#its illegal for him to be so hot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 4 months ago

Text

ʚ FINISH INSIDE HER ?! ɞ

ᡴꪫ sum. what the hell is a full nelson? no worries, luckily underground boxer toji shows you a hands-on demonstration. although, you want choso to try it with you too. not only are you a slut visual learner, but you also think you can take them both - not in a fight though.

wc. 5.8k

warnings. fem! reader, boxer! au, boxers toji & choso, 3sum, choso walks in on you and toji, unprotected, full nelson, manhandling, brief ōral (f + m), quickie, size diff, finger sucking, praise, dirty talk, choking, they fight over you, whiny choso, squırting, impact play, slight nıpple play, premature ejac, spıt.

an. kind of based on this ask!

“upsie daisey, uh huh. biiiiig fuckin’ stretch,” your mouth drops open once your thighs gets sprawled apart. your back slumps back against the fighter — toji, you’ve been training with him for a while. not only were you training with him but you’ve also been a bit of a fan. you mentioned to him on how you wanted to strengthen your ‘flexibility’ a bit more and of course, he had just the right thing to help you. out of curiosity, you asked him about a certain position you watched him perform on his rival, choso kamo. full nelson, it was considered illegal in some rings if not all. toji would always perform a specific choking move where he’d pin choso down with ease, burly buff arms putting him in a head lock - preventing him from moving a single inch. the entire crowd always goes wild at it every single time—so you wanted to try it out for yourself. “easy, easy. don’t tap out on me jus’ yet, okay? y’er a big girl.”

bobbling your head to give him a nod, an airy breeze shoves you back into his chest. the stretchy fabric of his boxing shorts tickle against your skin upon impact. “o- okay,” you breathe, gasping once he hooks two big arms underneath the undersides of your thighs. he’s got such a good taut grip that seconds later, you felt yourself throb a bit at the feverish, hot friction. “you’re not really gonna, heh, choke me out right?”

“not unless y’er into that, princess,” he jibes, a throaty husk of a chuckle leaving out of him. and as you’re spread all out, limbs extended—yeah,

you were probably fucked.

after what seems like hours of meaningless stretches and exercises to prepare your limbs, toji’s finally got you in the position — you were sprawled right in his lap, being in a safe firm chokehold.

his voice was roughly gruff, and as he spreads your legs just a bit further, you feel the cottony bandage that wraps around his arm ghost up against your thigh. his touch was gentle and you intake a sharp breath, further continuing to lean into his touch - his grasp. “mhm, seems like y’er a bit more flexible than i thought. this comfy?”

“no,” you let off a sheepish snort, starting to feel a brief pang on your thighs from the position. to be fair — not only was full nelson uncomfortable but it was dangerous. just one wrong move and snap. but toji was a professional, he’d make sure you’d keep all your pretty little limbs in tact. probably. clearing your throat, your eyes scan around a plethora of trophies and plaques he’s won throughout his career. “but um, have you ever tried this position with no clothes on?”

toji grows quiet, allowing you to lie back on his chest. black curly strands of chest hair fondle against your skin before he murmurs gruffly into your ear. “maybe.”

the growing bulge that hid underneath his boxers had you almost feral. you felt its presence—how it was just there, poking right against your shorts.

you prepare for yet another sharp drawn out breath, taking in his loud axe cologne that wafts through the entire studio. “can we try nude?”

and that was probably dumb to ask.

it was very dumb to ask.

your lewd filthy thoughts loved to make themselves known out of your lips at the worst times. your heart raced the moment you blurted that out, feeling the tips of your ears burn a scorching temperature. he’d say no, you were almost sure of it. you were just a dumb fan who managed to be a favorite, surely he wouldn’t—

“why the hell not,” he snickers, sliding his hands toward the smooth curvature of your hips. “i’ll go easy on ya for today. let’s get rid of these,” he pulls on the string of your panties, already discarding your shorts with such quickness. “i’ll try not ‘ta break you too bad.”

but that was a lie—

not only did he break you but he stretched you out in all the ways possible.

you had the most dumbest expression, tongue lolled out, legs spread, gushing all over the velvet red boxing mat - time and time again.

pink luminescent lighting shine back against the centers of your irises as you stare up at the ceiling’s lights. you’ve never felt so weak. spit slick lips of yours were all swollen and numb from being chewed on constantly like candy. within minutes, your knees were already surrendering, bucking at his very mercy.

“fuck, tooooji.” you’d drag out his name in cute elongated syllables.

the infamous elastic stretch of his cock has you writhe and spasm all over his lap. ludicrously, your voice bounces across the cheap walls of the building. nevertheless, you can’t lie to yourself, you’ve rubbed a few out at the thought of having this moment with your favorite boxer.

unprofessional, maybe. but he didn’t care and neither did you. besides, he was helping you with your flexibility after all. even if it was a bit more intimate than most regular methods.

your heart races, thumping out quick hurried beats as he’s shoving his cock in and out of you. you’re in such a submissive position that you were just a bobble head, a doll. he treated you like one — using your body, bouncing you up and down and manhandling you all over the mat.

he gruffly cackles behind the plushy shell of your ear, watching right before his eyes as you’re jouncing on his dick. your skin was so warm, so hot, the recoil stings for a few seconds before your ass ricochets off his sharp pelvis.

the smacks and paps only grew louder, and so did your sweet melodic moans and whimpers.

a creamy pearl of a ring coats around his base and he grunts, still having a beefy arm around your neck. his muscles flex and you fight the urge to bite his bicep. “easy, good girl. lean right into me. y’er a natural.”

his words went straight to your cunt. toji was a dirty talker, never a sweet talker.

he knew how to get you wet, whether it was with his slick mouth, his tongue, or even his cock. his voice was always so low, timbre and all. the husk that it carried never failed to make you soaked. embarrassing,

oh, it definitely was embarrassing.

he’s got a free hand gripping onto your thigh, kissing your ass with his palm - rough rude spanks.

the cute flinches of your rear bouncing back against his lap makes him slide a tongue over his lips, including sliding over that notorious scar that slides down the right side of his mouth. “fuck, so fuckin’ sloppy. got the mat all soaked. should make ya lick it up, huh.”

you couldn’t even reply . . you tried, but babbles of inaudible squeaks came out instead.

it just felt too good, he felt too good.

you’re panting heavily, the repetitive pop song that blared through the boxing ring’s broken speakers gets stuck in your head. you hear the moist wails of your pussy squelching time and time again, entirely soaking yourself with your own beloved filth. a free hand of toji’s creeps its way in front of you. hand so big that he could easily cover it over your entire face if he could.

with glossy half-lidded eyes, you stare at his palm, feeling your mouth water.

thick long fingers, he knew what he was doing.

toji’s just casually waving his hand around in your face in a slow mesmerizing motion as you bounced on his cock. they were so lengthy and thick, his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrist to the edge of his arm, you saw the veins poking out. he was so built that you couldn’t help but stare, couldn’t help but drool. “what a sloppy little girl. i could really snap you in half, heh,” he huffs, clenched abs pressing against your back. it’s hard, rock hard . . they feel like bricks.

you knew underground boxers like toji had to keep up a strict workout routine but damn.

“but you’d like that, huh,” he murmurs, bringing another smack to your slick wet folds. you moan at the stretch of your limbs, craving for more of his rude spanks against your swollen cunt. you throbbed from not only his words but his touch too, and the thought of him literally breaking you had you a bit more soaked than you thought it would.

this was a workout of its own - rutting your weight up and down against him. he’s got a secure hold on your body, holding your thighs up in place.

you were stupid, not even acknowledging that you’d already grab ahold of his wrist, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you moan the second the dry bandaged digits delve past your lips and makings way down your throat. as your ass steadily rocks against him in sloppy rhythm, you feel the very tips of his fingers prod against your puny uvula. you almost gag at the unexpected feeling—a cobwebby trail of saliva that was translucent pours down the side of your parted lips.

“no manners, tch,” he scoffs and his ripped abs continue to brush up against your back. “sloppy baby. got some nerve showin’ up to train being this fuckin’ nasty ‘n soaked.”

the hot skin against skin contact rubbing off against each other had your panties in a bunch, despite them already being technically pulled to the side and abandoned.

you were already still sensitive, swollen achy cunt sobbing out its own pleas of pleasure.

haphazardly, your knees buckle and he snatches his fingers out of your mouth. he does this solely to get a taste himself, swirling his pink pointed tongue against his slippery digits all thanks to you. “startin’ ‘ta think you came here for more than to just get an autograph ‘n work out with me, pretty girl.”

and as the plump crown of his cock molds you a tiny brief bulge from just his size alone — it repeatedly thrashes up against your sweetest spot. you shudder, about to collapse backward before you hear the jingling bells of the front door sound off.

“h- hey, toji man. did i leave my . . gloves . . ?”

choso, toji’s rival and regular training partner stares at the erotic scene and his face twists.

“oh,” and he’s flustered right away.

you stop bouncing and your eyes widen as big as saucers—yet, you weren’t even embarrassed. you were in awe, you knew all about choso kamo.

the choso kamo, anyone would be crazy not too. he was the most recent up and coming boxer, and after beating toji with a brutal close score of 58-57.

as you’re reclined back against toji—you finally get a good look at the other dark haired boxer.

he was slim yet also well built, choso was known for fighting opponents with his iconic ponytails but as of currently - he started to wear his hair down. sometimes he’d pin it up, a bit of a wolf cut that flew down his broad shoulders.

as his bashful gaze met yours, he grew nervous. very nervous.

black sable hued shorts cling onto his hips whilst he was shirtless, a few past battle scars painting the entire canvas of his perfectly chiseled body. “am i . . interrupting something?”

“nah. c’mere, ‘cho,” a husky voice calls out and he pauses in his tracks. the air suddenly clouded its way with imaginary thick smoke of lust and tension. it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

he swallows—dragging his bare feet across the crimson red mat toward you both, ducking underneath the stretchy multicolored bars before gawking at you. he was far pretty up close once he entered the practice ring, he runs a hand behind his neck before averting his eyes away from your nude body out of respect.

“he’s always been kinda shy,” toji purrs to you, still buried deep into your cunt. you shiver, every movement he makes makes—even just sitting up makes you let off a soft noise. you chew the inside of your cheek, feeling a stickiness stick between your thighs. dark green eyes flicker at choso and he hums, tilting his head. “choso, you know how to do full nelson too, yeah?”

“y- yeah, of course i do why?”

“you’re avoiding eye contact again.”

choso gulps - burying his hands into the burrows of his shorts pockets. a sheet of sweat marinates across his forehead before he glances at toji, rephrasing. “eh, yeah i know how to do full nelson. why?”

“because,” toji smacks his lips, a hand prying its way between the valley of your legs. you moan, still feeling full from tepid hot dumps of his cum practically oozing out of your puffy slit. “we’ve got a new opponent ‘n she wants to experience what it’s really like on the ring.”

“toji, we do full nelson all the time,” choso timidly runs a bundle of fingers through his buzzed undercut, a timid smile curling against his lips. “we never usually do it um . . naked though.”

the boxer underneath you deadpans. he could be so dense, choso stands still before a small gasp wrenches out of his pink glossed lips.

“oh.. oh,” and his face turns into a flustered tint.

you’ve watched a bit of his interviews and it seemed not only was he shy with the press but he was also very shy in person. it was cute, regardless.

as you’re busy being trapped up in your own thoughts, choso can’t help but peek down toward your legs. you were all exposed and being stretched out by his rival. he sucks his teeth in longing, briefly staring away before feeling himself grow a bit . . aroused. “i feel disrespectful for looking, ‘m sorry.”

“no, it’s okay,” you murmur in coy reassurance, and a hand tugs onto his wrist. choso’s breath hitches at your touch, and you felt his dark eyes flicker back toward you. there’s this look in choso’s eyes, it’s mainly lust-driven. his pupils were blown and his heart raced, you looked so pretty. it’s not like he didn’t exactly not know you. he’d see you every so often when you were ‘training’ with toji. not only that but he’d spot you attending almost every boxing match. always in the front row with a vip lanyard. secretly, you were more of a choso fan but toji didn’t have to know that. “do you wanna touch me too?”

“yes,” he blurts out almost right away and his face flushes a deeper shade. a rumble from toji shakes his shoulders - he’s chuckling, and you feel a big arm wrap around your torso. you bite down on your lip, still feeling yourself sit in a creamy puddle of filth, warm cum still plugged into you. choso starts to pant, watching you slither a hand between your thighs, spreading your soppy pussy lips. “i mean.. oh, that’s..” and he’s barely able to think straight, watching as you toy with yourself whilst still being full of toji’s thickset cock. his head starts to spin before he inches closer, kneeling down after your cute hand gestures to come here. “a- are you sure you want me to—”

“it’s okay, go ahead.” you hum, guiding his wrist.

“choso, she’s not gonna bite ya,” toji snickers, bringing your legs back down. as of now — you were currently straddling him with your back facing his chest. choso rubs his neck once more, growing sheepish yet again. it’s adorable, but again, he’s seen you at his matches and face offs. choso being choso though was far too shy to say anything or thank you for your support. but now, maybe he could thank you in another way. toji crosses his arms, cocking his head as he glances at the scene. “atta boy.”

a scowl forms on the timid boxer as his fingers resume to brush up against your drooling cunt. “s- shut up, toji,” and you let off a moan at his gentle strokes. you continue to lie back against toji - staring at choso, ogles as two plump fingers of his partner’s play up and down against your soddened entrance. choso’s mouth starts to water the more he stares, admiring how full you were—you had a few remnants of toji’s cum oozing from your slit and he swipes it up, bedaubing it against your pussy to make it sheeny again. “f- fuck, you’re so pretty.”

“you can t- touch me more, choso,” you lightly pause his hand by grabbing his wrist. his eyes meet yours and he felt the tent in his boxers tighten. oh, he was already whipped from the sound of your voice. with half lidded smoky eyes, he huffs out a single breath before glancing at your lips. you climb off of toji and a brief pop exits your cunt - dragging choso closer. “are you hard, choso?”

“he’s definitely hard,” toji tchs, averting his jade green eyes toward his partner’s shorts. it was hard to not notice the presentable bulge that’s sticking right in front of his leather everlast brand shorts. “cute.”

“shut up man,” he repeats with a glowering scowl.

with a cute dramatic sigh, choso grumbles something under his breath - trying to pay more attention back toward you. he leans into your touch, closing the gap between your legs until he’s right between you. choso presses a chaste kiss against your collarbone before moaning into your tender skin. he couldn’t help but suck against your shoulder for a few seconds, relishing in your candied flavor.

you were so sweet - bandaged hands roam everywhere on your displayed body before he exhales deeply, staring at you with almost heart shaped pupils. “you . . wanna try full nelson with me too, princess?”

throwing your arms over him, you hum with a subtle nod. “yeah, ‘s okay. i can handle it.”

famous last words,

with choso . . he stretched you all the way out, probably even more than toji.

his cock was just as thick, maybe even more. his fat reddened tip swelters the inside of your sopping pussy so good until you’re whimpering his name on constant loop. it’s like a mantra, you’re so dumb that it’s like his five lettered name was the only thing your brain could comprehend to say.

he’s got you upright in the same exact position before, slinging two beefy arms underneath your thighs as your weight bounces and defies gravity.

“fuck, fuck,” he whines, the addictive squeeze your cunt had never failed to make itself known. he reached any and every area so deep. choso had a delicious curve to his cock that sent you straight butterflies. it expands through your walls, french kissing your insides until you whine. his base was repeatedly getting smacked from your ass, each ‘n every time you jerked up from his lap. “y- you’re so good. so warm, ‘m gonna pass out.”

“aren’t you the boxer though?” you try to tease, but your cheeky voice falters the second his slitted tip kisses against that spot.

your vision was merely blurry, seeing nothing but a kaleidoscope of stars. in almost defeat, your head falls back against his chest and toji watches the entire time, buff arms crossed and an amused cunning expression. seeing you milk his rival was something he didn’t know would turn him on so much.

choso doesn’t reply to your little jest, still pumping such fat inches inside of your gripping walls. he’s already dumb, knocked out cold with a solid punch - not necessarily from an opponent, but your pussy. “hang onto me, ‘kay? this position requires lots of um . . s- stamina.”

as you nod, your entire body dangles and bobs from the movement — parching hot friction gluing against each jolting limb before you spasm.

“chosoooo,” and your thighs collapse, coming to its pleasurable demise. his thrusts were sloppy, the squelches of your own body was so lewd. you heard it through and through, glancing down to see yourself flutter and clench around his cock. “fuck, fuck ‘m gonna get close again.”

“wait,” a gruff voice murmurs and you glance up to see toji standing over you. he cups your chin, a thumb caressing your quivering bottom lip. “such a empty mouth. hm, open for me, pretty. think you could use some throat training too.”

as choso’s still plummeting his cock into your swollen cunt - stretching you out dexterously, you part your lips open.

by your surprise, toji’s lips meets yours and he pulls you into a deep kiss. it’s a bit of a rushing kiss, sloppy and strings of saliva tangling between each mouths. you moan, feeling the weight of your breasts bounce as you’re making haste on the other boxer’s lap. fuck, you were quite literally living the dream. you whimper, feeling his broad hands grab against your tits, using thumbs to push squeeze pressure against your perky nipples. he was always so handsy, allowing his hands to wander everywhere and yanking against the remaining pathetic pieces of fabric that covered your body.

you were still layered . . partially,

his rough scarred hands slide underneath your blouse as he’s continuing to make out with you, curling his parted tongue beside your own before it turns into obscene sucking. your own tongue occasionally scrapes against his scar that located directly near the right side of his mouth - it tickles a bit—however, you whimper once choso’s dick created its own little kisses against your g-spot.

abruptly, toji who was just claiming your mouth a few seconds ago pulls away from the continued kiss to grip underneath your chin again. “ah, say ah,” and he hums at your obedience, staring at your pretty pink tongue rolling out of your mouth flat. “good, ‘m gonna train this throat a little bit for ya, sweets. that alright?”

