campus until he’s completed a psychological evaluation to ensure a smooth return to his usual schedule. The other children will be severely punished for their act of cruelty,” Martha explained, “Here’s the card they gave me, Thomas. Are you acquainted with this doctor?”

Thomas looked at the card. “I know Isaiah in passing. He’s probably one of the best child psychiatrists in Gotham. He’s a card... Bruce, he’s a lovely person. Dr. Paterson is an innovator. He comes highly recommended for his unorthodox style of treatment. I think the kids call it fun, ” Thomas joked. Bruce made a soft noise, but he was too scared to laugh.

“Does the school think that something’s wrong with me?” Bruce asked.

“No. Of course not,” Martha replied, “This is normal procedure to make sure you can adjust after what you went through. The school doesn’t want you to experience any undue stress by rushing you back into class. It’s all for your emotional benefit.”

Bruce nodded. “We’ll call Isaiah after lunch. Don’t be frightened. I love therapy. It’s like being on a talk show,” Thomas whispered. Martha knit her brows together and whispered something to Alfred, and he snorted. Martha was the only one who could make him laugh.

Bruce liked how tenderly Alfred and his parents were with each other. They weren’t like other people with their butlers. Alfred wasn’t invisible to them. He was a part of the family in every aspect. Still, it confused Bruce a little to see how close they were. Sometimes, he’d notice Thomas lingering in the hallway with a hand on Alfred’s back or Martha tickling under Alfred’s chin when she asked him for something. Bruce always assumed that they were just close. He knew that Alfred knew his Thomas before they’d even met Martha, but they seemed much sweeter than longtime friends. And Alfred’s constant presence made him seem like another parent. Bruce loved Alfred, and he knew Alfred loved him, too.

“ You see this, Bruce? Your mom and good old Alfred teaming up on me? Your poor old man, ” Thomas teased as he snuck a few apple slices from Martha’s plate. Bruce giggled, and Thomas held a finger to his lips.

Three days later, on a Friday morning, Thomas took Bruce to see Dr. Isaiah Paterson. Isaiah was a tall man with a thick head of red coily hair, thin frameless glasses, and layers of baggy clothes despite the summer’s heat outdoors. He leaned forward, smiling with perfect teeth and freckles painted across his hooked nose as he reached forward to shake Bruce’s hand. “Don’t tell me… You’re Thomas Wayne, right?” Isaiah teased. Bruce blinked hard and shook his hand. “A joke. I know you’re Bruce. Sorry, I’m a bit of a jokester. You can call me Isaiah. How goes it, Tom?”

“It goes,” Thomas chuckled, “Thank you for fitting us in, Isaiah. I’ve been a fan of your work for some time now. How are you?”

“I’m great. Don’t worry about anything, Tom. I’ve got him,” Isaiah reassured him.

“Thank you, Isaiah… Bruce, I’ll be right here if you need me,” Thomas whispered. Bruce waved at Thomas as he followed Isaiah into the office through the French doors. It felt like an entirely different house. The French doors led to an open space set up like a playroom in the house, leading off in two different directions. Straight ahead of the door was a greenhouse, and to his left, another door led to a hallway.

“I know it can be scary to open up to someone you don’t know, but I can assure you that this is a safe space,” Isaiah reassured them both. “Well, Bruce, my sessions are a little bit longer than the typical sixty minutes because I like to start out with a game. We can go out back and play a sport, or we can stay inside and play one of the games here. I’d like you to pick. As long as we’re playing, I’d like for you to ask me anything that you want to know about me.”

Bruce looked at Isaiah, studying him with soft eyes as he examined the iron-on patches and other accessories before turning away to pick a game. “Can we play this one?” Bruce asked.

“Sure. Battleship is a pretty cool choice. Let’s set up,” Isaiah smiled as they sat on the large green rug in the center of the floor. Isaiah opened the box, and they quietly set up. “Anything you want to ask me?”

Bruce nodded without looking up. “How long have you been married?” Bruce questioned.

“Ten years this October,” Isaiah answered.

“Is she okay?” Bruce asked in reply. Isaiah cocked his head before chuckling.

“You got all that from looking at me? You’re very observant… And my wife is fine. She’s Deaf. I fell in love with her the moment I met her. She saved my life once, and I was so madly in love with her that I learned American Sign Language just so I could ask her out… And before you ask, we’re both members of Greenpeace,” Isaiah replied, “How long have your parents been married?”

“Twelve years,” Bruce answered.

Isaiah nodded. “How’re they doing? I know that they’ve had a tough summer,” Isaiah noted.

Bruce frowned. “Mom and Dad don’t fight. Sometimes they both look sad, but they smile for each other a lot still,” Bruce answered.

“That’s good,” Isaiah whispered. Bruce looked up from the board and his forehead wrinkled with narrowed eyes as he waited for Isaiah to say something else. “What’s wrong?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me about what happened at school?” Bruce asked. Isaiah finished putting his pieces on the board, and he sat back with his hands on his knees.

“Is it important?” Isaiah asked.

“That's why I’m here,” Bruce answered. Isaiah cocked his head, feigning confusion. “Do you not know what happened?”

“No,” Isaiah replied. That was the truth. His knowledge of the incident was vague. All he knew was that there was violence involved.

Bruce put his last few pieces on the board, and he mirrored “I was crying… They should’ve stopped,” Bruce muttered.

“Who were they? And what did they do?” Isaiah asked. His voice was soft as he set up his hands to play Rock, Paper, Scissors . Bruce called scissors and Isaiah did paper.

“They chased me with confetti poppers because they’re loud like guns… But it was the smell that scared me. I was crying. They should’ve stopped… I ran until they cornered me, and I had to fight them. They weren’t going to stop,” Bruce’s voice trembled as he started to speak louder. And then he stopped… Pausing to contain himself.

“Bruce, I’m sorry that happened to you. That must have been very upsetting,” Isaiah replied. His voice was so emotional, but he was so reserved. Much more reserved than he’d been a few minutes ago. “Did you feel like you were in danger at that time?” Bruce tried to breathe to keep from getting emotional but the tears started flowing as he nodded.

“A-6?” Bruce questioned as he cried.

Isaiah made a soft noise of bewilderment as he answered, “Hit.”

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meiliarotten · 1 year ago

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Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 4: Vocal (Voice Kink)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Sniper x Fem!Reader

Summary: Yet another one with no summary. This was the first Sniper fic I ever wrote

Tags: Voice kink, begging

Word Count: 1.6k

The Masterlist

There were many things that you loved about Sniper. There was the professionalism with which he handled his job, and his drop dead accuracy on the battlefield, both of which had initially attracted you to him. Eventually you learned to love more intimate aspects of him, the scars that decorated his body, the way he growled low in his throat when he was on top of you, the gentle touch of calloused hands as the two of you basked in the afterglow while he soothed you with soft spoken praise in that deep, whispery tone.

If you had to pick a favorite thing about Sniper, it would probably be that; his voice. There was no denying that Sniper’s voice was, to put it bluntly, very attractive. God knows how many difficult situations he had managed to charm his way out of with words alone. You imagined the number was pretty high. It wasn’t even just the accent. It was the confidence, the volume, the words he chose- it all came together to create something incredibly erotic.

But there was one other aspect of that voice. One that only you were privy to, and as such, it was the one you valued most of all.

That was what you were after tonight, with the two of you safe in the privacy of Sniper’s van. You stroked his cock nice and slow, teasing him by refusing to pick up the pace. He whined before catching himself, clenching his jaw tightly to keep his noises at bay, but you still noticed.

“Does it feel good?” You asked with a chuckle, hoping to hear more lewd sounds from that alluring voice.

“Damn, love. I know what you’re trying to do to me,” he said through clenched teeth, determined not to give you the satisfaction of hearing him moan.

“Can you blame me? I love hearing those noises you make. After all, I’m the only one who gets to hear them,” you whispered as you leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek, letting out a small laugh as his stubble tickled your face.

Sniper looked as if he was about to retort, but cut himself off with a sudden moan as you ran your thumb over the head of his cock. Before he could clamp his mouth shut again, you sped up your strokes. The torrent of groans and soft curses was music to your ears.

“Yeah, just like that,” you sighed, admiring the sight. You stopped, receiving a frustrated groan and a sour expression in response. That look didn’t last long, quickly shifting to one of eagerness as you moved downward, licking your lips as you took in the sight of Sniper’s cock, precum beading at the tip and threatening to spill down his length.

You grinned, knowing that this was bound to draw some good sounds from him. You began by running your tongue along the underside before taking him fully into your warm mouth. Your hands rested on his thighs, and you felt him tremble with the effort it took not to thrust into your throat.

That pattern of trembling and moaning continued, increasing in intensity until you felt Sniper’s hand weave through your hair, tugging it softly. You got the message, immediately pulling back and looking up at him in confusion.

“Darling, stop. I don’t want to come yet,” he said, breathing hard as he tried to regain his composure. You pouted at him in mock disappointment.

“But you sound so damn good when you do,” you groaned, moving up to press a quick kiss to his lips. You saw the flush in his cheeks as you did so and grinned, knowing that it was in response to what you had just said.

You continued to press your lips against his, and it wasn’t long before the kisses turned rough. For a few moments, everything was a blur. The passage of time had escaped you, and at some point Sniper had managed to pin you beneath him, taking advantage of your gasps to slip his tongue into your mouth. You finally pulled away with a moan when you felt him slip a hand into your pants, the tips of his fingers teasing you below.

“See that, doll? You make some wonderful sounds yourself,” he said, the smirk he displayed making you feel weak, but not in a bad way. With a blush, you pushed your pants and undergarments down, getting them out of the way and allowing him full access to you.

Sniper hummed in appreciation and began to tease your entrance, rubbing circles around it and getting you nice and wet before finally pushing a finger in. You moaned as he thrust the single digit into you, and it wasn’t long before you were ready for a second. His fingers were long and he reached your g-spot with relative ease. You nearly screamed as he pressed more firmly, pulsing his fingers against the sensitive area repeatedly.

“You’re so bloody gorgeous, riding on my fingers like that,” Sniper growled, making a point to move close to your ear before speaking. You moaned at the dominant tone and the way he began to nip at your neck, decorating the skin with small bruises as he laid claim to you.

“You don’t just love hearing me moan and whine, do you love? You like hearing my praise too. I see the way you shudder and whimper when you hear it,” he said, continuing to read you like an open book and making you feel deliciously vulnerable as he did so.

You didn’t even get a chance to respond. Your attention was brought elsewhere when Sniper suddenly removed his fingers, earning a whine which quickly turned into a startled gasp when he flipped you over onto your stomach. You practically felt him looming over you, leaning in close to your ear.

“And I know you love it when I whisper in your ear like this, feeling my breath against your neck,” he said, running his fingers down your back. You felt a shiver run through your whole body.

You brought yourself up onto your hands and knees, feeling Sniper’s cock press up against your ass, still just as hard as before. Arousal continued to build between your legs as you thought about how needy he must still be.

“Please,” you whispered, moving your ass against his crotch to entice him further. “Fuck me!”

“Ah, there’s another sound I love to hear from you,” Sniper said. You could practically hear the self-confident smirk in his voice. “The sound of you begging for me .”

He entered you quickly. You were aroused enough that there was no discomfort. He wasted no time, immediately pounding into you at a rapid speed. He leaned over you, fucking you like an animal while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The experience sent your head spinning.

“God, you feel so bloody good,” Sniper groaned, practically leaning on you as he tried to maintain his breakneck pace. “You’re so gorgeous under me like this, taking my cock so well.”

You bucked back to meet his thrusts, feeling your orgasm approaching surprisingly quick as you listened to him heap praise onto you. His moans began to dip into that familiar half growl that you loved. It made the whole ordeal seem more feral and much more intense.

“Sniper, I’m close,” you said, your hands balling into fists as you felt yourself losing control. That was until Sniper’s pace slowed.

“Beg.”

“What?” You asked with a whine, trying to crane your neck to look back at Sniper, but it was no use when he was topping you from behind like this. You couldn’t see his expression, and it made his commands all the more intimidating.

“You heard me, doll. Beg,” he growled, sounding somewhat annoyed at having to repeat himself. “ I want to hear that pretty voice of yours plead for release.”

You shivered. To think, at the beginning of this whole ordeal, it was Sniper who was being teased, whining and moaning at your hands and tongue. You couldn’t help but admire the versatility it must take to go from that to this perfect picture of a rough, demanding lover.

“Fuck, Sniper-” A hard thrust to your g-spot made you stammer incoherently for a moment until you finally got your bearings again. “Mundy, please! Please let me come!”

“God, you’re irresistible. Such a good girl, fuck yes-” Sniper’s words trailed off into unintelligible curses and moans, his hips moving unevenly as he felt his own climax threatening to overtake him. “I’m close too, love. Go on and come. I want to hear you scream for me.”

You did just that, moaning shakily as you let your orgasm finally overwhelm you, riding it out to the sound of Sniper growling in your ear. He continued to moan in an almost feral manner as he finished as well. You listened intently, taking in every sound he made as he came.

It wasn’t long before the adrenaline began to wear off, and you found yourself trembling beneath Sniper as you began to lose strength. The two of you were left exhausted, and you collapsed atop of each other. The two of you laid there, entwined with each other, a tangle of limbs, chests rising and falling with labored breaths. Sniper had practically fallen on top of you but you were too spent to care. The weight was actually comforting in a way. It made you feel safe. Your eyes were just beginning to drift shut when you heard Sniper speak.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me, sheila. In a few minutes I’ll be up and ready to go again.”

“Oh really?” You said, tired, but also interested. You forced yourself to open your eyes, seeing his sly, grinning face looking down at you.

“I ain’t done yet, not by a long shot” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips against your ear, taking full advantage of how much you loved that voice of his.

#merc x reader #minors dni #tf2 x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #tf2 smut #smut #sniper x reader #sniper tf2 #sniper team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress sniper #team fortress #mick mundy

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maochira · 2 years ago

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Let me be crucified - on you! (Ryusei Shidou x reader)

Synopsis: Shidou has a crush on you and is VERY open about it. He flirts with you at any chance he gets but also ends up saying a few more or less unholy things.

Tags: gn!assistant!reader x Ryusei Shidou, suggestive flirting, 16+ I guess?, title is a line from Crucified by OOMPH! because it just screams Shidou energy to me

This is part of my Shidou birthday countdown event and also plays in my Neo Egoist League series!

Ryusei Shidou. He's an absolute menace in many aspects. Especially since he just loves to make your working hours even harder than they already are. Either he constantly asks you for help when he doesn't even need it, or he follows you as you complete your task. He's a bit like a little clingy dog. Except for the fact that dogs usually listen when you give them instructions, and Shidou doesn't.

For the past few days, you were busy doing tasks you were assigned to do around the other teams, which meant you got a bit of a break from Shidou. Today you're back to doing work around the PxG team, and of course, the first person who spots you entering the team's area is Shidou. He remembers the time when you usually arrive there, so he probably spent the last few days hopelessly waiting for you. But well, here you are now.

Surprisingly, he doesn't approach you like he usually does. He doesn't even say a stupid pickup line, and neither does he greet you. Instead, he looks at you with a cocky grin as you walk past him. You're genuinely surprised when he doesn't talk to you, but decide to not comment on it. After all, you have work to do and this might start a conversation with Shidou that will end up getting way longer than you'd like to.

Even though Shidou is annoying most of the time, you can't help but admit he's grown onto your heart at least a little bit. He started crushing on you just a few days after meeting you for the first time, but so far you haven't found yourself falling back for him. Shidou doesn't give up, though. He likes to tease you whenever he gets the chance and almost everything he says to you is in a flirty tone. As much as you hate to admit it, he definitely has a certain charm that just catches a part of you. No matter how annoying you think he is, nothing ever makes you feel as if you genuinely want him to shut up. But if he wants you to fall back for him, Shidou certainly has to try harder.

While you're busy with your work, every now and then you can spot Shidou near you or just walking by in the corner of your eye,. But for some reason, he still hasn't approached you. Well, maybe that's because his teammates are around most of the time and while you believe Shidou doesn't feel any shame, that might be a reason why he's currently holding back. Or maybe he's planning something new. Or did he lose his feelings out of nowhere because he didn't get to see you for three days? No no, that can't be the case. He still has this overconfident grin on his lips when he's near you. He's definitely trying to come up with something new.

The PxG players are in the middle of today's practice when Loki asks you to refill their almost empty water bottles. You were just standing there watching the team anyways, so you quickly left to do your given task. But just a few moments after entering the hallway, you can feel someone following you. Without looking back, you immediately know it's Shidou.

He doesn't talk yet, though. But when you're opening the first water bottle to refill it, Shidou quickly stops you by hugging you from the back. He rests his head on your shoulder and you can just sense the smirk on his face, even without seeing it.

"You're doing really good work, assistant-chan." Shidou says while pulling you a little closer to his body.

"Assistant-chan?" You raise an eyebrow. "You know I have a name?"

Shidou lets you go from the hug, but grabs your shoulders and makes you turn around to face him. "Assistant-chan! Because I adore how nicely you do your work. But you know... there's some special work you could do to help me out."

Shidou is about to lean his face a bit closer to yours, but you already took a step back. It's more than obvious that he's not genuinely asking for help, but instead trying to flirt more. He might be interrupting you at your current task, but at least he's amusing.

You let out a short chuckle before continuing to talk. "And what do you happen to need help with? You see... I'm actually busy refilling water for your teammates, who are - other than you - at practice right now."

"Oh come on!" Shidou raises his voice a little, but in a rather teasing than aggressive tone. There is a slight hint of aggressiveness, but it sounds fake. "Do I look like I need to be at practice? Especially when I can be spending my time with a sweet thing like you?"

"You, Shidou-chan," You start in a slightly teasing tone, "Should be at practice because your team needs you. And I, your 'assistant-chan', need to do my job."

Shidou seems to be taken aback by the hint of teasing in your voice. He's flirted with you so often and has always tried to get more of a reaction out of you other than rejection, but now that you're starting to tease him back even just a little bit, he seems to be out of words for a moment. Well, until he gets a new thought and starts speaking once more.

"My assistant-chan? At this point, why don't you become my personal assistant, eh?" The grin on Shidou's face widens. "I certainly know something you could help me with. Hint: it's in my pants."

The immediate response in your brain is 'What the fuck did he just say?' but if you backed out now, Shidou would see that as one step closer to winning your heart - which is something you definitely don't want him to think.

It takes you a moment to find a good response, but you win a bit of time by finally starting to refill one of the bottles. Your back is turned to Shidou now, so he can't see how you're actually struggling to come up with something.

After you finish refilling the first bottle and put it aside, you turn around to face Shidou again. "You're so unholy sometimes, I think you deserve to be crucified." You tease him again.

"Oh, I'd love to!" For a second, you could swear there were little sparkles in Shidou's eyes. He seems to enjoy how you're starting to tease him. "Let me be crucified -" Shidou pulls you closer by your collar and leans his face towards yours, "- on you."

And this is the first time Shidou manages to put a genuine blush on your face. But in no way are you giving in to him like this.

"I'll admit, that was smooth." You carefully remove his hand from your collar before grabbing his instead, pulling him even closer to your face. "You're getting better at this." You pull him just a bit closer, acting as if you're about to kiss him. And as Shidou leans in for that, you push him away with both of your arms on his shoulders.

The startled look in his eyes is absolutely priceless. You've never seen him this caught off guard by anything.

