#and he knows talking to his son for a few minutes is not worth the risk of potentially costing his life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neopuppy · 8 months

Text

Shameless (M)

pairing. step-son Jeno x step-mom reader

genre. stepcest, infidelity, Jeno hates his dad, young trophy wife step-mom

wc. 10k

warnings. dubcon, profanity, exercise/body talk, Jeno has a thing for sweat, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.

now playing. Shameless//Camila Cabello

smut warnings. masturbation, mommy kink, coercion, a lot of breast focus, reader has large breasts, oral, improper use of a cucumber.., raw fucking, noncon filming, wet messy etc..

“She’s a little too young, even for you.”

Jeno’s tongue drags along the backs of his teeth peering over his father’s shoulder for the last 10 minutes as he idly scrolled through various photos and short video clips. Most innocent enough, cute selfies showing off your pretty fanned out eyelashes, a new lip gloss shade, or just an adorable smile.

The videos his dad took time to watch made Jeno’s breath hitch, looping the few seconds of you showing off a new bikini for summer, filming yourself in the mirror and turning to show off a scandalous yet feminine pattern right above the indentation of bikini bottom scrunched between your pert buttcheeks.

“I work very hard, son, believe I deserve a pretty young thing.” He snickers, having noticed the youngers reflection on his phone screen a few minutes ago. “Something about this one..”

“Where’d you find her? Another sugar baby app you had to pay to join?” Jeno crosses his arms, glaring daggers into the back of his father’s head. Pathetic, working hard for what? To blow your funds on women who probably gag over your shoulder while you fuck them and lose your stamina after two minutes?

His father chuckles, swiping the social media app shut to open his messages. “You’re going to hate this but she approached me first.” With a proud smile he turns to face his son, showing off back and forth messaging between the two of you. Majority of the context is similar to how two cute shy teens would chat, nothing racy despite knowing his father’s likely buying time to pounce and unleash an arsenal of embarrassing boomer dick pics.

“You’re lying.”

Standing up, his father sneers, a smile hidden somewhere behind his resentful expression. “Believe it or not, your old man’s still got it. Now, if you don’t mind— I have a date with your soon-to-be step-mom.” He winks, purposefully bumping roughly into his son’s shoulder on his way out of the living room; leaving Jeno standing there rubbing at the spot mindlessly, jaw tight as he recounts your username to conduct his own investigation.

His first summer home in years and this is what his asshole father wants to pull? Jeno grimaces, plopping down on the couch to commence his search and find your other social media platforms.

“Twenty-fucking-two? He’s out of his mind.” Muttering to himself, he quickly taps in and out of various videos. The fact that you follow dance trends is enough to make his eyes roll, concentrating harder than he should have to on your face and the quirky silly wide eyes you make at the camera instead of the obscene way your breasts bounce freely beneath a much too tight and thin crop top, braless. Of course.

Jeno bets you did approach his dad first, he can picture it now. A sweet little helpless thing miraculously bumping into him at Whole Foods or some other ridiculously overpriced grocery store, batting your big doe eyes irresistibly after calculating the worth of the ludicrous gold Rolex adorning his wrist. No doubt adding the sum of his Gucci loafers and Dior sunnies; undoubtedly pushed up into his salt and pepper hair as he read over the nutritional information of a new all-natural all-organic sugar free gluten free energy drink.

You probably struck up conversation from there, perched yourself on his dad’s arm striking up flirtatious charm about the product in his hands, just to lean in closer and smash your ample chest against his arm.

Jeno clicks his phone shut frustrated, balling his fist open and shut to watch the blood flow down and redden his skin.

It infuriates him how easily his father continues to win, after the divorce his view of the man he once admired could never be repaired. What he once respected and admired all came crumbling down as his mother broke down crying in his arms after years of pretending to act dumb and not notice late evenings at the office, extended company trips, or the stains of lipstick shades she’d never wear and remnants of musky oud that simply never complimented her skin.

Jeno rests his eyes, ignoring the itching ache in his chest. What could he do anyway? What did his dad have to lose that money couldn’t buy him a new and better version of.

A house? A car? More designer brands and jewelry to mark his status in the upper class?

It only took a month, one fucking month, and the answer became clear as his dad lifted you up by your trim waist hidden under ugly burly veiny paws. The smile across his face so arrogant and cocky, hoisting his young little play thing up in the pool just to watch your beautiful round chest bounce in his face beneath triangles of material hardly containing you.

Jeno can’t deny he gets something out of it too, something he stores away for later along with the cheerful sweet moaned giggles you let out after splashing his father’s face with water and demanding in the most helpless submissive tone to be put down. Bet his dad loves that, in fact, he knows he does. It didn’t even take a full two weeks before you moved in with a fat diamond rock on your ring finger. The sight of it nearly blinded him when it caught the glare of light.

Jeno knows he can’t keep up with his father’s wealth, not yet. Material things aren’t his strength either, but as he jerks off into his palm by his bedroom window facing the backyard where you’ve taken to performing your morning pilates, his eyes concentrate on your insane flexibility. The tip of your head near your feet keeping your taut ass up for him to salivate over, and now he knows one thing for sure.

He needs to fuck his step-mom.

Jeno’s usually a morning person, but leave it to his father to ruin that for him.

“Kiss kiss.”

Disgusting.

Heavily wrinkled lips pout in your face, his dad slithered around your waist from behind as you finished packing your new husband's lunch. Really, it’s repulsive to watch unfold every morning. The only perk being the smile you beam Jeno’s way with your much too chipper and excited ‘Good Morning!’ As you skip to the fridge to pour some of your lemon water into a glass, breasts all round and taunting from where he sits; nipples always hard, piercing through your collection of various nighties and tank tops.

“Anything for breakfast? I can whip up some pancakes real quick if you want.”

Jeno tries to hide his grin, as much as he wishes to act like a brat— he can’t. The thing is, you’re lovely in every sense of the word. Too lovely, doting, and appealing, never once causing him annoyance.

He wants to scoff, demand you whip up the most delicious fluffiest pancakes, take your top off and throw the batter down your bare chest before laughing in your face to clean it up; lifting up one breasts at a time with fat wads of tears in your eyes as you plead for him to stop— stop being mean, stop smearing more of the mess he’s caused you to make across your lips.

“Nothing for me.” Jeno motions to the protein shake resting in his grip. “I’m trying to lean out.”

“Lean out?” Your smiles too soft, lifting to one side with surprise. “I can’t imagine you have anything but muscle left, when's the last time you had your body fat measured?”

“Ah, you don’t know because you haven’t seen me shirtless, yet.” Jeno says, more as an invitation to get a rise out of you, having to swallow back a sigh at your lack of response; not even a hint of interest. “Need to slim down my waist a bit to really achieve the shape I want.”

“Well if you ask me..” Jeno waits, appreciating how lightly you float around the kitchen to gather your fruits and toppings to decorate your yogurt bowl with. “You look really fit, your waist is practically non-existent.”

“How much do you weigh?” He asks abruptly, evidently throwing you off by the way your gaze widens in shock and a stutter passes between your lips, quickly averting your attention back to the half chopped strawberry in front of you.

“Wha— uhm..”

“Sorry, that was rude.” Jeno smiles, awkwardly scratching his nape. “I was wondering if it’s less than what I can press.”

A dazed gleam coats your iris, staring back dumbfounded by the image of your step-son working his hips up with crossed eyebrows, using all the force and strength of his muscle mass to lift.

“How much can you do?” You ask, clearing your throat and refocusing on your breakfast. The question more to keep up with the conversation before you run off to hide in your bedroom.

Jeno lets out a breathy laugh. “I shouldn’t have asked, don’t know what I was thinking.” Pushing up from the kitchen island to stand, he pauses before making his way to exit; having taken to a grueling AM workout after downing his shakes. “I can definitely press double, if not more than what you weigh.”

He doesn’t miss the way your hands come to a halt, gripping around the knife in your hold, eyes silently falling shut with a deep breath.

“You should come join me some time, bet I can lift you easily.”

Jeno’s grateful at least that his father has no choice but to work morning to evening five days a week to earn the lavish lifestyle he’s achieved. He’s thankful because you love to perform your afternoon stretches in the backyard, the landscape his bedroom window coincidentally faces.

“So flexible.” He mumbles to himself, forehead resting against the window frame where he stands with his hand buried inside of his boxers, mindlessly thumbing at the slit of his cock for a hint of relief. Your mid-day sessions only last about over an hour, depending on how far you want to push yourself.

Sure, the splits always made his balls tighten up, having to slow down the pace and pull at his length, circling the base to quell the sudden urge to throw you up and down on his cock fully spread out.

But really, the extended puppy pose takes him over the edge every time.

Jerking off from his bedroom window has become unsatisfactory, the best part is really after when you walk in with your smile high off endorphins, gently patting the sweat that’s accumulated on your gorgeous décolleté.

“Oh Jeno, I thought you’d gone out.”

He hums, following your movements around the kitchen to replenish your hydration, noting the beads of sweat continuously rolling down between the dip in your back. His teeth bite down on the tip of his tongue, tempted to shove you up against the fridge and lick them all clean before falling to his knees to suck the dark patch between your thighs.

“Good workout?” Jeno never tries to hide that he’s checking you out, he makes it obvious everyday. “Looks like you really worked up a sweat.”

“Oh yeah, it’s so hot outside.” The lack of eye contact you’re able to maintain indicates discomfort, judging by the way you try to clean off your stomach and arms.

“My dad has a thing about sweat, right?” Jeno offhandedly mentions, not missing the awkward twitch in your cheek to hide a grimace. “That’s why you’re always so clean by the time he gets home? The water bill has to be through the roof with how often he has you doing laundry.. not that he cares.”

“I suppose his nose is a bit sensitive.”

“He always complained about how my mom smelled, her hair after a day of not washing, the smell of the dinner she cooked him on her hands still.” He continues, enjoying your lack of reply. “He’s picky about a lot of things, I’m sure you know what I mean.”

A fake smile shuts down the conversation, nodding toward the staircase. “It’s time for my shower.”

Jeno nods, shamelessly eyeing the stains of wetness under your large breasts, pushed together even tighter by the binding sports bra meant to keep you held in place through vigorous activity. “Wouldn’t want daddy to get mad now, would we?”

A wash of embarrassment has you scurrying away from your step-son quickly, leaving behind the small towel drenched in your sweat that immediately catches his attention.

Jeno definitely inherited the same sensitive sense of smell from his father, but unlike the old man he’d become more addicted to the different places his nose had led him to. A smirk lifts his lips, tucking the towel up above his mouth to deeply inhale. It’s mind-numbing how delectable you smell, he even sucks on the remnants of damp that hasn’t fully evaporated, quietly mewling within his chest.

The telltale sound of the upstairs shower from his father’s bedroom tears him from slipping into euphoric madness, cock already half-erect as he trudges up the stairs and finds himself tip-toeing into your bedroom, the bathroom door only softly creaking as he makes space to peer through. The daily routine of watching you scrub down every inch of skin, so smooth, hairless, meticulously shaving clean each short hint of stuble. His father must be real demanding of how his little stay at home house-wife should present herself, of course.

Bunching the nearly dried towel inside of his briefs, Jeno groans between clenched lips, rubbing the cotton fabric up and down his length, his heart rate pumping up to a high-speed when you lift a leg to reach deep between your thighs and leave the fleshy area hidden there completely bald.

That will change once he manages to infiltrate, he’ll make you change for him.

“You should go out son, I don’t want you hanging around the house.” Jeno’s dad doesn’t even bother to mask his disdain, shoving a wad of cash at his chest. “Scram.”

That would be too easy, it’s not as if his friends haven’t been blowing up his phone about some party tonight. He’ll plan to leave later and miss the sound of his father’s pig-like moaning squeals when he takes five minutes to fuck you. For now, his ass isn’t moving from one of the pool chairs, opting for the more shaded area under a large canopy to watch from.

Why would he want to miss out on the display you put on for his old man, stepping out in a tight little two piece bikini that does nothing to cover any of your curves. Jeno’s cock twitches as you slowly step out of your robe and his dad whistles making grabby hands at you to enter the pool. “Jump in, baby doll.”

Sick. God he hates hearing that old worn voice order your around. He hates how you giggle and enter from the steps, giving him a half-assed jump only for your breasts to lift up under your chin before the water immerses your perfect body, lifting back out pouring cascades of wet down your shoulders and arms before his dad snatches you up by the waist. “That’s my girl.”

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five—

Jeno takes a deep breath through his nose, an irritating pinch forming between his eyebrows the more you indulge his father, dawning the smile only reserved for your husband: hugging him close between your mounds of breasts as he releases a deep moan and licks up your neck.

His stomach churns the longer he watches, shoving himself to stand and move to the jacuzzi where he can’t help but to still watch from, ignoring the daggers his father’s eyes shoot at him on his way in. He won’t dare enter the pool while the two of you canoodle in there, preferring to stay clueless as to what your lower halves could be up to, the sight of his dad’s thick ugly hands cupping your breasts from is behind already enough to make him gag.. maybe if not for the shocked moan you let out, wrapping around his wrists shyly. “Babe.. we’re not alone.”

You whisper, but Jeno traces the words from your lips, ducking lower into the jacuzzi until one of the jets rumbles against his stomach, chin grazing under the hot water.

“Ignore him.” His dad could give two fucks, squeezing under your chest with more firmness, pushing them together creating a long dip of cleavage.

Jeno can see the lack of comfort in your hidden gaze, keeping your eyelids lowered with a demure embarrassed smile, saving face only for your husband's pleasure. He knows if you couldn’t sense another pair of eyes on you, you’d be your usual bubbly coquettish self, flouncing around burying his dad’s face in your chest, giggling all loud and cute.

The thrill of watching your discomfort escalate makes his cock kick up, lowering down onto his knees for only his eyes to peer over the jacuzzi’s ledge, noticing the way your gaze skirts by quickly to not give him enough acknowledgment to feel seen, but to stay aware of just how much your step-son can see. It’s easy from the angle to remove his father’s existence behind you, especially when he shifts closer to the ledge and one of the jets blasts right against his groin.

A shiver runs up his chest, biting down on his bottom lip as he stays transfixed on your flimsily covered breasts abused and bounced around. He has to hold back a curse when he finally unties his swim trunks, tugging free his length right in front of the burst of bubbled water. The pressure pushing out of the jet breaks against his slit, choking down a groan when your gaze finally meets his, mouth tense and ashamed.

He can’t keep a smile off his face, tugging harder at himself as your forehead wrinkles together, breathily arched up by the force pushing your breasts up and down against the splash of blue chlorine water.

The water around him boils against his skin even hotter, short of breath under the heat, short of breath from the image of your lips parting open. Jeno imagines you can bend your neck forward and wrap around his girth passing between your tits, it wouldn't be hard to reach anyway. Jerking up, he pushes against the jet hole, cock instantly engulfed by an intense amount of pressure blowing out against him. The push and pull only causes his stomach to clench, sink in and hollow out his middle-section.