“o- okay,” and you’re briefly cut off once he springs out his cock again, thwacking his pink pearly tip against your tongue. he lets off a gruff satisfied grunt, feeling himself harden up once you flick your tongue against his slit. you’re slow, making sure to savor his taste. he watches, smacking his lips and his left brow curls.

toji bites his lip, his abs curlings as he watches you try to suck him of fully — he smacks his cock all against your face softly, watching your needy pout before humming. “such a needy cock hungry slut,” and a thumb swipes against your lip, preparing to insert his hardened shaft down your throat. “aw, you want more, do ya?”

you nod before moaning, feeling choso kiss down your neck, yearning for your attention.

“y- you’re doing so good,” choso whines against your ear, clinging onto your jerking body. “ngh, don’t listen to toji. he’s just mean.”

toji rolls his eyes. he’d reply with a sassy remark but he was still feeling the after effects of sensitivity. his muscles were all tense and spasming from you just bouncing on him just a few minutes ago. you’re just grinding onto choso, feeling your hips ridiculously buckle and snap before he smears his cockhead against your lips like it was lipstick. his plump tip goes against your wet lips, only for him to smack it against your clean pink tongue. “mmph.” you lashes flutter, ogling as he buries a few fingers into your scalp for a good grip. toji grunts, briefly tossing his head back in rapture. his scent grows stronger as he gradually starts to sink his way into your mouth.

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum. i can’t last,” choso babbles, facial expressions scrunching up the more you quicken your tempo on his lap. toji glances at choso who’s melting right underneath you — he’s got you in a secure hold, but it’s lazy.

one of his arms sling around your torso, another holding onto your thigh. “fuck,” he sucks against your neck, feeling the stretch increase. your walls were his own worst enemy, preparing to milk him for all of his worth. everything felt hot, his throat felt dry and he’s starting to shake right underneath you. “gonna cum, gonna c- cum.”

“not yet, ‘cho,” he grunts, watching as you lean in, adjusting your throat to his heavy size. your tongue swirls around the peeling slit and he huffs, a single hand tightening its hold against the roots that stick onto your scalp. “mhm, look at me. don’t worry about him, he’s just a crybaby,” and you can hear choso let off a scoff from behind you. toji’s sensitive cock was still dribbling a bit with a concoction of your previous juices and he groans at the image of you lapping it right up. “c’mon, little deeper. i wanna feel that slutty roof.”

whilst you’re having your mouth and cunt filled entirely—choso’s whining pitches louder and louder. so loud that it reverbs all throughout the thin walls of the empty boxing arena. thankfully, there wasn’t anyone here and it was usually closed on saturdays. he didn’t like be edged, he hated it.

but it felt good,

so fucking good.

especially due to the fact that he was so close to you, hearing your sweet whimpers follow in sync with his.

your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all.

every frantic spasm - you felt it, not to mention the few lightning type veins that run down the upward curve of his cock, you felt that too.

you rocked against him until your knees were at its last. he’s still holding you up but even he was about to tap out. choso had stamina - but he was no match for his rival, toji.

with murky low eyes—toji’s staring dead at you, bobbling your head and merely shoving you down just a little deeper.

you get sloppy, a puddle of drool trickling down the corners of your chin and down the valley of your chest before his tip hits against the roof of your mouth again.

it’s a rough rude hit and his cock gives the very back of your throat its own few jabs. a combo if you will — yet it’s more raunchy instead of sportsmanlike.

“eyes on me baby. yeah, yeah,” toji turns your head a bit, locking onto your sweet gaze. “get it wet, clean it up for me. make me just as much of a mess as you, girl.”

his words were so low - an almost growl. you were too focused on toji that you concisely forgot about the other boxer that’s sat underneath you.

choso came and it was so sudden—he couldn’t hold it anymore.

his grip weakens and he slouched back against the ring, spurts of hot cum pouring into you deep. he’s trembling, feeling a wave crash down on him as he’s succumbing to his high. choso can’t help but try to mimic toji, swatting the palm of his hand softly against your ass. even his spanks were respectful.

the worn out boxer pants, letting off an adorable finish. his vocals were quite loud despite having a deep bellow. “baby oh, fuuuck,” he mewls out, dark brows coming together. choso was about to lose it even more at the feeling your swiveling hips throwing itself around in a circle just because. toji watches the entire thing, how you were teasing his partner whilst having your mouth all stuffed full. as he’s stood tall before you both, his abs clench and you get a face view of it all. perfectly incised along the edges, you saw a few marks and scars coat against his skin and it’s never been more attractive. choso on the other hand found his hands grabbing onto your tits, gently brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipples before nuzzling into your neck. he was definitely pussy drunk — you could hear it. “babyyy,” a soft voice whines pussy drunkly against the lobe of your ear, and you depart your lips away from toji’s cock. he groans, viewing you lie back before you start to twitch out a bit yourself.

not only was choso close but so were you. as your legs were all stuck up in the air in its ideal position, you dramatically gasp once you feel it.

there’s a tugging pile of pressure that presses down on your tummy. your jaw drops—dangles and everything as you’re being pushed further toward the edge. your arousal steadily builds up until it finally comes.

just seconds apart from choso, you pant - a brief pang of electric shock ascending down right through you. you were speechless for a moment.

there’s nothing but a white noise blaring through each of your ears. it feels like an unpredictable wave, a powerful wave that ripples right through your entire body. it took you a long time to realize you were finishing - not only finishing but you were squirting.

“ohmygodddd,” you whimper out, feeling your legs vigorously shake. you gush out right onto the mat. feeling yourself grow hot — you’re even hotter because of choso’s body underneath you.

effortlessly, bodies stick against each other, snuggling in filthy warmth. as you’re leisurely coming to a halting stop of your rhythmic hips, choso’s cock remained tuck inside of you and you catch your breath, head cutely flopping back against his bare chest.

“did . . did you just squirt on me?” choso whimpers, a tremor in his voice.

his voice, it grew a bit raspier. although, you could still hear the softness lingering underneath it.

toji leans in toward you both, spreading your legs open just a bit more - he strums a calloused thumb down your opening, peering as you’re still fluttering out of arousal and was still sopping wet all the way from your needy clit.

“she fuckin’ did,” he coos, and he leans down, getting right on his knees.

you watch with low hooded eyes, still feeling surges of nirvana and euphoria overtake your body. toji purrs in contentment, wide open palms slapping against the foamy ring mat before sticking out his lengthy rosy tongue. you’re catching irregular heavy breaths right along with choso, full lungs preparing to collapse and give out before you pulse.

the moment toji drags his long tongue over the dampened spot of where you just made a mess—you felt yourself throb yet again.

so nasty, he had no shame at all. choso watched too, and he felt the exact same way as you did.

“what a mess,” and with another throaty chuckle leaving his lips, he cleans the mat off entirely before going between your legs. you moan, his palm gifting your cunt with a single abrupt spank. you’re so drenched that a few spurts of your slick coat onto his hand. toji stares at it, scoffing. “pussy tryin’ to talk back i see,” and he rubs his hand in a circular rotation against your cunt, maneuvering all kinds of shapes with his palm. you whimper, grabbing onto choso’s wrist. in awe, toji watches as dumps of cum ooze out of your opening and he even licks that up too, sticky black hair all unkempt and gluing against his forehead. the thin black bangs that run down his brows gives him a more alluring look and he hums, darkened eyes meeting his partner’s. “choso. don’t be a zombie. c’meree.”

you were definitely fucked—

being laid out, defeated and just stupidly stupid.

your legs sprawl outward as they’re both right between them. taking turns, flicking tongues of each against your swollen cunt. they took fighting over you to an entire new level. as they were drinking you dry — you couldn’t help but imagine the lewd thought of taking them both at the same time. you’d probably get crushed, you could barely even handle one as is, but two? that’d be an actual knockout for real.

as you’re still in a trancing daze, you watch both of the boxers with wide rounded eyes, grabbing both of them by the hair. there’s choso who’s really sweet and gentle, giving your pussy soft kitten kisses, softly brushing a thumb down your slit.

and then there’s toji . .

the clit biter - opposite of choso being the clit kisser, he doesn’t care.

with ravened brows furrowing up, he’s so rude to your pussy. every few seconds, he’d tenderly nibble against your pulsating nub, knowing that you’re sensitive there. with a smug grin, he shifts his eyes at you to stare at you dead in the face whilst he’s right between your legs. he’s messy too, moving his head from side to side, his scar swipes against your cunt every now and then.

not only was he messy but he was a hogger. he slurps you clean, luxuriating the tasteless flavor on his tongue before he hears choso cutely huff out in frustration.

“toji, you’re hogging her. ‘s no fair,” he grunts, dark eyes catching a glimpse at him from his hazy peripherals.

“cry ‘bout it,” and he spits on your cunt, hooked bump of his nose rubbing all against your slit.

already - toji’s chin was drenched, and so was choso’s. they both match with a slick of your sheeny arousal dripping down their perfectly chiseled chins. about a good hour had probably passed — then again, you were too dumb to acknowledge the time. all you knew was that you were soaked. you whimper, being nothing but a stiff shivering mess as they devoured you whole.

the numbness in your legs had your back rising up in ecstasy. you wanted more. sloshing slick tongues thrash and glissade against each other before they eventually . . tangle.

toji groans, accidentally meeting with choso’s lips and its brief. his eyelashes open and he has a sly smile at his rival. you watch the entire thing, the timid boxer versus the smug one. toji’s hand still remains on your folds and he’s multitasking, seductively licking choso’s bottom lip - still locking his gaze on him. he’s starting to taking his attention off of you. “hm, don’t tell me you wanted attention from me ‘n not her this entire time, ‘cho.”

a lump gets caught in his throat. choso grows flustered, hearing his own pulse shoot out through his ears as his lips made contact against his rival. “i—”

he’s hard, flaccid still, but definitely hard. there was a loud silence once a smack noise leaves there lips the second they each depart. choso’s got a pout, a longing pout before he tries to act tough.

“shut up, toji.” he grouses, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“how ‘bout ya make me,” and you’re just sat there dumbfounded with your legs still sprawled as if you weren’t just being fought over - invisible questions marks pop up everywhere over your head. what about you? what about you. with quick reflexes, he pins choso flat down on his back before snickering, having the most lewd back arch imaginable.

“our re-match is tonight after all, pretty boy.”

12K notes · View notes

hazelfoureyes · 9 months ago

Text

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

3K notes · View notes

violet-eng · 10 months ago

Text

F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)

🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG

Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...

Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.

•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈••✦ ● ✦••┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•

Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject.

The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars.

Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.

Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.

So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.

Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.

You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being.

A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.

"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.

"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.

The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.

"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.

"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.

"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.

You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?

You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.

"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."

A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.

"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.

That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.

"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...

The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke, ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.

You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.

He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...?

"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.

"Well?" you insist.

"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.

His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.

The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.

You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.

You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.

The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.

"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....

Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.

"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.

Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.

"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin zhongli #zhongli smut #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #zhongli x

3K notes · View notes

mariasont · 7 months ago

Text

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

taglist: @chronicallybubbly @aremuslupinsimp @sky2nd @thisisdaisytrying @ryswritingrecord

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem reader #hotch #hotchner #ssa hotchner #aaron hotchner x bau reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fluff #Spotify

1K notes · View notes

the-flaneur · 13 days ago

Text

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

748 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 2 months ago

Note

addicted to your rafe!! you mentioned in the bartender!reader au that rafe shared his life story after their first time together and was just wondering if youd ever write about it? would love to read about rafe spilling all (in more ways than one hehe) and reader's reaction but only if its something youre interested in writing!!

i was planning on making the smut really cute BUT...it got a little out of hand bc they're both horny so....enjoy!!! but there's fluff i promise. and he spills everything (eheheh)🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️😌🫢 thank you for the request 🩵🫂

i'll do anything you say, if you say it with your hands - r.c (+18)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: SMUT!!!!; a little angst by the end and lots of fluff.

It's past midnight, and you’re sprawled out on your bed, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You’re still in your ratty tank top and sleep shorts, some throwaway show mumbling in the background.

The night’s quiet, a little too quiet, so when you hear a low thump at the window, you nearly jump out of your skin.

But you know that sound. That’s Rafe.

You glance over just as his messy dark blond head pops up outside the window, blue eyes gleaming mischievously. Your heart does this stupid thing, and you’re grinning before you even realize it. You slide the window up quickly, shushing him though you know he’s careful.

"Hi,” You whisper, leaning into him the second he’s in, his broad shoulders blotting out the rest of the room.

“Miss me?” he murmurs back, lips quirking as he brushes a hand through your hair.

“Maybe a little,” You tease, tugging him closer by the front of his shirt. Rafe’s standing there in just a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt that clings to every hard line of muscle.

God, it should be illegal for him to look this good.

His hair is still damp at the tips, like he just came from a shower. He leans down and kisses you, his fingers moving to the bare skin at your waist. You’ve been doing this dance for two months now. All hot make-outs that never really go anywhere. Mostly because you’re the one always getting called away for shifts, for family, for whatever comes up.

But right now, right here? There’s no work, no responsibilities. It’s just you and him. And the way he’s looking at you right now, all hooded eyes and smirking lips, it’s driving you crazy.

“Why’d you sneak in, hmm?” You murmur against his lips, playing with the hem of his shirt. He pulls back, just enough to look down at you, a lazy smile on his face.

“Wanted to see you,” he breathes, eyes tracing over me like you’re something to devour. “Couldn’t wait.”

You practically pounce on him, shoving him back until he’s pinned against the wall by the window, his eyes widening for a split second before his hands are holding your hips, steadying you as you sit on his lap. You love it when he manspreads.

It’s so unlike you it’s almost funny, but at this point you’re desperate to feel him. You press yourself up against him, grinding slowly, and you feel the exact moment he realizes just how serious you are right now.

“Fuck, baby—” he groans as his grip tightens, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. But you don’t want him to hold back.

“I’m done waiting,” You breathe, pushing his shirt up and over his head in one quick motion. “Rafe—I’m losing my mind here.” His shirt hits the floor, and you lel yourself really look at him.

All muscle, golden tan skin, the little dip between his abs you’ve fantasized about running your tongue along. You’ve seen him shirtless a million times, but right now?

He’s a goddamn masterpiece.

“I’m so horny it hurts, okay?” You admit in a whisper, almost like you can’t help it. His lips twitch as he leans in, his breath hot against your neck.

You feel your cheeks heat up. It’s not like you’re shy around him anymore, not really, but this feels different. You’re usually more reserved, the one who lets him make the moves, but tonight...you can’t help yourself.

“Sorry baby,” he murmurs as he rolls his hips up, and fuck, you can feel how hard he is already, straining against his jeans, “Want me to fix it for you?”

You know what he’s asking. You’ve had this conversation before—kind of.

The two of you have been skirting around it for weeks now, with heavy petting and breathless goodnights. You want more. You hook your fingers into his belt loops, tugging at him, and he hisses, biting back a curse.

“Bed” he grunts, half-laughing, half-panting as he lifts you like you weigh nothing, carrying you across the room.

You’re already tearing at his belt by the time you hit the bed, and he lets out this breathless, desperate sound, half-plea, half-growl that shoots straight through you.

“Need you,” You gasp, yanking the belt free, popping the button on his jeans. He’s still standing, hovering over you as you sit on the bed, and you look up at him, chest heaving, hair messy, eyes wild.

“Yeah?” he breathes, and there’s this edge to his voice. You smirk, tugging his zipper down slowly, deliberately, keeping your eyes on his as you push his jeans down his hips.

“Yeah,” You know you have him. He’s yours, and he’s done waiting, too.

Once his jeans hit the floor, he’s on you, all heat and muscle. Rafe’s hands grip your wrists, pinning them above your head as he looks down at you, breathing hard.

“I was trying to make it special,” he murmurs, his voice low, almost gravelly. “Our first time.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, he’s so stupidly and unexpectedly endearing sometimes it makes you fall even more.

“This not special enough for you?” You tease, arching your back and lifting your hips, feeling the slickness pooling between your thighs. “I don’t do it for you?”

“Oh, you do it for me, baby. Believe me.” His voice drops an octave, “’M trying to be a gentleman.”

“I don’t want a gentleman,” You quip, your tone playful, “I just want you.”

He wants to give in, but you know he also wants to take his time. “You sure about this?”

“Rafe. My shorts are stuck to my skin.”

He breathes in sharply, head dropping to your shoulder, as he murmurs, “You’re not wearing any panties?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. What’s it to you?” You tease, biting your lip, but you know you’re being a little reckless, teasing him like this.

He’s gonna get you good.