"If you get even better, maybe I'll have to actually crucify you! But I won't let you know if it's gonna be in the way you want it, or the way I want it."

Taglist (sign-up link): @starhrtz @kaineedstherapy12 @zyuuuu @luvcalico @truegoist @vanitasbrainrot @acacIa @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @https-archangel @ririgards @depressed-bitchy-demon

#💟 maochira writes #bllk #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you #ryusei shidou #shidou ryusei #shidou x reader #shidou x you #ryusei shidou x reader #ryusei shidou x you #bllk shidou #blue lock shidou

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pajarinwrites · 8 months ago

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The Perfect Set 02

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.9k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking, cob busts his lip and has to get it stitches, piv sex, cunnilingus (it's all not very elaborately described tho

➳ AN: i initially meant to only continue posting this series once i have all rough drafts finished but then i got too impatient and here we are, also i have been obsessed with jacob again, i'll get back to continuing chapter four now (i'm in a writers block with this story TT)

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Jacob watched you from the audience, the way your eyes were so zeroed in on your opponent, following their words with every ounce of your attention. Jacob knows the other girl slipped up when he sees the minuscule twitch of the corner of your mouth. I’ve got you, now. It seems to say. He’s seen it countless times in your practice debates, and in quite a few of your rows with him, too. Sure enough, your turn for a reply comes around and you take your opponents entire argument apart with a few well placed jabs. She gets increasingly hectic and starts stumbling over her words. Jacob almost feels bad for her. But when the jury leaves to discuss your debate any empathy evaporates. Your face lights up as you turn around to your team mates, who all give you thumbs up. He’s quite sure everyone in the hall can tell that you had the upper hand in that debate.

Once the results are officially announced and you and your team have advanced to the next round, you sprint over to the seats. He catches you in his arms and whirls you around.

“I told you, you could do it!”

“I could have been more concise in my second argument, and I totally forgot to respond to one of the aspects she mentioned, but overall it went quite well.” Your smile is blinding and he’s having a deja vu.

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements.” You stick your tongue out at him but before he can reiterate how proud he is of you, a familiar pair of arms wraps around you from behind.

“You did so great,” Juyeon whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek. You blush furiously and Jacob feels sick.

“You wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference,” you tease him. And momentarily, the weird feeling alleviates. Even if you’ve gone on a few dates with Juyeon, Jacob is the one who always makes time for you, who goes to your debate team meetings, does research with you until late at night. He’s the one that is always there for you, that has always been there for you since you were children. So it’s only natural that your open affection with Juyeon would trigger an adverse reaction. He knew his team mate was a good guy, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough for you. And on top of that, “could you guys not make out right in front of me? I’m gonna have to throw up.” You chuckle, detaching yourself from Juyeon in favour of simply holding his hand.

“It was just a peck, hyung.” Juyeon says, as if the exact manner of physical affection that you display makes any difference to Jacob.

“Either way, it’s weird because we’re like siblings.”

You look at him quizzically before shrugging. “No problem, we’ll just go over to that dark corner over there and continue. See you later!” You wave, pulling Juyeon along with you, while Jacob is left behind with the exceedingly unwelcome picture of you and Juyeon making out in a dark corner seared into his brain.

You seem to generally be busy with his teammate because Jacob sees less and less of you over the next few weeks. Juyeon also shows up increasingly late for training, often sporting suspicious marks on his neck or swollen lips. Upon the snickering glances of the younger teammates, he only grins and pulls his neckline a little lower. As much as Jacob wants you to be happy, Juyeon’s faltering morale starts to affect the whole team soon, dragging everyone’s motivation and teamwork down. After two weeks, Jacob has enough and asks Juyeon to stay behind after practice.

The taller man slinks up to him with all the time in the world and a self-satisfied expression on his face. “What’s up, cap?” He asks.

Jacob decides not to beat around the bush, “I’ve noticed over the past training sessions that you seem kind of distracted and demotivated…” Juyeon shows no reaction, forcing Jacob to continue explaining himself. “I’m definitely not the only one who noticed, and at this point your spotty attendance and lack of commitment are starting to affect the whole team.”

“But, hyung, I’m only ever a few minutes late. How am I at fault if everyone starts slacking off?”

“We’re a team, Juyeon. Everyone is responsible for everyone, to a certain degree. On top of that, you’re one of the older members, so the freshmen look up to you for guidance and motivation. Your attitude is having a negative effect on the whole team, and I need you to start taking this seriously again.”

“Or what?” Juyeon asks, his eyes boring into Jacob’s in a way that makes him squirm. He’s always hated confrontation, the fact that Juyeon is one of his close friends isn’t making this easier in the slightest. “Or nothing. This isn’t a threat, Juyeon.”

“So you’re asking me nicely? As your friend?”

“No, I’m telling you nicely. As your captain.”

“That still sounds kinda threatening, though.”

“I can’t help that. We’ve got a big roster of players and if you’re attitude and behaviour affect our results negatively, you’ll be swapped out. It’s as simply as that. I’m not doing this to antagonise you.”

“‘Course you aren’t.” Juyeon replies, his eyes fiery. He snatches his satchel off the bench and stares down at Jacob, who feels increasingly lost. “So you’re going to put me on the bench just because I’m fooling around with your girl.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, Jacob thinks. It’s also a way that makes it sound way worse than it is.

“She’s not my girl, Juyeon. She is her own person, and this has nothing to do with her. Except that she seems to distract you from what’s really important.”

“No offence, captain. But if you think volleyball is what’s really important, you’ve never gotten your dick properly wet.” Jacob feels like he’s been slapped in the face and he doesn’t know if it’s his hurt pride or the vulgarity of the statement or the fact that he feels like he needs to defend your honour once more. He stares at Juyeon, taking rapid but deep breaths and doing his most to not loose grip of his amicable disposition.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing that that’s all she means to you.”

“What’s it to you? Whatever we do with each other is none of your business. You just said she’s her own person.”

“It is absolutely my business if you’re hurting her.”

“Fuck you! You really think I’d ever do that?”

“Well if you can’t even—“

“Stop!” Juyeon suddenly screams. He’s fuming; Jacob isn’t even sure what he did to incur his friend’s sudden wrath, “don’t pretend like you know what we need from our relationship! If you don’t trust me, ask her whether she’s happy or not.”

Jacob presses his lips together, meeting Juyeon’s burning gaze with the same intensity.

“This isn’t even about her,” he reiterates because it feels like his grip on this conversation is slipping, “this is about volleyball.”

“I have a feeling that this is exactly about her.”

“That’s probably because you need to get your head and your priorities on straight.”

“Oh, sorry, that the relationships with the people I care about are more important to me than some stupid sport. Most importantly herright now.”

“We’ve got different priorities, then.” Jacob says coldly.

“Clearly.” Juyeon replies in a similar tone, “I quit.”

That takes Jacob by surprise, despite everything, and the words only register once Juyeon has crossed the gym and slammed the door shut behind himself.

Jacob stands, staring at the door in disbelief. Inside he’s still fuming, and it’s a feeling he doesn’t truly appreciate. He tried his hardest to keep the conversation civil but he still seems to have triggered Juyeon. Jacob decides to give him space to cool down, knowing that he himself needs it before he can face his friend again. In the face of overflowing emotions, Jacob always takes the same path. So he decides to do what he always does when he is feeling upset. It doesn’t hurt to get some more targeted practice in anyway, he’d been meaning to dedicate more time to his jump serves anyway.

He rolls the ball cage over the end of the court and starts practicing. Some serves, he imagines the ball is Juyeon’s face smirking at him. But most of them he’s looking at himself and feeling increasingly bad. Jacob is so engrossed in his serves that he doesn’t notice the door to the gym open and close again. Neither does he realise that you’ve sat down on the benches next to the court, watching him smash ball after ball precisely into the corners of the opponents half of the field. You watch as your best friend over-exerts himself, well aware that sometimes this is what he needs to turn off the incessant stream of doubt that runs his mind some days.

The first time you found him like this was the first week of your second year of middle school. He had just found out that he wouldn’t make the regular line-up for games this year either. Despite him sacrificing the better part of his free time to volleyball and never missing a practice, no matter how sick he was, his coach chose a different line-up. Of course Jacob didn’t say anything, ever the pacifist. And without his soothing reassurance, you would’ve stormed up to the coach in his stead to demand fairness.

“Nepotism,” you had huffed as you sat on the bench, watching your best friend try jump serve after jump serve. He was breathing heavily, his bangs sticking to his forehead at that point.

“Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested, earning yourself nothing but a burning glare. “My serves still suck. I can’t even land them in the court half the time,” he gritted as if that was enough explanation, and you had learned to keep your mouth shut. Eventually he would tire himself out, so much that he could barely lift his arms. Then he’d start collecting the countless volleyballs he had shot across the gym in hours before. You’d help him, wordlessly. And, finally, he would crash down on the floor in exhaustion, looking up at you with a sheepish grin, as if he should be apologising to you for burning himself out like that.

So today you sit there again, waiting for Jacob to tire himself out, as you’ve done countless times. He’s still going strong after half an hour and you’re starting to worry when he suddenly flops down onto the floor.

“Spent?” You call over. His head lolls back up, staring over at you in surprise. He just looks for a few seconds as if he hasn’t yet decided on an appropriate reaction. Slowly, a smile breaks out on his lips. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, which is the first time for him to ever say this. So it’s little surprising that it takes you aback so.

“Sure, whatever. You’re crazy,” you say, getting up and walking over. You hand Jacob his water bottle and start collecting balls all on your own. He starts helping you after a few minutes and together you clean and lock up. He takes a hurried shower, trying not to let you wait too long. The two of you are halfway to your dorms when you finally dare to breach the subject.

“So… do you wanna talk about what happened with Juyeon?” The frown on Jacob’s face manifests immediately.

“Not… really.”

“Ok, no problem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, so low that you can’t hear him over the sound of distant traffic. Only the campus’ eerie silence allows you to hear him. You haven’t heard him this insecure since the infamous middle school roster disaster. He’s staring at his feet while walking, as if he’s expecting to find a treasure on the floor any moment now.

“I mean, he talked to me about it… But don’t worry, I’m impartial.”

Jacob huffs. “I’ve never known a person to be less impartial than you,” he smiles.

You stew in silence until you make it to your dorm and you can’t quite decide whether or not it’s uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come in for a second? I still have that chai mix you love.” Your best friend lifts his eyes and there’s still a little hope in them.

“Sure,” he says, much to your relief. As he follows you up, you can hear from the heavy fall of his footsteps that the training exhausted him more than he likes to admit. Hence, it’s no surprise that you tell him to get comfy on your bed while you prepare the chai with the electric kettle in your room.

You hand him one mug, the one with the beagle saying ‘good morning’ on it, his favourite. When you sit down next to him, you decide not to prompt Jacob, instead giving him a chance to start talking in his own time. It takes few minutes and some sips from your drink before he takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“What did Juyeon say?”

“The usual.. you’ve got a stick up your ass when it comes to volleyball, you should care more about your friends, etcetera…

“Oh, he also asked me if I was happy. Which was… a little weird, just ‘cuz it was unprompted, you know?” Jacob looks up at you in surprise. “Are you?” He asks, “Happy, I mean.”

“Sure,” you say, unsure of where this is supposed to be heading, “I mean university is stressful especially with the exams coming up in a couple months. But other than that I’m pretty happy… Can’t say the same for you or Juyeon, though.”

Jacob nods sagely. “It’s just been a little rough between us lately and I don’t even fully know why.”

“Maybe it’s just tensions with the quarter finals coming up?”

“That’s probably a contributing factor.”

“All the more reason to make up with him,” you whisper, not sure if you’re breaching the subject too soon. But judging by Jacob’s heavy sigh, this is the pivotal point that his brain had been circling the whole time too.

“I know you’re right but… he said a few things. And I know, from experience, that he needs a little time to calm down.”

“He seemed just as confused as you, to be honest. Maybe give him a few days before talking to him. And maybe get him back on the team? How cool would it be if our university actually won this year’s volleyball championships?” Jacob laughs. Finally, you think, relieved at the way his face finally lights up, even if it’s just for a split second.

“So your motivations are entirely selfless?”

You rest on hand on your heart, “of course! They always are. I am a good samaritan.” Jacob smirks, falling back into silence, except this time you’re sure it’s a comfortable one.

What he doesn’t want to tell you is that he still feels like his argument with Juyeon was only marginally about volleyball. He was worried his friend might have told you that he thinks volleyball is more important to himself than you. (Which isn’t even true, of course. He’s pretty certain you’d know either way that you have always been and will always be his trop priority.) But he is relieved that Juyeon was right, you are happy in whatever situationship you have going on with him. And the mixed feelings he had about that were only due to his momentarily strained relationship with Juyeon. As long as he knows that Juyeon’s treating you right, he has no reason to not be delighted about you being in a loving relationship. He worries. That’s all.

After twenty years of friendship, you can easily spot when Jacob goes into a funk. So when he stares absentmindedly into his empty cup of chai, you know he hasn’t entirely gotten over his dismay about the fight. On top of that, you can see his eyelids dropping in real time. For not entirely unselfish reasons (it’s been ages since the two of you had a sleepover), you offer him to crash at your place tonight. He accepts, with a soft, sleepy smile that warms your heart.

You give him a spare toothbrush and oversized t-shirt so he can comfortably squeeze into your twin-size dorm bed beside you. You wrap one arm around him and he mirrors you while pulling you close. He’s so close you can make out the faint scar on his upper lip. It takes more than a little effort to push the memories of that night out of your head. Especially since it’s the first time he’s sleeping over since that accident.

“Don’t fall out,” you whisper.

“I’ll try my very best.” He whispers back, “good night, sunshine.”

“We have to go!” You squeal, “it’s team-bonding!”

Jacob rolls his eyes at you, “you’re just happy to be invited to a big house party within your first month of uni.”

“So what? Something can be more than one thing at once.”

“Yeah, except this time it’s not.”

You’re sat on the floor in front of Jacob, legs crossed, while he was on your dorm bed. He had come over in order to watch a cute animated movie with you, the way the usually did after he played and won a match with his team. Except this time he barely made it through your door before you started bombarding him with questions about the after-game party that apparently was a tradition for your university’s volleyball team.

Jacob was hard-pressed to tell you ‘no’, especially with your puppy-dog eyes and the way your oversized shirt had ridden up your thighs when you had planted yourself in front of him.

“Why do you never want to go to parties with me?” You whine, pulling on his arm lightly, while pouting. He sighs deeply, already resigning himself to giving into your whim.

“We didn’t even tell them we’d be coming!”

“Oh, please, Jake! As if anyone cares about that. I bet you half a dozen random strangers will show up and no one will care!”

“We’ll be late.”

“No one will be bothered by that except for you.”

He groans, dropping dramatically back onto you bed. You crawl up beside, leaning over him with a smirk. His heart starts racing but he decides to ignore it. “So… is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, fine whatever.” He says, but he knows you can see the smile etching itself onto his face.

“You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a kiss to his cheek that leaves his face burning. Before he can even react you’ve jumped back up, throwing dress after dress on top of him. “Hey,” he tries to protest, sitting up but promptly getting hit in the face again.

“What should I wear?” You ask, already out of your t-shirt. You’re standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and your high school sport shorts. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in less before but with how out of sorts his heart has been acting this night he’s starting to think he’s going to have a problem tonight. “I don’t know, any of them look good.”

Rolling your eyes, your sigh, “You’re not very helpful, you know that?”

You pull on a cute red dress and Jacob is about to compliment you when you frown and pull it back over your head. As you continue to rummage through your closet, he starts looking through the dresses you had haphazardly tossed onto your bed and, by extension, on him. There’s a short black one that sparkles lightly if he holds it up to the light just right. He holds it out for you to see to inquire about your opinion. The way your face lights up let’s him know that he hit the mark.

“It’s perfect!” You exclaim after trying it on and spinning in front of your mirror. He wants to tell you that it’s not perfect after all, that the hem is definitively much too short. But he keeps quiet because he’s not your keeper and he’s never had it in him to deny you something you wanted before. Jacob waits patiently as you put on your makeup and do your hair, and is fascinated again by how much work goes into looking like you put no work into your appearance.

Finally you finish and make it to Sangyeon’s apartment two hours late. A stranger ushers you in. Jacob thinks it’s Sangyeon’s roommate, who he’s only met one singular occasion that left him with antipathy for the man, and the feeling is only exacerbated when said roommate’s inebriated.

“Dude, thought you wouldn’t show, cool you made it!” He greets Jacob, even though his eyes are still on you, blatantly looking you up and down. All that’s missing is him licking his lips, Jacob thinks. To his horror, you seem into it, winking at the player. Jacob's hand wraps around your arm, softly but decisively, and he pulls you into the kitchen to get some drinks. The communal space is full of his team mates. Most don’t pay any attention to your late arrival but a few stare at your ass as the two of you walk by. He’ll definitely need some alcohol to survive the night, he thinks. So that’s exactly what he does, he gets himself and you some alcohol, making sure to make yours mostly juice with only a spritz of vodka. Your reaction isn’t favourable but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. Jacob would like to stick right by your side the entire evening but you’re almost immediately whisked away by no one lesser than his team’s co-captain. Unfortunately for Jacob he’s heard you gush about Sangyeon’s ‘bulging biceps’ on more than one occasion and he hates that the older man seems to have taken a liking to you too.

Jacob tries to distract himself by watching a different group of players have a go at truth and dare in front of the couch but he’s constantly distracted. Even more unfortunately, once he gets up from the game fifteen minutes later, you (and Sangyeon) have disappeared. So, really, he thinks it’s understandable that he drinks a little more than he initially planned.

After a few too many cups Jaehyun finds him in the kitchen only to announce that they’ve set up a keg in the courtyard downstairs. In his woozy state, Jacob thinks that sounds like a grand idea. Also, if there’s partying happening outside, you might’ve simply gone there and that was why he didn’t find you earlier. Jaehyun is elated at the fact that his party-averse junior is following him easily and the both of them are greeted with cheers when they emerge from the apartment building. Jacob spots neither you nor Sangyeon but he’s so busy scanning the area that he doesn’t even fully realise when Sangyeon’s infamous roommate sidles up to him, “Dude,” he whispers, “it’d be so rad if you did a keg-stand right now.”

“Uh uh,” Jacob replies and he’s been led all the way to the keg and is already halfway into a handstand before he fully realises what he just agreed to. Whatever, he thinks, might as well. So he let’s Jaehyun and the roommate hold him up while the tries to chuck as much beer as possible. The only problem was that Sangyeon and you decided to arrive outside at that exact moment. Jaehyun spots you and immediately screams your and Sangyeon’s name.

“Weren’t you two gone for a while? How’s the dick?”

Sangyeon and you throw up a simultaneous middle finger in response but Jacob can’t see that. He only hears Jaehyun’s comment and is momentarily so distracted that his hand slips.

There’s a few ways that this evening could have gone differently. For one, Jacob could have chosen to have a normal reaction to the person that is nothing but his best friend going off to fool around with his teammate. He could have drunken a normal amount of alcohol. He could have refused to go outside or he could have refused to do a keg-stand while being half a beer away from shit-faced. But he didn’t do any of those things. So when his hand slips it isn’t really surprising to anyone that he doesn’t manage to catch himself and instead slams face first into the keg.