You were doing a better job at ignoring him before, unable to stop for seconds now to watch your step-son’s facial features contort together… he can’t, he wouldn’t..

Nostrils flare, shoulders hidden under the bubbly foam around him, jerking mindlessly into the jet. It’s like breaking a dam over and over again, the pressure of release spilling out against his thick size, the only thing missing being your convulsing slick warmth squeezing and fighting to push him free as he thrusts in harder, fucking you full beyond capacity you can handle.

Jeno could care less about the predicament he’s landed in here, stroking his cock without control like some wild animal, succumbing to his desires and needs to bend you into all kinds of positions. He knows he can too after weeks of watching you move your body bonelessly, get you twisted up like a pretzel, face down ass up, legs behind your head full-nelson you flat on your back with his dick full slotted inside, grinding down just to watch you fail to squirm away. He’d leave you with no room to move, let alone breathe, fat tits pushed up under your chin, jiggling up and down and up and down with each thrust.

“Fuck.” He’s close now, tongue lolling out at the gasp that hitches in your throat. Siren-like eyes glazed over from the constant manipulation your breasts have been put through. What a fucking pervert, watching you struggle to collect yourself and maintain your etiquette.

Does his dad even savor the way every inch of your body tastes? Does he suck on your tits until your nipples pebble up rock hard and dig into the roof of his mouth? Jeno never see’s a mark on you, no… daddy doesn’t play rough with his toys, does he.

Jeno would though, fuck he’d have you screaming to the high heavens. He can’t hide the bob of his head the closer he reaches, catching your fully widened eyes stuck on him, and your bikini top finally coming undone after minutes of tugging and kneading.

Hands too large to be yours come up just a second too late to cover over your exposed nipples allowing Jeno the chance to see how swollen and pert and big they’ve gotten, probably prodding at his dad’s hideous rough palms.

The wet bounce of fat under his control has him emptying out into the jet, most of his release blown away from the powerful stream mixing in with the rest of the ramped jacuzzi water.

He has to calm himself, overheated from the drop back down to reality, overheated from the sun burning down onto the already steamy hot tub of water. Taking his time, he’s lazy to exit, patting off his reddened chest and stinging skin to a somewhat dry finish. The heat hardly subsides with eyes on him, specifically yours..

“I said scram you damn brat.”

His father’s shrill tone gives him an excuse to glance over, most of your frame hidden by his wide back stretched around you to hug you against the pool wall for discretion to tie your top back up.

“Yeah yeah, don’t wait up for me.” Not that he would, Jeno didn’t really mean that for his father anyway. The lingering gaze grazing down his body taking in every crevice and dip of bare naked muscle though, part of him hopes that you will wait up. He means it though, even with one more glance your direction before heading inside, finding your eyes for only a millisecond.

Don’t wait up mommy, I’ll be too busy fucking any hole presented to me, maybe even multiple. Anything to curb the incessant growing need to get you alone, slam you down and fuck you until you’re ripping that ring off your finger.

Jeno has to admit, he’s impressed by how long you’ve held it together, managed to keep up your composure around him despite his best efforts to make you start to crack.

Soon. Real soon.

“You’re around the house way too much, either get a job or get out.” Jeno’s father barged into his bedroom after that little pool escapade. Throwing pamphlets for schools across the country at his face. “I put enough money in your bank account, it’s time for you to quit fucking around and make something of yourself.

Jeno knows deep down inside his father’s ulterior motivation came from an all too pretty adorable wife, evidently unhappy with the way his son has decided to forgo his gym membership in favor of walking around shirtless dripping in sweat after using the home equipment.

He couldn’t put up much of an argument with the old man. It’s not entirely your fault he found his ass on a train 7 hours away the next week, just in time for a new semester.

Sure, it’s not entirely your fault, he can’t put all of that insecure assholes blame on you.

But it is your fault, and that long silent train ride gave him all the time to ponder, reflect, plot, devise the next step. Work harder, fuck more, leave you with no choice but to wipe the drool from your chin at the mere sight of your step-son.

If only it could be that easy. He really can’t stand how reluctant you are to trip and fall, landing right into the palm of his hands breasts first. Can’t stand the way you still parade around town proudly introducing yourself as the Mrs. Lee. The side-eyes and whispers never affect you, too happy to give a damn with each guiltless swipe of your husband’s black American Express.

God, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand you.

Jeno really can’t stand his step-mom.

Not because you’re awful or even a bitch, no.. in fact, you’re perfect. Too perfect for his nasty cheater asshole father who could care less for his mother, now ex-wife.

“Ah Jeno, it’s so nice to have you home again.” Your sweet cheerful voice interrupts his fuming thoughts, the back of his head instantly relaxing in the mound of your breasts as you circle his neck and lean down to hug him. “You hungry? I stocked up on all of your favorites.”

Nuzzling back into your warm embrace, he sighs, eyes drifting shut to inhale the notes of peach and cucumber wafting from your freshly cleansed skin. Supple soft radiant skin he knows you spend meticulous hours of the day exfoliating, lotioning, massaging with oil only for your useless husband to rub his old disgusting rough hands upon.

“Missed cooking for me?” He mumbles, shifting to bury his nose in the column of your throat to fully immerse himself in your savory scent.

“Look how skinny you’ve come back, that school not feeding you properly or something?” You reprimand, patting over his flat stomach lightly. “I have to make sure to keep you full for the next couple of weeks before your break ends.”

Nudging the top of his head with your chin, you continue into the kitchen, still in your silky pajama set. Something short, hardly covering your abundant chest, dad wouldn’t have his young little trophy wife any other way, always ready for the taking.

Jeno can only imagine how many mornings his father has snuck up on you making breakfast, bending you over to fill you up before heading to work. Fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to even touch you, let alone any of those fake moans you must practice to please him.

“Are you worried about me?” Jeno’s chair scratches across the kitchen tile, slowly lifting up to get a better look at your buttcheeks squeezed by your panties, innocently bent over in search of a pan. “Maybe the school cafeteria doesn’t serve anything that satisfies my hunger.”

“I’ll fix that,” too distracted on your hunt for the right spices and oils, you fail to notice how close Jeno’s gotten, hovering behind you with a smirk as your robe slips from your shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted to go to school so far away. You could be eating my home cooking everyday if you’d just stayed local.”

“…is that so?” A grin teases at his lips, halting your hand from adjusting your robe to push it down left to fall at your feet.

A shiver runs up your spine sensing his breath fanning across your shoulder, palms smoothing down your waist to your hips. “Jeno?”

“I’m hungry, mommy.”

“Jeno? Wha—“ your hips stay locked in place, shoved against the kitchen counter by the stronger ones behind you knocking forward to trap you.

“I missed you too, mommy.” Shoving his hips forward, Jeno’s girth slots between your flimsily covered ass, rutting quickly to lodge between and create delicious friction against his cock. “You know what I really missed?”

“Je-Jeno.. what are you..”

“Last summer when you moved in, every different ridiculously tiny bikini you wore around the pool. Your fat tits barely contained, just how dad likes it huh? I guess we have that in common.” Keeping you held against the counter with his hips grinding in circles against your ass, hands find a way to your shoulders, swiftly dropping down the straps of your nightgown leaving your breast to bounce out freely. The morning crisp air circulating around the house breezes past your nipples, hardening the buds instantaneously.

“Sweetie, this.. this isn’t right, your dad—“

“Is an asshole.” Jeno bites, cupping your breasts that overflow in his hold, the fat squeezing between his digits pushing out a low groan from deep within his chest. “Fucking decrepit dickhead, bet he can’t even get hard from this alone? I’ve seen that erectile dysfunction prescription.. can’t even take care of you and fuck you right can he, mommy?”

To emphasize his point, Jeno’s hips swerve, fucking forward vigorously for the thick shape of his rod to slam between your panty covered behind, night gown bunched up over your hips from his incessant humping. “Can’t tell me a pretty young thing like you doesn’t miss it, hours and hours of getting the life fucked out of you.”

The kneading and massaging at your chest accompanied with your step-sons evidently large size has you panting, hands gripping the kitchen counter for some relief. Shaking your head, you try to ignore the way your hips rut back to find his, biting back a moan from escaping. “Jeno, please.. sweetie, d-don’t—your dad..”

A rough slap under your breast silences you, the fat rippling under Jeno’s strength as he delivers another slap, working in succession to bounce and smack each with his chin perched over your shoulder rambling on and on about how good you look like this. Perfectly pliant, needy, face full of ecstasy all thanks to your step-son.

“Dad has great taste, I’ll give the old fuck that.” Jeno snickers, teeth digging into the vein lining the side of your throat. “Had me hard as a rock fucking into my fist all summer, tried to get over you by filling up any hole.. couldn’t get your pretty body off my mind.”

“Jeno, baby.. w-we can’t. Your dad, he’ll.. he’ll kill you.”

Breath staggers against your neck at the term of endearment, hips fucking against you in earnest. “You think I fucking care about him? What about you? What about this mess you’ve made mommy? How can you do this to me? Tempt me all the time with these perfect fucking tits and expect me to leave you alone now?”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry Jeno.. I didn’t—“

“Baby, I’m your baby.” Jeno pinches your nipples roughly, pulling and slapping forcing a loud echo of skin on skin to barrel across the kitchen. Jackhammering his hips faster against your ass. “Tell me to stop, don’t fucking tell me what dad wants. You tell me to stop.”

“B-baby… I-I…” a sad pathetic cry sounds, dropping forward loosely as your thighs tremble erratically, held up only the rough grip on your chest undoubtedly leaving behind marks of nails and bruising.

“Must be true.” Jeno grunts, shoving your underwear down. “Like father, like son.”

“Jeno, please, you can’t do this!” It’s harder now to fight him off, roughly taken by your chest, fondled like some little doll only there to pleasure him. “If—if he finds out—“

“Don’t worry about that senial bastard, he wouldn’t be able to read a sign even if it was spelled out for him.” Your step-son doesn’t relent, fucking against your panties roughly until the his stiffed up cock shoves the material between your ass. “You’re so wet for me, you feel that? Feel me?”

Jeno thrusts forward angling his size right between your poorly clenched thighs, ass bouncing back against his pelvic bone. “Think you can handle that? Too big for you mommy?” He reaches down to whip out his cock, expertly dragging his fully hard length out to slot against your soaked covered core. The contact makes his eyes roll up, long eyelashes fluttering rapidly impairing his vision for a minute as his size drags against the wet shape of your cunt.

“Oh fuck fuck.” Jeno refuses to cum like this, even if his stomach muscles contort and suck in viciously. He swallows down a hissed breath, jerking back to fuck against your drenched panties in earnest.

“J-Jeno.. please!”

“You want it, huh? Wanna get fucked by a big fat cock finally?” Jeno bites back a laugh, mostly a groan as the tip of his cock ruts against your clit. “Daddy can’t fuck you the way you need, can’t get you off. When’s the last time you had a real orgasm? Not that whiny shit you fake for him.”

Inner-turmoil loses to your arousal, forced to slide up and down what feels like a forearm between your thighs. Your good sense dissipates the more your cunt spreads around the girth pushing between your folds, aching to feel each pulsating vein lining your step-son’s length drag against your wet slick pussy.

“I’m… fuck Jeno..” between gasps and choked back moans, you weakly give him a thrusts back, faintly meeting his motion to rut against your clit and create a mind-numbing friction.

One of his palms lands against your ass like a crack of a whip, sending your chest to collide forward and press against the cool marble of the kitchen counter. “What did you call me?”

Gathering your underwear, Jeno pulls the material aside, sucking spit away that's gathered around his thirsty tongue upon seeing your cunt so ready to be wrecked and fucked. “Look at that tight hole, like a virgin. No way daddy’s fucking you right.”

You’re grateful that your brain hasn’t fully failed you yet, even with your step-son’s thick palms spreading your ass open continuing to spew nonsense out about the appearance of your perfect pussy. God knows you’d beg and confess how badly you need to cum— cum around your husband's son’s monster sized cock. “How am I going to fit in there mommy? I’m way too big for you.”

Jeno sounds sadistic, hawking out spit that lands and drips down to your entrance. “Should I be nice and prep you?” He laughs, a fake laugh, a mocking teasing laugh. “That would be too nice of me, wouldn’t it?”

He leans over your back, reaching for the basket of fruits and vegetables just past your head. “Should I be nice?”

Long fingers wrap around one of the cucumbers half hanging out of the basket, dragging the vegetable down to smack against your cheek. The solid food slaps your skin heavy and rough, making your step-son smile wide, highly pleased by the shame wrinkling your forehead together. “Mommy’s always so nice to me, always takes care of me so well.” Jeno taunts, leaning back and tapping the vegetable down your spine to run between your buttcheeks.

“I shouldn’t be too mean..” the thick tip of the cucumber meets your entrance, cold against your heated core making your hips shiver forward to get away.

“Baby..”

“Yeah, that’s right.” He presses in, cursing between gritted teeth as he watches you stretch open around the vegetable. It’s big, even then no competition for how wide the tip of his dick is alone. “Opening up so so pretty for me, mommy.”

He fucks the cucumber inside of you just half-way, sending your toes to arch up from the floor and scramble to grab at the kitchen counter; threatening to cut open your bottom lip with how hard you bite down to keep in a moan. The whole situation makes you feel dirty, disgusting, ashamed that you couldn’t stop him. That deep down inside you know you’d never stop him, you want it too much. Form the day you noticed your step-son watching you stretch from his bedroom window, to the time you caught a glimpse of him by the bathroom door as you scrubbed down and rinsed your naked body clean. You’ve always wanted him to make a move.

Maybe you’d been dreaming of this moment all along, adding your ingredients to the pot everyday until everything boiled over and spilled past the rim.

“So fucking nasty mommy.” Jeno keeps mumbling, thrusting the vegetable in and out of you, enthralled by the way it comes out stickier, coated with a thick layer of sheen. The wet dripping out past your cunt with each fill, spilling down your inner thighs to the kitchen floor like some whore that needs to be fucked and bred everyday. “Taking it so good, you’ll take me even better.”

His throbbing length slaps against your hip with each push and pull against your insides, hissing and groaning behind you the closer he reaches to stumbling over the edge. “You want that mommy? Want me to fuck you so good, make you forget about that huge rock weighing down your finger.”

Jeno doesn’t let you answer, not noticing the way you curl your hand into a fist to tuck away your wedding ring before discarding the cucumber as he rips you off the counter to shove you down to your knees.

“Fuck.” Gripping around his length he strokes quickly, reaching down to pull on one of your nipples and watch the fat perky mound jiggle under his ministrations.

“Gonna cum all over your perfect tits, push them together for me mommy.” Jeno slaps your breast impatiently, balls tight and tensed up between his thighs doing his best to stave off his orgasm from barreling out.

Eyes filled with big watery tears gaze up in a daze, cupping your substantial fat tits together making the perfect little pocket pussy for his cock to slide between. “Oh fuckkk.”

Jeno’s neck drops forward, slamming up between your squished breasts. Teeth grinding together to stop himself from screaming at the visual of your heavy perfect tits bouncing around his size, the tip of his length nearly hitting under your chin with each thrusts up against your chest. “So good mommy, so fucking good!”