Rafe lifts his head, that infuriatingly handsome smirk still plastered on his face. “So you are, huh?” His voice is low, almost predatory. “You trying to drive me crazy?”

You shrug, trying to play it cool even though it physically hurts not to touch him the way you want to right now. “What if I am?”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. You arch against him, your breath hitching when he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear and sucks gently.

Your top hits the floor a second later. He’s kissing you again, his hands cupping you through your bra.

“Please,” you breathe, not even sure what you are asking for.

More, closer, something to stop the aching between your thighs. He seems to understand, though. He always does.

He unclasps your bra and tosses it aside, taking you in inch by inch, “My pretty girl,” You feel a blush creep up your cheeks, but before you can think about it, he dips his head and takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, he hums against your skin, the vibration making you delirious. His hand slids down to your shorts, pulling them with an easiness that makes your head spin.

Then they are gone, too, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Rafe pulls back slightly, his eyes raking over your body with a look that makes you squirm.

“Beautiful,” he mutters, almost to himself. “So fucking beautiful.”

“Rafe,” you whisper, reaching for him. When he finally slips his fingers into your panties, you are already trembling. “Please,” you whimper, rocking your hips against his hand.

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He’s touching you, his fingers finding your slick heat and stroking gently. You’re so wet his flingers glid right on. You gasp, hips bucking up instinctively as his fingers move across your folds, teasingly slow and close to your clit.

Rafe smirks, clearly enjoying how wrecked you already are.“Easy, baby,” his lips brush against your jawline. “We got all night.”

You’re past patience.

You grab his wrist, guiding his hand exactly where you want it. “Rafe,” you groan, your voice breaking a little, “I need more. Don’t piss me off.”

He chuckles, “So needy tonight,” he teases, but his voice is tight, like he’s losing it too. His fingers dip lower, stroking where you need him most, and you nearly lose it right there.

He lingers there for a moment, just barely grazing your slick folds, before pressing a finger against your entrance, warm and insistent. Slowly, he slides it in, and the sensation makes you moan—a slow, deliberate stretch as his finger sinks deep inside you. He curls it just the way you need him to, stroking your inner walls. It’s intimate, almost unbearable in how good it feels, the way he’s taking his time, drawing it out like he’s savoring every second. You tighten around him, wet and hot, and he groans softly as he adds another finger, filling you more, the stretch making your legs tremble.

“Fuck,” you whimper, your head falling back as he starts to pump his fingers in and out. The way his fingers stretch you, the wet sounds of him working you open, is filthy and intoxicating.

“Like that, baby?” His voice is thick with lust, his free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread wide for him. He’s so strong it makes you want to suck him whole.

You nod frantically, too far gone for words, only able to moan as he quickens the pace, thrusting his fingers in harder. Your walls flutter around him, tightening with every stroke, and you know you’re getting close—embarrassingly quick, but it’s been a while.

His thumb circles your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

“Oh God—please,” you gasp, your fingers clutching at his arm, desperate for more. He smirks against your skin, clearly enjoying the way you’re panting beneath him. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, and he knows it.

His lips brush against your neck, teasingly slow, while his fingers move with purpose, hitting all the right spots. Your breath is coming in short, ragged bursts as your body answers to his. You can feel the heat coiling tight in your belly, and you’re practically shaking with anticipation.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breath uneven, eyes locked on you as if he’s watching every bit of pleasure cross your face.

“Come for me, baby,” he murmurs, his voice just as wrecked, “Let me feel you.”

You’re so close it’s dizzying, you can barely catch your breath.

He leans in, lips caressing your ear, “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “I can feel you’re almost there. You’re so tight around my fingers—fuck, you’re close, aren’t you?” You can only nod, your breath hitching as his thumb circles your clit with just the right pressure, your hips grinding up into his hand instinctively. every word out of his mouth pushes you closer. “Look at you,” he coaxes, his voice like velvet, “So perfect.”

His fingers twist inside you, hitting that sweet spot, and your whole body tenses. The pleasure builds into a burning coil deep in your tummy, tightening with every movement.

You can’t think, can’t breathe, and all you can do is feel—feel him, feel the way he’s working you. The way he’s talking you through it.

“Just like that,” he whispers, “You’re doing so good, baby. Let me feel it.”

His thumb presses harder against you, and your whole body jerks up. You cry out, a broken sound, your hips bucking uncontrollably as your orgasm hits you perfectly. Rafe’s fingers never stop, drawing it out, his other hand still gripping your thighs open “That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come.” Your body trembles beneath him, the pleasure still vibrating through you, and he’s right there, “Ride it out, baby,” he breathes, his lips kissing your temple, his voice full of pride. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so good. So fucking good.”

You can’t do anything but cling to him as you shudder. He finally slows his fingers, easing you down gently, and when he pulls them out, you feel the emptiness like a loss. You’re still catching your breath, body buzzing from the orgasm he just wrung out of you, but you notice the shit-eating grin on his face as he glances down at his hand, fingers still slick from you, and then slowly brings them to his mouth.

He holds your gaze, never breaking eye contact as he slips his fingers between his lips, tasting you. It’s slow and the way his eyes darken while his tongue sweeps over his fingers makes you whine.

"God, baby," he murmurs around his fingers, as he pulls them from his mouth with a soft pop, licking his lips. “You taste so fucking good.”

You’re breathless, watching him like you’re in a trance, your heart pounding in your chest. The sight of him tasting you like that, makes your legs open again. He grins, noticing how wrecked you look. “Didn’t think I could want you more,”

You’re still so turned on that you can’t help the way your thighs squeeze together instinctively. His eyes flicker down, catching the movement, and his grin only widens as he crawls back up your body, settling between your legs, “Don’t tease.”

"Don’t worry, baby," his lips skim against yours, “Not teasing anymore.”

You don’t know where you get the strength to do it. But you do it anyways.

As soon as Rafe settles back, you push him onto his back, taking advantage of his surprised expression, and climb on top, straddling his waist, your hands braced against his chest. You can feel the hard planes of his abs beneath your fingers, and the heat of him pressed against your pussy makes your mouth water. You can feel it building inside you, the need to take him, to ride him until there’s nothing left.

His hands settle on your ass, firm, but not controlling, giving you full reign to take what you want. His eyes are on yours, half-lidded and a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Go on, baby,” he drawls, his voice like honey, “Show me what you can do.”

You don’t even remember pulling his boxers down.

You don’t need to be told twice.

You let yourself brush against the hard length of him, and the sensation alone makes you bite your lip to hold back a moan. His cock is thick, long and hot beneath you, and you grind against him slowly, dragging your wetness along his length, teasing the both of you. You’re rocking back and forth against his tip, dragging him in between your soaked folds and pulling huffs and puffs from his throat as he only grows more impatient by the second.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, your clit rubbing against his pubic hair with every movement, the friction doing it for you. His abs tense beneath you, flexing with each of your movements, and the sight of it—of him completely at your mercy—only makes you wetter.

You lean forward, your hands sliding up his chest, feeling the way his muscles move under your touch.

“You like that?” you murmur, your voice breathy, teasing, as you grind harder against him. “Like watching me ride you?”

Rafe’s head falls back against the pillow, all the way back, his jaw clenched, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Jesus Christ,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter, lifting his hips to try and shift his cock towards your entrance.

You lean in, your lips dragging against the side of his neck. He shivers under your touch, and the reaction makes you grin. You start off slow, pressing gentle kisses to his skin, your lips trailing from his jaw down to the spot where his pulse is beating just a little faster, teasing him with your breath.

“Right here?” you whisper, barely grazing his skin.

You can feel his body tense as you speak, a low sound escaping his throat. You roll your hips again, this time letting the tip of his cock catch at your entrance. You’re so wet that he slides in just an inch, and the stretch is enough to make you gasp, your nails digging into his chest. His eyes fly open, and you can see the tension in his body, every muscle tight as he holds himself back from pouding into you, waiting for you to take him fully.

You press your mouth to his neck and start sucking, enjoying the taste of him under your lips.

His grip on is borderline bruising and you love it when another low moan slips out as you work your mouth against him. You make sure to take your time, alternating between sucking and nipping lightly with your teeth, just enough to make him shudder beneath you.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice strained as you keep going, making sure to leave your mark. With a deep breath, you sink dow, slowly feeling every inch of him stretch you, filling you completely. The sensation is overwhelming—he’s big, almost too big, and it feels so fucking good you almost drool. By the time you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried deep inside you, your thighs are shaking, and you can feel the heat pooling in your belly all over again.

You suck harder, enjoying the multitasking, applying enough pressure enough to leave a dark bruise that he won’t be able to hide. His fingers dig into your waist, but he doesn’t pull you away—instead, he’s holding you there, like he wants to feel every second of it.

“Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine," You manage to breath out, moaning as you grip his chest for support, spit slicked lips parting as you gasp some more, "You feel so good."

His eyes are hooded as he looks down at you, lips parted, breathing uneven. “Yeah?” he rasps, his gaze flicking to your lips before he grins, a little breathless. “Didn’t think you had it in you, baby.”

His hands slide up your waist, his fingers splayed across your ribs, guiding you as you start to move. You start to ride him, slow at first, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. The friction, combined with the way his cock fills you, hits every nerve just right. Maybe if it was someone else you’d be embarrassed to be panting like a bitch in heat, but it’s Rafe and you never felt so comfortable during sex before.

Every time you lift your hips and drop back down, you take him deeper, as you work yourself on top of him. His hands slide up to your tits, squeezing gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

You pick up the pace, bouncing on him harder now, grinding down with each thrust, chasing that high. Rafe’s eyes are glued to you, watching every move you make, his lips parted, his chest heaving with each stolen breath.

“Fuck,” you pant, barely able to catch your breath as you ride him faster, “I want you so deep, so bad.”

He lets out a rough, desperate groan, his hips bucking up to meet yours, his cock hitting even deeper inside you. “I’m right here, baby,” he grits out, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself back, “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

His hands are on you, gripping your ass with a desperation that makes you mewl out. His fingers dig in, rough and possessive, and the way he’s groping you, like he can’t get enough, makes you want to never stop. Each time you move, his hands flex, squeezing and pulling you down onto his cock, it has you practically whining with every bounce.

“You’re driving me crazy. Just look at you, taking me so good.”

His grip tightens as you roll your hips, pushing your ass back against his hands, the pressure sending a jolt of pleasure straight through you. You’re completely lost in the rhythm now, grinding down on him like you’re in heat, the friction of his cock inside you and the way his pubic hairs rub against your swollen clit making you lightheaded.

And then, out of nowhere, his hand comes down hard.

The sting of his palm smacking your cheek sends a shock through your body, and you gasp—half surprise, half pleasure. It’s rough, but fuck, it feels divine. Your head snaps forward, and you moan, the sound coming out needy.

“You like that, huh?” Rafe growls, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you react. His voice is thick with satisfaction, knowing exactly what he just did to you. “Being spanked?”

You bite your lip and nod, too far gone to be shy. "Yes," you pant, your voice shaky with need. "Do it again."

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hand comes down again, harder this time, it makes your skin burn and clench around him. The pleasure spikes, white-hot, and you moan louder, your body arching into his.

"Fuck, you're so sexy like this," He groans, watching you with hooded eyes, clearly loving how much you’re enjoying it.

You practically whimper, the combination of pain and pleasure sending you spiraling. You’re riding him like you’re losing your mind, your thighs burning. The way his hand soothes your skin, kneading the tender area where he just spanked you, makes you want to do this every single day for the rest of your life.

You lean forward, bracing your hands on his chest as he bucks his hips, meeting your movements with his own, driving deeper inside you. It’s too much and not enough all at once.

“You feel so good,” you hiss as you rock your hips faster. His tip hits that perfect spot deep inside you, again and again.

His eyes flick between your face and where you’re connected, and you can tell he’s close too. His grip tightens on you, nails digging into your skin like he’s afraid to let go.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he rasps, voice hoarse, “Fuck, you’re so good. You’re gonna make me come.”

Feeling you wrapped around him like that—so fucking tight, so warm—he can’t fucking stand it. Every time you slide back down, taking him all the way like you're made for it, he feels his mind slipping. It's like he's losing control, just hanging on for dear life, and every little throb around him pulls him closer to his orgasm, it makes him feel dangerously close to delirium.

He uses one of his hands to grip and knead at the fat of your hip. You let out a high-pitched squeal and clench around him. "Baby," you cry out, pretty tears collecting on your lash line.

He pinches your chin lightly, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your skin, “You have to be quiet, pretty,” you glance up at your boyfriend, “The walls are thin, and you can’t—”

You interrupt him by leaning down and kissing him sloppily. You swirl your tongue around his, feeling the way his cock throbs inside you as he grinds up into you, hitting that spot every single time.

The sloppy kiss you planted on him shuts him up, but only for a second. His lips slide against yours, his tongue swirling in that messy, desperate way that makes your head spin. He groans into your mouth, rough and low, like he’s losing the control he’s trying to hold onto. His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, holding you in place as you ride him faster, bouncing harder on his cock.

“Look at you,” he grits, pulling back just enough to watch the way your face twists in pleasure. The way you clench down on him makes him groan, his grip on your neck tightening just a bit as his other hand lands another sharp slap on your ass.“You like when I fuck you like this, huh?”

You whine against his lips, your body trembling as he thrusts up harder, meeting each of your desperate bounces. You can feel the pressure building inside you, ready to snap.

His hand slides between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit, rubbing tight, quick circles that make you drop your head forward, laying on your body on top of his. You can’t stop the way you grind down harder on him, chasing that final push.

“Fuck, baby,” you gasp, barely able to push the words out. “I’m gonna—”

And then you’re gone, falling into that mind-numbing pleasure as you come hard around him, your whole body shaking, thighs tightening around his as your orgasm crashes over you. You’re clenching around his cock, the feeling making him curse under his breath, his hips bucking up into you as he chases his release.

He rams up into you, full force, his breath coming out in harsh, irregular pants. “I’m right there,” he groans, “Gonna fill you up, you want that?”

You can barely nod, still lost in the aftershocks of your orgasm, but that’s all he needs. With one final, deep thrust, he comes hard inside you, groaning your name as he spills into you. His hands grip you tight, holding you down on his length as he empties himself into you, his whole-body twitching with the intensity of his release

His hands roam lazily over your back, the touch slow, like he doesn’t want it to end. He’s still inside you, softening, but neither of you make a move to separate.

His lips press a few lazy kisses against your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he murmurs. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

You smile weakly, too blissed out to respond, and nuzzle into the crook of his neck. After a few minutes, you reluctantly lift yourself off him, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the loss of connection. Rafe lets out a content sigh, his hands still trailing down your sides as you move.

You flop down next to him, breath still shallow, your head resting on his chest. He immediately pulls you close, his arm wrapping around you, holding you tight.His hand stops moving, resting on your back, and you feel his chest rise as he takes a deep breath.

"My mom left when I was seven," he says, voice oddly quiet, almost hesitant, like he’s not sure where to start. It almost feels like he’s talking to himself more than to you. He’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, one arm slung across his stomach, the other still lightly resting on your waist.

You lift your head, looking up at him, but you stay quiet, giving him space to talk.

“She just… up and left. Told me she was going to visit some family and never came back.” He lets out a short, bitter laugh, his chest rising and falling against you. “I used to sit at the window for weeks, thinking maybe I’d see her pull up one day. But she didn’t. She never did. And I thought, you know, for a long time, maybe it was me. Like, maybe if I’d been better, she would’ve stayed. I don’t know—kids think dumb shit like that, right?”

You feel your heart tighten at the pain in his voice, and you reach up, brushing your fingertips against his chest. He doesn’t look at you, but you can feel him lean into the touch just a little.

“And Ward… fuck, Ward didn’t know what to do with us. He just buried himself in work, left me to deal with Sarah and Weezie. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing. I was just a kid myself. I never accepted that responsibility, just kept running away from it.”

You can tell this is hard for him. His hand tightens slightly around your waist, like he needs to feel you’re still there.

“When I was sixteen... I started doing coke. Barry—yeah, that Barry—he used to sell it to me. Just to take the edge off, you know? Numb it all out. Ward’s expectations, Mom being gone, having to pretend like I had my shit together when I didn’t. I didn’t care about anything but getting high.”

He pauses, swallowing hard, his jaw tightening. You can tell this part of his story is the hardest to tell.

“I fucked up a lot. Scared the shit out of my sisters. I’d disappear for days sometimes, come home all strung out, and Sarah—God, Sarah would just look at me like... like she didn’t even know me anymore. Weezie was too young to get it, but Sarah? She knew.” He lets out a shaky breath, “I saw what it was doin’ to them. Saw how Sarah would flinch every time I walked through the door like she was waiting for the next disaster. It got bad—real bad.”

His voice drops even lower, almost like he’s ashamed.

“I didn’t want to be that guy anymore. The one scaring my little sisters, acting like a piece of shit. So I went to rehab. Didn’t tell anyone where I was going, just… left. I needed to get clean, for them. For me, too, I guess.”

He pauses, looking at you now, his blue eyes filled with something vulnerable, something that almost breaks your heart.

“I didn’t think I’d ever get out of it, but I did. Been clean since. That doesn’t mean I’ve figured everything out, though. I’m still... fuck, I’m still a mess most days.”

He’s never opened up to you like this before—not like this.You reach out and run your fingers through his hair, the simple gesture calming him a little. He leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment.