It takes several stitches to sew up his lip. The same can’t be said for his chipped tooth. But the doctor’s verdict is generally favourable. “It could’ve gone much worse, young man.” He says at he shows Jacob out of the emergency room. Sangyeon, who had been sober, as it turns out, is waiting for him. He doesn’t have a comment as he leads Jacob to his car and drives him back to his apartment. He pulls up to the curb and Jacob is about get out when Sangyeon rests a hand on his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaving Jacob confused, especially because he still feels a considerable degree of tipsy, despite everything that had transpired over the last half hour. “For what?” He asks.

Sangyeon lets out a deep sigh,”I should’ve been there. It was my place, my invitation. I should’ve been responsible. And I wasn’t there.” For the first time Jacob sees his co-captain, usually a steady presence in the team, defeated. His shoulders are hunched over and Jacob realises the pressure that must rest on Sangyeon’s shoulders. He cares a lot, he’s a great co-captain, more responsible than their actual captain, to be honest.

“It’s not like you can be everywhere at once,” Jacob says, even though his insides feel like they're on flames when he thinks about where Sangyeon had disappeared to and with whom. Still, he’s great when he can tease a small smile from the older man’s lips.

“Thank you, Jacob. You’d make a great captain someday.” The man in question is more than a little taken aback.

“Because I showed such a great tendency for responsibility tonight?”

Sangyeon laughs, “No. Because you care, and you can read people very well. You’ll grow into it, don’t worry.” He smiles as if he has insight into the future in a way that Jacob doesn’t. “I’ll take better care of you from now on. But right now…” He looks out the passenger side window, past Jacob. “I think someone’s waiting for you.”

Jacob turns around, seeing you cowered on the steps to his dorm, your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

Jacob waves Sangyeon off as his car drives off. He sits down next to you, bathing in the silence until the car lights have long faded away. When you still remain motionless next to him, he takes your hand in his softly and tugs you up the stairs to his dorm. He’s never been so happy that he has a solo dorm as when you wrap your arms around him fiercely the second his room door slams shut. He huffs as you press all the air out of his lungs.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into the side of his neck and he nods. You look up, your eyes big and shiny from tears that you must’ve cried before he arrived. He cradles your cheek to wipe the lingering traces of them away, but before he has the chance you close the distance between the two of you.

The press of your lips is light as a feather, unsure whether or not you’ve made the right decision. Jacob blames it on the alcohol, in hindsight. Otherwise there is no way he would’ve been ready to throw twenty years of friendship out the window. He moves his lips against yours, hungrily, because he’s afraid you might change your mind. But instead you wrap your arms around him more closely, trailing them up his back and his whole skin brakes out in goosebumps. One of your hands tangles in his hair, much more forceful now he’s given you permission. His hands wander as much as yours, he’s trying to commit every curve, every expanse of your skin to his drunken memory in the worry that this is some near-death-experience-induced hallucination.

But it’s still real when his hands sneak under your shirt, it’s still real when you take of his and start kissing across his chest. It’s still real when he strips you of your clothes and puts his mouth to your soaked core, it’s still real when you beg for more, your whimpers burned into his brain forever. It’s so so real when he enters you and when he feels you constrict around him until he’s releasing into the condom. You’re still real when you’re lying next to him in his tiny, messy dorm room, falling asleep curled into his side.

Unfortunately, it’s still real when he wakes up in the morning to your horrified expression. It’s real when both of you scramble out of bed, putting your clothes on backwards in the hurry and mumbling embarrassed ‘I’m sorry’s to each other. And it is all too real when you basically sprint out of his room only to send him a single text later that day, saying that, for the sake of your friendship, you’d be more than ready to just forget this ever happened.

#the boyz #jacob bae #jacob x reader #jacob bae x reader #the boyz jacob #the boyz jacob x reader #tb jacob x reader

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snootlestheangel · 1 year ago

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Cheers to the Unknown Pt.2

Monster/cryptid au ft. Just A Dude!Ghost; canon-divergent, alternate universe. More details here (parts are not a coherent story necessarily just scenarios as they come to me !subject to change!;all tagged under "cheers to the unknown") TW: some body horror, language

Meeting The Team

John Price being an inhuman probably would have upset Ghost more had he not been so numb to the world. Ghost had been officially born; Simon Riley was dead, along with his family. Crude, ugly scars twisted his face into a mock grin, something he learned is called a Glasgow smile. If Ghost himself could not bear to see them in the mirror, why would anyone else? How could anyone else? So he took to covering his face. Thus Ghost was born.

Now, Simon Riley had worked with John Price before his supposed death, but it wasn't for long and he still didn't really know the man. He knew Price to be a good man, however, and was rather pleased to hear he'd be working under the captain.

The mission itself was a simple infiltrate and extract operation, one that Ghost could probably do perfectly well on his own. But alas, given the novelty of his new identity, many higher ranking personnel refused to allow him solo for the time being. At least Ghost was stuck with someone relatively decent from his limited experience, and a fellow human.

Or at least Ghost thought he was with another human. He was due for a very nasty reality check when he happened to glance over at the Captain while tightening his tac vest. Ghost stopped all motion as he watched with sickening horror as Price's appearance contorted into a lowly guard for the site they were infiltrating. Price groaned a bit as he popped a few joints in adjustment to his different body.

"You alright?" Price asked in a noticeably different voice as he noticed the wide eyes of the lieutenant.

"Fine, sir." He snapped out, perhaps a bit too quickly. He wasn't all that shocked to be honest, a man of Price's reputation can't possibly be human, and it validated Ghost's feelings of uncanny valley when interacting with Price. It had seemed his intuition that something was different proved right. He wasn't shocked, no, more angry that no one bothered to tell him.

"I thought you knew." Price spoke quietly, almost sheepishly, at Ghost's sharp response.

"Quite frankly, sir, I don't give a shit. We've got a job to do, and I take it you've got a plan." Ghost meets Price's eyes, his expression earnest despite being blank. Price smirked back, slowly nodding.

"That I do."

~~~~~~

Ghost never enjoyed being assigned to various teams of rather inexperienced soldiers, especially ones run by cocky, know-it-all sergeants. He had arrived after the team to assist them with the stealth aspect of their assignment, since their last one had apparently gone haywire. Granted, it wasn't a real assignment, but rather a simulation and Ghost was there to teach them where they went wrong last time. Ghost scanned the clearing where the men were gathered, the cold spray from the sea chilling him even through all his layers.

"Glad you could make it, Lieutenant!" The sergeants, Ghost couldn't be bothered to remember his name, waved in greeting. Ghost resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead remained quiet as he took his place.

"Do you have a plan for getting inside the walls?" Ghost asked, and the sergeant nodded, briefly patting the air tank in front of him.

"There's a locking system under the water against this side gate. I can easily be in and out. The gate will open and I'll meet the men on the inside." Sergeant Daniels, as Ghost suddenly remembered, said rather matter-of-factly. Ghost frowned at him. The plan didn't make sense, but he didn't want to say anything until after the fact, so as to avoid getting into an argument before anything has a chance to go wrong. Sergeants like this one loved to argue. Ghost didn't.

"Have you checked the tank?" Ghost asked, and the sergeant's eyes widened a bit before he bent over to check. Ghost did roll his eyes this time, and instead let his gaze wander to the small team. Most of them looked as green as they probably were, but one didn't. Instead of looking apprehensive like his counterparts, he seemed at peace, his stance relaxed and a small, almost knowing smirk on his lips. He met Ghost's eye and vaguely nodded his head towards Daniels, only to match Ghost's eye roll.

He hated to admit it, but Ghost already liked this kid. He was a corporal, given the markings on his uniform, but he still seemed to know more than the Sergeant.

"Um, there's a problem with the air tank. I'll lose more air than I get to breathe if I take this down." Daniels's nervous voice drew back Ghost's attention, but before he practically snapped his neck to look, he noticed the subtle face palm from the corporal.

"Got a spare?" Ghost snapped, and Daniels shook his head.

"That's mistake number one. Never under prepare. Better safe than a dead man." Ghost barked out, barely containing his anger. He really didn't want to be spending his weekend like this.

"I can breathe underwater." A different voice spoke up, and Ghost felt a bit of relief seeing it came from the corporal.

"How well can you see under there?" Ghost asked and the kid fought back a grin, settling for a small smile.

"Pretty damn well, I'd say." He responds, and Ghost nods. He turns back to glare at Daniels.

"You'd better be fucking grateful he volunteered. You won't be so lucky next time." He said, as dark and threatening as he could be without scarring the idiot for life. Daniels nodded strongly before taking a step back to allow Ghost full authority.

"Got a name, Corporal?" Ghost asked, and the man opened his mouth and closed it again before he gave a formal response.

"Kyle Garrick, sir." Ghost quirked a brow in question.

"Did you have something else to say?"

"I was only going to be smart-ass with your question, sir." Garrick responded, standing a bit straighter as if expecting the already agitated lieutenant to snap.

"Well then let's hear it." Ghost replied, surprising even himself.

"Was only going to say, no, I actually don't have a name." Garrick quipped back, and Ghost nodded, almost solemnly.

"A fellow unloved child, I see. Good to know." Ghost said, and Garrick let out a small laugh in shock.

"Permission to dive, sir?" He asked and Ghost scanned him briefly. The corporal really wasn't dressed for the weather, but given the fact he can apparently breathe underwater, Ghost supposed it didn't really matter.

"Can you disable the lock and alarm system?" He asked, and Garrick confidently nodded.

"Go for it." And with the lieutenant's permission, Garrick gracefully slipped into the water with barely a sound. Ghost shook his head after briefly glancing at Daniels, deciding not to push anything for his own sanity.

It wasn't long at all, rather only a minute or two, before the corporal resurfaced, giving them the go ahead. The rest of the simulation was a disaster on all fronts that didn't include Corporal Garrick. Ghost had yelled himself raw afterwards, and he even allowed Garrick to slip away before the berating began. Afterwards, as Ghost headed to his temporary quarters for the night, he passed the corporal.

"You did good out there, Garrick." Ghost said, half expecting the corporal to not have heard him approach. Instead, he gave Ghost a smile and a nod, seemingly already aware of his presence. It was times like this Ghost was jealous of his inhuman counterparts for their uncanny abilities to detect subtle changes around them.

"Thank you, sir. And, most people call me Gaz." He responded, his smile brightening. Ghost frowned at him, uncertain as to why he felt so drawn by him. He must've stared too long, as Gaz's face suddenly twisted into embarrassment. Iridescent scales slowly faded into view along his cheek bones and along the crest of his nose.

"Sorry, I keep forgetting some species are more... susceptible." Gaz muttered, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. Ghost didn't understand why Gaz had said species instead of humans specifically, as that was more likely to be the case, but he didn't question it. He also didn't question what he meant by susceptible, but he refused to ask for his own peace.

"Well, good night, then. Hope to work with you again, Gaz." Ghost mumbled, and Gaz smiled once again.

"Thank you, sir. I hope to work with you, as well."

~~~~~~

Meeting Sergeant MacTavish was an... interesting experience for him, to say the least. Ghost had heard stories of the sergeant with the ability to produce lightning from his fingertips and a knack for blowing shit up. Yeah, because that's the perfect man for a stealth op.

Perhaps it was because Ghost had underestimated him, or perhaps it was the typical pre-mission jitters he still hasn't gotten used to, but something put him on edge when he saw the sergeant. Every hair on his body stood on end as the man approached him, a confident, if not cocky, grin stuck on his face. Thunder rolled in the distance, and something quite literally flashed in the Scotsman's eyes.

"Let's make this one a win, yeah Lt? Save you a seat, sir." Soap said, punctuating his sentence with a light punch to Ghost's shoulder that sent a harmless, yet startlingly shock through his body. Ghost watched him saunter away and onto the carrier as his heart beats loudly in his chest.

He'll never catch a break, will he?

Taglist: want added? Say so in the replies ;) @tacticaltaxonomist @cthulhusstepmom @cathnoneofyourbusiness @thorougly-melted-brains

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sun-stone-r-ain · 9 months ago

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Platonic Love is not 2nd Place

I just read this fic that I really liked and I want MORE. I'm not sure what aspect of the fic was my favorite, but one prominent feature was non-sexual intimacy. The Temeraire fic is the one driving me crazy with longing for more. The others also focus on non-sexual realtionships (aka Friendship).

Title: Understanding

Author: WerewolvesAreReal

Fandoms: Temeraire - Naomi Novik

Author Summery: Laurence knows as soon as he meets the Admiral's eyes.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49140079

My Notes: "Laurence presented nearly fifteen years ago. How can he still be learning about what he is?" Maybe this line is the one. This is like. Laurence has been alone and afraid for so long. And now he finally has someone to learn from. Jesus. And Lenton is so supportive. I want Laurence to vocalize their relationship, his questions. I want him to be openly affectionate. God. I need more of this.

***

Title: None So Blind

Author: prettybirdy979

Fandoms: Daredevil (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Author Summery:

They say when you assume you make an ass of you and me.

Matt wishes that the Avenger's assumptions about his seeming inability to read the written word did something as benign as making an ass of him and them. Being called illiterate shouldn't hurt, not when he knows he's not, and it's not like he can tell them the truth.

Not that the truth would make much difference. He's just going to have to grin and bear it.

If he can.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6256720/chapters/14336380

My Notes: I suppose this is more about ableism than the power of friendship. For more impact, first watch Zoe Bee's youtube video "The Adults Who Can't Read" https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xxMsgVgeu_M&ab_channel=ZoeBee

***

Title: Tony Stark: Appliance Whisperer

Author: Alex51324

Fandoms: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Author Summery: After Tony over-reacts to some SHIELD agents breaking a microwave oven, Steve begins to wonder if there's something the team should know.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167543

My Notes: Tony has a secret, and his friend figures it out. I think the tag WAFF for Warm and Fluffy Feelings would be suitable here.

***

Title: Gravity of Empire

Author: NonBindaryStars

Fandoms: Temeraire - Naomi Novik

Relationship: Tenzing/Laurence

Author Summery:

“The captain was clearly one of those Englishmen who, having acquired a taste for the exotic during his travels and being a gentleman of means, wielded his power over the natives to affect the trappings of a status he had not earned...

...For his own part, Tharkay had long since ceased to draw from the poisoned well the British called love.”

Tharkay and Laurence’s story from Tharkay’s perspective, from Black Powder War through Tongue of Serpents.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25099333?view_full_work=true

My Notes: This fic is about racism. And colonialism. Read the authors notes in this fic. Here's a quote:

"Tharkay understands what the real outcome of that equation is because he LIVED IT - his ENTIRE family and community cast him out rather than openly claim him when it became inconvenient, remember???...And these were people who LOVED HIM. That’s the fucked up part - they REALLY, REALLY DID LOVE HIM - but their love is a POISONED. WELL. because of the unacknowledged gaps in their thinking. It’s so fucking insidious that nobody will admit it when it’s pointed out - it scatters like cockroaches when you shine a light on it. Please, please, please believe me: when it comes to BIPOC people with white friends, trusted colleagues, family members -- the love is REAL, and that’s what hurts. Not even LOVE is enough to make most people do the hard and uncomfortable work to think about their own biases, to empathize with your experience."

***

Title: Ásgarðrian Galdr

Author: Valerie_Vancollie

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Norse Religion and Lore, Marvel

Author Summary:

What if Loki was able to warn his past self, so he did not lose control during his regency and was able to act as he normally would? What if he had been able to remain calm and in control of himself, and the situation?

"How?" Loki demanded.

"Betrayal," his future self stated simply, rage clear in every syllable. "But you must control your reaction and come to see me, or you will repeat my mistakes and we will miss an opportunity to take control and alter things in our favor."

It would have changed everything.

My Notes: This is my new head-cannon for how Loki gets his happily ever after. Odin and Frigga are imperfect, not malicious. Thor is also imperfect. Different characters have different beliefs about what other characters believe, leading to misunderstandings. There is non-sexual intimacy. Loki is a regent King who Gets the Job Done.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072913/chapters/71363868

#fanfiction recs #fanfic rec list #temeraire series #temeraire #tenzing tharkay #william laurence #daredevil #loki

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cloudlessly-light · 2 years ago

Note

Hi😊 How have you been?

Its not a specific request just a thought I’ve had past few days…

In my imagination Emily is bisexual and been always a Dom. But as she started sleeping with hotch she learned the joy of being dominated. He taught it and he is the only person Emily submits to in bed.

Can you please write something like this?

if it doesn’t intrigue you please ignore.

Love your latest multi fic btw💓💓💓🍬

A/N: This is pure filth, might be the filthiest thing I’ve ever written and I really hope you like it my friend! Please read the tags, because filthy filth is under the cut!

Title: Masked eyes as you pick me apart Summary: Control wasn’t something Emily easily gave up; it was something she craved. But then she falls in love with Aaron, and her whole world is flipped upside down. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: Smut, BDSM themes, Dom Hotch, Brat Emily, switch Emily, bisexual Emily, oral, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, verbal humiliation/degradation, choking, restraints, sex toys, spanking

Emily had always enjoyed control, in all aspects of her life. It was something she had lacked as a child and as she grew up it was something she cherished, something she craved. It was something that came easy in her personal life, something that was sometimes harder professionally. On those days she often found herself looking for a man or woman to spend the night with, to take her control back.

“What do you need?” She grinned against the other woman’s neck, the redhead whimpering as she tried to get Emily closer, her nails digging into her skin.

“Please.” Came a breathless reply and Emily hummed as she let her fingers rub too softly against a sensitive clit. “Please, touch me I need you.” She tried to catch Emily’s lips in a kiss but she was quick to back away.

“Ah ah ah,” Her lips ghosted over pale skin, her tongue licking the taste of salt of her skin. “you’re going to have to beg better than that.”

Emily loved it, the power of it. She never thought that would change.

But then she meets Aaron Hotchner, stoic and proper and if it weren’t for the gold glimmering on his finger she would have loved to take him apart and put him back together again just like she wanted him. She fantasized about it, imagined how he would tremble and beg and how his eyes would darken as she rode him to orgasm after orgasm.

Then he’s divorced and she has gotten to know him as more than a boss, but the urge doesn’t go away. She’s pretty sure that the feeling is mutual, his eyes lingering on her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, his body usually turned to her even when they were surrounded by people.

And then the inevitable happens and she kisses him behind closed doors in Dave’s home after another team dinner. He surprises her though and presses her against the door, his large hands spread wide over her ribs as he traps her between the hard wood and his warm body. She lets him, for now because his lips against hers feels good, the taste of him and scotch on his tongue makes her moan as they give in to years of want.

“What does this mean?” He asks when they break apart and she almost wants to roll her eyes because of course he has to define it immediately.

“It means that you’re coming back to my place tonight, and we’ll go from there.” She smirks and hears him chuckle before his lips are on hers again.

They end up having sex before even making it to the living room, Aaron quick to pick her up and fuck her right up against a wall in the hallway. She doesn’t fight him, lets him bring them both pleasure as her body is slammed repeatedly against the wall, hard enough for the painting next to them to fall to the floor. He doesn’t stop though and she’s coming and it’s too good to care about anything but them.

Emily had always loved control, but then she starts sleeping and then falls in love with Aaron and she realizes that he loves control even more, and giving in to him is an even bigger rush.

It’s a surprise when it really shouldn’t have been, that Aaron craved control in every aspect of his life as well. That realization comes crashing over her that first night when he finally gets them both into her bed and he’s quick to hover over her. She tries to turn them but he’s stronger bigger and he laughs at her.