Jeno reaches for your jaw, squeezing in roughly and smacking your cheek to pop open your lips. “Just like that, so fucking hot.” It’s everything he’s dreamt about. Nights stuck inside of his dorm room looking up milf porn, step-son breeding step-mom, juicy breasts bouncing on his computer screen that could never compare to how good this feels.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He cries out, thrusting against your chest harder, forcing the weight of your breasts up and back down into your palms, bouncing deliciously. Slapping your cheek again, digits dig into your cheeks and drop a wad of spit in. Pleased from his high up angle as you stay open and let him watch it glide down to the back of your throat. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

Jeno tugs away, cock slapping down on your parted lips before reaching for the tip to squeeze around and release into your mouth. “Swallow all of it.” He moans out, circling your throat with his other hand to feel himself slide down. “That’s it, so good for me mommy.”

The smug smile he gives you before hoisting you up to sit on the table you share meals with your husband at lets you know this is far from over. “Don’t be rude mommy.” Jeno pouts, pushing space for himself between your thighs. Soft palms stroke up and down almost like a warning. “Say thank you.”

He smirks, sinking down to bury between your thighs and proceed to use his tongue in ways your husband never has.

“Dinner looks great!” Your poor unsuspecting husband sits down right where his son had his meal with you mere hours ago(one that had your back split up in an arch and your eyes meeting the back of your skull), hands clasped together before the plate you serve him.

“Now now,” Jeno chimes in, moving to stand from the dinner table to grab a bowl from the fridge. “I see no greens on that plate, didn’t your doctor warn you about that high cholesterol?”

Your husband eyes his son suspiciously, too focused on the little brat to see the sheer panic running over your face behind his side. “I found this new cucumber salad recipe, I think you’ll really like it dad.”

He smiles, an endearing sweet genuine smile, a smile that could easily make you forget what type of evil menace you’re really dealing with here. “Here, try it out.”

To your absolute horror, Jeno sets down a bowl of seasoned, finely chopped, and wet cucumber before his father, nodding eagerly.

“You put poison in this or something?” He grumbles, stabbing at the slices before shoving a batch into his mouth and chomping with a pleased hum. “Not bad, not bad at all. What’s that flavor?”

His son grins wide, eyes large and full of mirth.

“I knew you’d like it, got a kick to it right?” He blinks up to meet your mortified gaze, biting down on your fingernails as your mind shouts frantically- he wouldn’t!.. he would!.. no, no, HE WOULDN’T.

As if he can read your thoughts, Jeno winks at you, clapping his father on the shoulder. “I guess we have the same taste, daddy.”

“Don’t dare bother to throw any parties while I’m gone.” Jeno’s father glares at him, pointer finger digging between his chest. “No funny business you hear me? You need to show your step-mom some respect.”

Jeno has a hard time hiding a smug smirk, having to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to contain himself. “Oh dad, trust me, I will show her nothing but the utmost respect. You have nothing to worry about.”

His father squints, skepticism crossing his wrinkled features as he takes in his son’s face once more before heading out to bid you a long goodbye filled with lingering wet kisses.

“Right. You know what? These vacation breaks from school really seem unnecessary. Why can’t you be normal and go on trips to different party cities like the rest of the guys your age?” He scoffs, waving him off flippantly, not even a hug? Jeno clutches his chest dramatically, following after to watch the two of you say your goodbyes from the top of the staircase.

“If he bothers you..” Thick calloused fingers hold your chin delicately, nothing like the nimble boney ones that dug into your face just a few days ago and forced your mouth open to spit past your tongue. Jeno doesn’t really care to tune in, more amused than anything by the little act you keep up. Such a cute young sweet house-wife, more dolled up than your usual for a morning session of pilates. The extra effort put into your appearance no doubt for his father’s benefit, a pretty vision for him to leave behind. It’s not as if the 2 minutes it took for him to fuck you this morning wasn’t enough for the old man.

Jeno hums to himself, catching your line of sight before you follow after his dad to say bye from the driveway as he enters his ride to the airport. Maybe that’s fear in your eye, but excitement builds up his chest nonetheless; you’ll have no arms to run to now. Nowhere to hide that he won’t be able to find you, no asshole of a father to whisk you away from him. At least not for the next foreseeable 24 hours.

That’s why he goes back to bed, his father rudely awoke him this morning with a loud cursed groan after climaxing out of breath and falling onto your bed with a loud thud. He’s surprised the old man hasn’t keeled over and died yet trying to get his rocks off with you. Jeno sighs thinking about the past few days as he lays back down and buries his face into his pillow, you really have been doing a great job of avoiding him.

That doesn’t mean he misses the silent glances and hesitant looks, or the stiffness in your spine whenever he so much as passes by. No, he notices everything you do, even how you’ve been locking your bedroom door when taking showers now. It’s cute really, a game more than anything now as he rests his eyes and hums, imagining you’ve come back inside and surveillanced the downstairs area for your big scary step-son, probably sighing in relief that he’s left you alone. For now.

He’ll let you get your lovely perfect morning routine on, build up a nice sweat that gets your heart racing, high off endorphins from stretching and straining your muscles with various exercises. He’d prefer it that way really, and judging from the time— soon, soon you’ll be on your way to the kitchen to refresh with a nice chill glass of electrolytes. What a pleasant easy life his father has granted you, all you have to grant him in return is your body. It’s no wonder you work daily to keep up appearances for the old man.

Jeno’s mother had never cared much to fulfill his father’s porngraphic ideals of how women should look and act, but you, ah he really struck gold with you. He can’t deny that if he had found you first, he would have ate you alive.

“Oh.”

Your step-son’s not surprised to see you exit the newly renovated makeshift room filled with gym equipment(that used to be for his gaming consoles), gently patting your sweat glistened skin off as the door opens and unveils him standing there across from you expectantly.

“Figured you wouldn’t want me to share such a small space with you.” Jeno says, making no effort to disguise his gaze, dragging down from your chest to your hips and stopping between your thighs to moisten his lips. “All sweaty, out of breath, making sounds that could read as inappropriate..”

Tight-lipped, you nod and ignore him before stepping out and motioning inside the gym room. “All yours.”

“Everything?”

Jeno’s arm launches forward before you can take another step, pausing you dead in your tracks against the hallway wall, a less than innocent grin stares back at you. He cocks an eyebrow, following the beads of sweat raining down your forehead at faster speed the closer he inches forward until you’re pressed up against the wall with little room to free yourself.

“You thought I’d make this easy, didn’t you?” He huffs through his nose, bending at his neck to perch his nostrils right above your throat and swallow down the fresh scent of your hard work. “Burned up a real good sweat for daddy?”

“Jeno, can we talk first at least?” You squirm, leaning back as much as you can with feet flat to the ground in an attempt to slither down the wall inconspicuously. “I don’t want your dad to suspect anything, what happened the other day..”

“When you came around my tongue and begged me to fuck you?” He interrupts, pressing his forehead forward to hold yours in place, voice gruff and deep. “Or when daddy enjoyed his meal? Were you scared mommy? Don’t worry, I won’t let him do anything to you.”

“That’s not it, I’m married to your father!” You smack his chest to push yourself free, digging your palms into his muscular pecs without much budge. The contact only riles him up more, releasing a growl and bumping his nose closer to yours. “Please! Jeno, I’m all sweaty and disgusting. Let me take a shower first at least.”

“Why would I let you do that? And ruin all of this for me?” This being the sweat Jeno proceeds to lick from the divet between your collarbone, slurping his way down to your ample breasts squeezed snuggly inside of a tight sports bra. “Fuck, you taste so fucking good.”

Hearing his praise only makes you squeamish, struggling more to shove him away and break free from his biceps bracketed around you. “Please, I smell! Don’t be gross!”

It’s laughable to even ask this of your step-son, especially after having to sit and watch your husband munch away on a phallic shaped vegetable that his son had just used to get you off with.

“I’m gonna need you to shut up mommy,” Jeno scoops the soaked fabric of your bra under your breasts, pushed up higher forming two round mounds perfect for sucking on. “Nothing gross about you, or this.” Teeth bury into the perky fat of your chests, sucking roughly, rough enough to hurt but not leave marks behind.

Jeno can’t stop his hips from rutting forward, grinding his aching thickening cock against your stomach. His basketball shorts don’t do much to conceal how hard he is already, having chubbed up in his room from the thought alone of what he planned to do to you today. He has enough respect for you to leave no signs of bruising behind on your chest, but that doesn’t mean he cares when you cry out to stop again and pull away with your weak nails scratching at the wall.

“You really want me to stop?” He asks, cock dragging up and down from between your pelvis to just above your navel. “Tell me the truth mommy, I know he can’t fuck you the way I can. Know you’re desperate for it, want your sweet little step-son to hang you off his fat 9 inch cock? Come on mommy.” Jeno’s drooling between each word, slathering your chest in spit between his muffled speech and consistently sucking. “Admit it, wanna get fucked so bad.”

“N-no.. please, baby, don’t—“

Jeno’s chest rumbles, groaning loudly as he reaches to pull your bra off, rolling the wet material up for your breasts to bounce out lewdly. The smack of your chest meeting the top of your ribcage and breasts clapping together makes you squeal, quickly shutting your eyes in shame.

“Fuck, so sexy mommy. Don’t hide from me, don’t hide any of this from me.” He squeezes your chest roughly, jutting your nipples out to form perfect taut pacifiers to suck on. Jeno’s tongue works feverishly, sucking and licking at your pert buds until they fully harden to a painful point under the vacuuming pull from his mouth.

Jeno leaves your chest swollen, blood rushed to the skin he’s sucked on viciously. He hums, examining how heavy they weigh down in his palms, gripping and kneading, shoving his face between your cleavage just to hear you squeal and struggle to inch away from him. So damn cute.

“That old assholes really manipulated you well,” he grumbles, licking up the trickles of sweat dripping down from your nape to your shoulders and chest. “Has you thinking this is gross? That you are gross? What the fuck is wrong with him, huh? I should kick his fucking ass.”

“Don’t talk about your dad like that..” you whimper, biting back a moan when he bites and tugs at one of your hard nipples, jiggling your other breast against his face. Even with your mind battling between lust and guilt, you can’t help but to feel bad.

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Jeno whispers, leaning in to plant a firm kiss on your lips to shut you up. “He doesn’t even appreciate you.”

His hand cups between your legs, making your thighs lock around his wrist as he cups your sweat soaked mound. Shorts still wet after your vigorous workout. “Baby, not there, please please.”

“Mommy, I’m not going to tell you to be fucking quiet again.” He grins, licking your lips before sliding down your body to his knees. Jeno peers up, eyes sparkling in a dreamy almost innocent way, like a kid in a candy store. “I’m nothing like him.”

To prove his point, his face drops forward between your legs. The fight you put up to keep him out is useless, overpowered by his much larger stronger size as his arms come to wrap around your thighs and pull you apart allowing for his nose to drag up and down your sweaty slick soaked workout shorts.

“Jeno!” Your neck drops back weakly, eyes rolling shut at the sensation of your step-son pulling the material of your shorts with the suction of his mouth alone. Tonguing and sucking on the fabric to absorb the remnants of sweat that poured down and collected between your thighs. Pulling on his hair serves you no advantage, completely under his control as he grinds your cunt against his face roughly.

The only resolution you find comes from covering your face to hide your moans of pleasure, whimpering into your hands the more he licks between your folds shaped by your thin shorts clinging to your center.

Jeno sounds like a rabid animal down there, devouring his way through the best meal he’s ever had. The first sound of a rip sends your spine to straighten out, reaching back down to pull on his hair. “What are you doing!”

He groans, more turned on by your hands digging into his scalp and pulling roughly. Scooping around your thighs for more leverage, Jeno pulls at your shorts and bites down the seam until they give, ripping enough of a hole for his digits to push through and expand. A growl vibrates against your center as he dives in, teething your thin underwear away to roll his tongue against your clit.

“Oh my Go—“ out of breath you arch against his mouth, head shaking side to side and banging into the wall behind you. “Jeno!”

His tongue hardens and swirls against your clit, stimulating each nerve until your feet kick against his back and your hips jerk forward enough to ride his face. He can hardly breathe between your thighs, unbothered by the lack of air reaching his brain as he strokes your clit in expert motion until your cunt spasms against his mouth. Shouting out with your palm hitting flat against the wall as you release down his chin, entrance rocking along the lower half of his face despite the sensitivity throbbing around your middle.

Jeno laps at his mouth like a thirsty dog, slapping your exposed core before moving to stand and wrap around your waist to ensure you can’t run. Not that you will.

“You ready for it.” Resting your hand on his groin, your step-son rushes you up the stairs, scooping under your thighs to reach your bedroom faster.

“In here?!?” You grimace, head shaking to begin pleading. “Not where we slee—“

“Hush.” Jeno doesn’t give you more of an opportunity to argue, immediately hooking into your shorts and underwear to pull them off, only throwing them aside after stuffing the wet fabric under his nose to get a deep inhale. “God damn.”

As much as he wants to let this moment wash over him, the reality of having his wildest fantasy come true, laid out flat in his prick of a father’s bed, legs spread open showing off the prettiest pussy he’s ever seen; Jeno can’t deny how badly he needs to fuck you before he cums in his pants. He’s never been this turned on before, slapping your thigh as he reaches to turn you over onto your stomach, cunt all shiny and raw from the back, squished between your legs making his head spin even more somehow. There’s no way in fucking hell his dad deserves you, not one bit.

Reaching to shove down his shorts, Jeno pats his pocket for his phone, swiping it out discreetly to hit record and perch the device against one of your pillows; making sure to keep it out of your sight before he adjusts between the backs of your thighs. “I’ll fuck your ass too.” He says with a stroke of his thumb between your buttcheeks. “Gonna need more cucumbers for that though.” He snickers, finding a photo from your honeymoon framed on your bedside table, the side you sleep on of course.

Flipping off his father’s cheesy grin, he reaches over to slam the photo down. This is his moment after all, no one else's.

He’d never let you know how raging hard his dick feels right now, lining up the tip to your waiting hole. Having to roll his tongue back to stop himself from blurting out the amount of times he’s busted a nut into his hand, on his stomach, fuck even the pool jacuzzi jets more than a few times by now. All thanks to his precious step-mom, so carelessly displaying every inch of skin, fueling his perverse brain more than you even realize

“Knew you’d take it so good for me,” it’s better than getting a taste of you, which he didn’t think was possible. The stretch of your cunt expanding around his wide girth, skin pulled over the head of his cock struggling to keep him out and somehow pull him in at the same time.

“Gonna fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.” Jeno says in a more cocky tone, feeling more confident than ever now with half of his length inching inside of you. Pussy walls trembling around his size, sucking around the fat meat pulsing its way inside. No college slut, no amount of lotion to aid his palm, no graphic image available on a free adult website would ever come close to this.