“You probably didn’t sign up for all this shit,” he says with a half-smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Me, my addiction, all that.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you like he’s waiting for something—maybe for you to tell him you can’t handle it. But you don’t say that. Instead, you brush your thumb across his cheek, “I signed up for you, Rafe. All of you.”

“I don’t talk about this shit much. Guess I didn’t think anyone cared enough to hear it.”

You move, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look him the eyes properly,. “I care,” you say, your voice full of conviction. “I care about all of it. I’m here for you.”

He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

His hand moves to hold your cheek, pulling you down to meet his lips in a slow, tender kiss. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea what you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time deeper, his hand sliding up the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair.

His lips trail from your mouth, pressing lazy kisses down your jaw, over your neck. He shifts, pulling you closer, your body molding perfectly to his. “I don’t deserve you,” he mutters, his lips hovering over your collarbone.

You shake your head, resting a hand on his chest. “You do. You deserve someone who’s gonna be there for you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You know this is a side of Rafe not many people see—probably no one else does.

“Good thing you won’t have to find out.”

“You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs, his lips twitching into a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he says suddenly, the words spilling out of him in this quiet, almost reverent way.

You can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as you lean down, pressing a kiss to his nose. “Stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He chuckles softly, pulling you closer again, his arms wrapping securely around you. His cheek rests against the top of your head. You’re not going anywhere. And neither is he.

Rafe lets out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over his face. “I can’t believe your pussy made me trauma dump after sex.”

The crudeness of it makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah?” You tease lightly, “That what you’re calling it?”

He swallows, feeling that familiar tightness in his throat, but it doesn’t feel as suffocating this time. You’re still here. “No. It’s...you. Just—being you.”

He doesn’t know how to say it any better, doesn’t know how to put into words what it means to finally be seen — not as the perfect son, not as a ticking time bomb — just as Rafe.

But you peck him, simple and sweet.

“I guess I’ll just keep being me.”

The next morning you’re standing in the kitchen, lazily pouring milk over your cereal, still a little giddy from the night before. Rafe left earlier, before anyone was up, whining about how he wished he could stay longer.

As you take a spoon, your sister walks in with Milo perched on her hip, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Monica stops in her tracks, a sly smile creeping across her face.

“Nice hickey you got there,” she says, raising an eyebrow and gesturing toward your neck.

You choke on your cereal like an idiot.

“Uh, it’s just a... a bug bite! A really aggressive bug bite,” you stammer, trying to sound convincing as you awkwardly touch your neck.

Right, you’d forgotten about that after round three this morning.

She laughs, clearly not buying it. “Right. And when am I meeting him? Are you gonna make him sneak through the window again?”

You can’t help but giggle at the mental image. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Monica rolls her eyes, clearly enjoying this way too much. “What’s next? Is he going to slide down a fire escape to avoid us?”

You smirk back, shaking your head. “Only if you promise not to scare him off with your ‘get-to-know-my-sister’ interrogation.”

Milo, oblivious to the banter, tugs at your sister’s hair. “Mommy, can I have a snack?”

“Just finish getting ready for pre-school, buddy!” She turns back to you, still wearing that teasing grin. “Seriously though, when do I get to meet this guy? I need to know if he’s worthy of you.”

You shrug playfully, trying to keep your expression neutral. “We’ll see. Maybe next time he sneaks through the window, you can just happen to be in the living room.”

She gasps in mock horror. “Oh no, imagine the chaos! I might just scare him away on purpose.”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re terrible.”

“Terribly excited! You better let me know when he’s back. I want to be ready to intimidate him.”

“Noted!” You wave her off, still grinning, secretly glad that your sister is supportive—even if she loves to poke fun at you.

For some reason, it doesn’t scare one bit thinking about Rafe meeting Monica and Milo.

478 notes · View notes

sceletaflores · 6 months ago

Text

college!pervy!patrick stealing your underwear 18+

it's pure fucking luck when it happens.

art wouldn't stop complaining about having to take his dirty laundry to the communal room on his dorm floor that housed all the washers and dryers. patrick doesn't know why the fuck he offered to take it up for him in the first place, to shut art up? to make him happy?

who gives a shit anyways cause while he's taking arts stupidly full hamper to the laundry room and following the half-assed directions given to him, he bumps right into someone as soon as he steps foot through the already open door. when he cranes his head around the edge of art's hamper he nearly jumps with fucking joy at what, or more-so who, greets him.

he knew who you were already. art wouldn't stop blowing up his phone with texts about "the hot new chick with an out of this world backhand and a killer fucking rack!". so as soon as he got off the bus in cali and stepped foot in art's cushy dorm room he obviously demanded he take him to one of your matches, and holy fucking shit.

you absolutely obliterate the poor girl on the opposite side of the net. running her up and down the court like a chicken with its head cut off while you stay calm and collected.

he could come just watching your perfect form as you hammer another excellent serve at your opponent, but something has to be said for the fucking outfit you're wearing. the tight tank of your dress does show off your, now proven, killer fucking rack but goddamn that skirt should be illegal. even the flowy pleated fabric can't hide the thick curve of your ass underneath, bouncing as you take off to chase after the ball.

he's white knuckling the edges of his seat the entire match, using every ounce of willpower in his body to not pop a boner in the middle of the fucking stands and even more willpower to not look over at the smug fucking grin plastered on art's face as he watches him. safe to say, you've been on his mind ever since.

now, you stand in front of him holding your own hamper with an apologetic smile on your face.

"shit, i'm so sorry. i didn't even see you." you say, way too chipper for 9 a.m on a sunday.

patrick is the epitome of a cocky, arrogant asshole. he has girls in nearly every state practically begging to choke on his dick without him so much as raising a finger in their direction. he's beyond smooth. he has every sleazy line known to man on the tip of his tongue at all times, yet when he goes to speak he can't manage anything besides a weak mutter of, "s'alright." he mentally punches himself in the balls for letting your bambi eyes and dick sucking lips get the better of him.

you give him a nod and one last friendly smile before stepping around him and making your way down the hallway. patrick watches in damn near agony as you go, ponytail swinging behind you in time with the sway of your hips.

patrick lets out an all suffering groan, dropping his head to his chest in defeat. "fucking dumbass.' he admonishes himself quietly, letting himself wallow in misery before making to take a step forward when suddenly he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

it takes him a few seconds to register just what he's staring at, but when it clicks he nearly has a fucking heart attack. there on the floor lays a pair of lacy white panties, your lacy white panties. it takes him all of a millisecond to drop art's hamper on the floor carelessly and practically dive to snatch them up. as soon as his fingers touch the fabric he can feel himself chubbing up in his sweats. he runs his fingertips over the hem, feeling the familiar rough texture that was snug against your body so recently makes sparks go off near the base of his spine.

when patrick hears lively conversation and footsteps heading his way he shoves the panties in his pocket and snatches art's hamper off the floor to start haphazardly shoving his clothes in the washer.

when he finally re-enters art's dorm room he's met with his best friends face staring at him suspiciously. "what the fuck took you so long?" art questions, brow raised as he watches patrick stumble over to his bed and plop down a little too roughly. patrick's reply is simple.

“got lost."

it's only later, when he's back on the train heading for his latest stop and digging into his pocket in search of his lighter that he feels it. the lacy fabric of your panties still stuffed deep into his pocket. his breath hitches in his throat and before he knows what he's doing he's up like a shot and speed walking to the back of the cart.

he's in the bathroom a mere five seconds before he's ripping his fly down and furiously stroking his hard as steel cock in a cramped train bathroom he can barely stand up fully in. it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before he's busting in the fucking sink with your dainty white panties balled up in his fist and held against his nose as he inhales so heavily he might fucking pass out.

patrick has already found, and requested you, on facebook by the time he makes it back to his seat.

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

big shout outs to @yuenity @callsign-artemis @ebodebo (who each put up with me ranting about this so wonderfully love you guys mwah)

#— 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ♡#i literally put the pedal to the metal on this one #i wrote it in like an hour #i'm so obsessed with him its not even funny #like i need to be put away #genuinely #or diagnosed with hysteria #it's so bad #challengers smut #challengers movie #challengers #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig smut #patrick zweig fic

604 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 5 months ago

Text

Unexpected Bond

Pairing - Tim Bradford x teen!reader

Word count - 7,340

Warnings - inaccurate police stuff, injuries, blood, knives, hospitals, swearing, mentions of being harassed/made uncomfortable

Summary - while on patrol, Lucy and Tim help an injured teen and while tracking down her attacker, Tim finds out he has a protective, paternal side

Sequel - 'A Safe Home'

A/N - hey y'all! I know it's been a hot while since I wrote anything and I'm so truly sorry for that. but in binging The Rookie, I found myself wanting to write something for Tim Bradford and so this came to light and so I'm posting it as a test (a Tim Test if you will) to kinda gauge how y'all feel about me writing for a new fandom (again still not finished the show so please don't spoil). As per y'all please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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

The sun was shining in Los Angeles as Tim Bradford and Lucy Chen drove around on patrol, eyes ever so often flicking around in search of illegal activity.

“Come on, you’re seriously not going to let me put the AC on? It’s so hot.” Lucy complains, fighting the urge to stick her head out of the window to get some relief from the sweltering heat inside the shop.

“You know the rules, Boot,” Tim says, sparing Lucy a brief side eye before focusing back on the road. Lucy lets out a slight huff, mentally reminding herself of how much longer she has to obey Tim’s rules before she becomes a P2. Before Lucy could open her mouth to reply in a last-ditch effort to convince Tim to put the AC on, a woman runs out of the nearby park, arms waving wildly and calling out towards the police cruiser.

“We need help!” At the woman’s yells, Tim pulls over, both him and Lucy getting out of the shop as soon as the engine has been turned off before hurrying over to the woman.

“What’s the problem?” Tim asks, a neutral and level tone to his voice to not cause any more panic. In response, the woman begins leading Tim and Lucy into the park, going on a tangent about how she’d been on her morning jog when she stumbled across something she thought was suspicious at first. One glance at Tim and Lucy could tell his patience was wearing thin with the woman skirting around the issue.

“Ma’am, what did you find?” Lucy asks, already bracing herself for what she might find.

“I found this teenage girl curled up on the bench. I thought she was a junkie or homeless so I went to try and move her or something but… she’s bleeding.” The woman says, pointing out the teenage girl curled up on the bench, hand clamped on her side.

“Chen, radio for help.” Tim orders, grabbing his gloves and pulling them on as he approaches the bench, kneeling alongside it while he assesses the damage as best he can.

“Hey kid, can you hear me?” Tim tries, looking from the wound to your face, trying to see how responsive you are. He could tell your breathing was laboured and shallow so all he wanted to do now was treat the wound as best he could and keep you conscious. As Tim gently moves your hand away from your injury, you let out a slight moan of pain, attempting to curl further into yourself.

“I know. I’m sorry. I need to try and slow the bleeding.” Tim apologises softly, hand clamping down on your wound, bunching up the material of your shirt to act as a barrier to prevent any further blood loss. When you groaned in pain once more and blindly swatted at his hand, Tim used his teeth to pull the glove off his spare hand, dropping it on the floor and grabbing your flailing hand in his.

“Okay kid, just squeeze my hand when it hurts. Sound good?” Tim says, getting your response, squeezing his hand tightly, whimpering quietly. Since his plan to try and get you to talk to him wasn't working, though he could only blame the blood loss, he needed to do what he could to ensure you stayed conscious.

“Ambulance is on its way, ETA two minutes,” Lucy says, approaching Tim and watching as he tends to your wound.

“Can you make sure no one crowds around? Paramedics will need quick and easy access and it won’t be easy with these guys watching like it’s a damn circus. But if there is anyone who might know what happened, get a statement.” Tim mutters, aware of the forming crowd, phones in hand as they document the event like they were at a concert. With a nod, Lucy steps back and approaches the crowd, letting them know that the situation is being handled and that they need to get back to their own business.

After a couple of minutes, the ambulance pulls up, and the paramedics soon appear alongside Tim.

“She’s been bleeding since we found her and even before that. From the looks of things, it might be some kind of stab wound. She’s been virtually unresponsive besides squeezing my hand and making a few sounds. She’s definitely out of it because of the blood loss so she needs urgent attention.” Tim says, doing his best to explain the situation with the limited knowledge he had.

“Okay, we’ve got it from here.” One of the paramedics says, easing himself down alongside Tim to assess the damage. Tim carefully moved his hand away from the wound to let the paramedic get to work. As Tim moves to gently release your hand he feels you squeeze tighter as the paramedic begins to place a bandage over your wound to prevent further blood loss until you make it to the hospital.

“I’ve got to let go kid. The paramedics need to do their job.” Tim whispers, a softness to his tone that not many get to hear. At his words, your grip loosened enough for Tim to gently extract his hand before he stepped back, allowing the paramedics to get on with their job while he crossed to Lucy.

“Did anyone see anything?” Tim asks, standing in front of Lucy as he folds his arms and glances around.

“Nothing concrete. Most people around only saw her after she collapsed.” Lucy says defeatedly, closing her notebook and tucking her pen away.

“We’ll follow the ambulance to the hospital. Stick around until the kid’s in the clear and see if we can get a statement.” Tim says with a nod, already beginning to turn around and head back in the direction of their shop with Lucy hot on his heels, radioing control to let them know what they’re going to be doing. Once they get in the vehicle, Tim begins the drive to the hospital fighting the urge to speed the entire way.

To Lucy, it felt like they had gotten to the hospital in record time and she was nearly bursting at the seams to make a light joke about it to Tim but she also didn’t feel like being on the end of a death glare or being made to walk outside the shop while Tim drives. The two enter the hospital and after Tim questions a nurse about the teen girl just brought in, they’re given directions to the ward you’d be in and that you are currently being prepped for minor surgery to control any internal bleeding and Lucy didn’t miss the flash of worry that covered Tim’s face at the mere mention of surgery. The two made their way to where they had been directed and once they reached the waiting room, Lucy took a seat while Tim played the pacing game. Lucy could’ve sworn that Tim pestered the nurses almost a hundred times a minute about any updates regarding your surgery.

“Tim, they’ll let us know when we’re able to try and get a statement from her,” Lucy says, glancing up at Tim as he strides past her once more, stopping him in his tracks.

“I know that. I’m just… worried. Seeing a kid hurt is never easy. I just want to find out who did this to her so we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Tim says with a sigh, head bowing slightly before glancing over at Lucy who softens a little at her TO’s words. She knew he wasn’t always the hard-ass he presented himself to be in the station, but seeing him so worried about a teenager’s wellbeing was like seeing a whole new side to him. Before Lucy could speak once more, a nurse approached the two, making Lucy get up from her seat.

“Thank you for your patience officers. The surgery has gone smoothly and we’re transferring her to a room now. There will be a bit more of a wait until she comes around before a doctor will assess whether she’s in a good enough condition to be questioned. You’re free to continue your patrol if you wish and we can contact you when she’s ready.” The nurse says, addressing both Lucy and Tim who glance at each other after the nurse has finished talking.

“I think we’ll stick around, thanks,” Tim says with a polite yet curt nod towards the nurse, watching as she walks off before turning to face Lucy.

“What if we’re needed? We can be helping out on the streets and just wait for a call from the hospital before coming back to get a statement.” Lucy asks, looking up at Tim with a shocked and confused expression.

“Who’s in charge here, Boot? If they need us, they’ll radio us. For now, I’d rather wait here, get the kid's statement and stop this guy before another kid gets hurt.” Tim says firmly, resuming his pacing as Lucy sinks back into the uncomfortable waiting room chair, pulling out her phone and texting Jackson in the hope he’ll be able to respond.

After an hour and a half of Tim pacing back and forth and Lucy flipping between texting Jackson and scrolling through various social media, a nurse approaches the two again, stopping Tim in his tracks while Lucy shoves her phone in her pocket and stands up.

“She’s come around and the doctors have cleared her for you to take a statement. However, I will warn you she hasn’t been the most talkative so I don’t know how easy it’ll be to get anything out of her.” The nurse says, leading Tim and Lucy towards the room you have been moved to for recovery.

“Thank you. We’ve got it from here.” Tim says, reaching for the door handle to enter the room.

“Oh, one last thing. We haven’t managed to get a name out of her yet so if you manage to do that please let us know so we can contact whoever necessary.” The nurse quickly adds, making both Tim and Lucy nod before Tim pulls the door open and enters the room with Lucy close behind.

“Hey, kid. I’m Officer Tim Bradford and this is Officer Lucy Chen. We were the first responders on sight when you were found in the park.” Tim introduced both himself and Lucy, noting how shy and withdrawn you looked and made sure to take a gentler approach.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you guys…” You mumble sheepishly, fiddling with your fingers as your gaze flicks down to your hands to avoid eye contact. Truthfully, you had recognised Tim’s voice the second he started speaking. You don’t think you could ever forget a voice that made you feel so safe in the most terrifying moment of your life.

“Don’t apologise. You suffered a lot of blood loss so it’s understandable that you don’t remember everything. We’ve shared our names, can we get yours?” Tim asks, watching you quietly as you nod.

“It’s y/n. y/n l/n.” You say quietly, briefly glancing up at the two officers, noticing how Lucy noted down your name.

“Have you got any family we can contact?” Lucy asks, looking from her notebook to you as you shake your head.