“You really didn’t think it would be that easy?” He’s taunting and she doesn’t know why her body flushes. “I’ve thought about this a lot.” He continues while tracing lazy kisses along her neck.

“And what did you think about?” She grinds up against his hard shaft the best she can, is embarrassingly wet as he continues to tease her. She’s not used to it; she’s used to taking but her body reacts to him in ways it never had before.

“How you sound when you come.” He bites over her pulse and then sooths it with his tongue. “And now I’ve heard you, it was even better than I imagined.” Aaron lets go of her wrists and kneels between her legs, his eyes darker than she’s ever seen them as he watches her and she squirms under the intensity of it. “I know you think you’re in charge here, but you should know that you’re not.”

One of her eyebrow arches as she scoffs at his words. Again, she shouldn’t be surprised that he already knew that, he was the best profiler she knew and he was using it against her.

“I’m going to make you beg for it.” She challenges and it’s his turn to scoff. Then he’s inside of her again, deep and hard as he leans over her again.

“Not a chance sweetheart.”

She never thought she’d give up the control she had always craved so easily, but then came Aaron Hotchner and flipped the switch on her. In the back of her mind she realizes that she only lets go of her control because it’s him, because she trusts him enough to do so. She should have known, but that doesn’t mean that she can’t try and fight him at times. That she can’t make him work for it.

“Hi honey.” She walks into his office with her coat hanging over her arm. “I’m done for the day, do you have a lot to do still?”

Aaron smiles at her the moment his eyes land on her, the smile only reserved for her and she feels her own lips tug upward.

“Maybe another hour.” He stands up and his eyes flicker to the mostly empty bullpen. No one was paying them any attention. He pulls her against him and her breathing hitches as he smirks. It had been a long week, a stressful week and they both know that they needed to release some tension. “Have you been good today?” He nips at her bottom lip, pulls it between his teeth until she gasps.

“Depends on your definition of good.” She sees his eyes darken as realization hits him.

“Emily.” He warns as his hands tighten on her hips. “What did you do?”

“I guess that’s for me to know and for you to figure out.” She twists out of his hold with a grin on her face. He won’t follow her, not when he still had work to do and she knew it. “But I have to say that new pocket-sized vibration really is as powerful as the clerk said.”

He sees her wink and then she’s gone, and his hands clench into fists. It was a rule, she knew it and he knew it and if she had not only brought the toy to work without his knowledge, but also used it to orgasm, she was in trouble.

“Brat.” He sighs as he sits back at his desk, already planning how the rest of their night would go.

Emily still didn’t give in to him immediately, always had fun fighting against him until fully submitting to him. She waits for him in his apartment, adrenaline rushing through her as her mind races with what he will do when he gets home. She’s in the kitchen when she hears the lock turning and she sees him entering.

His eyes find hers and she gulps as he calmly hangs his jacket on the hook and then places his briefcase on the side table together with his phone and keys. He’s too collected and it makes a tingle run down her spine. Her eyes doesn’t leave him as he removes his suit jacket and sets it over the armrest of the couch, then moves to the cufflinks of his shirt as he makes his way towards her. By the time he’s standing in front of her his shirt is off and her breathing is labored from excitement.

“Enjoying yourself, are you?” He asks as he closes in on her, stands close enough to trap her against the counter as she back up. His eyes doesn’t leave hers as he gets his belt undone, the sound of the buckle loud as it falls to the floor.

“Baby…”

“Shh.” His finger slips against her lips as he hushes her. “You’re going to listen to me.” He grabs her chin and moves her head, making her nod and Emily feels the ache between her legs pulse hard enough for her to clench her legs together. “You will speak when spoken to, other than that the only words allowed from you are, yes, please, my name or your safe word, do you understand?”

She’s nodding without his help now and he smiles, pleased with her obedience but knows that it won’t last. He presses her harder against the counter, his thigh moving to press between her legs.

“Tell me, did you take that toy with you to work without telling me?”

“Y-yes.” She stutters as she grinds against his thigh, the pressure not enough. She gasps as the edge of the counter digs into the small of her back uncomfortably, but she doesn’t care because his lips are hovering against hers.

“Did you come at work?” He’s already painfully hard in his pants, her proximity and the wild look in her eyes more than enough for him. “Are you really that desperate?” He snickers, the sound condescending and low.

“Aaron...” Her eyes close as her cheeks burn with arousal and humiliation. Then he’s moving so fast that she almost stumbles, the warmth of his body gone in a moment. She tries reaching for him, needs to feel him but he’s faster than her and his hand finds its way into her hair, his hold firm and she sucks in a breath.

“You know better than that, slut.” He whispers against her face as he keeps her in place. “You will be begging for me Emily.” His other hand moves to unzip his pants. “You will beg and plead and if you want any chance of coming at all tonight, you better fucking behave.”

Emily tries nodding but his hold on her hair is too tight and instead she breathes a sound resembling yes as he pulls her down on her knees. The floor is unforgiving on her knees but she stays put as his pants and boxers falls around his ancles, her eyes zeroing in on his hard cock almost slapping her in the face.

Aaron keeps his grip on her hair as he slowly feeds her his cock, her mouth already open wide for him. His eyes stay on her face as she takes more and more of him, her lips split around his shaft. She gags and the feeling makes him shudder as he pulls back slightly, only to thrust against her face again. His hold loosens on her hair and with a dark grin he watches as she starts bobbing her head, her tongue pressed against his heated skin as she swallows as much as she can.

Emily revels in the little bit of freedom he allows her and her hands fall to his strong thighs. She feels the muscles tense under her touch as she chokes willingly on him. She looks up at him, wide-eyed as tears run down her cheeks.

“You’re so pretty like this.” His voice is thick with want as he gently brushes a tear away, smearing her mascara even more. He pushes his hips against her face, doesn’t want her to think that he’s letting go so easily.

Emily braces herself as his hips move faster, fucking her face until she’s gasping for air and pulling back on instinct. He follows as her back bends and she realizes she’s trapped when the back of her head hits the cabinet behind her. She sees the smug look on his face and she knows that he planned for this all along.

“Unbutton your shirt, wouldn’t want you to ruin it considering how much of a mess you’re making. Poor thing.” He tells her and if it wasn’t for the roughness of his voice, he almost sounded bored.

She struggles with the buttons as he continues to shallowly thrust against her face, her body feeling like it was on fire from how badly she needed to feel him, for something to take the edge off. By the time she shrugs the shirt off, he’s groaning above her, his eyes hooded as he watches the way she sucks on the head of his cock.

“Bra too.” He grunts out and pulls completely out of her mouth for a moment. He gently brushes her hair out of her face as she gasps for air and unhooks her bra. She’s still trapped as he stands over her legs, and when she willingly surges up to get him back in her mouth he groans. “Good girl.”

Emily knows she’s a mess of tears and drool as it drips down her chin. It only encourages him and he thrusts faster against her face, making sure to pull back for her to breathe but then goes right back to making her take all of him down her throat. Her nails scratch over his thighs, small red lines appearing on his skin that makes something resembling a growl leave him.

“You better swallow all of it.” He warns and she nods the best she can as her tongue swipes against the underside of his cock. Aaron groans as he gives in to the pleasure, his hand finds its way back into her hair to hold her still as he ruts against her face. Through the fog of his release he hears her moan at the first spurt of him on her tongue, and he looks down just in time to see her struggle to keep his cum in her mouth. But she does, stays still and looks up at him until he nods and she swallows it down.

“Thank you.” She says and even if it wasn’t on the approved list of words he chooses to let it go.

Aaron pulls her up to stand and kisses her roughly. He groans at the taste of him still on her tongue as his fingers find the button on her pants and quickly undoes it.

“Bedroom.” He tells her and he sees her eyes light up. “Hands and knees, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Emily almost runs towards the bedroom, her body buzzing and mind hazy with arousal. She gets on the bed like he had told her and waits. She doesn’t have to wait long until he walks in holding a bottle of water. Wordlessly he holds it to her lips and she drinks dutifully and then watches as he sets the bottle down on the nightstand.

“How many times did you come?” He asks as he pulls black cuffs from their drawer and throws it on the bed in front of her. When he comes back he slowly runs a calloused finger down her spine.

“Only once.” She arches into his warm touch, her body reacting to him immediately. When he slaps her ass cheek it comes as a surprise and she whimpers at the sting.

“Only once, huh?” Aaron slaps her again and watches the red handprint flush on her skin. “One time too many though.”

“Aaron I-I…” She starts but a third slap, harder than the previous ones makes her stop talking. Then she feels two of his thick fingers press inside of her and she moans in surprised pleasure.

“You’re dripping,” The word rolls of his tongue like he’s tasted something horrible, the tone patronizing and cruel. “Did sucking my cock get you this wet, slut?” He curls his fingers and her body jerks in response.

“Fuck… Aaron!” She feels him slap her again as his thumb move to circle her clit and the sound leaving her is a mix of a moan and a sob.

“Did it?” He gets on the bed beside her but keeps his hand against her, his fingers moving harder inside of her.

“Yes, yes it did.” She concedes and turns to look at him. She flushes harder at the look on his face, satisfaction clear as he snickers at her.

“Pathetic.” He spits the word at her and she whimpers. “Nothing but a cock-drunk little slut aren’t you.”

Emily nods desperately as her body starts to tremble from the way his fingers press against her spot and thumb rubs over her clit.

“And who’s slut are you?” He breathes in her ear as he watches the way her body reacts to him.

“Yours. Fuck I’m yours.” She says through clenched teeth and then he moves away from her and his fingers slip out of her. She slumps in disappointment but he’s quick to pull her up, his hands firm on her hips.

“So why did you think bringing a toy and using it at work was acceptable?” He flips her onto her back and has to hold back a groan as he looks at her face, needy and desperate already but the small smirk on her lips lets him know that she hasn’t given in yet.

“It was fun, maybe you’ve heard of it?” She catches him off guard and manages to flip them over. She grins as her center grinds against his shaft, already half-hard again. She presses her knees onto his hands as she puts as much of her weight on him as possible. “Or maybe I did it, just because I wanted to?” She speaks against his lips and Aaron tries to free his hands but she only presses her knees harder into the bed. “You’re so cute, squirming for me.”

It's too much and she knows it. If she hadn’t expected it she would have fallen off the bed from the force he used to flip them around. His grip is bruising on her wrists as he pins them above her head and gets them into the cuffs, even as she struggles.

“Fucking brat.” He growls and she bites her lip to keep from smirking, knowing that she was on the verge of him leaving her there alone, something he had done before. “You can’t help yourself can you?” Aaron wraps his hand around her slim throat and squeezes. “You were being so good for me.” The disappointment in his voice is clear.

Emily feels her eyesight go fuzzy as he cuts off the blood flow, his hand tight around her throat. When he lets go she’s dizzy and panting and then he does it again as his other hand move to tug on her nipples.

“Give me one reason why I should let you come.” Aaron watches her face as his hand move from her chest and down between her legs. Her thighs are sticky, folds soaked and he bites back a groan at her always being so receptive to him.

“Because you want me to come.” She replies as his fingers press inside of her again, his palm tight against her clit. “You love when I come for you.”

It was true, watching Emily as she gave in to the pleasure he was the cause of, was one of his favorite things in the world and they both knew it. His fingers curled hard inside of her and her thighs tensed.

“I do that’s true.” He said almost conversationally as he continued to thrust his fingers inside of her and the cuffs rattled as Emily pulled on them as he built up her pleasure again.

“Aaron.” She whimpered when he let go of her throat completely and instead moved down her body to suck on her nipple. He was everywhere and she felt delirious as the tension build in the pit of her stomach.

“Don’t do it.” He told her as he moved from one breast to the other. “Hold it.”

Emily whined in response, her muscles tensing by each push of his fingers. She felt his teeth tug on her nipple and the pain shot straight to her center. She jerked against the cuffs, her thighs trembling as her body tensed. And then he moved away from her again, making her groan in frustration.

“Greedy little thing.” It’s almost gentle, the way he pushes his soaked fingers against her lips and she sucks them without a second thought. He feels her tongue against his digits as she cleans herself of him and his cock twitches as it stands proudly between his legs.

“Please, I need you, please fuck me.” She mumbles around his finger and he smiles at her. She was already begging and she wasn’t even aware of it.

“You want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” He pulls his fingers out of her mouth and settles between her spread legs. His cock lands on her pelvis and her eyes fasten on it. He keeps his eyes on her as he slides his shaft over her clit, a smirk on his lips when she whimpers but stays still. “Emily.” He says her name and her eyes snap to his instantly.

“Please…” She whispers, her eyes pleading and he shifts between her legs. Her eyes flutter close as he pushes inside of her, but they open when she only feels him push the tip of him inside of her. “What…?”

“Stay still or I swear I will walk out of here.” He warns as he keeps the head of his cock inside of her and then moves to rub her clit but doesn’t move.

She cries out at the pressure on her clit, his thumb circling it with sure movements. She clenches around his cockhead and she hears him groan and she knows that this is all she’ll get unless she doesn’t behave. So she forces herself to still as he slowly builds up her orgasm for a third time.

Aaron watches with dark eyes as she throws her head back, soft moans and gasps leaves her lips as she clenches harder around him. He looks down and groans at the sight of his thick shaft disappearing into flushed folds, almost looking too big to fit inside of her. He knows that he could come like this, leave her aching and desperate as her center massages his sensitive cockhead, but she had been right before. He loved when she came and tonight he wanted her too, even if she had misbehaved.

Emily’s body tensed as his thumb moved harder against her clit, her vision blurring as she tried to keep herself from falling of the edge. Her hands clenched into fists, her muscles trembling and she looked up at him.

“Please.” She begged again and somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered a time when begging seemed like an impossibility.

“You want to come pretty girl?” He snickered at the way she nodded frantically. “Beg, properly.”

“Please, please let me come. Aaron I’ll be good, I promise just please let me come.” She rambled and his thumb moved faster in response.

“Do it.” He ordered and then pushed forward, filling her completely and she was coming with a loud whine as he stretched her.

Her back arched high as he started to fuck her while keeping his thumb on her clit, drawing out her pleasure until she was slumping on the bed, chest heaving. But he didn’t stop, he kept the same pressure on her clit as he fucked her with long, hard strokes.

“Wait…” She tried but Aaron cut her off.

“Again.” He groaned as she clenched in response, her body reacting to him easily. He changed the angle of his thrusts, pressed her thighs wide apart as she whimpered helplessly below him.

It didn’t take more than a couple of minutes until she was trembling through another orgasm, the pleasure of it making her body buckle against his. She was barely down from her high when she suddenly felt the bed dip and Aaron disappeared into the hallway.

When he came back only a few seconds later he held up the bullet vibrator that she had taken to work and she sucked in a breath. He got back between her legs and pushed inside of her like he hadn’t stopped in the first place, a grin on his face as he turned the vibrator on.

“I can’t…” She felt her whole body tense as the first feeling of the powerful vibrations her swollen clit.

“Yes you can.” He told her as he leaned over her, still holding the toy against her. He kissed her, pushed his tongue against hers and swallowed down her moan as he felt her once again start to clench around him. “There you go.” He encouraged her, his own pleasure building by each thrust of his hips.

Emily closed her eyes tight at the somewhat painful pleasure he was causing, another orgasm building even though she was exhausted already. When she came it was fast and hard, the air stolen from her lungs as Aaron whispered words of encouragement in her ear.

He could feel his own release building but he forced himself to hold off as he upped the power of the toy and Emily let out a sob. He got back up on his knees between her legs, checked if she really did need to stop but could see her nod quickly, wordlessly letting him know that she was okay.

Emily could barely breathe, her body trembling from pleasure as he continued to fuck into her with rough thrusts. She could feel another orgasm building, before she even had fully come down from her previous one and she threw her head back into the pillows with a groan.

“You don’t think I can feel you clenching again? That I can’t tell that you’re about to come?” He taunted and her eyes snapped to his. He pulled on a nipple and it was enough to get her to fall over the edge of ecstasy again. She cried out, her voice raw as her eyesight blurred.

“Good girl, so good for me. So pretty.” He mumbled as his own orgasm built, not able to hold back for much longer. But he kept the toy against her clit, even when Emily tried to jerk away from the stimulation.

“Fuck it’s too much…” She whispered, her body tired, mind numb from pleasure and him.

“Then don’t come, but you’re staying here until I do.” He grunted as he thrust harder against her, changed his angle a little and watched as Emily’s mouth fell open in a silent scream.

He hit against her spot perfectly, forcing another orgasm out of her in no time at all. She was sure she would pass out, she couldn’t breathe, her body feeling heavy and light at the same time as he fucked her through one more orgasm.

Aaron growled as she came again, this time unexpectedly and the tight clenching of her around him was the last push he needed. He came hard and deep inside of her, her name rumbling deep in his chest as he gave in to his own pleasure. When he felt like he could breathe again he collapsed on top of her, kissed her desperately before rolling to the side.

He gave himself a few seconds before moving to release her from the cuffs and she curled into his body. She was still trembling and his arms wrapped around her, stroking gently along her skin as she calmed down and slowly came back to herself.

“Fuck that was intense.” She said after a couple of minutes and he laughed and kissed the top of her head and then gently angled her face towards his to stamp a kiss to her lips.

“It was amazing, you’re amazing.” He reached for the bottle of water and handed it to her. She took long gulps of water before handing it back and he drank the rest.

“I love you.” She says as she gets comfortable on top of him.

“I love you too.” He brushes some hair out of her face and smiles. “So, wanna go again?”

“Not a chance, you’re not allowed to touch me for at least three days.”

“Oh sweetheart, we both know that you’ll be on me tomorrow.” He laughs as her mouth falls open in exaggerated disbelief.

“You wish.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #dom aaron hotchner #sub emily prentiss

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years ago

Text

Whumptober Day 3 (Luke Alvez x Male BAU Reader)

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

This is my 1,800th post lol, that’s absolutely mental, also I went all out on this one, please please please read the warnings and tags.

Also there’s aspects of it that aren’t perfect but I’m okay with that, maybe I’ll change it in the future, maybe I won’t, who knows lol

Warnings: major character death, guns, suicide, suicide attempt, Russian roulette, failed suicide, dead body (not graphic, I don’t think)

Word Count: 2034

@whumptober-archive

"Say goodbye," You motion vaguely to your mouth, duct taped shut, with as much sass as you physically could. "Ah, not you. Bad hostages don't get to say goodbye. Bad hostages don't get closure." You glare at the man as he taps your nose with a grin. "No, you don't get closure." He turned around, scanning the other hostages, eyes settling on Luke who's in front of you. "He can get closure,"

You shut your eyes, hoping that, to outsiders, it looks like your mourning not being able to say goodbye to those you love. You know you're being selfish, but you don't know if you can listen to Luke exchanging his last goodbyes with Lisa.

This unsub (name still unknown) had taken large groups of citizens hostage, hurting and threatening them, before forcing members to phone their loved ones and say goodbye before he killed them. He had done this four times already with no hostages making it out alive. You and Luke were just on a coffee run when the unsub took control of the room, it was only a small coffee shop (you had convinced Luke to support a small business, he had rolled his eyes with a small smile before agreeing), and now here you were.

The unsub drags Luke to the phone, who punches in some numbers before it begins to ring. It takes three rings for Lisa to answer.

“Hello?” You furrowed your eyebrows at the voice. That certainly wasn’t Lisa.

“Hey,” Luke voice wavered

“Luke? What’s wrong?”