Fully sheathed inside, he sounds out of breath, listening to your whimpers and moans you try to hide with your bedding tugged between your teeth. He glances at his phone quickly, positioning himself to pull out slowly and fall into a rapid pace, dropping his lower half to yours faster and faster until you’re screaming out. The way you scramble to grab onto something—arms flailing out to grab your bed for purchase only encourages him to fuck you faster. Slapping your ass with each powerful thrust.

“Best dick you’ve ever taken, don’t fucking lie to me.” Jeno demands, delivering another harsh slap to your ass before ramming forward balls deep. The collision of his palm cracks around your bedroom, knocking a loud cry from your chest. You nod rabidly in response, gasping deliriously with each pointed thrust. “Say it! Who fucks you this good!”

“You! You baby! Only you!” His phone’s camera stays angled filming your sides, albeit shaky and hard to capture the complete fucked out devestation that’s taken over your pretty face, it’s enough. Enough for him to get off to later, enough to get his way every single time if he needs to.

“That’s right,” Jeno angles his hips to fuck you full with each heavy land of his lower half, pushing your ass up with every clapping shout of skin on skin sounding out between your bodies. “Only me, only your baby.”

The camera tips over, screen gone black directed at the ceiling only recording the sounds of your moans and broken words between each other, Jeno’s gruff heavy panting breaths. The crash of your bodies rocking your headboard against your bedroom wall in a way he’s never once heard his father achieve.

“I’ll never stop fucking you now.” His bicep locks under your chin, forcing your waist to arch forward almost painfully; just enough to strain your lower back. “You’re mine.”

He follows with a growl, lips pressed up to your cheek, laving at whatever skin he’s able to reach. With another roll of his hips, he comes to a still, the thick muscle of his arm around your neck popping out in flex as his body tightens up and locks around your throat. Biting back a moan, Jeno’s release pours inside of you, hot and thick ropes of cum aimed deep inside of you before pulling out the rest of the way to spill between your ass and thighs. “Fuck!”

He sighs, kissing the top of your head to make sure your eyes have shut before reaching for his phone to record the beautiful mess left on your body. He wants to keep going on about how his dad will never fuck you to the point of nearly passing out, dragging his fingers through the mix of your releases before bringing them to his mouth to suck on.

One taste and Jeno knows he won’t stop fucking you until that ring slips off your finger for good.

“Hope he wasn’t too much to put up with while I was gone.” Your husband wraps around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder. “Next break I’ll have him go stay with his mother.”

“It’s okay my love, he really doesn’t bother me..”

“Hmm, well he sure bothers me.” He sighs, burying his nose into your hair. “Trying a new shampoo?”

“No…” you hold back from making a face, not having had time to thoroughly clean yourself all squeaky clean thanks to your step-son fucking you through the night.

“Oh..” his nose scrunches, pulling away at the sensation of his phone vibrating against your hip. “God, what the hell can this kid want now?”

It has to be Jeno. As unsuspecting as you can, you shift to peer over your shoulder where your husband stands with his eyebrows twisted together. “Why did he send me a video.”

He presses play, immediately setting off your fight or flight response and mentally mumbling off a thank you for the kitchen counter keeping you steady on your feet. The sound of your moans blast from your husband’s phone accompanied by heavy deep grunts, skin clapping against skin and his phone screen covered by the image of your lower half rippling under the weight of your step-sons brutal unrelenting thrusts.

“What in the—“

“Oh my god!” You shriek, slapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your shock. Another text pops up at the top of the screen not even a minute later.

Jeno- ‘Sorry about that dad, meant to text that to my group chat. My mistake.’

“This fucking kid.” Your husband mutters, continuing to watch the video with squinted eyes. “The time stamp on this is from the other night?”

To your horror, he looks at you with an even more confused expression, swiping the video away before it comes to an end. “Did that little shit have someone over? After I made myself clear—“

“He went out!” You blurt out, nodding and catching yourself with a grip on the counter behind your back. “I didn’t think to mention it, but he went out that night. Don’t know when he came back.”

Your husband nods, glaring back at his phone. “I guess he got that insatiable sex drive from me.” He grins at that, humored by his own intrigue watching the girl his son was hooking up with. “Got my type too.” Leaving out the part about a tight little ass, he leans over to grab yours with a squeeze and plants a kiss on your cheek.

You offer a laugh, forcing it to sound less uncomfortable than you feel. “You should delete that text babe, I don’t like that you could be looking at other girls when I’m right here.”

“Is my sweet angel jealous?” He chuckles, slapping your butt and opening his phone to show you as he deletes the message. “My son could never land himself a woman that comes close to you, believe me. You have nothing to be worried about.” With a kiss to your lips he makes to exit and head to your bedroom to shower, leaving you alone to collapse against the counter and quell down the urge of panic trapped in your chest.

The buzz from your phone halts your breakdown, grasping over the kitchen island for it to see new messages from your step-son.

Jeno- ‘You think daddy may prefer these?’

Attached are different angles, showing off more of the bed you sleep in with your husband every night, catching peeks of your pleasured face. Jeno’s behind you in the thumbnails sharing an equal image of rolled up eyes and lips parted open. You don’t need to hit play to know how obscene each video must be.

Jeno- ‘You’ll be sure to keep your pretty mouth shut if you know what’s good for you, right? I know you’re a smart girl.’

An image of your legs parted open from behind sends next, backside covered in a mess of your step-son’s cum and wet arousal smeared around your thighs.

Jeno- ‘Be good for me mommy.’

#nct dream smut #nct smut #jeno smut #neopuppy fics #lee jeno fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct fanfic

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lustspren · 3 months

Text

P.S.T EP. 10 | A Little Piece of Heaven ft Winter.

length: 9.2k words✦

Winter & Male Reader

Special Guest: Noze.

genres: oral sex, rough sex, creampie, public sex, degradation, exhibitionism, squirt, voyeurism, bdsm, lesbian, dirty talk, sexual toy kink, scissoring

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Uhm... don't kill me, please," you said with your hands clasped on the table, Noze sitting in front of you. You were in the hotel lobby, you had let Ning sleep a little longer since it was still quite early in the morning, but you needed to talk to the boss alone.

"Just fucking talk, you're making me nervous," she insisted, crossing her arms, she was looking at you so intently that you had to look away from her so as not to stutter while you spoke.

"I'm sorry," you took a deep breath, "well... I took Ning out through a back alley, but as you well know she wasn't feeling well at all," you began.

"She threw up in the alley?"

"Aha," you nodded, "I reached down with her and picked up her hair, and well, I got distracted."

"And?"

"Flashing lights and the sound of a shutter," you sighed, "some son of a bitch photographed us both, but I managed to catch him in time. Let's just say I got a little rough with him and told some little lies. I told him it was better to negotiate with me unless he wanted me to end his shitty career. 50k for the damn SD card," while you were saying that you took the SD card out of your pants pocket to leave it in front of her.

You stared at her, expecting her to grab a plane ticket from her handbag and send your stupid ass back to Korea, but instead she just laughed, leaving you visibly confused.

"Oh my God!" she said between laughs, "you did amazing!"

"Uh… did I?" You frowned.

"Are you kidding? Only 50k? That's a child's figure at this point," she picked up the SD card and examined it carefully before putting it in her handbag, "give me details, you're making it worth getting up at this hour." "

"...Sure," you nodded, still confused by how composed she looked, "uh... I told her I was SM's representative here in the United States," she burst out laughing again, you sighed.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, damn!" She was laughing at you in your face, and your poker face wasn't helping, "You? SM representative?" more laughter, "the whole branch would collapse!"

"Thank you, how sweet," you said sarcastically.

"Anything else worth noting?" she asked as her laughter faded.

"The son of a bitch cracked his head open and called it an insurance policy in case I scammed him. Then he gave me his contact card," you also took it out of your back pocket and handed it to her.

"He certainly is a son of a bitch, yes," she nodded, looking at the face of the guy on the card, "call him."

"Huh? Right now?"

"Yes, why not? I have a few words to say to him."

"Aight," you nodded, and pulled out your phone to dial the number on the card. As the call rang, you left your phone on the table between the two of you.

"Hello?" the man answered from the other side. Noze quickly grabbed your phone and stood up, walking a few feet away from the table to talk to him. You were left alone at the table, looking at the restaurant menu, already thinking about what you were going to order for breakfast. After a couple of minutes she returned, her expression letting you know that everything had gone well.

"Aight, everything in order," she said, taking her seat again, "later today there will be nothing to worry about," you sighed in relief.

"Fuck, thank god. I was so fucking scared when it all happened," you looked down at your lap, thinking about what would have happened if you hadn't been quick enough to catch that guy.

"I know, I can imagine," she nodded slowly, leaning back in her chair as she stared into space. She made a small silence, "... remember when I told you that SM had given me a second chance?" You looked up, you found her eyes on you.

"Yeah, what's up with that?"

"I think it's time for you to know what happened," she looked down, "in short..." she took a deep breath, "I was in a relationship with one of them," you stayed silent and raised both eyebrows in surprise. You waited for her to continue talking, but she was waiting for you to say something.

"I mean… damn," you didn't really know what to say, you had your slight suspicions about it thanks to certain behaviors of hers, but you never wanted to draw the wrong conclusions, "may I know who?"

"Joohyun-ssi..." you noticed how saying her name made her nostalgic, perhaps melancholy, but a small smile appeared on her face, "you know her as Irene."

"Holy fuck!" you exclaimed, this time genuinely surprised. You fell back and sank into the seat, “I don't know why I thought of Seulgi, how did it happen?”

"In the parking lot of her condo," she looked up at you, "there was a fucking bastard in one of the buildings across the street who took pictures of us while we were kissing."

"No way..." you muttered.

"Aha..." she nodded slowly, "luckily the photographer was only looking for money for the photos, and the girls' manager had to cough up a much larger amount of money than what you coughed up."

"How much?"

“250 million won,” your jaw almost dropped to the floor, that was close to 180 thousand dollars.

"What a damn vulture, that's too much."

"I know, but you see, every manager since then has a small fund for situations like this, so 50k is a pretty small amount compared to others."

"Has this happened to you before?"

"Nope, I'm pretty careful about that, but NCT Dream's manager had to cough up an amount close to 200k because one of them was caught smoking... you know."

"Poor boy," you sighed, "he just wanted to be high for a bit," you managed to get a laugh out of her.

"Anyway, I'm really glad you were able to save Ning like that," she said, looking at you with a smirk, "you're not completely useless after all."

"You're being such a sweetheart today," you said sarcastically.

"I know, right?" she responded, also sarcastically, "and since I'm such a sweetheart, I'm going to lift your punishment."

"It's about damn time, mother of god," you let out a breath and rolled your eyes up in relief, "what a torture."

"Just don't screw up again, honey," she placed her hand on yours across the table, "the girls love you, they'd be so sad if you left."

"And what about you? It seems like you've grown fond of me too now," you teased, seeing her hand on yours.

"Oh, look who's coming down," she said quickly, removing her hand to clasp them in her lap, she looked to your right. As you followed her gaze you saw the four girls walking together towards you, each one already dressed and ready to go out as soon as you finished breakfast.

Ning's outfit let you understand that she had been the last to wake up and had dressed as hastily as possible, but her exaggerated beauty prevented her from looking bad, no matter what she was wearing. She just wore a short black skirt and a tank top of the same color to look as cute as ever. She also carried a Miu Miu clutch.

Jimin, looking as comfortable and confident as ever, had her silky black hair down. A white tank top with small black stripes was her choice for today, along with a pair of white flared pants. Like Ning, she went with a handbag, but this was Prada, which happened to be Miu Miu's sister brand. Random fact you heard from Ning at one of your breakfasts.

Giselle was by far the most alternative of the four, she was wearing khaki pants with loose straps, a sheer black knit sweater, and a sleeveless shirt underneath her. She didn't have a handbag, she just had her phone and her airpods in her hand.

Minjeong, on the other hand, didn't even look like she was going to take a flight, she looked like she was ready to go out and pose at a fashion event. You knew she wanted to stand out from the others that day, and you had your suspicions as to why. She revealed every attractive piece of flesh she had: a black crop top with thin straps, which showed everything from her pretty neck, her collarbone, her chest and her shoulders; a short white skirt (which you recognized was from Gucci), which showed off her flat, appetizing midriff, as well as her pair of slim, long, pretty legs. As expected, her handbag was also Gucci, and a black wool jacket was hanging folded on her forearm. To you she radiated pure sex, but you quickly put the thought out of your head since it was too early to have a boner.

"Did you manage to rest a little more baby?" you asked Ning as she approached with her gaze on you.

"I did, thanks honey," she said with a little smile. When she passed behind you, you felt her make the move to lean over to kiss your cheek, but she stopped short when she remembered where you were. Finally she just sat next to you.

"Pretend a little, will you?" Noze warned, "you two are not alone," you two couldn't do anything but lower your gaze and hold back your laughter at the scolding.

For the next ten minutes Noze dedicated herself to explaining to the girls in detail their next activities and everything she had scheduled for them for the day.

"That's all?" Jimin asked, making a mental note as she looked at her.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Noze said as she took a sip of her watermelon juice, "mister fool will go with us in the van," everyone quickly looked up from their plates to see both you and Noze, with a shared reaction of surprise.

"Is he already out of the dog cage?" Giselle asked, "and that means me too?"

"Aha, control your horny ass next time," Noze warned without looking at her. At that moment you felt how Minjeong, sitting on your right, leaned closer to your ear.

"It's about time you got off house arrest," she whispered in your ear, "I was starting to consider fucking one of the security guys if she didn't let you stretch me out soon," you had to hide your reaction as you ate your omelet.

When you all finished your breakfast you stood up in the rush to make the last preparations before leaving for the airport. The staff members began to fill the lobby with boxes, luggage and other inventory of utmost importance for the tour. You offered to help upload some things, it wasn't your job anymore, but you had done it long enough to get used to it, and besides, the staff was too nice not to help them out from time to time.

Once everything was in order and prepared, you all began to get into the van. You took a seat next to the left window, Jimin sat diagonally to the right, Ning to your right at the other end, and Minjeong right in front of you. Giselle sat behind, focused on her phone. Noze on the other hand settled into the passenger seat while she took out her laptop from her bag.

"So," Jimin took off an airpod to look at Noze, "is he allowed to provide services again?" Noze continued to stare at the screen of her laptop.

"Everything is back to normal," Noze nodded, "but for the love of God, be careful, I won't allow another mistake like that."

As Noze spoke Minjeong made eye contact with you for a few seconds, then she pointed down, and when you looked down she spread her legs as wide as the seat would allow. She hadn't bothered to wear anything under her skirt, so you had a perfect view of her pretty, perfectly shaved pussy. You wanted to tell her something, but you didn't want anyone to hear it.

"I'm going to fucking destroy you," you said, just moving your lips as you looked into her eyes. She just smiled and looked out the window, crossing her legs again.

Upon arriving at the airport you quickly went through each checkpoint since the private jet that would take you to Dallas was already ready to take off. As you boarded and settled into the cabin you examined the interior, the jet was not as spectacular as the one that brought you to America, but it was already much better than an average plane, and it was quite nice. Light wood interiors and perfectly shiny champagne leather seats.