“No family.” You admit, feeling heat creeping into your cheek as your gaze dropped once more and both Tim and Lucy exchanged a look at your admission.

“So, are you in a children’s home then?” Tim asks, fighting the urge not to frown when you nod your head, confirming his suspicions.

“If you could even call it that.” You mutter, causing Lucy to smoothly change the subject.

“Is there anything you can tell us about who stabbed you?” She asks, both officers noticing how your hand came to rest atop where your injury was.

“I didn’t see a face, he had a hood covering his face. It was the early hours of the morning and all I remember was a guy grabbing me and then the next thing I knew I was stabbed.” You explain, feeling useless that you couldn’t provide more to help.

“And did the stabbing happen in the park? Where we found you?” Tim enquires further, wanting to put together as many details as possible.

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t been sleeping so well recently so I sneak out and go on walks in the morning to energise myself enough to get through the day. I don’t have a specific route on these walks so maybe… I don’t know.” You say, sighing lightly as you rack your brain for any memory of what happened to you.

“Maybe what?” Tim prods gently, wanting to get as much information as possible.

“The home I’m in really isn’t the best. Most of the kids there end up as drug dealers or in gangs. Maybe I walked onto some gang territory without realising it or maybe I stumbled across something I shouldn’t have I don’t know.” You mumble, trying to make sense of all the information in your head.

“Are you part of any gangs?” Lucy asks, not wanting to sound accusatory but needing an answer.

“No. Not at all. I’m probably the only teenager there who doesn’t get involved in any of that stuff.” You quickly clarify, shaking your head to exaggerate your point.

“But… I’m not the most popular kid in the home either. I wouldn’t be surprised if most of the kids tell their gang members it’s okay to mess with me.” You continue with a shrug, making Tim’s heart hurt at how small and defeated you look.

“Is there anything else you can remember from the stabbing? Anything that could help us identify your attacker?” Tim asks, folding his arms across his chest as he speaks.

“The guy said something, I can’t remember what. But he did have a crazy deep voice. I didn’t know someone could have a voice that deep. I’d probably be able to recognise his voice if I heard it again.” You recall, feeling like you’re scraping the barrel of your knowledge of what happened. At your words, Tim unfolds his arms, digging into his pocket for his card and crossing the room to hold the card out towards you.

“Thank you for your help. If you remember anything else feel free to give us a call.” Tim says with a soft smile, watching as you carefully extract the card from his hand, flipping it over a couple of times and studying the words on it as you nod lightly. As Tim and Lucy move to leave your hospital room you speak up.

“Officers. Thank you… for saving me.” You say, nervousness gripping your stomach as you talk. You knew you had nothing to feel nervous about, after all, they had saved your life.

“No need to thank us, kid. Just focus on getting better.” Tim says with a nod while Lucy bids you a soft goodbye before they both exit your hospital room.

“Okay, Chen we’re going to find out what home y/n is in and then we should scope out the area. Find out what we can about the kids that are in gangs.” Tim says as the two make their way through the hospital.

“And hopefully find someone with a deep enough voice that y/n recognises,” Lucy adds as they both get into the shop.

“I’m hoping we can track the guy down ourselves. I’d rather not have to drag the kid into this if I can help it.” Tim says, starting the engine and pulling out of the parking spot while Lucy busies herself with trying to find out what children's home you’re in. At Tim’s protective words, Lucy raises an eyebrow and smirks lightly.

“So all that talk about me adopting a puppy and you’ve gotten yourself one of your own.” She muses jokingly, watching as Tim glances at her out of the corner of his eyes.

“I did not adopt a puppy. This is a kid who was hurt and there’s a chance she could get hurt again if we don’t do something about it soon. I want to catch the guy who did this to her and get her someplace safe if this home is as bad as she’s making it out to be. You, however, felt bad for someone who stole your car.” Tim defends, trying not to let on how worried he truly is about you. Lucy, unconvinced by his words, nods and focuses her attention back to the computer.

“We’ve got a location of the home. Let’s head over there.” Lucy reports, giving Tim the address and beginning to do further background research as Tim begins driving in the direction of the children’s home. The drive didn’t take long from the park where they had found you and as they neared, both Tim and Lucy began to understand why you had said it wasn’t a good home.

The children’s home was located in a run-down area, just one look around the neighbourhood and anyone could tell that crime thrives in it. Just the mere presence of Tim and Lucy was already garnering them weird looks as they parked outside of the children’s home and exited their shop, crossing to the front door and knocking on it before taking a step back to wait for someone to open the door.

“What do you want?” The door is thrown open and Tim comes face to face with a short man who quickly notices Tim and Lucy’s uniforms and straightens up.

“Sorry. What can I do for you officers?” He amends his words, painting on a large smile that anyone could tell was fake.

“I’m Officer Bradford and this is Officer Chen. May we come in?” Tim asks, already beginning to make his way towards the door as the man holds it open to allow them both in.

“Let’s talk in my office. I’m Stan.” He introduces himself and leads the two towards his office, a small murky room piled high with paperwork.

“A teenager who is in your care, y/n l/n, was found stabbed in the park not too far from here. Do you have any idea who might’ve done this to her?” Lucy begins as Stan takes his seat behind his desk.

“y/n was stabbed? That’s a real shame.” Stan says, making Tim cock an eyebrow at his faux sincerity.

“She’s in the hospital recovering from her injuries. Again, do you know of anyone who might like to hurt her? She mentioned that a lot of the kids around here wind up involved with gangs. Do any of them have reason to hurt her?” Tim asks, watching as Stan shrugs lightly.

“If I’m honest, the kid was an easy target. She’s been here since she was practically a baby so being the longest-running kid in the home is bound to put a little bit of a target on your back.” Stan says nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair while Lucy notices Tim clench his jaw.

“So you’re telling us you allowed those kids to pick on her just because she was an ‘easy target’ in your eyes?” Lucy asks, hoping that somehow she was wrong in how she interpreted Stan’s words.

“I know who those kids hang out with. I’m not looking to put myself in the line of fire for her.” At Stan’s words, Tim was unable to hold himself back from an outburst.

“You willingly let kids bully y/n because you were scared of the company they keep? Maybe they wouldn’t go out running around in gangs if you looked after the kids that are supposed to be in your care.” Tim says lowly, edging closer to the desk and bracing his hands on it, leaning closer to Stan to get his point across.

“Tim, let’s not do this. Stan, if you think of anything that might help us find y/n’s attacker, give us a call.” Lucy says, gently guiding Tim away from the desk before placing a card down on the desk and leading Tim out of the building.

“y/n is not going back there. I won’t let her.” Tim says the moment they leave the home, practically seething with rage as he makes his way back to the shop.

“I know this home clearly has some serious issues but you won’t be able to just up and move her as easily as you might think,” Lucy says, getting into the vehicle as Tim starts the engine.

“I’ll find a way. I’ll find the ass that hurt her. Find a way to prove Stan doesn’t give a shit about the kids in his care and then I’ll make sure y/n has someplace safe to go to once she’s out of hospital.” Tim says as if he held all the answers in his newly formed plan.

“Okay, you’re getting worked up about this so let’s take lunch and talk this all through. We’ll try and come up with a game plan to find the guy who hurt y/n and after that, we’ll tackle the other problem.” Lucy says calmly, doing what she can to make sure Tim relaxes, knowing he couldn’t go around the neighbourhood with this attitude. At her words, Tim lets out a long sigh before nodding and beginning to drive in the direction of someplace to get food.

After finding a place to have some lunch, Lucy and Tim sit down opposite each other and begin to talk through the minimal facts they have about the case so far.

“She was stabbed in the morning, I’d assume maybe an hour or so before we found her.” Lucy starts, consulting her notebook.

“But she wasn’t stabbed at the park so we can assume she walked from where she was stabbed to the park. Maybe she was looking for help.” Tim says, lifting his drink to take a sip.

“We could radio the unit that arrived on scene after we left and see if there are any blood trails that might help us find where the stabbing happened. Maybe the attacker tried to ditch the weapon nearby.” Lucy muses, leaning back against her chair as she thinks.

“If it’s a gang member I doubt they’d be stupid enough to leave the weapon nearby. But then again there’s always the chance so it might be worth a try.” Tim admits, finishing his food and downing his drink while Lucy does the same. As they dispose of their trash, Tim’s phone rings, making him dig it out of his pocket to answer it while Lucy waits.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Officer Bradford, is that you?” Your quiet voice comes through the other end of the phone, timid as if you were afraid of bothering him.

“y/n, is everything okay?” Tim asks, an instant bout of worry gripping him.

“I’m sorry if I called at a bad time I just… I remembered something about the attack and I don’t know if it’ll help.” You say, and Tim can hear the worry and fear in your voice of potentially being an inconvenience to him.

“No, you’re fine. I’ll swing by the hospital and you can tell me about what it is you remember. Does that sound good?” Tim says gently, doing his best to reassure you over the phone.

“Okay.” You whisper before hanging up the phone and leaving Tim to turn to Lucy.

“Was that y/n?” Lucy asks, studying Tim’s reaction carefully.

“Yeah. She said she remembered some stuff about the attack.” Tim says, shoving his phone in his pocket and making his way towards the shop while Lucy follows behind.

“Do you think this information will help us find her attacker?” Lucy asks as she gets in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to pressure her. But we’ll do what we can with it.” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive, once again, to the hospital.

When they arrived at the hospital, they headed straight to the room you were in and knocked on the door before letting themselves in upon receiving your permission.

“You came.” You said, the smallest, shy smile on your face when you realised that they had come when you asked and both officers had noticed the notebook and pencil you had in hand.

“Of course,” Tim says with a nod and a gentle smile.

“You like drawing?” Lucy asks gently, moving to sit on one of the nearby chairs, easing herself down gently as you shake your head lightly.

“Not really. I just remembered one detail about the guy who attacked me and I figured it would be best if I try to draw it.” You admit, attempting to tidy up the rough sketch on the paper.

“What was the detail?” Tim then asks, easing down into the other chair as they both watch you quietly.

“The guy who attacked me had a scar that looked like this on his hand.” You say, flipping the paper around and showing it to Tim and Lucy.

“That looks like…” Lucy begins.

“A brand.” Tim finishes, glancing from the paper to you as you nod.

“There’s a kid in the home I’m in, Kevin, he’s always acted really weird around me and even asked me out a few times despite knowing how uncomfortable he makes me. I know he’s part of this gang and all the members are branded somewhere on their bodies. I know Kevin definitely wasn’t the guy who stabbed me but I think he asked one of the other members of his gang to hurt me.” You explain as Lucy takes the sketch from you, studying it closely.

“This Kevin, has he ever threatened to hurt you to your face?” Tim asks, already fighting back the seething rage beginning to build up.

“Never outright. But the last time I rejected him he did tell me that I’d regret it.” You say, remembering that moment from a couple of nights ago.

“And did he ever… do anything else?” Tim enquires further, hoping for a specific answer while preparing himself for the worst.

“No. I don’t know if he ever would’ve tried anything, but growing up in that home meant I knew where all the best places to lay low were when he did get extra clingy. And I also try to spend as much time out of the home and away from that neighbourhood as possible.” You explain, fiddling with the corner of the cover laid across you.

“So you believe he told a member of that gang to hurt you because you wouldn’t date him?” Lucy clarifies, feeling her heart break when you nod.

“Okay, we’re going to try to find that kid and talk to him about this gang of his,” Tim states, moving to stand up and exit the room with Lucy following behind.

“Wait!” Your desperate cry stops Tim in his tracks, making him turn to face you.

“What’s wrong?” Tim asks, worried as to why you had reacted like that.

“Don’t tell Kevin or anyone I told you about this. If they find out I squealed… I don’t know what they’ll do to me.” You say, vaguely hearing the increased beeping coming from the heart monitor in your panicked state.

“Hey, y/n, take some deep breaths for me, okay?” Tim quickly strides across the room to you, placing his hands on your shoulders and getting you to look up at him. He takes a few exaggerated deep breaths which you mimic shakily, each breath coming smoother than the last until you’ve regained control of your breathing and your heartbeat has begun to settle into a steady rhythm once more.

“That’s it, kid, just like that.” Tim then praises gently as he feels the tension leaving your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze before releasing his grip. As Tim lets go, you lift your hand to wipe at your suddenly watery eyes, trying not to flinch at the slight pain from the movement.

“We won’t tell anyone there about what you told us. I promise.” Lucy says, knowing that the number one rule of being a police officer was that they couldn’t promise anything but seeing how Tim nodded lightly in agreement confirmed that this was one promise that they could make.

“We’ll go and try and find information. But we won’t mention you at all. They won’t know you told us. Promise.” Tim assures you, stepping back and joining Lucy by the door.

“Hang tight, y/n. We’ll stop that guy.” Lucy says with a soft smile, folding up the sketch she still had in hand and putting it in her pocket with your permission before both she and Tim exit your hospital room, making their way back to their shop to go in search of further answers. They make their way back to the neighbourhood of the children’s home and instead of heading to the children’s home, they do a walk around the area, both of them noticing how people watch them carefully, wary of what they might do.

“Someone around here has to be a part of that gang y/n was talking about, right?” Lucy asks quietly, walking alongside Tim as they observe their surroundings.

“I’d put money on it. But we can’t exactly go up to them and ask. We have to be subtle.” Tim says, noticing how they were beginning to approach two teenage boys who were leaning against a wall, talking amongst themselves.

“Don’t usually get cops around here.” One of the teenagers says, loud enough for Tim and Lucy to hear, making them exchange a quick look before they turn to face the teens.

“We’re patrolling the area. Got a problem?” Tim accuses, folding his arms across his chest as he stares down at the two teenagers.

“Patrolling for what?” The other asks, both of them clearly unafraid of Tim and Lucy’s presence.

“There’s been some incidents around here and we just wanted to make sure everything was okay.” Lucy lies easily, hands resting on her belt as her eyes flick between the two boys.

“Are you accusing us of what happened with that bitch this morning?” One of the teens suddenly becomes accusatory, making Lucy raise her eyebrows in slight shock at the tone.

“No one’s accusing you of anything. In fact, neither of us mentioned an incident this morning. Is there anything you can tell us about it?” Tim then asks cooly, noticing how the teens twitch a little in their realisation about being caught out.

“It wasn’t us.” One of them says, instantly on the defensive, his voice harsh.

“We’re not saying it is you. We’re simply asking if you know anything.” Lucy says, holding a hand out to try and calm the tension she could sense building.

“We don’t know anything.” The other teen says, both of them then turning on their heels and stalking off somewhere else.

“As suspicious as that was. They didn’t do it.” Tim states, letting out a soft sigh and watching them walk away.

“Neither of them had a deep voice. At least not one matching y/n’s description. But did you see-”

“One of them had the brand on his arm. We’re definitely in the right place.” Tim finishes, eyes flicking around the streets in search of other people to question.

“Can I help you, officers? I’m Toby.” A deep voice comes from behind Tim and Lucy, making them exchange a look before they turn to face the owner of the voice. They quickly came face to face with someone who looked to be in his early twenties, he was not much shorter than Tim and they could only assume he did a lot of heavy lifting with how he was built.

“There was a stabbing this morning. A girl about fifteen years old was the victim. Do you know anything about it?” Tim asks smoothly, not showing any signs of suspicion as he watches Toby’s reaction.

“A stabbing? I haven’t heard anything about it.” He says, shrugging lightly before folding his arms across his chest, displaying the brand that you had described on his hand.

“Nothing at all?” Lucy prompts, glancing from Toby to Tim who nods the slightest amount.

“Nothing.” Toby confirms.

“That’s funny. We did some investigating and apparently her attacker was part of the same gang with those exact brands. According to some people we spoke to, the attacker had a deep voice and had a branding scar on his hand. Would you like to revise your answer?” Lucy says, staring down Toby whose calm and collected look shifts and soon a knife is being brandished towards the two of them, making Tim grab Lucy’s arm and pull her behind him.

“She should’ve thought twice before she turned down Kevin. The bitch just got what she deserved.” He says angrily, knife pointed directly at Tim to keep them at a distance.

“I think she’s well within her rights to turn someone down if she doesn’t like them,” Tim says calmly, not wanting to aggravate him any more.

“Kevin is my bro and I’ll look out for him like he’s my own family. If that means getting rid of some bitch who won’t date him then that’s what I’ll do.” Toby says, making Tim clench his jaw.

“Alright. I’ve heard enough.” Tim states, fed up and angered by what he’s been hearing. Without warning, Tim lunged forward, grabbing Toby’a wrist, and twisting it until the knife clattered to the floor before pinning his arm behind his back. Tim then pulls his handcuffs out of his belt and handcuffs his hands together while Lucy radios control to let them know of the situation.

“Grab the knife,” Tim instructs Lucy, already pushing Toby towards the shop while Lucy does what she’s asked. The closer they get to the shop, the more Tim becomes aware of the pairs of eyes watching them. He gets Toby into the shop then both Tim and Lucy get into the front seats.

“Are we going to let y/n know we got the guy?” Lucy asks, briefly glancing back at Toby before looking at Tim who nods lightly.

“Once we’ve processed this asshole I’m going to head back over to the hospital and let her know we’ve caught the guy,” Tim says, starting the engine and beginning the drive over to the station.

“That’s good. I think it’ll be good for her to know.” Lucy agrees, nodding slightly and focusing her attention on the passing scenery.