“Emily, I-” Luke cut himself off, swallowing. He needed to make this sound as believable as possible. “He’s making us say goodbye,”

“Luke-”

“Just let me talk, let me talk, please,” Luke’s eyes drift from the phone to you. “I know we work together and we aren’t really supposed to have relationships at work but the second I get out of this- the second, I want to be with you. I love you, I think I have for a while, but I just, things got too messy and I couldn’t say anything, I was with Lisa, you were with Kai and it just didn’t line up. But if- when I make it through this, you and I? We’re going to make up for lost time.”

At the police station, Emily’s eyes flicked up to Rossi, “We’re going to be together, you’re going to get out of this,” She hoped Luke would get the message. We’re coming for you.

Garcia’s heart ached as she and the rest of the team watched over CCTV. The situation was not good to say the least. They watch as Luke confessed his love to you through Emily, they watched the emotions fly through your eyes despite your best efforts to mask them. They saw your hands trembling slightly in front of you as you listened, as Luke’s eyes filled with tears, hands twitching towards you. All he wanted to do was embrace you, love you, be with you.

“I love you, so much, so much it physically hurts, but in the best way possible,” Luke said, only breaking eye contact to take a breath. “I’m a better person for knowing you, even if we don’t get the chance to be with each other, I’m a better person for loving you,”

Your sob was muffled by the tape covering your lips, but your shoulders still shook, the tears still trickled down your cheeks, sliding past the tape and under your chin. He loved you too. All this time, all those years could have been spent together. All this time wasted dancing around each other when you could have been together. Perhaps you would live together by now, engaged? Married? Thinking about kids? You’ve always known you wanted kids. You let yourself imagine having kids with Luke, him chasing them around the garden, the kids and Luke in a fit of giggles while you hold a hot cup of coffee close to your chest.

“And I’m so sorry that we may never become an ‘us’,” Luke added gently.

The unsub’s smirking, until he sees your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He presses his gun to Luke’s temple. “You’re not talking to her, are you?” He spits.

Luke doesn’t answer until the unsub pushes the barrel of the gun harder into his temple. “No,”

“You’re speaking to him, aren’t you?” He says, using his other hand to point at you.

“Yes,”

The man gives a laugh before turning to you, gun still against Luke’s head. “You, get up,” When you don’t move, he shoves the gun harder against Luke’s head, “Get up!”

You scramble up the best you can with your hands tied. “You too Luke,” The unsub’s hands are clenched around Luke’s shirt collar, “You, not-Luke, in front, come on.” You stand in front of Luke, “Good, now, you’re going to lead the way, try anything, I put a bullet through lover-boy’s head.” You nod sharply.

You follow the unsub’s directions, it leads you down into the basement, under a drain and into the drain systems. You do as he says, not finding a safe opportunity to try and disarm him, not whilst his gun is flush up against Luke’s skin. There’s not even a chance to disarm him when he climbs up the ladder. He’s quick to put the cover back on. You look around, you appear to be in an abandoned warehouse. He forces you and Luke both on the ground, kneeling against the concrete floor, opposite each other but still relatively close.

When the unsub takes the duct tape from your mouth, the first words that come out are aimed at Luke, an urgent ‘I love you too’, he smiles and nods with a quiet ‘I know’ and you find yourself smiling.

The unsub, disgusted by this, doesn’t waste any more time. He tips the bullets out of the gun, placing one back into it’s rightful place in the chamber before pocketing the rest - the two of you too caught up in the moment to notice - he spins the chamber before shoving it into its position. He aims the gun and pulls the trigger.

The team back at the station split up, getting in their cars, speeding to the location Garcia sent them - she was able to narrow down which tunnel he would take based on the profile. Emily, Rossi, and Tara get there first, Matt, Spencer, and JJ pulling up a second later. Emily orders Matt and Tara to head round back, the rest of them are going through the front. There’s the familiar sound of a gunshot and the team starts running.

There’s a loud bang and something warm splatters against your cheek. You watch as a small strip of blood rolls down Luke’s temple before his body collapses to the ground, lifeless, eyes already beginning to gloss over.

You don’t realise you're screaming until the unsub’s hand clamps over your mouth. You struggle against him. Luke. You needed to get to Luke. You shout, bite, everything you can think of. Eventually, he decides it’s not worth it and he stops, turns and runs. Leaving you alone with Luke. Sobbing, you scramble to your left, grabbing a piece of glass from the floor, frantically cutting at the rope on your hands - not caring as you accidentally scrape the glass across your skin. “Luke? Luke, hang on!” When the rope’s off your wrists, now a bundle on the floor, you scan the room, spotting the phone you dial Garcia’s number, it being the only one you have memorised (other than Luke’s). Garcia answers, patching you through to everyone as she’s tracking your phone. You drop the phone, no longer caring about them on the other side - help was on the way, now you needed to be with Luke.

You crouch beside him, hands hovering for a moment before pulling him up and into your lap, his back flush against your chest, his head lolls to the side, lifeless. You press your forehead in the crook of his neck. “Luke?” The silence makes you whimper, “Luke please,” Your hands clench the fabric of his t-shirt tightly, you sniff, “Please?” You clutch him tighter to your chest, a sob wracking through your body. “I love you too,” You cry, “So much, so please don’t leave me,”

In the silence, you open your eyes. You spot the gun, not too far from where you’re sat. You could join him. You could finally be with him, after all this time. You’re moving slowly, sluggish. It’s heavy and cold in your hands, sending pins and needles up your hand, of anticipation? Anxiety? Grief? You’re not sure. You draw in a deep breath as you close your eyes as you lift the gun to your temple, waiting for the courage. A tear slips past your eyelashes, you draw in one final breath. You’re ready. You nod to yourself, keeping your eyes closed as you begin to pull the trigger.

“(Y/N), no!”

There’s a click and you’re ready. But nothing happens, your face falls and your eyes snap open, no. No, no, no, no, no, please no. You open the chamber and there’s nothing there. “Fuck!” You growl, you look up, locking eyes with Emily, “It’s empty, there’s nothing there!”

“(Y/N), we need you to give me the gun,” Emily’s voice is level but you shake your head.

“No,” Your answer is immediate, “No, he- and I-”

You don’t process Spencer running towards Luke, checking his pulse with JJ, before he looks up at her and shakes his head. You don’t see Rossi and edging closer to Emily. You don’t hear Matt and Tara walking up behind you.

“I know,” Emily answers softly. “I know, but I need you to give me the gun,”

“There’s nothing in it!” You yell, “It’s fucking empty!” You throw it, following it with your glare. And it lands, a foot from Luke’s body. Luke. You’re about to run to him when you see Emily give a small nod and Matt’s arms wrap tightly around, pulling you close to him. “Get off!”

“(Y/N), it’s okay, it’s me,”

“Get off me!” Your breaths coming in pants as you try to manoeuvre your way out of the hold, all you want is Luke. You want to be with Luke. Why can’t you be with Luke? A sob leaves your lips, “Luke?!” Part of you expects him to sit up, joke about having a headache, for him to glide over to you and gently envelop you in his embrace. Your frantic eyes meet Emily’s, filled with tears. “I need- I need to be with him, please-”

Rossi comes into your view, tears trekking down his cheeks, but his voice is even, “Kid, I need you to listen to me,” Your eyes meet his, a sense of comfort rushes over you. “I need you to take some deep breaths with me, okay?” You nod frantically, wanting him to know you’ll try, you will. “Okay, breathe with me,”

You follow his breathing, in for four, hold, out for four. Your breath hitches for a moment, before his voice calmly guides you through it. Five minutes pass and they’re no longer worried you’re an immediate threat to yourself, Matt’s arms are gone and you miss the comfort. They were helping ground you. You turn to him, chin wobbling as you remember and he understands and gently wraps his arms around you. Emily and Dave send him a look and he sighs before turning his attention back to you. “I’m going to need to put these on, just as a precaution,”

You nod, what else could you do? With the handcuffs in place (in front of you), Matt places an arm around your shoulders, you bury your head into his shoulders. He rubs his hand in circles in the centre of your back, “Let’s go,” He says softly.

Shaking your head you whisper, “I can’t see him like that again,” The image flashes past your eyes, body, lifeless, pool of blood. You shudder, hands gripping Matt’s shirt as you try and push the image from your mind.

“That’s okay,” Matt answers, “We’re going out the way I came in,”

“Okay.”

“We’ll get you through this, (Y/N), I promise.”

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sydsaint · 2 years ago

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📣📣UNDERRATED DUO ALERT📣📣

Summary: The reader is a friend of Mark Sterlings. She has a run-in with Nese and Woods while looking for Mark. Nese and Woods decide to have a little fun at the readers expense.

It's a busy night for AEW, and you've got a list of stuff that needs to get done as long as your arm. Your first stop on the list is to swing by Mark Sterling's locker room to deliver him some papers.

"Mark, you in there?" You get to the locker room door and knock twice, obviously in a hurry.

Shuffling can be heard in the room before the door slides open and Tony Nese is smiling at you. "Well well well, what do we have here?" He grins at you, bare chest staring you in the face.

"Tony." You reply dryly. "Where's Mark at? We need to talk." You ask him, trying to keep your eyes from wandering.

"Awe come on, Y/N. You can talk to me, I'm a good listener." Tony grins at you.

You roll your eyes, finding it harder and harder by the second to keep your gaze fixed on Tony's face.

"Mark! Get your ass out here!" You shout over Tony. But his grin doesn't falter.

The commotion at the door gets the attention of Tony's tag partner, Josh Woods. Woods walks over to the door and peaks over Tony.

"What's going on over here?" He glances over Tony's shoulder. "Oh? Y/N, what's going on babe?" He cracks a flirty grin when he sees you.

'Oh, God.' You think to yourself. "Mark, come on. I'm busy! So call off the wonder twins and come out here!" You shout one more time for Sterling.

"Sterling ain't here right now," Josh explains, eyeing you up. "Which is good. Right, Nese?" He glances at Tony.

Tony nods, that same mischievous grin on his face. "For us, that's for sure." He clarifies. "Come on Y/N, why don't you come in and hang with us for a bit?" He offers.

"Yeah!" Woods agrees. "We don't bite, sweetie. Much." He smirks at you.

You roll your eyes at Josh's line, clutching your papers to your chest. "I don't suppose either of you knows where he's at?" You ask them but regret it as soon as the question leaves your mouth.

Woods and Nese share a glance before they both look back at you.

"We might." Nese shrugs. "Depends on what we get out of it." He adds.

"How about helping a co-worker out?" You reply with a sigh.

Josh laughs and steps forward into the doorway. He lifts a tattooed arm above your head and leans down to your level. "Now what would be the fun in that?" He asks you and you swallow heavily.

Nese chuckles next to Woods, both of them picking up on your faltering gaze. You're losing the battle. Badly.

Just when you think that you've lost, Mark comes around the corner and spots you lingering in the doorway of the locker room with Nese and Woods.

"Y/N?" Mark calls out to you. "What are you doing back here?"

You snap out of your thoughts and sharply turn on your heel at the sound of Sterling's voice. "Mark! Just the man that I was looking for." You smile at him. "Here, these are for you."

You shove the proper papers at Mark's chest and make a small glance back at Tony and Josh. They both grin at you, clearly not done with their little game.

"Bye, Y/N." Tony waves as you hurry off.

"Yeah, bye, Y/N." Josh does the same, adding a wink as you slink off to try and salvage your composure.

Mark watches you hurry off before he turns to Nese and Woods. "What's got her in such a rush?" He asks.

Tony and Josh both shrug and share one last look. Both of them come to the agreement that they're gonna visit you after the show and have a little fun.

You deliver the rest of your papers and get the rest of your chores done as the show drags on. But the whole night you are plagued with thoughts of Nese and Woods.

'Come on, Y/N. Thirsty much?' You scoff at the shameless thoughts running through your head. 'But I bet they'd be a fun pair.' You argue with yourself.

You can't help but wonder if Nese and Woods are as good of a tag team in other aspects of their lives outside of the ring.

Near the end of the night, you are gathering your purse and jacket from one of the back offices when suddenly a shadow is cast over you.

You turn around and find Josh and Tony looming over you. Both of them are dressed to go out as well.

"Tony, Josh. What can I do for you two?" You ask them with a professional tone.

The pair break apart and slip to either side of you. Two strong arms hook around the back of your shoulder. "Come on sweetie, we're taking you out for drinks," Tony informs you, leaning close to your ear.

"Yep! And we all know that you want to, Y/N." Josh adds from the other side of you, urging you forward with an encouraging push. "So don't try and protest it." He grins.

"I...okay." You nod, knowing that you won't be able to get away.

All of your nasty thoughts of the night come rushing back again. 'Looks like I'm gonna find out just how good of a team they are.' You think to yourself.

You swallow as the pair urge you forward with grins on their faces. You know that there is no getting out of this one. Not after earlier tonight. But on the other hand. Josh and Tony DO Make quite the pair. So it can't be all that bad.

#aew #aew dynamite #aew dark #wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew elevation #aew imagine #all elite wrestling #aew wrestling #x reader #tony nese #josh woods #Roh #ring of honor #Premier athlete #Duo

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scuttling · 3 years ago

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In Those Jeans

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,599 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Blow jobs, Thigh riding, Car sex, Unprotected sex, Semi-public sex Summary: After almost two years of dating, you and Aaron still can't keep your eyes—or hands—off of each other, even at a company picnic; but who could blame you, when he looks like that? *Inspired by this gifset I think we all reblogged last night. I'm feral for Hotch in jeans. 🤤 Link to AO3 or read below! As Aaron’s girlfriend of almost two years, there have been countless times when you’ve gotten to see the rarer sides of his personality, things he doesn’t show at work, or at least not often.

You’ve seen his silly side with Jack when he builds pillow forts, plays tag in the backyard, makes messes in the kitchen. You’ve seen his sweet side when he gives you a back rub just because, makes your favorite dinner when you’ve had a stressful week, when he’s there to talk or just cuddle after appointments with your therapist, which he knows can bring your mood down a little.

You’ve seen him tender, romantic, playful, emotional, loving and caring and capable, but nothing compares to the hidden knowledge you have of one aspect of his personality: your man is horny as hell, and also kind of a freak.

At work, of course, he is the epitome of stoic, expressionless, buttoned-up suit, but a little flash of panty, or a sultry look, or even a well-timed innuendo is enough to have you knees up in the backseat of a government-owned SUV before the rest of your team even leaves the parking garage.

You silently thank god for tinted windows; you not-so-silently thank god for Aaron.

It’s amazing, because you are the same way, half turned-on at any given time of the day, catapulted to full on horny mess depending on the look on his face, the outfit he’s wearing, whether or not he calls you by your last name—before you were dating, you longed to hear him say your first name, but now it’s the impersonal bark of your surname that really gets you going.

Because you share the same predisposition for being down to fuck most of the time, all it takes is a raised eyebrow or a sway of the hips to signal you’re in the mood for something to happen, and if it’s physically feasible and won’t get you arrested, you usually follow through.

It’s how you end up getting absolutely wrecked in the back of the SUV at an FBI family picnic event—you don’t feel great about it, but it is what it is, and it all started with a pair of jeans. Aaron is hot. There’s no doubt about it, and it’s not up for debate. He doesn’t see it, but that just makes him hotter; if other people don’t see it, that just makes them stupid. You see it, though, everyday, in the smallest of ways, can’t stop seeing it. When he gets ready for the picnic, throws on a soft, worn t-shirt and a pair of jeans that fit him so well it’s almost criminal, you make a noise in the back of your throat, and Aaron grins.

“What’s happening over there?” he asks as you sit on the edge of the bed, hooking the strap of your sandal over your heel. You exhale, scowl.

“I think you know very well what’s happening.” He chooses a belt from the back of the door, slides it through the loops on the jeans, and your mouth waters. “Fuck, Aaron.”

“No time for that,” he says, looking up at you through his stupidly dark eyelashes, and he clasps the buckle, smooths his hands down his thighs. You’re going to be soaked before you even leave the house.

“I beg to differ.” You stand from the bed, twirl a little in a blue sundress you know Aaron won’t be able to resist for long. Two can play at this game: if he wants to watch you slowly lose your composure in public, you’re sure as hell not going to make it easy.

“Ugh. Love those little dresses,” he murmurs, stepping toward you, but you shake your head and wag a finger at him.

“Nope, no time for that,” you say, but you giggle when he narrows his eyes and stalks closer anyway.

He tackles you, tosses you back on the bed, kisses your mouth and neck, then whispers dirty things into your ear and rubs you through your panties until you come so loud it could wake the dead. You undo that stupid belt, tug his jeans down just enough to free his cock, toss your hair over your shoulder, and blow him like you’re being graded on it—if that were the case, you’d be getting extra credit for technique, no doubt about it.

You leave a little later than intended, and you know you just made a huge mistake, because getting him out of those jeans again is going to be all you can think about for the rest of the day; you’re not certain what’s going through his head, but you know for a fact he’s thinking pretty much the same thing.

Even though you’re both bummed that it’s Jack’s weekend with Haley and he's missing the picnic, you have to admit it’s kind of good timing, because you don’t let yourself get distracted when he is with you, but Aaron is looking so damn distracting today. You sit at a picnic table with JJ and Garcia, drinking iced tea and watching Will and Aaron play catch with Henry and a couple other kids. You’d say this is just a tactic, because seeing Aaron interact with kids always gives you baby (and babymaking) fever, but you know deep down he just loves children, and that makes your heart warm more than anything.

When he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face? Now that’s a tactic, and a damn good one. You can’t hold back your whimper, and your friends take one look at you and share an amused glance.

“It’s a family picnic,” JJ says, scolding and teasing all at once. “Keep it in your pants.”

“It’s his pants you need to be worried about,” you mutter, and you fan yourself with your hand to try to bring yourself down a notch. That, of course, does not work, so you sigh, stand from the table, pour a cup of lemonade, and give them a wink before walking over to Aaron’s side. You get his attention with an innocent look, hand over the lemonade with a sweet smile.

“You look hot. And thirsty,” you tell him, and he smiles, tips his head back, and drinks it all in one gulp. You watch him swallow, squeeze your thighs together.

“So do you,” he says with a hint of a smirk, handing back the cup, and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Thanks for the lemonade; now let me watch you walk away.” You pull back, lick your lips slowly and turn around, throwing him a look over your shoulder as you make your way back to the picnic table. Emily and Derek are there now too, and Emily laughs when you take your seat.

“Two years in and you still look at each other like that? Please tell me your secret,” she says with a grin, taking a sip of her iced tea.

“Tons of quality orgasms,” you answer with a fond sigh, tucking your chin in the palm of your hand and watching Aaron cross the lot. There’s something so powerful about his stride that it makes you horny just to watch him walk; your downstairs brain is so stupid. “He also makes really good jalapeno mac and cheese.” The answer to your question, when am I going to get fucked by my gorgeous boyfriend?, will be answered shortly, you’re fairly certain; you have a good feeling, because you’re talking to an agent that works on the floor above yours, and the strap of your dress has fallen down your shoulder, and he keeps glancing at it. You’d fix it, but that would only draw more attention to it, and you can already feel Aaron looking at you.

He doesn’t get jealous often, but get him in the right mood and his dumb caveman instincts switch from fight or flight to fight or fuck pretty quickly; when he heads your way with swift, purposeful steps, you’re pretty sure you know which one has been activated today.