As soon as you entered, there were four seats forming a square, two on the left and two on the right. Then there were two double seats with a table in the middle, and to the left, a small table with a large drawer underneath. In the last area of the cabin, a large sofa, and a door that you assumed was the bathroom. Minjeong quickly took your hand and pulled you with her to the double seats so that you sat next to her, a move that worked perfectly because the four missing girls had taken the four missing seats behind you. Nobody was going to see anything.

Minjeong didn't waste a single second of time, as soon as you settled into the seats she grabbed your right forearm and brought your hand straight between her legs, your fingers now touching her pussy.

"Just use one finger..." she murmured in your ear, "I really need to feel myself stretching around that cock while we're at cruising altitude."

"That's kinda kinky, Minjeong-ah," you murmured back, rubbing your fingers up and down between her folds.

"Are you kidding? That sounds like an incredible idea to me..." she gasped as she looked at you, "you fucking me forty thousand feet up… just imagine that."

"So naughty, my god," you smiled, finally taking a finger inside her tight pussy as the plane raised its nose and rose into the air.

When your finger reached as deep as it could go inside her pussy you began to slowly move your wrist, causing Minjeong to let out an audible little moan that made you stop for a second because you were sure someone would have heard it.

"Everything okay back there?" you heard Noze ask.

"Everything's perfect, boss," Minjeong replied, biting her lower lip in the middle of a smirk. Out of curiosity, you looked over the side of your seat. Ning had already fallen asleep, Jimin was reading a book, and Noze was focused on her laptop. You couldn't fully see Giselle since she was behind you, but you noticed that she was playing Brawl Stars on her phone.

"Keep fucking quiet," you muttered as you turned back around and resumed pumping your wrist.

"Let go, idiot," she snapped with her mouth half open, bringing her hand to your cock over your sweatpants to massage it between gasps.

After a few seconds she took your cock out of your sweatpants and started rubbing it up and down, following the rhythm of your wrist while your finger went in and out of her. She had her lips pursed, stifling as many moans as she could just like you.

As soon as she noticed that the plane had gained enough altitude, she took off the belt that held her waist and stood up. You also took off your seat belt, and when she passed in front of you to get out of the seats, you stood up and followed her to the bathroom. It was more spacious than a normal plane, but your recent experiences let you know that it was nothing so impressive.

When you both entered you didn't even have time to lock the door behind you before she was already bent over the sink, her skirt wrapped around her waist and her pretty ass exposed for you.

"Not a coffee or anything?" you joked, standing behind her with a little smile.

"Shut up and fuck me raw asshole," she ordered, looking over her shoulder with a sensual look, "rip off those pants and put all that juicy cock inside me, I need to feel stretched and filled by you."

You knew that Minjeong was by far the horniest and most sex-crazed of all the girls, but she never ceased to amaze you how dirty she could talk sometimes. You didn't want to make her wait any longer, so you pulled down your sweatpants and boxers in a single pull towards your ankles to free your cock. One hand of yours went to her waist, and with the other you took your cock to rub it between her folds up and down, you let out a spit towards your cock and lubricated it well, and without any more time to waste you went all the way inside her, remembering how incredibly good her extremely tight and hot pussy felt.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, resting your pelvis against her buttocks as her pussy walls stretched around your shaft, "I missed this tight little pussy."

"Yeah? Because you're filling me up so fucking good," she moaned with her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you, "do you like the way my pussy squeezes that cock daddy?" another of them who called you that way, two out of four.

"I fucking love it," you growled, giving both of her buttocks a hard squeeze and then spanking one of them. Minjeong squealed, and you started pumping your hips back and forth.

Minjeong's folds kept a firm grip around your cock, which was smothered from all directions by her warm, tight pussy walls. Your fingers held tightly to her small waist, feeling her soft flesh against your skin as your cock moved completely in and out of her fragile frame. In a few seconds she was already being hammered by your cock, and her moans began to echo off the bathroom walls.

You and her were locked in a bubble of pure lust and desire, which held strong for a few more thrusts until a series of frantic knocks on the door made you stop in your tracks.

"You better open that damn door immediately!" you heard Noze exclaim from the other side. Minjeong cleared her throat in annoyance, and with your balls deep inside her she left the sink to lean towards the door.

"What can I do for you?" Minjeong said with a false tone of friendliness after opening the door wide open. Noze did not look at all disturbed by the lewd scene before her eyes.

"Look, this tour is going to kill me with a migraine one of these days, so if you would be so kind, go fuck in the cabin so I can watch you and distract myself a little," she made eye contact with you as she spoke, and just God knows how intimidated yet surprised you felt. You didn't know what to say or do, you were on autopilot at that moment, and never better said.

"And what about the girls?" Minjeong asked.

"Do you care?" Noze returned.

"Not really, I love having an audience," saying that Minjeong straightened her body and made your cock come out of her pussy. Noze looked at it for a few seconds and then looked into your eyes, until she turned around and took the lead, Minjeong followed her, and you followed Minjeong.

"All the spotlight is on you, show off," Noze said as she returned to her seat. You had taken off your sweatpants and boxers along the way, and now you were completely naked from the waist down standing behind the seats where Ning and Giselle were. Minjeong unbuttoned her skirt and lowered it to her heels, where she also took off her heels before getting on her hands and knees with her ass raised facing you.

“Come and fuck me daddy, it's show time,” Minjeong said, looking back over her shoulder at you.

"Jesus Christ, are you really going to do this here right now?" Giselle said with a giggle to your left as you knelt behind Minjeong.

"Orders from above, nothing to do about it," you replied to Giselle in English, before spitting again on your cock and plunging back into Minjeong's tight pussy. Her ass rested against your pelvis, and with a spank to her milky buttock you began to fuck her again, this time with Noze's gaze on you.

"Do you like what you see, boss?" Minjeong asked Noze between squeals of pleasure, as you slapped her ass with each thrust, "He's stretching my pussy so fucking good, mhmmm!"

"What a slut..." Giselle mentioned next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye while she played on her phone. Ning on the other hand was still fast asleep, and Jimin wasn't even bothering to pay attention to you.

"I bet you're pretty fucking horny right now huh?" Minjeong teased Noze, who had already unbuttoned her pants to put a hand inside them, "Fuck yeah, you love what you see, who knew," you gave her another hard spank so she screamed in pleasure, your cock frantically hammering her pussy.

"Shut your damn mouth Minjeong," Noze moaned as she bit her lip, "and you," she looked into your eyes, "lie on your back, I want to see how she rides you," you did so, pulling out of Minjeong to lie on the floor, she straddled you to impale herself on your cock again, but Noze intervened, "not like that, turn around," Minjeong raised an eyebrow and turned around, to ride you in a reverse cowgirl position.

"So you want to look me in the eye while I jump on this cock, huh?" Minjeong said with a mischievous giggle as she took you inside her again, beginning to sensually move her hips back and forth. You had perfect views, Minjeong's ass moving on your cock and meters ahead, Noze fingering herself between discrete moans.

"Oh my god... look at that bulge on your abdomen," Noze moaned, and she proceeded to remove both her pants and her panties. She spread her legs wide, and that was your first view of her pussy. Your mouth watered, “Jimin-ssi…” she motioned for Jimin to listen to her, Jimin took off one of the headphones and turned to look at her, “would you mind coming over here and putting that tongue to work?”

"Fuck, Adolin is about to have his duel against Relis and Jamakav," Jimin complained, closing 'The Way of Kings' and removing her headphones, "you owe me a favor."

Jimin knelt in front of Noze's seat, and without thinking twice she plunged her face right into her crotch. Noze moaned louder as she held Jimin by her hair, being eaten in the best possible way by a tongue that you knew was not inexperienced with.

"I can't believe you agreed that easily..." Minjeong moaned, teasing Jimin, who gave her the middle finger while she ate Noze's pussy. Minjeong planted her feet on the floor on either side of your hips, leaned back to rest her hands on your arms, and began jumping up and down quickly, making the bulge on her stomach even more visible for Noze. You groaned in pleasure, feeling Minjeong's pussy tighten around your shaft, and enjoying everything that was happening in front of your eyes.

"I'm so close, fuck!" you said with a moan, already feeling at the point of no return thanks to Minjeong's jumps on your cock and the image of Noze being devoured by Jimin, who seemed to be putting her soul and sweat into her work, since boss’s face was pure pleasure.

"Creampie her!!" Noze squeaked to your surprise, tangling her fingers in strands of Jimin's hair.

"You heard her daddy… drain those balls into my tight little pussy," Minjeong moaned, looking down at you over her shoulder. She started jumping faster and harder, you groaned in pleasure, and brought your hands to her waist to help her go all the way up and down your throbbing cock.

After a few seconds in which Minjeong didn't stop jumping on your cock for a single second, you exploded. You growled deep in your throat, feeling yourself shoot your load into her warm pussy. Feeling the thick, hot liquid inside her, Minjeong gave one last hard push down and brought her orgasm. Her moans filled the entire cabin, and in search of increasing her pleasure she began to grind her hips back and forth with your cock deep inside her pussy, still shooting cum.

For Noze, the climax was also a matter of seconds, she just had to watch how Minjeong very slowly took your cock out of her pussy, and how the cum spilled out of it, to press Jimin's face towards her pussy while her orgasm made her scream. You also heard a moan from Jimin as she ate out Noze while she came.

"Fuck, you made her completely full," Noze moaned, "do you feel full and stretched already, Minjeong-ah?" she asked looking into her eyes.

"Very, very full and stretched by this juicy, delicious, magnificent cock," Minjeong agreed, getting off of you to kneel on your side, lean towards your crotch and start cleaning your cock, lower abdomen and balls between licks and sucks. She didn't stop until your cock was completely clean and she had swallowed all your cum.

"Like I was telling you..." Jimin pulled away from Noze's pussy as she wiped her chin, "you owe me a favor," she remarked before returning to her seat, putting on her headphones, and returning to the book.

"Ah... yeah, sure," Noze nodded, still spread-legged, realizing everything that had happened, she made eye contact with you, and then with Minjeong, "Uhm... get dressed and get comfortable, there's still a couple of hours left to land," she said with slightly blushing cheeks.

"Nice wet pussy, boss," Minjeong teased with a giggle, "but next time let me eat it myself… it looks so yummy."

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Upon landing in Dallas, none of you had time or mind to talk about what happened while you were more than ten thousand meters high, everything was a slight chaos and rush as soon as you set foot in the airport, and within an hour you were already at the hotel where you were going to stay. Everyone, both members and staff members, you and Noze, went to your respective rooms to rest as soon as everything was in order.

You didn't have any plans for that afternoon, so you invited Ning (as always, going through Noze's approval first) to your room to watch a movie before bedtime. You and her had a nice little time watching The Batman, cuddling on your bed and sharing a few little kisses until the movie ended, and then spending 15 minutes discussing the movie until she had to left.

When you were left alone in your room, the first thing you did was go take a long, relaxing bath that helped you get rid of all the tiredness and physical exhaustion that you had accumulated throughout the day. You left the bathroom, got dressed, and lay down on your bed to take out your phone and let the ITZY girls know that you were already in the next city safe and sound. The next day's activities forced you to go to sleep early that night, so as soon as you read the girls' answers and said goodbye to them, you turned off all the lights in your room and fell asleep.

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The next morning you tried to talk to Noze about what had happened to no avail, since as soon as you all finished breakfast she started giving orders left and right. She had ordered you in particular to go to the venue and prepare everything in the dressing room with the stylists team and makeup artists. Everything took longer than you had estimated and you no longer had any time to go to the hotel and then come back, so you just told Noze that you were going to wait for them there.

The girls arrived at the venue after about fifteen minutes, but you didn't have time to talk or even interact with any of them since they had to rush through sound tests, wardrobe tests, and then put on makeup. Hours passed, and you noticed how the crowd of people began to fill the place. When you least expected it, it was time for them to go on stage, and you stayed with Noze on the side stage while you watched the concert.

"Are we going to talk about that little scene on the plane or...?" You brought the topic up from under the table, Noze took a deep breath, tilted her head and crossed her arms with her eyes on the stage. The girls were performing Savage at the time.

"Look, I promise we'll talk about it at some point, but for now don't pressure me, okay?" She turned to see you, you were both shoulder to shoulder, so when you turned your head too, your faces were not very far from each other.

"It's okay, I'm sorry," you said, looking into her eyes, "I didn't mean to, I just didn't expect that."

"I understand, but we'll talk about it," she assured, also looking at you, "now shut up and watch the concert."

"I've already seen it 3 times," you both turned again to look at the stage.

"You have the chance to see those four goddesses performing from here, take it."

"Well, you have a point."

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When the concert ended you helped the staff store all the things and load them into the vans, after that, you got into the van with the girls and Noze and returned to the hotel. Everyone went to their respective rooms to take baths before going down to dinner or to sleep, but your plans were to order some food that night and lock yourself up until one of the girls required your attention. The message didn't take long to arrive, and you didn't even have time to order your food.

As soon as you answered Minjeong you stood up and opened your suitcase to change into something more comfortable. Your choice was a pair of navy blue sports shorts, an oversized black Nike hoodie, and your granite Yeezy Sliders. You didn't care too much about arranging your hair so well, or putting on perfume or anything like that, you only had your phone and barely a half-finished pack of Mentos in your pockets. The only thing you made sure you had covered was to tell the boss.

You waited for a few minutes for Noze to respond, but the messages never arrived, which you found very strange indeed. She always responded the minute you said something, and you could only think of two things, either she was taking a shower, or she had already fallen asleep. You doubted both, but you left your room anyway and headed to Minjeong's.

When you got to Minjeong's room you didn't even bother to knock on the door or call her, you just opened it wide as if it were your room. What happened on the plane was insignificant compared to what you saw now in front of your eyes, and now you knew why Noze wasn't answering your messages. Minjeong was tied by the ankles and wrists behind her back with thick visibly tight red ropes, next to her, Noze completely naked as she inserted a not at all small dildo into Minjeong's pussy.

"Wow," you hurried inside and locked the door behind you, Minjeong and Noze turned to look at you, "What's going on, what the fuck."

"Well, it looks like we don't need fake cocks anymore," Noze said, looking at you, and then took the dildo out of Minjeong's pussy, who let out a moan. She had her legs up with her thighs pressed against her abdomen, so you had a perfect view of her pussy and her butthole soaked in what looked like Noze's saliva.

"This is certainly not how I imagined I would see you naked for the first time," you told Noze, scrutinizing her small, tight, toned body. She didn't have the biggest ass or tits, but she was sexy on a level that you didn't even know how to explain.

"Bold of you to think you were going to see me naked before all this," she said, putting the dildo aside to stand up and go sit on the single couch on the right side of the room, in front of the window covered by the curtains.

"Was I wrong?" you teased.

"It doesn't matter, because you're seeing me naked right now," she spread her legs and grabbed one of those microphone-shaped vibrators, "pretend I'm not here and get to work."