“You’re wasting an awful lot of time focusing on her. What makes her so important?” Toby grumbles from the backseat.

“No one asked for your input. You and that other kid are the reason she’s in this mess in the first place.” Tim says angrily, eyes flicking up to the rearview mirror to glare at him. The rest of the journey back to the station was relatively quiet, with Toby attempting to speak up every so often, only to be silenced by Tim’s silent glare.

When they made it to the station, Tim and Lucy processed Toby as quickly as possible, practically shoving him into one of the cells the moment they were able to and finish up the paperwork in record time.

“Are you coming with me or not, Boot?” Tim asks, already making his way back towards the shop after finishing processing.

“I’m coming,” Lucy says, rushing to Tim’s side, both of them get back in their shop and make their way back to the hospital. Upon arrival, the hospital seemed much quieter, meaning Tim and Lucy didn’t have to swerve through seas of people to make their way to your room. When they reach your room, they knock once more and enter with permission, both of them smiling at you as they walk in.

“We’ve got some good news,” Lucy says with a smile, noticing how your eyes lit up the slightest bit at her words.

“We apprehended the person who hurt you. He’s not going to get near you again.” Tim says, his smile matching Lucy’s as you smile at their words.

“Thank you.” You whisper, fighting back the threat of teary eyes as the relief sets in.

“We’re just doing our jobs. No need to thank us.” Lucy says softly, approaching the bed and taking your hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m going to open an investigation into the home. See if I can get it closed or something. Or at the very least get you moved somewhere else so you don’t have to deal with that Kevin anymore.” Tim adds, watching as you look from Lucy to him.

“You don’t need to do that.” You start.

“I do. Nothing about that place is safe for you. Even when we do get the okay to arrest Kevin, that home isn’t a stable or safe environment for you. So I want to do what I can to help you out.” Tim says, smoothly cutting you off and stepping closer to your bedside, his gaze soft as he looks down at you.

“I don’t want you guys potentially getting hurt on my behalf.” You mumble, wiping at your eyes with your free hand to prevent any tears from falling.

“Let us worry about ourselves. All you have to do is worry about getting better. We’ll handle everything else.” Tim says reassuringly, his gentle smile calming and encouraging as you take some deep breaths to calm down.

“I owe you both so much.” You say gratefully after you’ve calmed down, smiling shyly at your saviours.

“You don’t owe us anything. We were just doing our jobs.” Lucy says softly, her smile still as gentle as ever. The three of you continued to converse for a few more minutes, both Tim and Lucy noticing how you became more confident in talking to them, but Lucy had noticed how you were more comfortable with Tim. And she hadn’t missed how Tim had practically switched into a whole new man around you. He was much softer and fatherly towards you. After a few minutes, Tim notices the time on his watch and sighs lightly.

“We should head out,” Tim says regrettably, glancing over at Lucy who nods softly.

“Look after yourself y/n,” Lucy says as they cross to the door.

“If I don’t die of boredom first. There’s nothing to do here.” You say with a light chuckle, lying back in the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m sure if you ask a nurse they could find you something to do.” Tim says apologetically, offering the best solution he could think of at the moment before both he and Lucy bid you goodbye and head out to finish the rest of their shifts.

The rest of their shift went smoothly, the only crimes they encountered being things like reckless driving and noise complaints. By the time they had made it back to the station for the end of their shift, Tim wanted to input his request for an investigation into the children’s home you had spent your life in. He wasn’t usually picky about which detectives might take his investigation requests but he wanted to make sure Angela picked up this case. He knew she’d keep him in the loop and let him help out if he wanted. After talking to Angela and getting her on board with looking into the home, Tim thanked her and then headed out to his truck.

On his way back to his house, Tim drove past a store, pulled into the car park and found someplace to park after remembering he needed to pick up a few things. He entered the store, grabbing the things he needed before stumbling across a book aisle in the store. He stood in front of the aisle for a few moments before letting out a soft sigh, digging into his pocket for his phone and stepping into the aisle.

Unbeknownst to Tim, Lucy had also entered the store five minutes after he did, not even aware that Tim was there. She browsed the aisles, searching for what she and Jackson needed until she also found herself by the book aisle. She looked up the aisle and saw Tim standing in front of a selection of books. One hand holding a book, the other holding his phone as he studied the screen intently.

“Looking for book recommendations?” Lucy asks, chuckling to herself when Tim jumps, head whipping around and visibly relaxing upon realising it is Lucy talking to him.

“I was just- y/n mentioned she was bored so I thought I’d grab her a couple of books to give her tomorrow so she can pass the time until she’s out of the hospital,” Tim says, showing Lucy his phone and how he’d been looking up popular books for your age group to pick out the best ones for you.

“Here, let me help.” Lucy offers, taking the book from Tim’s hand, inspecting it quietly before nodding and putting it in Tim’s basket before plucking another book off the shelf, and handing it to Tim to judge after reading the blurb herself.

“You know… you could foster y/n if you wanted.” Lucy says softly after Tim puts the book back, and grabs another to look at.

“What?” Tim asks, no anger behind his voice, but confusion.

“You’re really good with her. It’s clear you care about her and she’s comfortable with you. Fostering her would keep her out of the home while the investigation is ongoing. Plus it would keep her safe and away from that neighbourhood.” Lucy explains herself, watching as Tim falls silent, putting the book he had in his hand in his basket.

“I don’t know. My career isn’t the safest thing in the world and I don’t want someone to potentially use her to get to me.” Tim explains with a sigh.

“I get that. It’s your choice. But she definitely feels safer with you than anyone else.” Lucy says softly, offering Tim one last book before turning on her heels to make her way through the rest of the store, leaving Tim alone.

When Tim gets home, he’s greeted by Kojo who rushes over to Tim happily, demanding to get attention which Tim is more than happy to provide. Once Kojo trots off, happy to entertain himself while Tim unpacks the things he bought. As he unpacks, he sets aside the two books he and Lucy had picked out for you, as well as a few packets of candy and chocolates. Tim was sure he was going overboard but he wanted to make sure that what was left of your hospital stay was pleasant.

After organising everything, Tim makes himself dinner, making sure to feed Kojo while he waits for his food to cook. Once his food is ready, Tim sits himself down to eat and watch the football game he’d been waiting to watch all day. However, as he watched the game, he found himself distracted by the option Lucy had brought up to him at the store. He knew she was right, he couldn’t deny how much he had come to care for you in a short period of time. But he also didn’t want to risk bringing more harm to you through his job. Tim’s focus on the football game began to dwindle as he debated the idea of fostering you back and forth in his head. As if he could sense Tim’s dilemma, Kojo approached Tim, hopping up onto the sofa and resting his head on Tim’s leg, letting out a soft whine while Tim pets his head. Eventually, Tim concluded his internal debate as he was putting his dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Upon finally concluding, Tim grabbed his laptop and returned to the sofa, settling down alongside Kojo once more, opening it and typing in one simple question.

‘How to foster a child?’

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #the rookie #the rookie abc #the rookie fic #the rookie fanfic #tim bradford #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford fic #tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x teen!reader #x teen!reader

421 notes · View notes

solecize · 6 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (4)

ten years of being one and the same with jungkook as the country's it couple is the perfect disguise for the reality of a tumultuous relationship hidden behind the scenes.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: a party at the notorious hotel azure, the hot-spot for the top names of south korea's entertainment industry, goes awry. in front of everyone, your relationship reaches it's breaking point - except, it doesn't. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: idol!jungkook/female idol!reader and fictional versions of various idols 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. idol au, on-and-off relationship, angst, i swear there's fluff, fake dating, and themes of first love, growing up, struggles with fame, and marriage (ish) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. portrayal of a toxic couple (implications of emotional abuse and control), both main characters are very flawed, violence, infidelity, foul language, substance use (illegal drugs) 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. based off of "you're losing me" by taylor swift. this is a fictional portrayal of real-life people that implement some aspects of real-life events. extra warning for heavy substance abuse in this chapter - the usage of this is not meant to be glamourized in any way. i don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so please note the underlying commentary on idol life and substance use. as someone who has been diagnosed with substance use disorder, i encourage learning about its complexities and ending stigma around it. there is also a quick note at the end of the chapter regarding its ending. ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤjoin the taglist here! ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤm.list | previous | next

you might just have dealt the final blow stop, you’re losin’ me

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: big hit entertainment releases a trailer on official youtube channel, announcing bts’ upcoming world tourㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤapril 2018

two years made a night and day difference in your relationship. after the highs and lows that brought several short-term breakups, 2018 was supposed to be your and jungkook’s year. it was a fresh start and the turn of your early twenties was the world at your fingertips. young, beautiful and wealthy - it was a dream for any idol in south korea.

a fresh start wasn’t always easy when skeletons lurked in your closet, though. watching your boyfriend pace back and forth in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey on the rocks at hand, jungkook looked completely different. you weren’t sure if you’d finally snapped out of the daze that framed him as a teenager, bursting with energy, but things hadn’t been the same in a long time.

“yeah, y/n is coming with me,” you heard him say, your ears perking up at the sound of your name. it was hard to read his tone, but something told you that the person on the other end was surprised at his statement.

he finally noticed that you walked into the room, having finished slipping on your coat. jungkook sighed, tilting back the last of his drink and telling the person on the phone that he had to go. his furrowed eyebrows were telling enough that he was annoyed with you.

“what? i only took an hour,” you said, walking over from the doorway of his bathroom.

jungkook rolled his eyes. “an hour after the party started. let’s get going, the boys said they’re waiting for us,” he complained. “you’re the one who insisted on coming with me, anyway.”

at that, you didn’t say anything because you knew it would only escalate into an argument. jungkook had been recently accusing you of being overly controlling when it came to hanging out with his friends, which led to an invite to tonight’s party to be extended to you, as well.

however, parties at places like hotel azure were now a routine for you and jungkook, which was one of the only things that was constant against change in the past two years. with fame came notoriety and after clawing your way up the social ladder amongst the country’s musical elite, invitations to galas and lounges and the vip section of the club came left and right. everyone now knew you as one of the idol power couples behind the curtain and your respective presences were expected at events.

a molasses-like tension sat in the air when it came to this. although you and jungkook were known as one, it wasn’t easy to ignore jungkook’s individual stardom that garnered mass attention. his biggest supporter, you loved this for him - until you didn’t. he would jet off to tokyo and shanghai to party with a-listers and meet new people everywhere he went. he was rising before your very eyes and you couldn’t help but feel left behind.

“did you not tell them we got back together?” you suddenly asked, trailing out the front door with an impatient jungkook.

he only shrugged. it was hard to keep up when you and jungkook had taken several sporadic “breaks” over the last year. as a couple, you showed your best and smiled in front of everyone. however, your friends were the ones who would witness arguments in the corner of the room or furious frenzies of text arguments whilst working.

it was hard to manage a relationship that was akin to a fire - passionate, but ready to set ablaze at all times.

you weren’t sure how you and jungkook got to this point. you were no longer kids who only had each other. it could’ve been so many things - age, fame, money. there were other underlying issues that came with all these things. after all, by the time you were sat in the car, the first flask was already finished between you and him.

the drive to hotel azure was a blur and before you knew it, you were taking shots with kim yoojung and suzy in the penthouse suite. jungkook had walked away with his friends upon entering the party and it was already a lost idea to find him. you exchanged few words on the way to the venue, as he seemed to still be frustrated with you for a variety of reasons.

besides, it was a jackson wang party. the suite was filled to the brim with the who’s who of the entertainment industry, all mingling and dancing in an exalted existence that only celebrities enjoyed. others were outside at the rooftop pool, basking in the first of the year’s warm air. there were too many things going on at once.

the only warmth you were concerned with was the hot sensation spreading throughout your body from hennessy. “how’s the filming of your new show?” you asked suzy, who was now flushed from the round of drinks.

“exhausting. how’s the recording of your new album?” she sighed.

“exhausting.”

a murmur of agreement ensued. that was why everyone was gathering - an escape from the fastlane of their lives. the industry was draining and every forced smile for the cameras only weighed heavier on someone.

“that nct member your boyfriend is friends with was passing out xans,” warned yoojung, poking your side.

a year ago, you would have made a scene. now jaded and long given up on trying to knock some sense into him, you peeked over yoojung’s shoulder to check out the hallway ahead. turning back to the other two women, you already made up your mind.

“the bathroom over there is free,” was all you had to say and with you swiping your clutch off the counter, they knew what you were thinking. they knew what was in its contents.

you had to - it was a jackson wang party. ironically, you were never able to recall actually seeing jackson at his parties. really, you weren’t able to recall much in general the day after for certain reasons and tomorrow was looking no different when you busted out of the bathroom minutes later, giggling and brushing off your clothes. at the very least, you knew that you weren’t looking out of place, especially if what yoojung said was true. everyone in the room could afford the best to use, so why wouldn’t they?

“we should go to the pool!”

it didn’t take much convincing for you to be dragged outside, as the high was settling in and you suddenly became a social butterfly. the three of you arrived poolside, where you were greeted by more of your peers. you wouldn’t call them your friends.

the exception was jimin, who you were surprised to see. he was very amicable and well-liked amongst social circles, but wild parties were never quite his scene. some of jungkook’s group mates had an affinity for nights out, but you and jungkook attended a specific genre of parties that the others didn’t vibe with on the regular.

you smiled a little too wide. “jimin!”

the group you approached sat poolside on a couch, as jimin scooted over to make room for. you barely fit, but he made sure to make it work for one of his best friends’ girlfriend. stumbling a bit when you squeezed past others’ knees, he offered his arm to help steady you.

“hey, y/n. jungkook went somewhere else?” he asked slowly, examining your face.

jimin had a beer in his hand and appeared significantly more sober than the other partygoers, who were now immersed back into their previous conversation after your arrival. suzy and yoojung were laughing with the others, probably now too high and drunk to even remember that they walked over with you. meanwhile, jimin had his jacket on, as if he was right about to leave until you came outside. his mind was changed when he saw how wasted you were.

you looked around, hoping the fresh air would help you focus. “mmm, yeah. think he’s with jaehyun.”

it didn’t. it also felt like hours since you last spotted your boyfriend, but you were having fun. however, that wasn’t what jimin was concerned about.

“you’re doing okay?” jimin questioned, a frown tugging at his lips.

if it wasn’t someone like jimin who knew you well, it wouldn’t be so obvious that you were now quite inebriated. your giggles were a little too loud and you would never stumble in high heels sober.

when you didn’t answer, jimin finished the last of his drink and set it on the table in front of you before standing up. there was a glint of worry in his eyes.

he said, “stay right there. i’m going to get you some water and find jungkook.”

truthfully, you didn’t want him to locate your boyfriend, but jimin was already off. you huffed some hair out of your face. you didn’t think you were in that bad of a shape.

now that there was room on the couch, you were able to move over. when jimin left, you noticed that the girl next to you was watching the interaction the entire time. she was young and the doe-like expression on her face read that this was her first time at hotel azure. she was dressed to the nines and carried herself with energy.

“hi, you’re nova!” it was more of an exclaimation than a question, when she smiled at you.

your mood dampened at this. you did not have time to be entertaining whatever lucky rookie idol she was, probably scoring a luky invite. you also despised being called your stage name when you weren’t in front of a camera or fans. however, you put on your best plastered on smile.

“hi. you are?” you asked, wanting to try to be polite.

she ignored it. “wow, so it’s true then?” she asked. “you’re dating jungkook! and you were just talking to jimin, you must be so close with all of bts!”

it was like an immediate headache onset, as you tried not to wince at her nearly screaming into your ear. the music was loud, but not that loud. at least she acknowledged you first, some people often went all in by just talking about jungkook. you would have engaged in actual conversation with her if she didn’t ignore your first attempt.

“y/n, try this!”

a red solo cup was pushed in front of your face and you didn’t think twice about taking a sip. anything to not hear the girl drone on about your boyfriend. it was sour and medicinal at the same time, causing you to make a face. the actor who passed it to you chuckled, as you gave it back.

you coughed. “that was disgusting.”

for some reason, the smell of the drink alone made your head hurt. you mumbled an ‘excuse me’ at the young idol, who was still talking about bts the entire time that interaction with the drink happened, and got up. your legs were weak.

for a while, you were walking around with no purpose, observing those around you blankly. when the drinks and the drugs and the desire to fit in faded away, it was boring.

you wondered if you actually liked being at these parties or if you were there just because. the “just because” could have been anything - just because it was expected by your circle, just because it was the only way to let out steam from the demands of your job. maybe even. . .just because of jungkook.

“looking for your boyfriend?”

at some point, you wandered over to the shadowy corner of the rooftop, where someone was smoking a joint. you tried your best to recall his name, as you’d just been on a variety show with him, but the best you could do was remember that he was a member of winner. you winced at yet another mention of jungkook, but ignored it again.

he held the joint out as an offer and you accepted without hesitation, letting the smoke fill your insides. it was easy to ignore the burn in your throat when you’d already been putting random substances into your body since the night began.

“not really,” you admitted, though you did scan the crowd when you did.

he cocked an eyebrow. “oh? aren’t you two always hand in hand at these things?” he made a gesture, referring to the party as a whole.

a year or two ago, you would have spent the entire party on jungkook’s lap and exclusively mingled and drank from that same spot. as time went on and jungkook began attending parties and clubs without you, it was a growing occurrence that you began doing your own thing when you appeared with him.