“Hey. Time to go,” he says, looking over your face; he turns to nod at the guy you’re talking to, then very slowly hooks his finger in the strap of your dress and slides it back into place, making eye contact with you while he does it. You don’t know why that makes you so goddamn hot, but your breathing picks up and you bite your lip, take his hand when he offers it.

You don’t say goodbye to anyone, just follow him quickly to the car and climb into the backseat when he opens the door. The second he closes it behind him, his mouth is on yours, and you fist your fingers in his t-shirt, hitch a leg over his hip, and pull him closer.

“I want you, I need you,” you breathe into the kiss, and he slides one hand around your back, uses the other to push up your dress and grab a palmful of your ass.

“I know, baby. God, I want you. You look fucking perfect in that dress; I want to tear it off.” It’s sort of expensive, and pretty, but fuck, you’re going to let him. He shifts so his back is against the seat, pulls you into his lap, and you moan when he presses you right on top of his cock, hard and bulging against the seam of his jeans. “Feel what you do to me, when you’re looking like a goddamn angel and other men can’t take their eyes off of you?” You tug on his hair, kiss him roughly, move your hands to his belt, but he stops you with gentle fingers. “First I want you to ride my thigh. You’ve been staring at them all day; do you want to?”

“Fuck, absolutely,” you whine, and he puts his hands on your hips, shifts you so your knees are on either side of his perfect, firm, denim clad thigh and encourages you to grind against it. You don’t need much encouragement, but he eases down one of the straps of your dress and maneuvers it so that he can bare your breast, get his lips around your nipple while you work to get yourself off. “Oh, god yeah.”

You plant your hands on his shoulders, dig your nails in through the soft fabric, and slide against him like a needy, horny teenager. You’re wet, and he’s undoubtedly going to be wet too by the time you’re done with him, leg soaked with your come—god, that’s a hot prospect. Both of you are panting, not from exertion but arousal, and you move a hand to the back of his head, grip his hair in your fingers while he sucks and softly bites your nipple. When he pulls back, his lips are wet, and you capture them in a kiss.

“Yeah, you’re doing so good, keep going. Keep humping, baby, come on me.” He gets a hand in your hair, kisses your neck, and you cling to him for dear life, broad back and shoulders beneath your hands as you work your hips desperately in pursuit of your orgasm. “So fucking perfect, come on me,” he mutters against your throat, and you hug him close, absolutely lose it as your climax makes your body tense from shoulders to toes.

You moan in his ear like an absolute slut—if you are one, he’s made you that way, so it’s only fair—and he kisses your mouth, deep, rough, wet kisses that ensure your desire does not dip in the slightest. You feel dirty and incredible, but no more relieved or satisfied than you were ten minutes ago.

A little bit of Aaron is never enough; no amount of Aaron is ever enough.

He makes sure you can hold yourself up and then takes his hands off of you, opens his belt and his pants and pushes them down his thighs far enough that you’ll be comfortable. You slide off of his leg to slip your panties off—they’re useless at this point anyway—and he gets his hands on your hips and puts you in his lap, holds you up so you can line his cock up with your entrance and let him press inside.

“Mmh, fuck, Aaron,” you gasp, and with the way he looks at you, eyes dark and serious and possessive, you know this will be quick for the both of you. You wrap one hand around his bicep, press back against his knee with the other; he slides his hands up to your waist, dragging the skirt of your dress up with him so he can watch himself disappear inside you, which is ten different kinds of sexy.

“Thinking about this all day—burying my cock inside your sweet, tight pussy, coming deep inside you. Do you like it, getting fucked here because I want you so bad I can’t stand to wait?” Even though you know you shouldn’t, you do, and you nod, moan yes when he fucks up inside you, strong thighs flexing. “Me too, love it, love you.”

“Love you,” you murmur while you bounce in his lap, eyes on his, tongue slipping over your lips while you snap your hips against his thrusts. “Gonna milk your cock, take every last drop; greedy for it.” Aaron groans, tightens his hands on your waist, and you clench around him when he comes, riding him fast and thorough; you follow quickly, leaning forward to rest your head against his shoulder while you shudder through the pleasure.

His hands are gentle after, smoothing up your back, around your neck, and he pulls you closer for a soft, sweet, passionate kiss. When it breaks, you smile against each other's lips.

“Tease,” you whisper, smoothing your hands over his throat, his jaw. “New unwritten rule: if you wear those jeans in public, I get as much sex as I want for the rest of the night.” He chuckles, but ultimately nods.

“Deal. New unwritten rule: when we’re out in public and someone is looking at you like that guy was looking at you, I have permission to throw you over my shoulder and take you home and remind you why it is that you belong with me.” You pull him close for a hard kiss and grin.

“Deal, caveman. So what do you want to do now?” He wrinkles his nose in contemplation, straightens up the top half of your dress.

“I think I want to go home and tear this off of you as previously mentioned,” he says; you bite your lip and nod. “What do you want to do?”

That’s a loaded question, but at the moment, only one thing really comes to mind.

“Fuck me wearing these clothes again; I don’t care where or how, you can surprise me.”

Aaron is, unsurprisingly, on board with that plan; you slip off of him, smooth out your dress, and he pulls his pants up—they are still very wet from your first orgasm, and you rub the spot with the edge of your dress to no avail.

“Don’t get pulled over, Agent,” you joke, because that would be both very hard and very easy to explain, and he groans like you’ve just done something very sexy.

“Love it when you call me Agent,” he says, pulling you in for a kiss, and you plan some super hot roleplay for later and hop out of the car so you can climb into the front seat like the fully-functioning, non-horny adult that you are.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader

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meiliarotten · 1 year ago

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Team Fortress 2 Kinktober Time

Day 2: Desk Toy (Toys)

🔞MINORS DNI🔞

Pairings: Spy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gonna be honest with y’all, I didn’t bother with summaries for a lot of these when I originally posted them on ao3. So- how about a fun fact! This was the first Spy x Reader I ever wrote!

Tags: Overstimulation, toys, praise, kinda exhibitionism?

Word Count: 1.1k

The Masterlist

You gripped the edge of the desk until your knuckles went white, doubling over as another orgasm wracked your body. A sob-like moan ripped from your throat as you clenched around the unforgiving silicon within you, held firmly to the desk with a suction cup at its base. A sweet mix of pleasure and overstimulation washed over you, so thoroughly that you felt like you could drown in it.

And in front of you sat the conductor and sole viewer of the entire lewd display. Spy leaned back in a luxurious, expensive looking chair. He watched you with a steady gaze. The only sign that he was enjoying himself at all was the obvious tent in his pants, which he had ignored in favor of watching you ruin yourself on the fancy toy he had bought.

It was a small but thick dildo made from pitch black silicon, curved in just the right places. Spy had proudly showed off its best aspects, boasting that he had purchased it just for you. Of course, you were eager to try it out with him. You just hadn’t expected it to play out like this.

��Aw, tired?” Spy asked, faux pity in his tone and gaze as he looked you over. “I did not say you could stop though, did I?”

You had lost track of how many times you had orgasmed long ago, and the ache of overstimulation seemed to invade every nerve of your body. However, Spy continued to push you onward. He met your gaze with an expectant look. He wasn’t about to offer you any respite.

So, with some effort, you continued to thrust yourself down onto the toy, ignoring the pervasive ache in your core. Part of you wondered if you would even be able to make yourself come again at this point. You were so wet, your slick ran down the sides of the toy, copious enough to drip down onto the dark wood below.

“Look at you, making such a mess of yourself, ma bonne fille,” Spy said. You flushed at his words, wondering how he could remain so casual while saying such filthy things to you.

You simply moved faster, plunging the toy into yourself with renewed determination. You desperately chased yet another orgasm, trying to focus on your own feelings rather than Spy and his ever attentive gaze. Still, he managed to worm his way into your thoughts.

“Tell me, what are you thinking of right now?” Spy asked, almost as if he could read your mind.

“What?” You asked with a gasp, pausing and allowing the dizzying sensations to ebb away for just a moment.

“What are you thinking about as you bounce on that toy, mon amour?” Spy asked, a bit more firmly this time.

You stammered as you answered, struggling to think clearly, and in the end you were only able to get out one coherent word; “You.”

Spy simply nodded, waving his hand in a gesture that seemed to mean that he wanted you to go on, to be a bit more specific .

“I’m thinking about you,” you gasped, putting in immense effort to speak coherently between moans. “I’m thinking about you finally letting me get off of this damn thing and fucking me yourself!”

Again, all you received in response was a nod, and perhaps a grin if you squinted. It was frustrating to see him looking so calm and collected, despite his obvious arousal. You couldn’t imagine the effort and self control it must have taken for him to ignore his own needs for so long like this. He ordered you to make a mess of yourself over and over again for his viewing pleasure, only to sit there and observe you as if you were a mildly interesting film.

“Spy, please,” you begged, your movements starting to slow down as your strength began to dwindle. “I don’t think I can keep going.”

“Here chérie, let me help,” Spy said, and with that, he stood from his seat for the first time since this ordeal began. He paced around the desk to stand behind you. A gentle hand on your shoulder pulled you so that you were leaning back slightly. You wavered for a moment, trying to look behind you to the edge of the desk.

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t let you fall,” Spy said, his other hand resting on your back, promising to hold you steady.

You took a deep breath, facing forward again and grinding down against the toy when Spy told you to. A pang of genuine pleasure was felt through the haze of overstimulation when hit your g-spot. A choked moan tore from your throat as you thrust yourself down, focusing on that sensitive area.

“Ah bonne, that is a good spot, no?” Spy said, laughing softly as he heard your moans reach a sudden peak.

“Oh god, yes,” you said, moving faster with renewed strength and vigor.

“Oui, there’s the enthusiasm I wanted to see!” Spy said, beginning to caress your body. You sighed at the feeling of gloved hands traveling over your bare skin, teasing at your breasts and other erogenous areas. Eventually, his hands came to rest on your hips, gently guiding your movements.

“You’re doing so very well. Are you going to come soon?” He asked, close enough that his breath could be felt against the back of your neck. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yes, oh fuck!” you became almost unintelligible as you desperately ground your hips downward, chasing your climax.

“That’s right chérie, come for me, just like that,” Spy said, chuckling at your rapidly dwindling control. One of his arms weaved around your waist, his hand reaching down to rub at your clit. The rich feeling of leather clad fingers proved to be enough to tip you over the edge.

Once again, you writhed on the toy, your hands scrabbling to anchor yourself on smooth wood, eventually clutching the edges of the desk. Spy caressed you and pressed soothing kisses to the nape of your neck as you rode out your orgasm, and when you had finally come down from the high, he carefully hoisted your body up and off of the toy. Almost immediately, you collapsed onto your side, legs dangling off the side of the desk.

"Très bien. You’ve done such a good job for me, ma belle chérie,” he crooned, still petting and traversing the curves of your body with his hands.

“Thank you,” you stammered, relishing the feeling of leather gloves smoothing over your skin.

“However…”

You didn’t even get the chance to register that last word when you were suddenly rolled onto your back to face Spy, barely managing to hold yourself upright by your still trembling arms. He grinned down at you, and you saw the lust in his eyes, the lust that he had been keeping tight reins on throughout this whole ordeal, until now. You watched with an intoxicating mix of eagerness and trepidation as he unzipped his fly.

“Surely, you can handle just one more round, darling?”

#spy x reader #spy tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #spy x you #tf2 fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #tf2 smut #minors dni #spy team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 spy #team fortress two

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sugako · 4 years ago

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after dinner special

bokuto x f!reader x hinata sum: after seeing the way his teammate looks at you, bokuto comes up with a plan to help all parties cw: 18+ only minors dni i am begging you, established relationship (bokuto x reader), slight manipulation (?? reader/bo make a secret plan to seduce hinata and he wants to so not really but idk what else to tag it as), oral (f!receiving), double pussyjob, nipple play, orgasm denial, D/s, spit roast, unprotected, hinabo if you squint extra hard wc: 4.2k a/n: finally back from the dead with this wayyy overdue fic ive been thinking about/writing for months, no edits or beta bc i'm too impatient and haven't posted in so long

Above all else, Bokuto was incredibly perceptive to other’s emotions. Among other aspects, that quality had really drawn you to him even if it wasn’t as extraordinarily overt as his confidence and enthusiasm. His perceptiveness didn’t end with you, of course, he was well-connected with his teammates, which meant when he saw the way Hinata’s eyes just barely glazed over when he met you he knew there was something more happening in his head. He watched the burning grow in Hinata after he had witnessed the two of you had, quite obviously, snuck off to another room during a get-together at Meian’s, spit still drying at the corner of your dry, puffy lips a week prior.

Even he wasn’t sure what exactly his plan was as he started up in the locker room a couple weeks later, oversharing every little detail he could recall about your body, namely when it was under him. Ignoring Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s groans for him to stop while Shugo and Oliver snickered to themselves reminiscing about their own escapades from a handful of years ago, he focused on Hinata’s reaction.

Shōyō remained uncharacteristically quiet as he rambled on about how cute your soft tits were, only speaking to quietly excuse himself to the bathroom. He was careful, but not careful enough to hide the tent in his shorts.

Not one to keep a secret, the words came tumbling from his mouth when he burst into your shared apartment.

“I think Hinata likes you!” He managed, tearing off his shoes to stumble into the hallway to wrap you in a tight hug like he did nearly every day.

“I-...what?” You choke, wrapping a tentative arm back around him and peeling away to look at him in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Not like… I don’t know, I think he wants to fuck you.” The smile on his face doesn’t waver, only confusing you.

“I’m not sure how to take this.” You deadpan, brows just short of knitting together. “Why…?”

“Well if you would like that I certainly wouldn’t mind.” His teeth graze over your skin as he pecks messy kisses all over your cheeks and neck.

“You wouldn’t mind?” You blankly repeat back, holding his back by his muscled shoulders to make him look you in the eyes. “Because not minding something and wanting something are very different and I just want to make sure whatever we’re about to talk about we’re just being really clear.”

Bokuto inhaled a massive breath, squeezing his eyes shut tight as he collected exactly what he wanted to say to you. Before he could, the smell coming from the kitchen distracted his senses, leaving him to weakly exhale and blink his eyes open. “Talk over dinner?”

The long talk over the dinner table was eventually fruitful. After he collected himself and stuffed his rumbling stomach, Bokuto was better able to explain what he had seen in Hinata. It made you recall every time you had seen him and you would be lying if you said you didn’t see it too. He wasn’t exactly a subtle person.

When it came down to it, you certainly weren’t opposed. Bokuto certainly seemed interested in the prospect of sharing you, especially with his favorite prodigy as he liked to class him. You recognized that Hinata was attractive and you had to admit that the concept of being squished between the two thick, bubbly men was alluring as long as he was truly interested.

Before the full invitation to come over for dinner - specially prepared by you - had even slipped from Bokuto’s mouth, Hinata was eagerly accepting. Part of you dreaded the entire ordeal, anxieties bubbling up about the lead up and the talking beforehand that you had foolishly agreed to do most of. Over dinner you stayed a little quieter than usual, trying to gauge Hinata’s expression and body language.

When he politely excuses himself to use the restroom after finishing, Bokuto grabs your hand across the table, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles.

“If you’re nervous we can stop right here.” He whispers, grinning softly.

You can’t help but smile back, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay,” you assure him, “I am a little nervous, but I really want to.”

He opens his mouth to say something else, but is cut off by the sound of the bathroom door closing and the soft pad of Hinata’s feet down the hallway. Clearing your throat, you give a reassuring smile to Bokuto, and stand to face where Hinata soon pops out of.

“Hinata, would you-”

“Shōyō is fine!” He interjects. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“That’s fine,” you smile, ghosting your hand down his arm and resting your palm against his elbow. “Shōyō, would you mind helping me wash up in the kitchen. I feel bad asking the guest, but Kōtarō has something for you and you’ll get to it faster if I finish this.”

Hinata can feel his heart pounding behind his rib cage so hard he worries you can hear his pulse reverberating. You look so sweet with those pleading eyes staring at him, the warm touch of your fingertips sending heat to his chest.

“Of course, I don’t mind.” He nods, letting you lead him a room away to the kitchen.

“Great, thank you, this is such a big help.” You grin while placing the dirty dishes in the sink before you and handing him a dry towel. “You can just dry and put them in the cabinet in front of you.”

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyeing down your low-cut shirt as you squeeze your arms together and lean down to grab the first bowl. His eyes roll to the back of his head when you turn the tap on a little too fast and water splashes all over the front of your thin, pale dress, making the black lacy bra underneath pop.

“Whoops!” You exclaim, smiling a little too happily, feeling how his feet shift beside you. “This tap is a little loose, I always get messy and wet trying to do anything.”

He has to bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning, glad that your gaze is in the sink and not on his flushed face. He doesn’t want to feel this way about his friend’s girlfriend, but it’s so hard when you’re standing so close - did you take a step toward him? when did your hip start brushing against his? - and you look so pretty.

“So, Shōyō…” you start, handing him another dish, “Kōtarō talks about you a lot, you know.”

“Really?” His voice is pitched and strained, stopping short of choking on his own words.

“Yeah, he thinks you’re great. He was so excited when you joined the team. He, uh, he pays attention, a lot more than some people give him credit for.”

Hinata nods, carefully placing the bowl in the cupboard. “He’s great, I’ve always loved watching him play.”

“He’s fun to watch,” you agree, “You know he thinks….actually, can I just ask what your type is?” The words tumble out quickly as you try to gain confidence, a small bit of worry creeping into the back of your head.

“My type?” He repeats back, pausing in his drying motions. “I don’t know if I really have one. Just anyone I feel good with. Why?” When he turns to look at you again you’re turned to face him, a small smile lighting up your features.

“That’s a good way to look at things. I only ask because, well Kōtarō seems to think you have some kind of interest in me.” You force the words to come out casually, keeping your eyes on him. Hinata sputters and chokes on his own words, the way your hand comes down over his doing absolutely nothing to help him compose himself. “There’s no good way to say this, but he was thinking you could, uh well take what you’ve been thinking about, if you want to.”

Taking a deep swallow, he took a short deep breath to clear his mind. “And what do you think?”

Tension dissipates from your body at his question. “I think I would like you to do whatever you want. Touch me, kiss me, anything. Only if you want to.”

His fists clench and unclench again, gears turning in his head as he realizes this was planned. All those stories Bokuto told, the glint in his eyes for the past few weeks, the way you put yourself on display for him all night with that sly little smirk - it was all part of some plan. A little worried voice in the back of his head told him this was too good to be true. But you were offering yourself up to him, angled forward so your tits would pop and watching him so carefully as though he were a scared animal ready to run, and he knew it had to be true.

The timid, apprehensive look he had been sporting slowly drained from his face, replaced with a much more confident and delighted one. His hands moved from his sides to dig into your waist, lifting you up onto the counter behind you.

“Don’t tease me.” He whispers hoarsely, lips ghosting over the pulse of your throat. The loose dress Bokuto had purposefully picked out for you to wear for the evening rode up as Hinata settled his thick body between your welcoming knees.

“I’m not,” you pant, “Kōtarō really wanted this.”

A shuddered sigh comes from his chest as he rests his head against your shoulder, just barely kissing the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. You fidget restlessly, trying to pull his still body closer to no avail.

“Wanna know he wants this.” He says eventually. “I trust you, I just…”

“No, no, I get it.” You say a little too abruptly, fishing around for where your phone was tossed onto the counter. With shaky hands you hurried to click it open, immediately going to your messages, scrolling to the most recent chat with Bokuto where he depicted how much he wanted to see you fucked out on his and Hinata’s cocks in vivid detail. You push the phone into his hand. “You can scroll wherever, he mentioned it before that one’s just… yeah.”