"It's hard when your pussy is looking me right in the eye," you said, placing your phone on a small bench at the foot of the bed. You took the packet of fruit mentos out of your pocket and popped one into your mouth.

"You're gonna keep talking to her or are you gonna come here and fuck my brains out?" Minjeong teased from the bed, she had managed to lie on her side.

"We already played your little game on the plane, Minjeongie," you climbed onto the bed with her and got on your knees as you took off your hoodie, "but now it's my turn, and I'll do whatever I want with you."

"Then go ahead and use me as a puny sex toy daddy," she told you, biting her lip.

"Finger her and make her cum," Noze ordered to your right. You heard the vibrator turn on.

"You're lucky we think the same," you replied to Noze, "let's keep it up and I think our Minjeongie will end the night completely destroyed."

You took off your sliders and sat on the bed, pulling your shorts and boxers down to your ankles and off your legs with a single tug. Now the three of you were completely naked. The first thing you did was kneel in front of Minjeong's ass to lean forward and start filling the side of her face with kisses. Your mouth moved from her jaw to her chin, from where you moved down to her neck to fill it with hickeys and wet kisses. Minjeong shifted between gasps beneath you. Her ass rubbed against your balls, and when she noticed it she continued moving her hips to try her luck and thus press herself against your hard cock. Not wanting her to get what she wanted, you placed her body on her back and now took her perky little tits to your mouth.

Minjeong let out small moans as your tongue met her soft nipples and stimulated them between licks, kisses and sucks. Your hands roamed all over her slender body, using your massage skills to hit the right parts and make her melt beneath you. The notable parts that you identified as weak points for her were her lower abdomen, her lower back, and her inner thighs. You would remember that later.

While you continued devouring her tits you placed one hand between her thighs and ran your two fingers up and down between her slit, her folds already soaked and slimy. Maybe Noze had already made her cum before? It was most likely, but tonight you wanted to see Minjeong completely ruined and at your mercy. You took two fingers inside her, both sliding in easily, eliciting a louder squeal.

"Slap and degrade that whore if she dares to speak, she is not allowed," ordered Noze, who saw out of the corner of your eye how she already had the vibrator pressed to her clit, "she is just our sex slave right now."

"Did you hear that, baby?" You asked Minjeong as you continued sucking on her tits and began to move your wrist at a moderate speed, fingers in and out of her pussy, "you better stay silent."

"It's not like I dislike that punishment," she teased with an evil smile, and since you had your good hand busy, you spit on her cheekbone, "oh fuck yes, spit on me daddy..." she moaned, and you pulled out your fingers from her pussy just to have your hand available to slap her hard, make her gape her mouth and spit into it.

"Shut the fuck up, I'm not going to repeat it," with that said you proceeded to move your wrist as hard as you could, filling the hotel room with the sounds of your palm slapping against her buttocks, the wet sounds and Minjeong's moans. Noze still didn't dare to raise her voice too much, but with every second that passed you heard her moan louder.

You dove back into Minjeong's tits, sucking on both nipples as your fingers stretched her tight pussy non-stop. Your wrist was a machine at its maximum power, made to make the tied girl's body a tangle of tremors and small spasms of pleasure perfectly hitting her sensitive spot. While your tongue and fingers drove Minjeong crazy you turned your head slightly to make eye contact with Noze, who was still with the vibrator still firmly pressed against her pussy. Her face distorted with pleasure was a poem to you, as was watching her squirm.

"S-Stop looking at me..." Noze said, looking away, now to see Minjeong, "cum, you fucking whore."

You stopped watching her not because you wanted to, but because Minjeong started screaming the way she did when she was close to cumming. She opened her mouth to say something, but her position made her remember that it was not her role to do so, so she just bit the pillow that was next to her and in a matter of seconds she exploded around your fingers, which were soaked with her warm fluids and dripped part of their thighs.

"Mmm, you cummed a lot honey," you smiled, moving up to give her more kisses on her neck. Then you grabbed her chin and forced her to look at you with slightly glassy eyes, "now it's your turn to satisfy daddy, would you like that?" She just nodded, "Good girl."

"But I wanted you to eat her pussy!" Noze protested.

"Come and do it yourself then, cutie," you said looking at her, she seemed a little surprised at your boldness, but she didn't refuse either. She stood up while you knelt on the side of Minjeong's face, climbed onto the bed and went to work on the knot in Minjeong's heels.

"I have a better idea," once she untied the knot holding Minjeong's legs, she spread them wide and settled into a scissors position with her, "mmm, so wet and hot," Noze moaned, as she pressed their pussies together, then she looked at you, "what are you waiting for? fuck that pretty face."

"As ordered boss," you nodded, taking your cock in one hand and looking down at Minjeong, who was already beginning to move her hips to rub her pussy against Noze's while she looked at your flesh with eyes of pure desire, "You're craving it huh?" you teased, slamming your cock against her lips. She stuck her tongue out immediately to make your tip smack against it.

"Mmmhm, of course she does," Noze moaned, holding on to one of Minjeong's legs as she ground her hips, "she's a slut who enjoys being used."

You brought your left hand behind Minjeong's neck, holding her head to raise it and bring your cock directly to her mouth. Her lips closed around your cock and put pressure on it, you let her move her head on her own for a few seconds in which she could only suck half of your shaft and leave it shiny with her saliva, but her moment of freedom was over when you brought both hands to her head and started pumping your hips back and forth.

As your cock made its way through her warm mouth you noticed her throat showing some resistance past the middle of your shaft, but you weren't there to be merciful or patient, so you didn't give a shit if she choked or not, you just pushed forward. Minjeong coughed and gagged and squirmed for air, but you didn't stop until your cock was buried deep in her throat in a thick pool of saliva, spilling out the sides of her mouth and dripping down to the sheets.

Noze meanwhile was clinging to Minjeong's thigh between no longer timid moans, you turned to look at her as she bit her lip and rubbed against Minjeong's pussy as if her life depended on it. You, on the other hand, began to pump your hips back and forth, with Minjeong's cute little teary eyes looking at you and her mouth moaning around your cock since it wasn't just Noze who was receiving pleasure from what she was doing.

A growl left your throat as you felt Minjeong's throat get used to your length, now allowing you to move harder without fear of hurting her in any way. You grabbed a fistful of her hair and held onto it to move her head towards your cock with each thrust, you wanted to reach out and touch her clit too, but that meant risking touching Noze, and since you didn't know if she was okay with you touching her, you just didn't do it.

Noze was immersed in her own world at that point, just listening to the sound of your cock hitting Minjeong's throat with each thrust and grinding her hips desperately in search of an orgasm that was not long in coming. You had already seen her cum just hours ago, but she impressed you again with how incredibly hot and sexy her face looked while her body writhed in pleasure. She rubbed her own clitoris and also Minjeong's, squeezing out every last drop of ecstasy. Her moans filled the room and echoed in your ears, you could tell she barely had time to please herself by how liberated she sounded.

Minjeong, who not only enjoyed how Noze touched her but also how you fucked her throat as if she were just an object, moaned from the depths of her being and let out a few tears that ran down her cheeks and mixed with the saliva that spilled from her mouth. You pulled her hair hard and carelessly, pumping your cock completely in and out of her mouth. Since you had one hand free and you already considered that her tits had had enough attention, you had no choice but to bring it to her neck, where you pressed your fingers firmly and felt how your cock bulged every time you reached the her throat. That drove you completely crazy and fueled your flame, you felt closer and closer to cumming.

"Where do you want me to cum, boss?" you asked Noze without looking at her, just looking at Minjeong's weak, blushing, pleasure-drunk face while you ruined her angelic face with your cock.

"Fill her throat with cum, don't let her waste a damn drop," Noze growled, biting her lower lip, she had stopped rubbing her clit to now focus on Minjeong's, "I'll make that whore squirt."

You removed your right hand from Minjeong's neck to now bring it to her head next to the other, now with both grips on her hair you became a complete animal and began to hit her throat without any mercy, as hard and fast as you could. Minjeong, recognizing what you liked most, stuck out her tongue and pressed it against the back of your cock, which now rubbed against it with each pump and ended up putting the icing on the cake.

As you reached your orgasm you buried Minjeong's head towards you and started shooting your entire load down her throat, just in time for Minjeong to reach her second (maybe third) orgasm of the night, this time more wild and with an extra prize. A stream of squirt shot out of Minjeong's pussy as she twisted her hips between spasms, which soaked Noze's entire chest and also the sheets.

You couldn't help but grunt in pleasure as Minjeong squealed around your cock and you shot thick streams of cum straight down her throat, her moans mixed with strong gag reflexes, but she was able to get through it without much trouble as she swallowed every drop she received. When you emptied your load you came out of her mouth, and she could finally breathe properly.

"You sure did a good fucking job huh?" you said looking at Minjeong, with her mouth, her chin and almost every part of her upper body stained with saliva in some way. Her hair had also become very disheveled and some of her makeup had smudged.

"Don't you even dare give her a break," Noze said, climbing on top of Minjeong's body to kiss her in a torrid and passionate way, you had to lean back so as not to touch Noze, although in the same way, she was practically tasting both your cock and your cum in that kiss. You didn't comment on anything.

"Well I need to handle her as I please, so could you get off of her," you said sitting on your calves as the two of them continued kissing.

"I want her to eat me, so find the position that seems best to you," Noze asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye to get off of Minjeong.

"I already fucked her from behind earlier, so a missionary will be perfect," with that said you waited for Noze to completely pull away before going and kneeling between Minjeong's trembling legs. You looked at her, her face said she was exhausted, but her eyes screamed at you to fuck her with the strength of a bull.

"I'm sorry for having to cover her pretty face," Noze said, straddling Minjeong's face and surprisingly facing you, "I know you want to see her cry and spit on her like the slut she is, but I need to cum one more time, sweetness," She said all this while looking you straight in the eyes, and again you felt somewhat intimidated.

"Use her as much as you want, I know you need it," you nodded, not bothering to hide how you looked at her pretty little tits and her flat, toned stomach.

"You're going to ogle me," she said as you grabbed Minjeong's legs and spread them wide, hands on her trembling thighs, "at least hide it."

"Nah, you're beautiful and your body makes my mouth water, why hide it," Noze raised an eyebrow at your compliment and while maintaining eye contact with you, she lowered her hips to sit on Minjeong's face, who started to eat and caused her to let out a long, sensual moan inches from you.

"Improve those hook up lines, you're not telling me anything I don't already know," she said arrogantly, and in response you played the same game, maintaining eye contact with her as you took your cock inside Minjeong's pussy. She moaned against Noze's pussy, and she gasped as a result.

From that moment on, you and Noze locked yourself in a common bubble in which Minjeong gave you incredible satisfaction and pleasure, her with her skillful tongue and you with her tight pussy, which suffocated your cock even after you had stretched it with your fingers a few minutes ago. Noze played with Minjeong's tits, pinching her nipples with her fingers and also using her mounds as support to grind her hips into her face.

You kept a firm grip on Minjeong's thighs, pressing them back and consequently raising her pelvis slightly. You couldn't lean forward to fuck her into her mattress since Noze was in the way, so you just worked from that same position. You didn't need to be patient, just a few seconds with your cock deep in her pussy were enough for her to get used to it and give you the green light to fuck her.

Noze grinded her hips faster and harder against Minjeong's face, in a way that made you confirm her past as a dancer, almost hypnotic and sensual like few things you had seen in your life. Not being able to do anything but move your hips, you stared at her, and for a few seconds you imagined that you were not fucking Minjeong, but her. That made you moan, and strangely you felt a small boost of arousal in you.

She was looking at you too, she licked both of her fingers and you naively thought they were for you, but she reached for Minjeong's pussy and started rubbing her clit again. Now her hand was dangerously close to your cock as it went in and out, but to your disappointment, you knew she wouldn't touch it.

Seeing her hand so close to your cock was somewhat tortuous for you, so in order not to see it you put Minjeong's legs together, with her two feet in the air and her heels held together, that way her thighs covered what was happening behind. Still, you prevented Minjeong's feet from blocking your vision, so you continued watching Noze grinding against Minjeong's mouth between loud moans.

With your hands pressing her thighs back, your cock slamming against her pussy as fast as your hips would go, and Noze's fingers stimulating her clit, Minjeong's body became a trembling mess that Noze benefited from, her thighs pressed on either side of Minjeong's head. She stopped looking at you to close her eyes and purse her lips to drown out her screams of pleasure. You noticed that she was close, but what gave Noze the finishing touch was Minjeong's orgasm, who screamed and shook under her.

"OH FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" Noze screeched.

With both girls cumming in front of you, you couldn't do anything but pump your hips slower and wait patiently for both petite bodies to stop squirming and shaking. Noze wanted to collapse forward, but when she saw that you were there she did so but in the opposite direction, resting her hands on her mattress and falling off of Minjeong's face, who seemed anything but energetic.

"Don't… don't stop using me daddy," Minjeong said in a low voice, still breathing very heavily, "you haven't put another load inside me yet," rules were rules, so you slapped her hard.

"You still have energy left to take daddy's load huh?" you teased, leaving her pussy to grab her by the waist and lay her face down. For the first time in a while you saw her red hands tied behind her back.

“I could do this all night…” Minjeong replied, looking at you from the corner of her eye. Two strong and spicy spanks on each buttocks, both of them left red.

"I don't doubt it, you are a dirty high caliber sex toy..." you got on top of Minjeong's body, took your cock in your hand to take it between her buttocks and dive deep into her pussy again, to fuck her in prone bone.

Minjeong let out a breathless grunt of pleasure as she felt you inside again. You left your hands resting on the mattress on either side of her body, beginning to pump quickly up and down and pinning her against the mattress with all the weight of your body. With each thrust she let out small moans without energy, not because she was not enjoying it, but because her body was almost in vegetable mode at that moment, product of many intense orgasms in a row and without rest, not to mention that she was deprived of comfortable breathing twice.

You growled like a primal beast, bringing one of your hands to her hair to forcefully pull it back and the other to her lower back, under her tied wrists, you pressed there, and Minjeong began to pant and grunt more.

"Mmmmmghhh, just like that, yes yes yes," she grunted, then letting out little whimpers as you hammered her pussy up and down, already feeling close to your ecstasy, "don't you fucking stop daddy, oh my god!"

Your hand moved from her hair to her neck, pressing it down to crush the side of her face against the pillow. A drop of sweat fell from your forehead to her pretty back, and with a few more hard thrusts you started another load inside her pussy. This was the trigger for Minjeong's last orgasm of the night, the one that was going to leave her completely ruined.

"Oh my god Minjeong!" You groaned in pleasure, feeling her pussy walls tighten almost painfully around your cock as you shot your last drops of cum into her, moving your hips slowly up and down. She didn't make any sound as she came, you could only see her lost eyes and her mouth half open as her body spasmed in every corner.

"I... need to go to the bathroom," said Noze, who had watched everything in complete silence, "i-it won't be long," you turned to look at her as you pulled out of Minjeong's filled pussy. She didn't seem happy at all, in fact, you could see her eyes filling with tears as she got off the bed.