“dunno,” was all you could say, not wanting to talk more about it.

it appeared that he got the hint, dropping the subject of jungkook. instead, he failed to hide the once over he made of your appearance and you fought a shiver. you felt like you were naked under his stare, as your skin-tight maxi dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. you never felt unsafe to wear what you wanted on a night out - albeit, your boyfriend was usually with you.

“you cold? want my jacket, sweetie?” he asked, sugar lacing every one of his words.

that’s when you became alert, despite your body’s lack of sobriety working against you. he had taken a half-step towards you and you instantly stepped backwards. you’d never been so uncomfortable, but it was a struggle to steady yourself.

you mustered up some solidity in your voice. “no. you can back up now,” you said, handing the joint back to him. “thanks.”

he didn’t get the hint. “then, do you wanna go inside with me? where’s it’s warmer?”

the smirk on his face sent off alarms in your head, as you continued to walk away, he still remained close to you when you did.

“i said i’m good. you’re getting weird, so back up,” you repeated, eyes darting around to see if anyone would step in.

instead, everyone was still lost in their own worlds. some people were laughing away, trashing the bar on the other end of the rooftop. the people you were with on the couch were taking shots. nobody was noticing the interaction between you and this man.

when he took a firm grip on your arm, you thought you were about to throw up. you noticed that you hadn’t even been walking straight and when you blinked, he was already in front of you. your words couldn’t find themselves when you saw double everywhere you turned. you were fucked and you couldn’t even defend yourself.

then, it happened.

when you jumped at the sound of a sudden impact, you thought that you were the one who fell down. but, there was no pain. there was a round of gasps. there was yelling. there was a body on the ground and it was the man’s.

“are you fucking crazy?! don’t you put your dirty ass hands on her ever again or i’ll kill you with my bare hands, asshole!”

the voice belonged to jungkook. it was the first time you’d seen him all night. he was standing over the man’s body, yelling further profanities at him. you saw red - both on his knuckles and in his bloodshot eyes.

you let out a scream when the man suddenly got to his feet, lunging at jungkook. this was when others ran in, straining to peel their two bodies away from each other.

people stopped to watch, but it was almost dystopian to see that some didn’t even care. they continued taking shots and smoking their joints. it was a daze of glimmer and drugs that only existed in the penthouse suite of hotel azure - where the rich and famous didn’t have time for scuffles.

“jungkook, stop!” you screeched, your voice cracking and tears welling up in your eyes.

it took three people to pull jungkook alone, as others also came to the rescue of the other man. jaehyun and yugyeom each clutched onto one of jungkook’s arms, while bambam stood between the two. it looked like they had all chased jungkook from inside the penthouse, who had slammed the sliding door open.

when jungkook picked up a glass beer bottle in his rage, you almost ran in yourself. he’d swatted jaehyun and yugyeom’s grips away to do so. thankfully, it was jimin who dashed in to swipe the object away from jungkook’s grasp, before the situation escalated to disastrous.

if jimin didn’t wrestle the weapon out of jungkook’s hands, it would have been detrimental beyond saving.

“you piece of shit!” snarled the man, who spat in jungkook’s direction. “your little girlfriend should know how much of a piece of shit you are, too!”

at that, you froze. jungkook only narrowed his eyes at him, as if daring him to continue. the next few moments didn’t seem real. his friends took the opportunity to take hold of him again, now with bambam joining in and trying to talk some sense into him.

“kook, calm down. seriously, you need to just - “

jungkook shot back, ignoring bambam. “you better shut your fucking mouth.” through gritted teeth, he kept urging for jaehyun and yugyeom to let go of him, which they thankfully didn’t.

he only chuckled and your heart dropped when he turned to you. “nah, you must already know he’s a piece of shit. you must be cool with that and with the fact that he’s fucking his backup dancer.”

what he said was loud and clear, but you didn’t even register it. you thought you were dreaming. you didn’t know what to do.

betrayal had a funny effect on people and on you, it was seething fury.

if you were sober, it would have been your turn to lunge at someone. you considered it and decided that it wasn’t a bad idea. taking off your heels and making strides towards the man, nobody expected you to clock the man right in the jaw. he yelped, stumbling backwards from the impact. in your state, you only just realized that you’d actually hit him with one of your shoes.

“that was for me, you creep,” you hissed, as he cussed loudly at his now bloody nose.

you even pondered pushing him into the pool, but decided it wasn’t worth it. the adrenaline in your veins - and whatever other substances were in there - wasn’t enough to distract you from the pit in your stomach from what the man said. something in you didn’t even consider the possibility of it being untrue - your gut told you otherwise.

you stared at jungkook, searching for any rebuttal. however, you knew the look on his face. it was the truth. not once did jungkook even try to dispute the accusation. your anger died down now and you were left feeling like you were floating. this couldn’t be real.

it was now jungkook’s turn to stand frozen. you didn’t have time for this or for him. even his friends were frozen and you didn’t know what emotions were on their faces. shocked, but at what? that he was cheating on you or that he just got exposed? reality was beginning to sink in and the only thing you knew was that you needed to get out of there. you thought you looked like the biggest joke in the world, whether his friends knew about it or not.

“what do you think you’re doing? go after her!”

that was jimin’s voice, horrified that his friend was just passively watching you run out of there. jungkook finally made a sprint for it. you’d pushed past several people and jungkook didn’t catch up to you until you reached the elevator.

your vision was waning and the source could have been either the situation or your body finally giving up on you from what you had consumed all night. you needed to sit down. hurriedly, you jammed the button to close the elevator door, but a hand stuck out to force it open.

jungkook was pleading. “y/n, just one second - “

“no, get away from me.”

“look, let’s talk! please!” he cried, trying to enter the elevator with you.

at this point, you were shoving him away. you didn’t care, you needed him out of your face before you began crying. he wasn’t fighting back at all, letting you continuously push him, but didn’t move an inch.

“you’re scum to me,” you growled, eventually giving up and tripped backwards from your own force.

the elevator closed and for thirteen long floors, it was just you and him in that one space.

“please, let’s communicate - isn’t that what you always wanted for us?” jungkook said and did his best to get you to meet his eyes. “bug, come o -”

the fire in your eyes was nothing like he’d ever seen before from you. “don’t you dare call me that ever again!”

bug was his special name for you, short for lovebug. you used to get upset when he would call you your full name over bug. in that moment, it sickened you to hear it.

everything began clicking in your head. the way he rarely called you when he was on tour. the slow buildup of disinterest in your wellbeing. going to places that he always went to without you. being secretive of what he was doing on his phone. this behaviour multiplied recently and with another world tour for bts lined up, you now knew why.

jungkook was living an entirely different life away from you. you just thought he would never have it in him. not the kind and sweet jungkook you met all those years ago.

you ripped off the tennis bracelet from your wrist, which jungkook had given you for your eighteenth birthday. a look of defeat rested on his face when you hurled it at him, which he didn’t even bother to dodge. he knew he deserved it.

the elevator dinged and you made a beeline for the first door you saw. you weren’t even running, but jungkook dashed to meet you there. you let out a cry of frustration when he stood right in front of you, blocking the entrance.

“move or you’ll regret it.”

he ignored you and you instead side-stepped away, using all your energy to exit through the next door before jungkook could realize. he tried blocking you again, but only caught a bit of your force because you were too fast.

the entire time this was happening, you’d been trying to dial someone, anyone. none of your group mates were answering. you didn’t have any friends that weren’t at the party upstairs. the last resort was your manager, who you were about to call, when jungkook stood in front of you again.

“y/n, please. i’ll get on my knees if i have to,” jungkook begged and you could see that he was fighting tears. “please, i just want to talk.”

however, you could also see that jungkook was far from sober. he was in a worse state than you were. a bruise was to soon form on his jaw and his hair was disheveled. it was the lowest you’d ever seen him.

for a split second, you tried. you wanted to try and see the boy you fell in love with all those years ago. you searched and searched.

“what? i’ve asked you for years to communicate in this relationship and it only becomes important after you cheat on me?”

jungkook knew he was defeated, but he still looked at you with those same pleading eyes. “i know i don’t deserve you - “

“i don’t even recognize you!” you interrupted. “i don’t even know who you are!”

both of you knew that you were right. something went wrong along the way. you were barefoot and exhausted, no longer with light in your eyes. jungkook was pitiful and lost - lost in his fame, in the parties, and from you.

that night at hotel azure should have been the end. the storybook fairytale should have been over. in that moment, you would have even moved as far as you could and ran away from the dread of the life you were living. you gave up that night.

unfortunately, in the craze of the night’s events and the substances swimming in your bodies, both you and jungkook forgot who and where you were.

TOP HEADLINE TODAY: breaking news! dispatch releases exclusive photos of bts’ jungkook and s.iren’s nova, reveals that they are dating

you’d been in the big hit company building countless of times over the years, but would have never imagined yourself sitting in their board room with their most senior executives. to make matters worse, several high-ranking representatives from your company sat in the same room, including your ceo and your own manager. at the head of the table were you and jungkook, both stone-faced and unable to look at each other.

entering the room, you considered yourself all alone. your manager was pissed off at you. your group mates hadn’t spoken to you since the news broke, except for sooah. she only warned you to make sure that nobody knew you were high when it happened. the last thing the group needed was an additional scandal where their main vocalist gets sentenced to prison for possession. and, of course, you now had no boyfriend. there was nobody there for you.

“they’ve been building evidence for a long time now, clearly.”

to make matters more humiliating, the company executives were broadcasting the dispatch article on the big screen in front of everyone. the head of public relations, mr. lee, swiped through each photo released like a slideshow.

the first picture was you and jungkook outside of your building complex. another was a sneaky shot that barely captured you and jungkook in the same taxi. it went on and on, until the last photo that depicted you and jungkook standing in front of hotel azure, which was less than twenty-four hours ago at this point.

after escaping the party and jungkook, you spent the rest of your night crying and throwing up at home. it was late when you left and you knew you couldn’t sleep a wink after what transpired. you tried your very best and it was seven in the morning when you thought your eyes were finally closing, until your phone began blowing up.

at first, it was just your manager and you didn’t want to hear about how she found out that you were partying late again. then, not even an hour after, your social media began blowing up with notifications.

i was trying to warn you, the last text from your manager read. you realized what she was talking about, as dispatch probably gave the “courtesy” to inform the company before the article went out.

you thought about your group members, feeling nothing but guilt. you saw what happened to other female idols, whose dating scandals tarnished their “sisterhood” with their members forever. you were terrified of that happening to you.

now, you sat in this suffocating board room, still hungover, and your entire future at stake. the only thing you felt regretful about was not just the impact of your choices on both your group members, but the rest of jungkook’s. they were one of the, if not the, most popular groups in the country.

while the room went over the pictures that were released, you were silent. you long understood the consequences of the relationship and accepted the risk. when the scandal actually broke, though, the fear you felt was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. on the other hand, jungkook was only apologizing profusely and was in tears. you didn’t realize it until then, but there were also streams of tears running down your face.

you weren’t sure what the main reason for your tears were. something told you that you’d yet to process the grief of jungkook’s betrayal because sitting next to him felt numb. last night, only anger settled underneath your skin. now, being inches away from the man you called your best friend and partner for years, you felt nothing. it was almost an out-of-body experience.

the only way to not replay every single moment he was with her and not you, was to repress the grief. you pretended like it was invisible and out of reach. with that, you figured the tears were for the innocent third parties that were going to be dragged down by the scandal - the executives in the room, jungkook’s group, your group, all of them.

“quit crying! we have no choice, there’s too much evidence - we must publicly confirm the relationship.”

you took a deep breath. right now, you had yet to actually tell anyone that you and jungkook were no longer together. a part of you was too embarrassed to admit that you were cheated on. you also figured that word from the scene at the rooftop party likely already spread throughout social circles. you decided to swallow it down and finally say it aloud.

this was the first time that you spoke up. “but,” you started, “jungkook and i. . .we broke up last night.”

the last thing you expected was a round of laughter. you thought you were imagining it, but when you looked up, the board members were indeed doing so. you were suffering enough, but now you were getting laughed at. your fists were balled up underneath the table.

“are you kidding me?” mr. lee said. “i don’t care. years ago, you and jungkook agreed that, should your relationship be exposed, you would face the repercussions of its reception.”

“mr. lee - “ jungkook started, but was hushed by his company executives.

when mr. lee tapped on his laptop again and cut to the comments section of the article, you thought you would see hate comments. death threats, even. but, you were stunned to face waves of positivity.

the tone he used, though, was devoid of any. “oh, i love this couple so much,” mr. lee began reading the comments in a monotone voice that only made the situation feel even more of a joke. “wah. they. are. such. a. beautiful. couple. i’m not even mad.”

you swore your eyes were deceiving you. stealing your first glance at jungkook since walking into the room, he, too, was shocked and his jaw hung low.

“talk about a power couple, congratulations! here, someone said: hope this is true, nova is luckiest girl in the world - love this. then, a bunch of good luck’s, and blah, blah, blah.”

there was a wave of anger when most of the comments called you the lucky one and not once the other way around.

regardless, the reception of international fans was generally uplifting, which was no surprise to you. what really got to you was that it didn’t stop there - the screen scrolled past dozens and dozens of korean comments that exemplified full support towards the relationship. this was a true mark of positive reception, as they were the fans you feared the most.

as the years went on and jungkook rose in popularity, you became increasingly nervous about your relationship. you watched so many of your peers receive horrible backlash from fans after being exposed for dating, especially the women. being a female in the industry was hard enough and you weren’t sure if you were going to be one of the strong ones in this situation.

“so that your fans don’t feel ‘betrayed’, we are going to let the media know that you have been dating for a few months - don’t even think about telling people that you’ve been together since 2013,” mr. lee announced, which snapped you back to the conversation.

you dared to speak again. “mr. lee, jungkook and i have broken up,” you reiterated, wondering if nobody heard you the first time.

he rolled his eyes. “i understand. do you also understand that this reaction is basically unheard of? have you noticed that you’ve gained almost a million followers on instagram?”

this time, it was the public relations representative from big hit that cleared her throat and stood up. she joined mr. lee in front of the board members, who began murmuring in approval amongst themselves.

“jungkook. y/n. as you know, the love yourself world tour was just announced. s.irens is also preparing for a major comeback and potential tour. this relationship,” she said, “will be used to accelerate the successes of both of your groups.”

a chart appeared on the screen. it showed data from the last twenty-four hours, including both group’s increase in social media numbers, streams, and search engine hits.

“consider it an exchange for breaching your no-dating clause five years ago. until further notice, this relationship, at least in the eyes of the public, will remain.”

this had to be a joke. however, you remembered what you and jungkook were. you were idols. you were puppets of the machine that was the korean entertainment industry. chess pieces. no matter how rich or famous either of you got, it all boiled down to this.

the fame game was one that was never won.

jungkook said, slowly, “you’re asking us to date. . .as a publicity stunt?”

at this, you had no choice. a few individuals in the room, including jungkook, jumped when you shot up from your seat. you rose in order to bow at a ninety degree angle in front of all the senior executives, ignoring how sick you were to your stomach.

“please,” you began, eyes squeezed shut. “i want nothing to do with jeon jungkook.”

of course, the decision was already made and your pleas were dismissed. however, you didn’t see the way jungkook watched you beg your company to not force you in a relationship with a man you no longer loved. his mouth went dry and there’d never been such a moment in his life where he hated himself more. he did this. he pushed you to this point and he betrayed you.

from that moment on, jungkook saw this as an opportunity. he destroyed everything that you and he had ever built. now, the only thing he ever sought from this point on, was redemption.

even though your companies informed you two that you could publicly “breakup” following a year post-dispatch release, jeon jungkook never lost sight of the redemption he sought. they wanted you to be the so-called it couple of the industry and he decided he would do them one better and make it real. for the next year, jungkook would do everything in his power to win you back.

LATEST NEWS: bts’ jungkook and s.irens’ nova confirms their relationship! read more about big hit’s response: “they met as friends and the connection blossomed from there”

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. for clarity purposes (because i feel like the non-chronological format may get confusing), y/n and jungkook get back together during this publicity stunt and are 100% for real dating in chapter 1. the publicity stunt arc is covered in chapters 6-8, as the next chapter focuses on why/how their relationship began breaking down before the hotel azure incident.

#jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook series #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts x reader #bts au #bts series #bts angst

492 notes · View notes

askmrtorgue · 1 year ago

Text

HEY! YOU THERE! WANT TO PLAY A TABLETOP ADVENTURE WITH A PROFESSIONAL STORYTELLER?

I'M MISTER TORGUE, AND THE NERD WHO HELPS ME LOG INTO THIS ACCOUNT ASKED ME TO DO AN AD FOR HIS SERVICES. I TOLD HIM I WOULD, BUT ONLY IF I GOT TO WRITE IT MYSELF. SO STRAP IN, DUMPSUCKS. IT'S PRODUCT PLACEMENT TIME:

DO YOU WANT TO PLAY DUNGEONS & DRAGONS BUT YOU CAN'T FIND SOMEONE TO RUN YOUR GAMES?

ARE YOU FED UP WITH A GAME MASTER WHO WON'T LET YOU STRAIGHT-UP MAKE OUT WITH THE VILLAINS OF THEIR STORY?