“Oh, wow.” He breathes, glancing through a few other messages from earlier in the week. Gently, he sets the phone down beside you before pulling your hips to the edge of the counter. His lips collide with the base of your throat knocking the air right from you.

You wind your fingers up in his hair as he pressed harsh kisses straight down your front, his rough hands pushing the skirt of your dress up even higher, leaving the tops of your thighs completely exposed. He keeps journeying lower until his cheek is flush to the hem of your panties. When his nose presses up against the slowly growing damp patch leaking his shoulders heave as though to hold himself back.

“And he doesn’t want us to wait up…?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know completely. Bokuto had asked to make some kind of subtle move on Hinata in private, he figured it would be less stressful for the both of you, but he hadn’t said how far to go with him, and you weren’t really sure what he was doing in some other part of the house, and Hinata’s fingers were so hot against your skin…

“No, it’s fine.” You pant, desperation evident in your voice. He doesn’t need much more, hand moving to pull the stretchy fabric you had purposefully worn to the side, his wide tongue darting out to lap up the wetness seeping from you.

With an aching whine, you lean into his touch, massaging his head and bringing him closer to you with every burning second that passes. Not that you had expected him to be inexperienced by any means, but you hadn’t expected him to be so good. He was loud, moaning against your cunt as he buried his tongue inside of you, nose tapping against your pleading clit.

The sound of your breathy whimpers and the loud slurping squelches drowned out the steps coming down the hall or the kitchen door swinging open. Bokuto stood there for a moment with a small smile, admiring how pretty you looked like this, even if he wished it were him, but he couldn’t let the moment pass him by.

“Puppy,” he sighed. The first syllable was enough to make Hinata pop off of you and stumble back to turn around, eyes hazy and drunken of the taste of you. Ignoring the hardened look in Bokuto’s eyes, you pouted sweetly, spreading your legs a little more to let him see your soiled panties.

“Kōtar-”

“You’re being greedy, don’t you think, puppy? Going ahead without me like that.” He imitates you with a fake pout, the look never quite meeting his blazing eyes. You can feel what’s coming and make no more attempt to argue. Hinata is taking in the interaction, still halfway in his own daze. “She’s great, huh, Shōyō? Pretty little pussy and she makes the best noises, especially when she’s crying for your cock.”

Hinata swallows hard, absentmindedly palming over his pants where he’s quickly grown half-hard. “Yeah, she’s, yeah no, uh she’s really great. This is still okay?”

Both of you nod quickly, reassuring him, but you remain silent for now, trying to settle before you know what’s to come.

“Totally okay as long as you’re okay.” Bokuto drops the edge in his tone to carefully watch him for a moment, assessing.

“Completely.” He agrees with a dreamy sigh.

Nodding again, Bokuto approaches the two of you. Refusing to meet his eyes you stare just ahead at the door.

“Oh, don’t look so sad, puppy, you know you’ll get what you want in the end anyway.” He jabs as he scoops you over his shoulder and gives you a gentle pat on the back of your thighs. “Let’s at least go to the living room.”

You glance back at Hinata, mouthing a silent whoops, while Bokuto leads him around the corner. Bokuto plops into the corner of the couch, back propped up by the plush arm, and maneuvering your pliable body to sit comfortably in his lap with your back pulled up flush to his chest. You’re gently pushed forward so he can peel the dress off and unclasp your bra. He’s calm for now, at least on the outside, but you can feel his heart pounding through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Don’t need these anymore,” he hums, latching his fingers in the sides of your underwear and motioning for you to lift your hips to let him slide them off. Hooking his elbows under your knees, he pulls your thighs to your chest, high enough so that he can palm your breasts. Quietly whining, you turn your head away so you don’t have to look directly up at Hinata - not that he’d notice your face with the way your cunt was glistening under the low, soft lights of the room. “Shh,” he directs at you before glancing back up at Hinata, “go ahead, but don’t let her cum.”

With a warm grin he gets on his knees between Bokuto’s spread legs. You almost felt too exposed, all power taken from your hands, splayed open like this. Bokuto slots his chin against your shoulder and presses the softest kiss to your cheek in stark contrast to the way his rough hands are kneading and pinching your sensitive breasts.

Hinata eagerly gets back to it, lavishing your cunt with softer licks than before, making your hips shake as they seek out more friction. While your neediness grows so too does Bokuto’s grip on you.

“So pretty,” he coos, eyes glued to where Hinata was firmly pressed against you. Pride bloomed in his chest at the sight of his teammate sloppily eating out his favorite girl so enthusiastically, appreciating you so much as he should.

It’s impossible for him to not get rock hard with the way you’re grinding down into his lap and the crude, wet sounds and groans vibrating from the back of Hinata’s throat.

“Taste so good.” Hinata grumbles, pulling back and forcing his tense hips to stop rutting into the couch cushion. He feels himself making a mess in his pants, hoping that he isn’t leaking through to your nice furniture, but he can’t quite bring himself to stop either. Both Bokuto and you watch the string - you’re not sure whether it’s his spit or your own wetness - that stays connected between your slit and his puffy, glossy lips.

“Good...good job.” Bokuto sighs. You’re not sure if he’s praising you or Hinata, but you don’t have much time to think too hard about it before he releases your legs and wedges his hands under between himself and you to pull his straining cock from his pants. Mind buzzing, still a little hazy from the feeling of Hinata’s tongue, you grab out from him, pulling on the band of his pants. Truthfully, he’s not quite sure what you’re asking for but he does know how tight his balls are and how inviting your cunt looks.

Just as Bokuto is settling his cock between your ass, Hinata’s pants are slipped off, thrown to the ground. He dips his head down to take one of your breasts into his mouth, moaning around you and pressing in close so his tip catches against your clit. At your whiny cry and keening, Bokuto lets out a low, single chuckle. “Don’t let her have your cock, not all the way. You were being so greedy earlier puppy, I don’t think you deserve it yet.”

Hinata keeps his mouth firmly planted on your chest and reaches down to perfectly slip himself between the top of your folds, acutely aware of Bokuto’s heavy head just barely bumping against the base of his own cock. They’re both so thick and heavy as they rabidly hump against you, Bokuto maneuvering your body for you back and forth across both of them. Everything is warm and wet between Hinata’s mouth on your chest and Bokuto’s lips kissing down the side of your neck.

The tease of release that’s been creeping up on you for so long draws closer and closer. Hinata’s cock is catching so exactly on your swollen clit and Bokuto’s tip keeps threatening to slip past your entrance, slick dripping past your thighs.

“Gonna, ahg, cu-cum!” You manage out, hips already bouncing on their own accord against them.

“Go ahead.” Bokuto says with a shaky breath, squeezing you as tight as he could between his body and Hinata’s. One more roll of their hips has you crashing down, pleasure rolling through your body. All you can feel is warmth and overwhelming satisfaction as you twitch between their arms, creaming across their cocks. “Good girl, good girl…” you faintly hear Bokuto coo into your ear as you slump back against him.

The buzzing, quiet moment is quickly squashed as he hoists you out of his lap and onto all fours. He’s talking to Hinata and you know you should be listening, but your pussy is still throbbing and you’re trying to catch your breath.

“...okay, baby?” You catch the very end of his sentence and blink hard, desperate to refocus.

“W-wait, what? Sorry, I just-”

“It’s okay, puppy,” he rubs a soothing hand down your back, slowly bringing you back to reality. “Need a second?”

You shake your head, the last of the fog slipping away. Before you, you see Hinata, his rigid cock slicked up by you only a few inches from your face. “I’m okay now, can you just say that again?”

“‘Course,” he grins, teasing your entrance, “I said I’m going to take your pretty pussy from back here and Shōyō is going to use your mouth. If you want.”

Wiggling your hips back to meet his and craning your neck up to look at Hinata you give a deft nod.

“I do, I want that.” You sigh.

Trembling with excitement, already so riled up from feeling you cum against him, Hinata shuffles the last bit forward. He’s pretty and much thicker than you had imagined. The tight strain of scattered veins and his heavy balls tell you all you need to know about how pent up he obviously is. Reaching out with palms still a bit shaky, you helped to reel him in the rest of the way with welcoming, parted lips.

You wrapped your fingers tightly around where you couldn’t quite reach, sloppily taking more and more of him with each bob of your head. His salty precum meshed with what was leftover of your own mess, the taste making you moan around his length.

Bokuto was trying to move slower now, recognizing that you were easily slipping, but the way you rocked your body back and forth bumping against his sensitive, reddened tip, he couldn’t hold back much more. Digging his fingers into your hip, he eased the motions of your body, lining himself up, resisting from plowing into you at full force.

“Ready?” He asks, nearly whining. At the sound of his voice, you pull off from Hinata, letting your quickly tiring jaw grow slack.

“Uh-huh.” You barely heave out before wrapping your lips around him again. So sure you can take both at once and not falter, you ramp back up to your original pace, slobbering down his cock, the click of your quick motions echoing around your head. Unfortunately for your ego, you’re dead wrong.

Bokuto wastes no time drilling himself into you, setting a bruising pace straight from the beginning. It’s all you can do to loudly moan around Hinata’s cock, still stuffed in your mouth by the slight pistoning of his hips, the way Bokuto is ramming you forward only forcing him deeper down your throat.

As you gag, sputter, and moan down his length, drool dripping onto the already soiled cushions below, Hinata feels the pressure building and building in his core. Electricity tingles down his limbs, aided by the fucked out look in your pretty eyes. He doesn’t even have to move now with the way Bokuto is railing you against him. He wonders if you realize he’s close when you suck a little tight, cheeks hollowing as you take a little more of him, the hand that had been working his base coming down to lightly hold his swollen balls.

You don’t know. At this point, you’re moving on autopilot, simply trying your best. Your brain doesn’t know where to focus - Hinata filling out your mouth or Bokuto as he purposely alternates between hitting against your spongy spot and deep inside of you. It’s all a mess of spit, sweat, and cum, but you don’t think you’ve felt the rush of pleasure that comes with being used so well by more than one person.

Bokuto doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re clamping around, cunt fluttering each time his digs in a little deep or Hinata’s cock twitches against your tongue. He can tell by the scrunched up expression on his friend’s face that he can’t last much longer and he doesn’t blame him. Between fucking against your pussy and being wrapped up in your pretty mouth, no one really could. He’s determined to hold out though, a little spark of competition lighting up his chest. When Bokuto’s strokes suddenly slow you groan again, the vibrations dragging a stuttered moan from Hinata’s pretty lips.

“Gonna, hngh, uh gonna cum.” He sputters out, hips quivering as he tries to hold back from fucking too far back into your throat. At that, Bokuto’s hips speed up again, forcing a little whimpered cry, muffled by the cock in your mouth, from you. Still, you force yourself to focus on Hinata, sucking him dry as soon as the first spurt of cum hits the back of your throat.

He cums fast and hard and a lot. It’s seeping out from your lips, making him messier than he already was until he’s pulling his softening length from your mouth and flopping back against the couch, gently rubbing your arm while he catches his breath. With a heavy grin, Bokuto shoves a hand between your shoulder blades, knocking you into Hinata’s lap. Somewhat in vain, you try to clean him off between the pitchy mewls and cries that you breathe out while Bokuto chases his own release.

In no time, he’s there again, his own pressure built up as high as it could just before he burst inside of you. He fucks himself raw, your tight hole sucking him in, his cum only making it easier to slip in and out of you. Knowing he’ll finish when he’s completely spent, you lie limp in Hinata’s lap and he lazily wraps a hand around the back of your neck, soothing the leftover tension. You recognize Bokuto’s nearly done when his cock stops twitching and his hips slot against yours with some finality just before he slumps over you.

Whining when he slips out, even soft his cock is still a tight squeeze, you fall all the way against the couch, legs giving out at last. He falls back against the back, moving your legs to sit on top of his thighs and massaging them with great care. Completely spent and drifting half-asleep you just barely hear him.

“So,” he starts, head lolling toward Hinata who’s still lightly working his fingers against your upper back, “Dinner next week?”

#bokuto x reader #hinata x reader #bokuto smut #hinata smut #bokuto x you #hinata x you #hq smut #haikyu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo smut #bokuto kotaro smut #hq x reader

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thetoadghoul · 3 years ago

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Volunteering: (Ohtani x Reader) <333 (Part - 2)

part 1!

plot: Wednesday’s game arrives which Ohtani invited you to, some bonding time before the first pitch <3 slowwwburn, long cause idk details are fun lol

Wednesday quickly arrived, made much faster by the crazy amount of work you were required to do for your ‘actual’ job. The last three days had been spent with you running around the LA area, as well as cyberspace, to serve your role as interpreter. It was hell, for more reasons than one. The biggest of all being that even though you were not in Japan at the moment, you were still required to wear a proper suit. That meant a tight navy skirt, stockings, and some blasted heels. Sexist men, long meetings, and endless paperwork aside, you enjoyed your job for the most part - but this aspect really wore on you. However, the pain in your feet wouldn't damper your excitement for tonight’s game. Today you were not actually volunteering at the Angels stadium.

The day before yesterday, when you were actually volunteering, a bashful Ohtani had tapped you on the back while you were picking up baseballs from the batting cages. When you turned around the giant man was holding out a lanyard with an attached document, marked ‘VIP Guest of Player’. It took all you had not to let your hands shake with nerves as you reached out and grabbed it gingerly.

“Uh, see you on Wednesday.” The man looked to the side awkwardly, running a hand through his hair.

“...Yeah.” You responded with a small smile, feeling stupid, but it was all you could think of.

“Well, uh, I better go...” He motioned behind his back with a lazy thumb, staring to jog backward.

You nodded quickly, rushing to go back to picking up balls before you said something super lame, or weird.

It wasn’t till you were on the way home did you take a look at the back of the stadium pass. It read ‘Guest of Shohei Ohtani’. So he had put in the request for you, that was just like him, so kind. It would be an understatement to say you weren’t excited for tomorrow.

-----

Currently, your heart was still racing, but for another reason other than a certain super cute and insanely talented baseball player. It was because it was almost three-thirty in the afternoon and you were running around your company-provided apartment, trying to get ready as fast as you could. Ippei let you know you should get there around four-thirty, by then the team would have been done warming up and starting to enjoy a pregame meal while the away team got the field to themselves. From that point onwards, pretty much everyone was free to relax in the clubhouse till just before the first pitch.

With little time to consider, not even enough time to take a shower after having just got off work, you went with an oversized red T-shirt, baggy jeans, and some cool Jordan’s. This was your go-to, and it was comfortable. You don’t have many clothes anyway, living out of a suitcase.

Right as you were about to run out of the door you remembered to grab your standard Angels cap, it had been provided to you as part of your volunteer uniform a while back, slipping it on over your tight work bun. You would let your hair down later.

All right, everything was in order, Uber scheduled, lanyard secured.

It took about half an hour to arrive at the stadium, and once it came into view, you instructed the driver to let you out in front of the ballpark entrance. It had been a long time since you got to go through the gates as a member of the audience, it actually gave you a wave of nostalgia seeing everyone in their gear, so hyped up for the game, tailing gating outside for what was probably hours.

Once you were through, you started walking through the concession stands and various other stalls, dodging around the fans that were already inside watching the warm-ups, as well as hanging out drinking and eating. There were pictures of Ohtani everywhere, people taking turns snapping pictures of each other in front of the various cutouts of him. The air was buzzing with energy, and it seemed like all for that guy. Honestly, you had worked for a couple different teams over the years, but you had never seen hype like this. It was surreal, seeing a legend in the making.

You smiled, gripping the lanyard around your neck, making your way through the stadium. Shohei was super nice to do this for you, really, you should show him your support. Maybe a quick peek in the team store would do? Plus, you deserved to spend some money on yourself. After all, this was the first time you had really been ‘out’ in the almost three months you had been in California. Your free time was either working, volunteering, video games, or sleep.

You took a couple moments in the Angel's merch shop, quietly perusing the aisles, keeping an eye out for any Ohtani-themed items. Unfortunately, there weren’t really that many, probably sold out by the fans. What was there, was way too small for you.

“Y/n, you here to watch the game?” A young voice sounded.

When you turned to see who addressed you, a familiar girl was standing there grinning.

“Hey Jordan! I didn’t know you were working tonight.” You grinned back.

Jordan worked at the store as a stock manager, she was close in age to you so the two of you often hung out. You had invited her over a couple times, both bonding over your love for crappy reality TV, beer, and of course, baseball.

“Yeah it was last minute, a girl was feeling sick and there wasn’t anyone else cept’ me.” She sighed.

“Bummer, text me if you need help?” You offered, to which she waved you off.

“Nah, you enjoy being here and NOT working.” She chuckled, walking over to organize a messy shelf.

“So, you looking for something in particular?” The girl glanced over her shoulder.

“Uh yeah, you recommend any cool Ohtani stuff? Or is there any at all... seems wiped clean in here.” You said while looking around.

“Ohtani? You here to cheer him on too then. Wanna catch his eye.” She teased.

“Don’t say it like I’m just here for my like, prince charming.” You snapped back playfully, but, maybe a little too fast.

“Aren’t you?” She pressed with an eyebrow.

“Okay, I’m leaving.” You pouted, fake walking away.

“I’m just kidding, actually, stay here for a second I might have something you’ll like.” Jordan yelled as she jogged off to the back room behind the counters.

You did as you were told and when she came back there was a large white Angels jersey in her hands.

“Ta-da!” She grinned, twisting it around to show the player’s name on the back.

“Oh, it’s in Kanji? That’s cool, I didn’t know these existed?” You questioned, running your finger over the ‘tani’ character of Ohtani.

“It’s the last one on the floor, had to grab it off the mannequin. Hope it’s not too big? It’s XL?” She questioned, passing it to you to hold.

“Nah it’s perfect, can’t you tell.” You joked holding the jersey next to you, while you showed off your oversized clothes.

“Figured it'd be fine, wanna get rung up? I’ll give you that ‘good good’ employee discount. But, don’t tell anyone.” She smiled, heading to the register, to which you nodded and jogged after her.

After you finished your purchase and waved bye to Jordan, it was time to head to the clubhouse. It was around five, so you were later than you planned but Shohei usually practiced batting in the cages a little while longer while everyone headed in. Slipping the plastic shopping bag into your purse, and ripping the tags off your new jersey, you slipped it on over your T-shirt, smoothing out the material as best you could. It felt great to finally have some real merch from the team, and part of you sort of wondered what Ohtani would think when he saw you. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much to just show up in his gear after he pretty much randomly invited you, let alone in the stadium-specific one, as you just learned from your colleague.

After you got to an employee-only doorway, you pushed on it hoping it was actually open. Ippei had also let you know via text that it would be unlocked for you. Another kindness of Shohei, not just inviting you, but making sure you had access to all the catering and AC inside the resisted area of the building. You slipped in and locked the door behind you, not wanting to encourage some intoxicated fans to follow. The hallway was empty and cool as you started making your way to the clubhouse.

You were admittedly a bit nervous by the time you got to the doors, feeling a bit awkward about strutting in as anyone other than a volunteer for the first time. Carefully you pushed open the door, making sure not to hit anybody. The room was full of chatter, some players eating, some playing cards, others watching TV on the room's monitors. You looked around for Ohtani, but he wasn’t there yet apparently. No matter, you strolled in and went for the snack area. Truthfully you hadn’t eaten since that morning, and that was just a toasted bagel. Turning your back to the rest of the room, you began filling up your plate with cocktail shrimp and grapes.