"Uhm… are you o…kay?" you asked unsuccessfully as Noze went into the bathroom. You heard how she locked it.

You were left alone there with Minjeong, who was nothing more than a lifeless rag doll at that moment. Her pussy dripping with cum and her body still not getting over the slight spasms. There was nothing to clean since Noze had locked herself in the bathroom, so you had to make do with a random piece of clothing you found on the floor to clean yourself and Minjeong. Then you just laid down next to her and rested.

After about 15 minutes Noze finally came out of the bathroom, you noticed her eyes were somewhat red. She had definitely been crying, but you didn't want to push her.

"Aight, I'm fine, stop looking at me with those worried puppy eyes," she insisted, reaching for her clothes, "I just had a... mental breakdown."

“You sure?" you asked, sitting on the bed, watching her as she put on her panties and bra.

"Yeah, dork, now get dressed so we can get out of here, she needs to sleep peacefully," she pointed with her chin at Minjeong, who was still in the exact same position you had left her in, "she'll manage in the morning. "

"Fair enough," you sighed, stood up and dressed as quickly as you could with Noze. None of you made eye contact with each other, you just turned off the lights, turned on Minjeong's air conditioning and walked outside, separating paths towards your respective rooms.

—---------------------------------

Spren Notes: P.S.T is back :0

#winter smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #smut fanfic #x male reader smut #noze smut #wayb noze smut #x male smut #x male reader #male reader smut

1K notes · View notes

hopelesslyromanticshark · 14 days

Note

LOML BABY CUTIE PIE SNOOKUMS 💕🦋

SO THAT YOUR SEXY LIL BRAIN DOESN'T FORGET :

The lover boys ( Percy, Leo, Jason, Conner, Luke , Frank) overhearing reader talking about them and afterwards realising that reader is THE ONE for them

Mhuaw Mhuaw 💋

⋆⭒˚.⋆ can't have a conversation if it's not all about you! hcs

content: hcs for leo valdez, frank zhang, luke castellan, percy jackson & jason grace warning: some language but that's it!! author's note: ta daaaaa! i like doing matching stories to one's ive already written!! and love love love how these match the other group hcs i did, probs gonna put it as a part two on the masterlist even tho i kinda isn't, ya know??? whatever it's my blog lmao-

𝜗𝜚 leo valdez

leo had no shame

originally, he had no intentions of eavesdropping

but then he heard you talking as he passed by the window of your cabin and couldn't help but stand nearby

and, boy, was he glad that he did

his smile was a mile wide as he heard you talk so passionately about him

that's right, you've been yapping away about leo for at least an hour

"and you should see the way he looks at me when he makes me laugh. it's just- it's just this wide smile and he can't seem to take his eyes off me."

leo blushed slightly at that comment, completely unaware that you had caught onto that look, the one he only reserved for you

"and he's the sweetest, always looking out for me. oh! and the gifts are never ending and he's the best cuddler i've like ever met. and, so, so funny."

leo was certain he was short circuiting, the wires of his heart fraying and twisting in unnatural ways. in ways that would make his mechanic father disappointed

"you must really love him," one of your siblings mused and leo waited with baited breath, leaning slightly closer to the window to hear you better

"more than i could put into words. i'm...i'm lucky the fates gave him to me - more than lucky."

that was the day leo started working on your engagement ring, determined to never spend another day without you by his side

𝜗𝜚 frank zhang

frank was a good boy, be it either his roman bones or his canadian heritage, he made sure to always follow rules and respect peoples privacy

...except for today

he allowed himself this exception as he stood in one of the many hallways new rome had to offer, leaning against the way as he heard your voice drift through the corridor

you couldn't have been more than a few yards away, your voice easily carrying to frank's ears

"he gives the best hugs!"

"bear hugs?" your friend laughed and frank's lips twitched upwards at the comment

"shut up! he's sweet too! so, so sweet! and gentle. for a son of mars, he holds me so softly."

frank stood a little taller at the comments, pride filling his body in a way it never has before

sure, lots of people have told him similar things, but something about it coming from you left the boy reeling with pride

"cmon, be honest. is he, ya know, the one?" your friend whispered but frank still heard it

he paled at the connotation, his fingers crossed as he counted the seconds in between your response.

"honestly? he's the other half of my soul. we're tied together and he's not getting rid of me anytime soon."

that afternoon, frank signed up for an wedding magazine subscription, wanting to keep up to date on the wedding scene, as he figured it would become important to him and you in the near future

𝜗𝜚 luke castellan

luke had taken a break from practice with his sword, laying on the ground all sweaty and grimy

his water bottle had long since been emptied but he was far too tired to get up and refill it

after a few minutes of rest, he'd finally decided the water would be worth the pain of his taunt muscles

as he made his way to the water fountain, he paused as his eyes caught sight of you and a wood nymph talking

he smirked to himself, moving closer with the full intentions of stealing a kiss but he paused as your words started to reach his ears

he then hid behind a tree, only peeking out every now and then when he knew you weren't looking

"gods, i've never met a guy so romantic. did i tell you that he stole all of my favorite bags of chips from the camp store? and you wanna know why? mind you, this is a direct quote, he said 'because no one but my girl deserves this chips to grace her lips.' like...bro."

the wood nymph cooed, the flowers in her hair brightening in color at the romantic thoughts

in fact, the red tulips were matching the shade of luke's cheeks pretty well

and that's quite the feat as the boy wasn't a big blusher

"and watching him train will always leave me drooling. you hear that olivia rodrigo leaked song, prison for life?? like, that's literally him!! he's so protective but in a good way, ya know??"

luke shook his head despite knowing the fact you couldn't see him

you've brought that song up so many times since you heard it, telling luke that it always reminded you of him

and luke would never admit it, but he listened to the song on his own time

and he couldn't help but agree with you

he'd kill for you and you didn't even need to ask him to

he'd just do it because you were worth any consequence he'd face after

"so, you love him?" the wood nymph questioned eagerly

and luke was just as eager to hear the answer

"...i'd kill for him, too. i'd do anything to keep him close, hurt anyone. hell, i'd tear down olympus for that boy."

and that you would, eventually.

all with a shiny ring on your finger, put there by the boy who'd lost his way

and you were more than happy to get lost with him, too, as long as it meant his hand in yours

𝜗𝜚 percy jackson

percy knew better than to listen to rumors

especially from sea flora and fauna

but, when the shark swam up to him with naiads in tow, percy couldn't help but listen

"lord! lord! you'll never believe what we just heard!" the shark cried, swimming circles around percy in his excitement

"go on," percy encouraged, briefly passing his hand over the shark's fin before the shark was mentally gasping in a big breath to do a long ramble

"okay okay okay! so, your lady in waiting had been talking with a few of the river naiads up stream. and she was talking about you, my lord!"

percy was silently waiting for the new information to come

he was well aware of the fact that you struggled to have conversations that didn't revolve around him

and he would know as he struggled with a similar issue when it came to you

"and she was talking about your hair and your eyes and your smile! oh, and she also mentioned that she thought you were the funniest boy she'd ever met, my lord! then she was talking about how good you looked in some shirt the other day-"

"wait, wait, which shirt??? did she say, like, a color or something??" percy cut in, leaning forwards as this information was important to him

"umm, i think she said navy blue?"

"yes! alright, go on," percy cheered, making a mental note to wear that shirt more

anything to keep her eyes on him

not that he had to try super hard but still

"and she talked about rings! ones made of diamonds or something!! oh, and your mother being at some ceremony and something about father's giving away their daughters?? and white dresses. does she like white dresses? the story get's a little confusing here, i'll admit, my lord."

percy could have drown right then and there from excitement

you were talking about weddings while talking about percy

he took that as a good sign

and he'd go home later that summer and shyly ask his mother to walk him through the process of getting married

for, uh, unrelated reasons, of course

𝜗𝜚 jason grace

jason was a nervous fella, not one to eavesdrop or listen to conversations that didn't involve him

nonetheless, he couldn't seem to pull himself from the cracked doorway

every alarm was ringing in his roman mind, telling him that it was wrong and that he shouldn't be listening in on your conversation

but you were saying such lovely things!

"he treats me like im gold, like im something to be valued and taken care of. gods, he's so good to me."

it was like a little benchmark report on how he was as a boyfriend

and you know this guy loves reports and numbers and spreadsheets lmao

pros and cons list's best friend

but at the moment, you were struggling to list even a single con

"and he's such a gentleman. i don't think i've touched a door handle the whole time that we've been dating. or opened my car door, let alone drove."

jason smirked, pride oozing from him at the comments

he worked hard to make sure that you never saw another cloudy day in your life and he couldn't help but be a little proud that you took notice of those things

"what would you do if he asked you to marry him right now?" your sibling asked, with a wiggle of their eyebrows and a taunt in their voice

jason's muscles tightened at the comment and they jolted to run off, but his need to know kept him right where he was

"i'd say yes without a second of hesitation. i'm sure we've been married in past lives and we will be in future ones. so why delay the inevitable?"

jason was shocked, a rare feeling for the son of jupiter

but, once he recovered, he went running to piper, desperately asking her what the best way to find out your ring size would be

and not for just any finger, if you know what i mean.

975 notes · View notes

moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

Sleepover

Description: Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Warnings: none (but this is full of domesticity, jealous!hotch, mutual pining, and so much fluffy fluff)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: originally posted on tumblr. then it resided on ao3. now it’s back on tumblr. (fun fact: it’s my favorite hotch fic i’ve ever written and my second favorite story i’ve done of all the fandoms i’ve written for. hope ya like it still)

If there was one thing Agent Aaron Hotchner was not, it was unprofessional. But, oh. If there was ever a time he wanted badly to be unprofessional, it was this moment right now. Y/N stood next to him, leaning in close to whisper in his ear as they stood in the kitchenette, looking out into the bullpen.

“You look exhausted. You need to go get sleep.”

He glanced down at her. His face was so close he could almost feel her breath on him. It was everything in him to not lean in and—

“Hotch, seriously. You can’t even focus for more than a minute at a time,” she laughed, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine. It was just— a long case,” he finally managed.

She turned away, arms crossing. “You need rest. You beat yourself up more than anyone during this one.”

“I have a little boy at home to take care of before I can even think about sleep.”

She sighed, turning fully to face him. “Hotch.”

“Y/N,” he retorted.

“Fine. You know what?”

He turned towards her, arms crossing to mirror her.

“What?”

“I’m coming home with you.”

His heart stopped and face dropped. It took him a moment to process what she’d just said.

“Um,” he took a second to clear his throat, “I—Excuse me?”

She laughed, music to his ears. “That sounded so inappropriate. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m going to come watch Jack for you. You’re gonna get rest.”

“I’m your boss.” Hotch watched her face for a moment. “You don’t need to watch my son while I sleep.”

“You’re also my friend, and I’m offering my time, you’re not taking it. Besides, I’ve watched Jack a hundred times before.”

He only sighed, looking back over the bullpen, now nearly empty.

She turned again, leaning over. “You’re not gonna win this one.”

“Fine, but you need to get sleep at some point, too.” He looked back to her. “As soon as Jack is asleep, I want you to get rest yourself.”

“Will do, boss.” She smirked.

“Okay, go get your things, we’ll leave in a few minutes,” he said, watching her for a moment as she walked off.

She went to her desk, beginning to pack up what she needed, but not before Derek had to come over to stir things up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, leaning against her desk on one arm. “Leaving so soon?”

“Soon?” She laughed. “We just had a hell of a case, I’m getting out of here.”

“Oh, man.”

He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest and sat against the desk.

Hotch walked towards his office, trying not to watch the pair talking. He tried to not pay attention how she smiled at him as he spoke, and how he always seemed to have the right words to say to get her to laugh.

“Why, what’s up?” She slung her bag over her shoulder.

“I was thinking about going to the bar. Wanted to know if a pretty lady wanted to tag along.”

Hotch threw his things in his bag quickly, trying to not think about Y/N talking to someone much younger… Childless… Not a widow. Someone he knew she’d be with more easily.

“Oh, so you only wanted me around for my looks, huh?”

He laughed, throwing his head back a little. “You’re worth a lot more than just that, sweetheart.”

“Aww, such a sweet boy,” she said, griping his shoulder. “I got some other plans for the night, though.”

“Oh yeah? Doing what?” He straightened up with a smirk.

“Ready?” Hotch asked, walking up behind her at the desk.

“Yeah, let’s go,” she responded, turning towards him.

Morgan’s face was stuck in a state of shock.

“Whoa, now hold on—”

“I’m going to watch Jack,” she said, cutting him off with a chuckle. “Don’t get too riled up, now.”

He smiled, almost laughing. “Alright. I’ll see you two tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Morgan,” Hotch said with a curt wave. Y/N followed his lead, and then they were on their way out.

“So,” Hotch started as they stepped out of the elevator and walked outside. “You and Morgan?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in shock. “What?”

They began walking to his car.

“Are you two… Because there are some forms you’d really need to sign if—”

“Hotch,” she stopped him, standing by the passenger side door as he waited by the drivers. “That is so not happening.”

“Okay, I just…” he trailed off with a shrug, opening the door as she did and getting in.

“He’s a flirt. There’s nothing going on between us.” She settled into the seat, buckling up. “Besides, I’m too busy trying to take care of you.”

She laughed and he couldn’t help himself but to join in. He pulled off, and started towards home.

“Thank you, by the way, for doing this,” he said, not daring to look at her with how nervous he suddenly felt about bringing her to his home.

“I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Jack is going to love this.” He chuckled, turning down his street. “He really looks up to you, you know? Thinks you’re hilarious.”

“Well, he’s not wrong. I am pretty funny.” She smiled. “I am, admittedly, a little sad I only get to hang out with him for a few hours, though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, pulling into the lot of the apartment complex.

“Yeah. He’s a great kid.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it for how childish it felt, he got butterflies this time when he turned to look at her. Before he could think about it too much, he turned the key and opened the door. She followed suit, walking behind him until they reached his door. He opened it for her, and she looked around.

“His aunt should be dropping him off here in a few minutes,” he said, closing and locking the door behind him. “If you’re hungry or need a drink, you’re free to get anything from the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” She smirked, watching him. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

“I will.”

He chuckled, feeling like a little kid with the way she spoke to him. Then he paused, considering something for a moment.

Apparently the moment was longer than he realized.

“You got something on your mind?” she asked.

“Would you like to stay here for the night? I have a guest room, and this way you won’t need to catch a ride home. I could just take you to work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” she said, glancing down at her bag. “I don’t have anything to wear. I mean, I have my go bag at my desk that I could always use for an emergency, but for the night—”

“If you need something, I’m sure there’s something of mine you could…” He paused, realizing what he was saying. But before he could backtrack, she had to go and flash him a smile again.

“If that’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.”

“I’m sorry if that sounded inappropriate, I—”

“Did you not hear me agree?” She laughed. “You worry too much, boss. Now go get dressed.”

He nodded, turning for his room. She walked over the couch in the living room, sitting down and leaning her head back. It wasn’t long before she heard a bedroom door open, and there stood the great Aaron Hotchner in an old t-shirt and baggy pajama pants.