DO YOU WANT WANT TO LEARN TABLETOP RPGS BUT EVERYONE WHO TRIES TO EXPLAIN IT USES THINGS LIKE MATH AND SPREADSHEETS AND YOU CAN'T STOP THEM BECAUSE FATAL SUPLEXES ARE ILLEGAL ON YOUR PLANET?

THEN YOU NEED BENCOMPETENCE, PROFESSIONAL STORYTELLER AND GAME MASTER.

BRAOOWWWWW-CHICKABRAOW EXPLOSION NOISE HEREEEEEEEE!

BENCOMPETENCE HAS RUN OVER 100 PROFESSIONAL GAMES OF TABLETOP GAMES, INCLUDING DUNGEONS & DRAGONS, CITY OF MIST AND MORE. HE HAS 100% POSITIVE REVIEWS FROM HIS CLIENTS, WHICH IS PROBABLY MORE THAN 34%.

NOT ONLY DOES BEN OWN A PAIR OF CAT-EAR HEADPHONES, HE EXCELS AT RIPPING YOUR HEART STRAIGHT OUT OF ITS RIBCAGE USING NOTHING BUT COMPELLING, ROMANCEABLE CHARACTERS AND BADASS EPIC ADVENTURES. IN FACT, EVEN HIS VILLAINS ARE SEXY AS F*CK. JUST CHECK OUT THIS VAMPIRE FROM ONE OF HIS CAMPAIGNS:

THIS DEATH DADDY IS ABSOLUTELY ABOUT TO KILL ME AND I DON'T GIVEN EVEN A SINGLE F*CK.

NOT YOUR STYLE? NO PROBLEM, PLAYER, HE ALSO OFFERS TERRIFYING MURDER MOMMIES!

THIS WOMAN COULD DRINK MY BLOOD AND I WOULD SAY "THANK YOU"

OR MAYBE IT'S TIME TO EMBRACE EVERYONE'S TRUE SECRET DESIRE:

BE A MAGICAL GIRL THAT'S BAD AT ROMANCE!!!

BENCOMPETENCE ALSO HAS THIRSTY SWORD LESBIANS, A GAME ABOUT BADASS SWORDFIGHTS AND WARFARE IN THE GREATEST BATTLEFIELD OF ALL: THE HEART

WHEN OH WHEN WILL THESE TWO INCREDIBLE WOMEN ADMIT THEIR FEELINGS FOR ONE ANOTHER!??!!?

OR MAYBE YOU WANT TO KICK ASS, PACIFIST STYLE, IN THE NEW BLUE BOX ADVENTURES?!

TIME TO GO HIGH FIVE A DINOSAUR AND MAKE OUT WITH ALIENS!!!

BENCOMPETENCE'S GAMES ARE INCLUSIVE AF AND BEGINNER-FRIENDLY, BECAUSE GATEKEEPING IS FOR SH*THEELS AND TRASHGUZZLERS. WHETHER YOU'RE BRAND NEW OR HAVE PLAYED A QUILLION SESSIONS, YOU WILL BE RIGHT AT HOME. ALL THAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU GET IN THERE AND KICK THE NARRATIVE'S ASS RIGHT IN ITS D*CK.

HE EVEN HOSTS SEMINARS THAT TEACH YOU TO BE A BETTER ROLEPLAYER OR GAME MASTER!!

HE ALSO ASKED ME TO TELL YOU THAT SESSION 0'S ARE FREE, AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT MEANS!

WANT TO JOIN A TABLE? THEN LISTEN UP, F*CKTRUCKS, BECAUSE IT'S LIST TIME:

FIGHT OR MAYBE MAKE OUT WITH HOT EVIL VAMPIRES IN CURSE OF STRAHD (NOW AVAILABLE IN DEATH DADDY AND MURDER MOMMY)

I AM NOW STARING AT THE VAMPIRE AGAIN AND FORGOT THE NEXT BULLET POINT

JOIN THIRSTY SWORD LESBIANS AND BE AS BAD AT ROMANCE AS YOU ARE GOOD AT KICKING ASS

JUMP INTO THE BLUE BOX AND EXPLORE ALL OF TIME AND SPACE

SOMETHING ABOUT LEARNING HOW TO BE A BETTER ROLEPLAYER IN A PERSONALIZED LECTURE

THERE'S A LOT MORE TO SAY, BUT THE NERD WRITING THIS SCRIPT STARTED TALKING ABOUT CHARACTER SHEETS AND SOMETHING CALLED NARRATIVE AGENCY, SO I HAD TO BEAT HIM WITH A FOLDING CHAIR UNTIL HE STOPPED. YOU CAN HELP PAY FOR THE BODYCAST I PUT HIM IN BY SIGNING UP TODAY!

END OF ADVERTISEMENT.

2K notes · View notes

ghoulphile · 7 months ago

Text

i want this man to do gross, disrespectful, unspeakable, borderline illegal things to me

⭐ inbox | discord | ao3 ⭐ requests: temporarily closed | tag lists: open last updated | 6/6/24 notes | i'll update this post as i continue to write. fics will be 18+ unless stated otherwise ❤️ requests closed so i can catch up on the ones already submitted - will be opening up again soon!

🍒 sticky fingers the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

“Lil girls should know it’s rude ta steal.”

🍒 janey's dad cooper howard x reader two-shot, part one | 18+

“We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

🍒 run rabbit run the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time

🍒 in the middle of the night the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

Cooper watching you sleep. Its a quiet night. nothing but bugs passing by. Cooper keeps watching, and his mind wanders. cut to him "borrowing" your soft and smooth hand, pulling it from under your makeshift blanket and wrapping it on his dick, jacking himself with your hand bc he's bored/trying to pass the time/stay awake

🍒 wish you'd make me cry the ghoul x reader drabble, request | 18+

"You’re such a needy fucking brat." :3c

🍒 dog days pre-war cooper howard x reader fluff, request

I was wondering if you'd write something about maybe prewar/postwar (either one) cooper where his love is a bit sick (not life threateningly so ect) and he just takes good care of them

🍒 it's always the quiet ones pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble | 18+

We can see that Cooper tends to go for good girls but what if he ran into a seemingly innocent - or at the very least kind - person… but they dirty talk like a sinner in the sack?

🍒 no use cryin' over spilled milk the ghoul x reader one-shot | 18+

based off this ask; trying to survive topside after growing up in a vault is hard enough, but doing it five months pregnant? it's a good thing you find the ghoul when you do.

🍒 i can taste your skin in my teeth the ghoul x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

drabble request thingy: "you're so wet and I haven't even touched you" and/or "aww... you're pathetic" I feel like these go so well together in a very mean(super hot) way >:)

🍒 use me pre-war cooper howard x reader drabble request, wip | 18+

for the drabble request "I want to use you so fucking bad" with pre bomb coop?

🍒 don't threaten me with a good time the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

how do you think our ghoul would handle having a breeding kink?

🍒 in the collision of your kiss pre-war cooper howard x reader wip | 18+

"As I live and breathe, that's Cooper Howard! Why, he must've cost a fortune -- how ever did you get him to agree to attend a children's party?"

🍒 criminal tongues the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Could I get and aggressive smut with coop like he hasn't had any in 200 something years ! Hes needy and wants it NOW

🍒 finders, keepers the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

Cooper wants people to know the reader is *his*, and she best damn well know it to. If she doesn't, he'll have to show her

🍒 god is a woman pre-war cooper howard x reader request, wip | 18+

If you don't mind of making cooper howard/the ghoul being submissive or treating reader like a goddess of a smut?

🍒 bury all your secrets in my skin the ghoul x reader request, wip | 18+

I was thinking how it would be to be the first to get him to take all his clothes off since the bombs fell. Being the first to get him to be vulnerable in this way. If you would write this I would be very grateful.

#masterlist #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader

778 notes · View notes

lovlidollie · 2 months ago

Text

these pics are just the epitome of frat!rafe. he’s constantly manspreading whenever he’s seated, douchey cap either pulled low on his head or flipped backwards. you can always find him wearing a white wifebeater or a tom ford polo, rollie proudly displayed on his wrist. he knows he’s hot and he knows how to use it to his advantage ! he’s such a slut !!! literally ran through lmao there’s not one girl he hasn’t messed with.

he’s got one of three hairstyles; a buzz, an undercut with greasy bangs, or a mullet. and you best believe he pulls all three of them off. frat!rafe is one of those jerks that shows up at sorority bikini carwash fundraisers so he can wolf-whistle at them and wink as he signals them to call him.

vocab consists of diff variations of “bro,” “dude,” “my guy,” “word,” “yo,” and he most definitely overuses the word “like.” he’s the type of guy to call professors by their first name, disrupt the class, and then beg for better grades in the middle of said disrupted class.

prolific snapchat user. snapscore is atrocious and he has streaks going with at least 7 girls at any given time. sends out a ‘u up?’ text at least twice a week. sometimes he’ll leave a girl on delivered for hours - sometimes days - just because he can. when he finally replies it’s usually a blurry snap of his face or a shameless thirst trap with a “mb was busy”.

when a girl finally realises that he’s playing her, he just laughs it off. if they’re upset he says, “i was just messing around,” or “you knew what you were getting into.” he doesn’t take responsibility for any emotional damage because in his head, he never promised anyone anything.

his ig captions .. are something. obviously there’s the infamous ‘grind never stops,’ and a ‘#blessed’. posts gym mirror selfies where he’s flexing his abs, pecs or biceps in a way that seems casual, but in reality he’s spent 20 minutes trying to find the perfect angle and lighting. captions them with things like ‘gains,’ or ‘rest days are for pussies’.

rides around in his obnoxiously loud truck, revving constantly and disturbing everyone in the area. he’s always blasting rap music at full volume, and of course he’s modified the vehicle. the truck’s lifted, with big off-road wheels, a custom exhaust, and a tint that borders on illegal. frat!rafe takes pride in parking it across 2 spots, and he’s always talking about its specs; “blah blah this much horsepower blah blah v8 engine blah blah”. it’s a sore sight at all the parties with the bed of the truck more often than not being used to perform keg stands.

388 notes · View notes

darnell-la · 12 days ago

Note

What about Wade and Logan watching Vanessa and Reader pole dancing together and the boys getting all hot and bothered by watching?

note: overload — that’s all you guys need to know.

———

“Aren’t you excited!? Your long-time, short-time crush is going to dance in front of us tonight with my long-time and short-term fiancé,”

As soon as the two entered the bar, Wade couldn’t stop teasing Logan about the fact that this young lady he’s been crushing on for a while, will be dancing tonight.

“She just started yesterday, why would she already be on stage?” Logan sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe because she’s the hottest worker, right after my fiancé!?”

Logan glared at Wade, making him put his hands up in a surrendering passion.

“Look, don’t be grumpy all night. I wanna enjoy my butter pecan up there, alright? Good boy,” Wade patted Logan’s head before shouting out Vanessa's name to support her before she came up.

“That’s my girly pop!” Wade yelled out, making Vanessa chuckle as she danced on stage with y/n. Their session was almost done, and Logan felt drained. Watching y/n like this was going to be unforgettable tonight.

At first, he hated the idea of y/n being like this in front of so many men. That’s the reason why he came last second. Now he’s wishing he never did, with how hard and leaky he was from watching.

He couldn’t possibly go up to y/n without her knowing. She’d see the patch instantly. He cursed himself for being a perv.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Logan got up and quickly walked away before Wade could speak or anyone could see him cover himself up.

“Logan!? Wade sent me back here to come and get you! He said you’ve been all here for almost an hour,” y/n said as she made her way down the small hallway to the bathrooms.

After the show, it got dead, since people were only there to see the strippers of the night.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but he still didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to focus on his release. “Logan, are you even here?” Y/n opened the men’s bathroom slowly, not really caring if she saw anyone else. She wanted to make sure Logan was alright if he was still here.

“Goddamnit,” y/n heard Logan grunt. She wanted to turn back around and leave, thinking he was having trouble using the bathroom until she saw one hand over the bathroom stall.

She squinted her eyes to take a better look, seeing how tight he was gripping the metal. The stall was bending in from how hard he gripped down.

“F-Fuck, just- Fuck, c’mon,” Logan groaned in annoyance, angry that he’s been going at this for what felt like days. He’s a mutant, so he should be able to last however long he pleased, but he wanted to release now. He’s never been this hard in his life.

“Logan?” Y/n said low, but surprisingly, he heard her this time. “Fuck-“ the man cut himself off and stopped instantly. “Y/n!?” The man panicked as he fixed himself up, but that was going to be hard.

He’s been leaking for who knows how long, and everything had made its way all over his hand. When he went to wipe his hand in his jeans, all it did was make him look worse.

“Yeah, I was just- I was just checking on. Wade told me to,” y/n said as she rubbed her fingers together, a bit embarrassed that she probably witnessed Logan, and an older adult jerking off in a bar bathroom.

“That motherfucker,” Logan mumbled as he began to buckle his pants. “I can, uh, leave if you’d like. I’m technically doing something illegal anyways,” y/n spoke about her being in the men’s bathroom. “No, no!- Just wait a second,”

Y/n stayed silent as she heard Logan groan in frustration and probably break a few things in the stall before he finally came out.

“Hey, Bub, uh, wassup?” Logan asked as he quickly walked over to the sink, not trying to make anything seem too obvious. “Just checking’ on ya,” y/n smiled as she scanned the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Logan?” Y/n felt the need to walk over to Logan, but slowly. “Yeah, Bub, just needed to take a leak, that’s all,” Logan lied as he turned around after drying his hands.

“Are you sure? You’re breathing a bit heavy, and-“ Y/n went on until she looked down at his lower body, seeing what his jeans looked like. They were basically drenched in one particular area.

Logan took a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he was caught and couldn’t lie his way out. He prayed she’d think he was just some man who needed to rub one out, but she kept asking him the right questions.

“First time watching the new modern women strip?” Y/n chuckled shyly as if wondering if this was even a joking situation. “You’re a funny one,” Logan chuckled as he fixed his shirt he noticed was sitting wrong.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed. Most men don’t know how to act when they see a pair of tits,” y/n joked, but that slightly bruised Logan’s ego.

“Seen enough tits in my life, Bub,” Logan said, right before he took a look down at her chest. “Oh, you have? Seems like a fun life,” y/n got a bit defensive at his response. She couldn’t believe it at first, but her response was out of jealousy.

“Ain’t too bad — As long as they come with a pretty face,” Logan said as he looked into her eyes with a head tilt. “Yeah,” was all y/n could say as she broke eye contact.

“You know you’re pretty, right?” Logan asked as he moved towards y/n, softly letting his hand rest on her waist. “Really?” Y/n asked, confidence suddenly being thrown out of the window.

“Oh, yeah — So damn pretty,” Logan placed his free hand on her cheek, slightly rubbing it as her eyes widened. “T-Thank you,” y/n stuttered, and all Logan could do was chuckle at how she got around him.

“Got me all worked up out there, hun. Didn’t know you could move like that,” Logan admitted. “That’s why they had me dance on my first day,” Y/n said, reminding Logan about that. “That doesn’t sit right with me, Bub. Don’t want you back here workin’ for a creep,”

“But Vanessa? She works here,” y/n said, but he some care. “That ain’t my girl, so what she does, doesn’t concern me,” Logan said, not wanting to sound rude, but he truly did not care about anyone else, but y/n.

“You, though? You’re my girl, and you didn’t tell me about this job — Wade had to,” Logan said as the hand on her waist tightened. “And, that doesn’t sit right with me,”

Y/n felt the need to apologize, thinking she did something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t. Only in Logan’s eyes, she did do something that would need some consequences.

“Gonna say anything before I do what I’ve been needing for the past two hours?” Y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She was curious about how far Logan would take this.

“C’mere,” Logan said as he pulled y/n into a bigger bathroom stall than the one he was in. Once he locked the door, he pushed y/n to her knees, making sure to keep eye contact with her soft eyes.

“Gonna need you to look at me just like that until I’m done, okay? Been stuck for the past hour with this shit,” Logan said as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. He didn’t think about it, but y/n sure did once she saw his length.

He was long, harder than she’d ever seen anyone before, thick, veiny, and leaking more than an average human should be.

“Open up, Bub,” was all Logan said as he pushed at her lips with his tip. Y/n hesitated but soon opened up and took him in. She had stopped after a few inches, but he continued thrusting his hips until she was in as much as he thought she could take.

“Fuck, baby — This is exactly what I needed,” Logan rolled his eyes as he felt instant release. He knew he was close, but he wanted to last. “Stop gaggin, baby — Wanna last a bit longer,” Logan told y/n, but she couldn’t. He was too huge.

“Bub, I said- Oh my god,” Logan grew angry, but soon whined as her throat collapsed around his shaft. “Fuck, I can’t hold it, Bub. So damn wet and warm- Fuck,” was all Logan said before his cock twitched.

Y/n couldn't help but look up at Logan to watch him lose himself in her mouth. The main she let out as he spilled into her mouth, made him groan louder, and tighten his grip on her hair.

“Goddamnit, I’m gonna cum again-“ Logan struggled to say as his legs shook, and a second orgasm ripped from him. Y/n’s eyes widen as more cum filled her mouth, so much that his seed leaked out of her mouth. There was too much to take.

“Nah uh, swollen it all, or I make you walk out with it on your face,”

322 notes · View notes