“Nice jersey.” Ippei said, coming up next to you, grabbing small sandwiches for his plate.

“Is that sarcastic?” You questioned with a smile, finishing your plate.

“Nah, I’m sure he likes it.” Ippei jerked his head to the left.

He? You leaned back to see around the man, meeting Shohei’s surprised face almost immediately. Had he been standing there the whole time? He had obviously been staring at your back, at his name, bashfully looking up to your face when you moved, blinking a couple times to clear his eyes.

“I uh, got it ten minutes ago.” You grinned awkwardly, pointing your thumb proudly at the jersey, hoping he wouldn’t think you were a weirdo.

The large player didn’t say anything, blinking more slowly this time before opting to just nod gently, with a quick “thanks for your support”, hurriedly leaning forward to start filling his plate with all kinds of foods.

—-

Once everyone had their food the three of you found a place to sit while you ate, it was at the back of the room away from the noise, and where the two usually sat before a game anyways. A small conversation started while the three of you ate calmly.

“Why... do you only have grapes, and shrimp?” Ohtani questioned suddenly, looking at your plate baffled. You looked down at it as well, pausing for a moment trying to find out what was so weird about that.

“Uh, well, it’s because... these things are... super expensive in Tokyo. It’s like a rich person food to me.” You smiled, eating a couple shrimps happily.

“Wow. That’s so sad.” Ippei chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

Shohei on the other hand burst out laughing at your response, making you laugh a bit too at your pitiful confession.

“Seriously, I feel like a mega-rich, and very posh, Ginza lady right now - eating nothing but shrimp and fruit. So fancy right? ” You exclaimed, popping a grape in your mouth.

The Japanese player laughed even harder, tears building up as he wiped his eyes.

“Those people wouldn’t touch that stuff with a three-meter stick.” Ippei stated, letting out a small laugh.

“Just let me have my moment.” You pouted through a smile, shoving more shrimp in your mouth.

The other man calmed down finally and was now sitting there smiling while he ate.

“So, fancy y/n, are you okay to sit in the dugout tonight. Not too unrefined for you?” Ippei questioned with a smirk.

“That’s, allowed?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, if you want to. Can’t stay there the whole time, but.” The man responded nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s the best place to hear, ‘the surprise’.” Shohei added, food in the process of being shoved in his mouth.

“Well, doesn’t seem like there’s any other option.” You smiled at the player, who nodded in acknowledgment.

“He’s batting first tonight, you won’t have to wait long.” Ippei spoke, starting on the next sandwich.

“Hope me being in there won’t be bad luck.” You joked.

“You believe in that?” Ippei smirked.

“My family ingrained it into me, wasn’t allowed to watch a single super bowl game in the living room till I literally moved out.” You frowned, stabbing a grape.

“Harsh.” The man smirked with a small laugh under his breath.

“You will be good luck, for sure.” Shohei leaned forward in a hunch to take another bite of food, smiling sincerely at you as he looked up from his food.

“Then, I will see to it that will become a very good omen. Please believe in me.” You responded in the highest form of keigo you knew, bowing rigidly from your seat for comedic effect. Since you never studied that level of grammar, it was really freaking bad, causing the two men to laugh again.

“You’re funny.” Ippei chuckled.

“Yeah, and your Japanese is so good though?” Shohei exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes wide.

“Nah it’s pretty bad, I fell off the study wagon a long time ago.” You laughed awkwardly, waving a hand in front of your face.

“You’d be there forever if you stayed on.” Ippei chuckled again, while Shohei nodded in sullen agreement.

“Writing would be nice though, having to look up every other kanji at the doctor's office, or like city hall makes me literally sweat, like, a lot. Buckets. But when I look around, I'm the only one.” You giggled.

“You’re so honest.” Shohei chuckled, wiping his mouth with a napkin, still leaning forward in his chair, you grinned back at him. Your eyes locked for a while, you had never noticed, but his eyelashes were sort of long.

At that moment Ippei had to take a call, letting the two of you know he’d be back in a bit, walking off. The two of you looked away and finished eating in silence.

When you looked up from your empty plate, the large player was now staring at you with a soft expression. The warmth in his eyes made you blush, he didn’t even break his gaze once he was caught like he usually did. You responded back to him simply with a shy smile, before being the one to avert your own eyes to the floor again.

Thankfully at that moment, a group of Angels came over, slapping the Japanese man on the back, starting up a conversion. They were going over strategies for the game and overall just getting hyped up. You didn’t have much to input, so you just kind of sat there enjoying the excited chatter. Shohei smiled merrily the whole time, inserting little jokes, completely affected by their excitement. The way he carried himself really reminded you that the essence of baseball was really just about having fun with your teammates and giving it your all. He looked simply happy to be there, and it made you smile too, just watching him goof off. It was charming to see his duality of being a just big kid with endless laugher, versus the super-serious, and seasoned player he was on the mound.

You were really trying hard not to but, you were rapidly developing feelings for Shohei. The last three months of volunteering here, you of course thought he was really cute and kind, classic boyfriend material. A simple crush, like many of the girls working around him, surely had as well. However the possibility of you two actually dating had always been a foreign concept, one which stopped you from even considering it, at all, you just didn’t know if you even could. With you both traveling for work, how would there be time? Plus, what about the media? His family? Yours? All those things seemed unscalable walls, that is, until this moment, when you could feel his gentle eyes on you once again.

Maybe, there was something? Or maybe, he was just a super nice guy, and you were treated no different than anyone else.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Shohei was starting to stand up, grabbing everyone’s empties plates. He reached his hand towards you, asking for the one in your hand with a tiny nod of his head, to which you thanked him, stood up, and handed it over.

Well.

Either way, you were so screwed.

-------

Hope you enjoyed! <3

#大谷翔平 #ohtani shohei #shohei ohtani #ohtani shohei imagines #shohei ohtani imagines #ohtani imagines #ohtani x reader #ohtani #ohtani angels

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gingersnaaps · 4 years ago

Text

making things right

you and iwaizumi just aren't meant to be, and if he has to fuck some sense into your little brain for you to understand, then so be it.

wc: 2.8k

tags/tw's(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, blackmail, emotional manipulation, emotional sadism, dumbification, degradation, fem!reader with inner genitals, has something resembling an actual plot

a/n: i couldn't decide which way i wanted to go with the plot, so i just did both. read a darker version of this here

i don't want minors interacting with my content

Oikawa really doesn’t like how much time Iwaizumi has been spending around you lately.

It’s not that he’s jealous, of course - that kind of pettiness is far beneath him - it just doesn’t seem right. It’s not the natural order of things for someone as pretty as you, all soft skin and glowing smiles, to be practically draped around Iwaizumi all the fucking time.

He’s counted, you know, and today was the thirty-eighth time that you’ve visited their lunch table and somehow ended up on Iwaizumi’s lap.

And doesn’t he also have to think of his team? The Spring Interhigh’s coming up, and it wouldn’t do for one of the most important players on the team to be constantly distracted. He’s seen the way Iwaizumi looks at you: it’s adoration encapsulated in a gaze, the kind of tenderness and admiration that he’s only ever seen Iwaizumi direct at himself.

Oikawa’s going to have to fix this, isn’t he? He’s going to have to make everything the way it should be.

He finds that he enjoys the constant planning and brainstorming and especially the fantasizing far more than he’d anticipated.

Oikawa notes down which days you go home immediately after school, which days you stay, and the routes you take home. He writes down all your friends in a little notebook, familiarizes himself with the classes you take, and pays extra attention to your mood swings.

Of course, as he spends more and more time detailing every aspect of your life, it’s only natural for his thoughts to… wander. In class, he catches his own attention drifting away from Japanese literature to thoughts of what you’d look like strung out on his cock, eyes squeezing out tears as he stuffs you full and claims your pussy. He thinks about how slutty your skirt looks when you’re bending over, and about how much he’d like to rip it off of you. He likes to imagine how Iwaizumi would react, too - the way he’d cry and sob and finally understand that you don’t belong with someone like him.

He finds that these thoughts allow him to tolerate Iwaizumi’s presence near you a lot better, even though the two of you have only grown closer as of late. When you start getting particularly obnoxious with your flirting, he just has to picture you screaming in pain as he fucks you dry, or think about the bulge in your throat from his cock shoved deep inside your mouth. And when he sees Iwaizumi finally ask you out on a date to the ramen place nearby, he almost feels sorry for how short-lived, how temporary, your romance is going to be.

As the weeks go by and the Interhigh draws near, Oikawa thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of how to make it happen.

It starts off almost too easy.

Oikawa’s usually the one who stays late after practice, slamming his serves into the opposite end of the court until his vision goes dizzy and his arms turn numb. But Iwaizumi - bless his generosity - had planned on staying after to help a few of the first years out with their serves.

He waits at the school gates, scanning the entrance for any sign of you. You should be finishing up with your little club soon if the notes he’d been keeping were any indication, and sure enough, he spots your bright teal jacket scurrying towards the gates after just a few minutes.

Oikawa plasters on his friendliest smile, waving you towards him. “Hey,” he greets. “Iwa-chan told me to wait for you today. Do you want to come over? He’ll be along in just a minute - he’s just cleaning up the gym a bit.”

“Aren’t you the captain?” you tease. “So much for being responsible.”

He forces out a laugh. Do you realize how insufferable you are? Because you’re really not doing yourself any favors with the way you’re acting. But he pushes down the surge of anger that threatens to spill over, because he knows you’ll change your tune as soon as you arrive at his place.

He can’t wait.

The walk home is filled with empty banter, useless conversation that flits back and forth on the most boring of topics. To be honest, Oikawa appreciates this - it gives him the mental room to think about much more interesting things, like the way your breasts are pushing against the jacket, or the slight sheen of your lip gloss. Or, alternatively, the way your breasts would look spilling out of his hands, and the way your shiny lips would look smeared with spit and cum.

He places a hand on your waist as he guides you inside his house, but you stiffen. “Isn’t Hajime supposed to have caught up to us by now?” you ask.

Hajime.

First name basis, huh?

It’s a small detail, but it’s the kind of change that has him seeing red at the periphery of his vision, the kind that makes him want to ruin your slutty body until it's bruised and leaking cum. He’s been friends with Iwaizumi for twelve years. Twelve years, and all he’s gotten from him is a nickname. You’ve known him for barely a fucking year, and here you are, sauntering away with his first name.

His hand on your waist tightens, gripping and squeezing at your lovely flesh until he can feel you wince in pain. “I’m afraid it might be a while,” he says, voice brittle.

“What do you mean?” you ask, turning around, your eyes widening.

Oikawa shoves you inside and slams the door. “I mean,” he hisses. “That your precious Hajime won’t be coming around anytime soon.”

Panic rises in your throat, but he slaps a hand over your mouth quicker than you can scream. All that escapes is a strangled cry, weak and thin, one that quickly dies out in the entrance hall of his house. It’s much too quiet to reach any neighbors, you realize with a sinking feeling. The last bit of faint hope you harbor in the back of your mind dies when you realize that there’s no concerned housewife coming to check on the commotion, no fumbling child who might stumble in on you and Oikawa. You’re alone. You’re fucked.

He’d made sure of it.

“Bitches like you are so stupid, aren’t you? Making me spell everything out for you.” His voice drips condescension as he yanks you by the hair towards the bedroom. There’s no reason to put up an act anymore, he thinks, so he can be as rough as he wants with his new toy - he just has to make sure he returns you in one piece to Iwaizumi. Oikawa’s sure he won’t mind if you’re a little beat up around the edges, a little used by the end of this.

As he throws you down on the bed, the thought gives him immense satisfaction. You’d been so eager to do things with Iwaizumi - he’d coaxed out embarrassed confessions from his friend over late-night calls - so he’s almost sure that you’re a needy slut during sex.

Of course, you’re not nearly so eager now, not when he’s holding your squirming body down on the bed.

“You do realize that this is what you get, right? It’s your fault for being this fucking easy. Should’ve thought a bit harder about going home with me. Did your mommy and daddy never teach you to not trust men?” he says, face curling into a smile.

You’re unable to get a word out, mouth dry and cottony from the fear that pierces you. He watches your eyes flicker between the bulge in his pants and his face, uncertain and wary, like a deer caught in headlights. Oikawa can’t help the sick pleasure that bubbles up within him at the look on your face.

“Please,” you say hoarsely. “Please.”

“You have to use your words, you know. You could be begging me to stop, but I think you like this. I think you’re begging me to get on with it,” he says.

Maybe he’s taking it a step too far with the dramatics, but he can’t bring himself to tone it down - not when he’s right about to get to the good bit, and certainly not when he sees those pretty tears trickling down your face.

He looks you up and down appraisingly. He’d always thought you were rather pretty, with your soft halo of hair and your glittering smile - but he can’t deny that there’s a special sort of charm in the way you fidget uncomfortably under his gaze.

It makes him hungry.

As he spreads your thighs apart, all he can think about is how much he wants to claim you, to ruin you, because that’s what he imagines fucking you is like: ownership and victory spread on his tongue while your juices drench his cock. All the filthy dreams he’s had, every fantasy he’s gotten off to late at night, and the stifling heat spreading through his core is begging him to fuck you, to ravish your tight hole until the only name you know is his own.

He doesn’t really want to bother with prep. He’s sure that stretching you out on three - no, maybe four fingers until you scream would be fun, but you don’t deserve that kind of special treatment. Aren’t sluts like you supposed to be wet all the time anyway?

You can feel the outline of his dick dragging along your soft thighs, pressing close to your cunt, a breathy moan escaping his lips from the friction of his sweatpants grinding against your body. It’s not long before he pulls his cock out all the way and strokes it a few times. He grabs at your hips, maneuvering you like a rag doll, and fits the tip of his cock at your fluttering entrance. Nudging at your hole, he pushes in just the head of his cock - enough so you can feel the sting of his girth, but not nearly deep enough to offer any real relief.

You whine involuntarily, and a grin lights up his face. “You’re desperate, aren’t you?” he asks, dragging a thumb against your lips. “Is it because Iwa-chan doesn’t fuck you well enough? Is his pathetic dick too small to fill up that hole of yours properly?” he leers. “I’ve seen his cock before… mine’s bigger, you know.”

“Fuck you,” you mumble. You’re dizzy from the fear and panic that clouds your brain, but anger still seeps into your veins at his crude words.

Maybe if your head was a bit clearer, you would’ve realized that only stupid girls talk back.

Oikawa’s hips snap into yours harshly, his cock tearing at your insides, and you let out a strangled gasp. You’re not prepared for how well his cock stretches you out - it’s curved in all the right places, ramming into your cervix, brushing up against your tender g-spot - and as he ruthlessly pounds your frail body into the mattress, your mind blanks, overloaded with sensation. You can’t remember who you are, or why you’re getting fucked. The only thing on your mind is the raw feeling of being cunt split wide open, of having your insides rearranged until you’re a drooling, dumb mess.

“Fuck who?” he asks, shoving two fingers inside your sloppy mouth,

“F- fuck…” you whisper. His fingers are gripping at your hips so tightly you can feel the skin beginning to bruise, and there’s just too much to handle. He’s everywhere; his fingers probe around your mouth, making you gag, and his cock drags along your tender walls until you’re left quivering around his length.

He leans down to kiss at your forehead, his lips brushing tenderly against your hair. “You can do it, baby,” he encourages, cooing at you. “You can say it.”

“Fuck me,” you whimper quietly, cheeks burning with shame.

“Good girl,” he says, voice sickly sweet. “I knew you could do it for me.”

Fucking you feels so much better once you’re compliant, he thinks. He slows down a bit, savoring the sensation of your cunt twitching uselessly while you writhe on the bed in pleasure. He feels a sharp jolt of arousal as he looks at the marks he’s left all over you, admiring how the angry bruises on your hips and waist are beginning to purple.

You tug at his shirt, sniffling and crying. “Please,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re asking for anymore, not even sure whether you want Oikawa to stop or continue, but you can’t handle the way he’s slowly fucking you senseless.

He raises an eyebrow. “You want it faster?” he asks cruelly, bouncing you into his cock. There’s no response on your end, but Oikawa thinks he’ll take that as a yes. And if that’s what you want?

Well, that’s what you get.

The hum of pleasure in your core intensifies as he picks up speed again. This time, he angles his cock until it grinds down harshly on your sensitive spot, leaving your legs limp and body helpless as your cunt tightens like a vice. As you shudder from the orgasm that washes over you, he spills into your pussy until your hole is leaking white down your thighs.

You can feel him laughing softly as he pulls out and climbs to rest beside you, leaving you stuck in a pool of your own sweat and cum and. He wipes the remaining cum off of his cock, smearing it on your face, but you barely react. You feel so dirty, so tainted and violated, but you’re not sure you could move even if you tried - his cock has left you boneless and made sure that every square inch of your body is sore and aching.

“Well,” he says, breathless. “Better run home unless you want Iwa-chan to know you’ve been all used up.”

Hajime? Your eyes widen, welling up with tears.

Oikawa unlocks the phone in his hand and presses play.

The sounds that echo through the empty room make you feel like screaming, because there’s no denying the solid, tangible proof that’s being played back. Your breathy moans are clear as day, and it’s unmistakable when you hear yourself begging Oikawa to fuck you harder, faster, to split you apart on his cock.

With a sinking feeling, you know there’s no explanation that would ever satisfy Hajime if he heard this audio. You can already see the pain in his eyes if he were to find out that his best friend for the past twelve years had ruined you, fucked you so thouroughly that you could barely tell the difference between pain and pleasure.

You don’t want that, you realize miserably. You can’t have that.

“I’m not going to send it,” he says. He sees hope creep into your expression, as if you’re almost daring to believe that you could go back to your normal life after this little session, but he doesn’t feel any pity for you when he speaks again.

“Not if you stay away.”

You and Hajime don’t belong together anyway, so why would he be sorry?

Your eyes drop as you inhale shakily. Oikawa watches you fumble around for your clothing, entertained by the way you trip and stumble as your weak legs attempt to hold you upright. It makes for an awkward, ugly image - but he can’t deny the warm thrill of satisfaction that runs up his spine as you slink out of his bedroom.

He’s finally making things right.

When you go to school the next day, you’re glad that you don’t have any classes with Hajime for the first time ever. It makes it easier to avoid him, and you purposely choose to sit as far away as possible from their table in the lunchroom. You don’t bother responding to his messages either, every single text of his sending a bitter jolt of pain through you, and you eventually block his number.

Weeks later, you’re not sure he’d believe you even if you were to explain everything. What would you even say? That you’d been ignoring him and ghosting him because his best friend of twelve years had raped and blackmailed you? That someone he knows and trusts was capable of devastating violence? Oikawa and him seem closer than ever, and you start to wonder at your own stupidity. To think that you could ever get in between a bond as close as theirs - maybe Oikawa was right all along.

You’re walking home alone one day, the hazy late-day sun bathing the roads in a shimmering heat, when you hear footsteps and a voice behind you. Your heart hammers unsteadily, getting ready to run, when you hear three words that make your stomach drop.

“I’ve missed you.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #yandere haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #yandere oikawa x reader #haikyuu #yandere x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #yandere #hq x reader #hq yandere #iwaizumi x reader #tw.noncon #tw.blackmail #tw.manipulation #lin.n*fw #tw.dc

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