“That’s a good look on you,” she said, looking up at him from where he sat.

He felt a blush creep onto his skin, and tried really hard not to think about it. He walked a little closer as she stood up, handing her a nearly folded pile of clothes.

“I brought you these. The shirt is extra baggy and comfortable, and hopefully the pants will fit well enough. They’re adjustable.”

“Thank you so much, this’ll be great.” She smiled up at him. “Room is down the hall? I’d like to get dressed and set my bag in there before Jack gets here.”

“Yes, right across from his room.”

“Okay, sounds great. Now, you go to bed. I’ll be here.”

He gave her a slight smile. “Right. Thank you, again.”

“You know it’s no problem. Now, goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said, walking off.

She grabbed her bag and the clothes, walking off towards the guest room. She set her bag down near the door, closing it to dress. She stripped out of her work clothes, slipping on his t-shirt first. She took in a deep breath and smiled: It smelled like him. She finished pulling on the pajama pants and made them comfortable as needed.

She grabbed a makeup wipe out of her bag and wiped her face, calling it good for an unexpected night out. Then, she heard a knock at the door. She walked out, looking through the peephole to see Hotchner’s sister-in-law Jessica standing outside with Jack. Y/N opened the door.

“Hey!”

“Y/N!” Jack squealed, throwing his arms around her. “What are you doing here?”

“Dad needed to get some rest, sweetheart. So, we get to hang out for the night,” she said, looking down at him with a hand rested on his back. “Thank you for bringing him.”

“Anything for my little man. It’s good to see you again,” she said with a smile, accepting a quick hug from Jack before he bolted off.

“You too, Jess. Have a great night.”

She waved a goodbye and was out the door. Y/N locked everything back up, and popped her head into Jack’s room.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Hi!” he said, turning around from where he stood at his dresser. “I’m gonna get dressed for bed. Then can we watch a movie? I already ate at aunt Jess’s house.”

“Yeah, of course, little man.” She nodded. “Do you want to go in the living room or…”

Jack paused, giggling. “Why are you wearing dad’s clothes?”

“I’m staying the night, bud. I needed pajamas.”

“You are?” he asked, eyes wide. “Can we go watch the movie in your room?”

“Yeah! Why don’t you finish getting dressed and brush your teeth, and then you can come in, okay?”

“Okay!” he exclaimed, quickly grabbing his clothes.

She turned, walking across to hall and into the guest room. She pulled the covers back, crawling underneath and switching on the T.V., finding her way to Jack’s Netflix profile, smiling at some of the shows he’d been watching. She picked an old movie she loved as a kid. It wasn’t long before she heard a door open, and little footsteps whipping around the other side of the bed. He crawled up under her arm, pulling blankets up to cover him.

Jack was watching intently, the movie only half over, when the creaking of another door piqued their interest. Hotch’s head popped into view a second later.

“What are you doing up?” Y/N asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He gave a shy smile, then turned to Jack. “How are you doing buddy?”

“Y/N said she’s staying over!”

“Yeah, she is.” He smiled, stepping inside the room. “How’s the movie?”

“I like it a lot. Come watch!” Jack said, patting the bed next to him.

“Buddy, I’m not sure that’s—”

“Please, dad?” he pleaded.

Hotch looked to Y/N, almost asking permission without saying a word. She nodded. He shuffled a little, hesitantly walking around the bed to Jack’s other side. He lowered himself on the bed, pulling the covers over his legs. Jack slipped out from under Y/N’s arm in favor of leaning on his dad’s shoulder. It wasn’t long before Jack was snoring, and as Y/N looked up to see if Hotch thought it was just as cute as she did, she noticed he’d fallen asleep, too. They looked so sweet sleeping there together that she couldn’t help but pull out her phone and take a picture. She set the phone on the nightstand, making herself more comfortable as she focused her attention back on the movie.

Early morning light filled the room when Hotch woke up. He glanced down to see his son cuddle up against him and smiled. He was still fast asleep. Then, he looked up. Y/N laid asleep, her body curled up on her side, facing him and effectively caging Jack between them. Her breath came soft and even, and he admired how she looked in his clothes as he saw her in the light for the first time. She was so close, and he longed to get closer, but couldn’t think on it long before her eyes started fluttering open.

“Hey,” she greeted, voice soft with sleep, and a tired smile gracing her face.

“Hey,” he said back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here.”

She chuckled, rubbing her eyes. “No, it’s fine. I think he was happy to have you here.”

Hotch smiled, looking down at his son. He was out like a light.

Y/N leaned over, gently kissing Jack’s forehead before slowly and quietly getting out of bed. Hotch watched her, heart aching at how much he wished all of his mornings could start this same way. He shifted out of the grip of his son as she stretched out at the end of the bed, leaving the room with her.

“It’s still early,” he said, walking to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

She trailed behind, taking a seat at the counter.

“That depends. Are you gonna make me breakfast if I am?”

“If you’d like.”

He smirked at her, and she smiled back.

“Tell you what, you work on the food, I’ll get coffee started,” she said, getting up and walking towards the counter.

He wordlessly agreed, pulling out some boxed pancake mix and stovetop sausage links. She removed the old coffee filter from the machine and set in a new one, filling it up with grounds. Hotch mixed up the batter quickly, heating up a pan.

The coffee pot filled, and pancakes were formed. Y/N poured two cups, preparing one to her liking and one to Hotch’s. Then, footsteps came shuffling into the room.

“Morning, sunshine,” Y/N said to Jack, smiling at him. “You want some juice?”

He nodded sleepily and climbed up onto a chair at the counter. She poured him some orange juice and set the cup down in front of him. He took a sip, watching his dad finishing up breakfast.

“Is that pancakes?” Jack asked, trying to peek around to see the pans.

“It sure is,” Hotch replied, throwing some pancakes on a plate and pouring out a few more.

Y/N set down the two coffee mugs on the counter, and took her place next to Hotch to move the sausage links around in the other pan.

“Almost done?” she asked him without looking up.

He moved the rest of the pancakes to the plate.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, glancing over and turning off both burners.

Hotch grabbed three plates, setting them down next to her so she could split up the sausage links. As soon as she was done, Hotch set to putting a few pancakes on each plate, and Y/N grabbed butter and syrup out of the fridge. He prepared Jack’s for him and set the plate in front of him with a fork. He then waited for Y/N to start the working on her own before he prepared his. She took a seat first, leaving a seat in the middle for Hotch. They ate quietly, sharing a few words when Jack wanted to talk about what he got to do at school the day before, and what he was looking forward to for the rest of the week.

“Hey,” Y/N, nudging Hotch’s arm as she pushed her plate away from her. “Could we get to the office a little early? I’m gonna have to get dressed there since my go bag is there and all.”

“Of course.” He nodded, sipping at the last of his coffee. He then turned to Jack. “Can you go get dressed to go to school, please?”

“Yeah,” he said, hopping off the stool and running off towards his room.

“I think I’m gonna put on my stuff from yesterday till we get there,” Y/N said, sliding off of her stool. “Not sure walking into the office in your pajamas would be a great look.”

“Maybe not the most professional outfit,” he agreed, laughing a little as he walked around the counter, putting dishes in the sink for later. “For the record, I think you look beautiful.”

She paused, feeling heat rise to her cheeks and butterflies in her stomach.

“Thanks,” she said quietly, arms crossing over her chest. “Looks better on you, though.”

And with that, she left to go change. Hotch waited in the kitchen for a moment, almost in shock, before heading off to his room to get ready for the day.

It wasn’t long before they were both showered and ready to go, Jack practically running out the door when his aunt arrived to take him to school. Hotch and Y/N drove to work in a comfortable silence, only the sound of the radio playing low. They arrived at the BAU, and went straight inside. Hotch went to his office, and Y/N was reaching for her duffel bag when the glass doors opened.

She looked up, not expecting anyone else to be there so early.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We don’t start for another half hour,” she inquired.

“Just needed to get some work done early. But I could ask you the same thing.” Derek smiled at her, then glanced at what she was wearing. “Hold on, aren’t those your clothes from yesterday?”

He inched closer, a slight smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I was just about to go change.” She held up her go bag.

“Mhm.” He crossed his arms. “What happened to just looking after Jack for a while? You decide you were finally gonna get after—”

“Derek!” she interrupted, laughing. “No! I just stayed the night with Jack in the guest room.”

He raised a brow. “And that’s all? Baby girl I know you’ve had a little crush on Hotch since you walked in here.”

She bit her cheek, looking away for a moment. “You’re nothing but trouble, Morgan.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He stepped closer.

“Okay, fine.” She huffed out a sigh and lowered her voice. “We had breakfast this morning, with Jack.”

“And?”

She paused. “He also slept with me and Jack, but it was an accident. He didn’t mean to fall asleep there. We didn’t even touch one another, it was totally platonic.”

“Well, I am sure Hotch wouldn’t be sneaking into bed with me if I was watching his kid.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she said, shaking her head. “He’s totally not into me. You know how he is with work policy, and besides he is way out of my league.”

“You need to think a little higher of yourself.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She laughed again. “Now, out of my way so I can get dressed. I don’t need any more questions from the rest of the team.”

“Alright.” He stepped back holding up his hands.

“And Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“Do not tell anybody.”

She pointed a finger in his direction as she spoke. He only chuckled, taking a seat at his desk.

She went to the bathroom, changing out of her old clothes and throwing on some new ones suitable for work at the office. She put on a little makeup, threw on some deodorant, and called it good. She stepped out to a slightly more full bullpen, only a couple more people had arrived. She shoved her go bag under her desk, and walked over to the kitchenette table where Derek, Hotch, and Emily were talking.

“How’s it going, guys?” she asked, taking the seat next to Emily, across from Morgan and Hotch.

“Talking about yesterday’s case. The daughter of the last victim made it safely to her grandparents’ house,” Emily said, sipping at a mug of coffee.

“That’s awesome. I’m glad she had them to go to,” she said, leaning forward on the table.

“You need coffee?” Emily asked, looking to Y/N.

“Oh, no thanks. I got my share this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you did,” Derek said, holding back a smile.

“Morgan.” Y/N glared at him.

Hotch caught her eye for a moment afterwards, questioning. She slightly shook her head in amusement.

“What happened?” Emily asked, a curious smile on her face looking between Y/N and Derek.

“Nothing, he just doesn’t understand boundaries,” she said with a pointed finger. “Trying to blow things way out of proportion as always.”

This time she glanced at Hotch first, rolling her eyes a little. He smirked, looking down at his hands.

Emily watched the little interaction with interest.

“Does it have something to do with these two?” she inquired, looking back to Derek.

Y/N and Hotch spoke over each other.

“Nothing happened,” Y/N muttered.

“What?” Hotch questioned.

Derek looked to Hotch. “Can we go talk?”

Hotch furrowed his brow. “May I ask what about?”

“It’s nothing. It’ll just take a couple minutes.”

“Alright,” he said, standing up and nodding a quick goodbye to Emily and Y/N.

Derek followed after, throwing a devious look Y/N’s way.

Emily leaned over, speaking more quietly. “Something I should know about you and Hotch?”

“No,” she chuckled. “Derek is just… Himself.”

“Something had to have happened.” Emily turned in her chair, and made Y/N face her. “Spill.”

“I went to watch Jack last night so Hotch could get some rest. We had breakfast this morning with Jack, and he accidentally fell asleep next to Jack and I while we were watching a movie.” She sighed. “I told Derek, and now he’s freaking out about it like something happened.”

“Y/N. You slept at his house.”

“To watch his kid.”

“Wait, you said he fell asleep next to you and Jack.” A smile crept on her face. “Was that on a couch or in a bed?”

“Emily,” she groaned.

“Y/N!” Her eyes went wide. “How can you still think he’s not interested in you?”

“He’s not.”

“You’re both blind.”

Hotch led Derek to his office, only leaving the door a little cracked.

“You wanted to talk?” he asked, leaning against his desk. Derek stood in front of him.

“Yeah. About you and Y/N.”

“Morgan.”

“Hotch, I know you don’t want to admit it, but I know you’re into that girl.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “She told me about last night and this morning.”

“She was watching Jack. Nothing more.” Hotch shook his head. “This isn’t an appropriate conversation for work.”

“Work doesn’t start for another ten minutes.”

Hotch only stared.

“Look, I just think you should ask her out.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?” Derek let his arms drop to rest on his hips, tilting his head.

“I’m her boss,” he replied, straightening up.

“But what is really the harm in trying?”

“She’s—” he started, and then paused, shaking his head.

“She’s what? Amazing? Gorgeous? Smart?”

“She wouldn’t be interested in someone like me. So, it doesn’t matter anyways,” Hotch said, glancing down. “We start the day in 5.”

“Great, that’s plenty of time.” Derek paused a second. “Why would you think she’s not into you?”

“I’m— I have a child, and I’m a widow. She doesn’t need all of that on her plate. Plus, she’s young. She’d be better off with somebody your age,” he said, looking up again to catch Derek’s eye.

“Man, you are so blind.”

Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

The day started as usual. The team had a briefing, and then went to work at their desks for a while. Today was going to be a slower day, and everyone seemed to be thankful they could get home at the end of the day. At lunch, Y/N noticed Derek and Emily talking quietly: she thought it was awfully suspicious.

“Hey, you two,” she called out, walking over to Emily’s desk. “Why are you being so quiet, it’s weird.”

Derek glanced up. “Nothing.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, turning to Emily in question.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s nothing.”

“You two are bad liars.” Then, she had an idea. “Hey, Reid.”

His head popped up, looking to her. “Yeah?”

“You’ve been sitting here next to them, what are they talking about?”

He looked lost, glancing around. “I—Uh… I have no clue.”

“Now, see, you I believe,” she laughed, ruffling his hair as she went past.

He frowned, quickly smoothing it back out. She headed off towards Hotch’s office instead, trying to ignore the whispers that has started back up.

She knocked quietly on the open door.

“Hey, you busy?”

She popped her head in to see him eating a sandwich at his desk.

He shook his head, swallowing a bite. “No, come in.”

She closed the door and went to sit at the chair by his desk.

“Derek has been weird all day. What did you guys talk about earlier? I can’t get an answer to save my life.”

His eyes went wide.

“What?” she questioned, noticing Hotch going more on-edge.

“Uh, it was— It was nothing. Just a work thing.”

“You know, you’re a really bad liar, too.”

He chuckled, looking away. “I just don’t think this is the right time to talk.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

He glanced up at her, looking her in the eyes, searching for an easy answer.

“It was just— It was about last night. And this morning.”

She groaned. “Great. I knew I shouldn’t have told him anything.”

Hotch just sighed, looking at her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think he’d say anything,” she offered as an apology.

“No, it’s okay. It’s just that…” He let out a slow breath. “He brought up something that I think I want to talk to you about. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“Okay, what is it?” she questioned, straightening up in her chair.

“He, uh, brought up everything from last night and this morning. And he brought up how that’s not something that I would normally do. Or something you would normally do.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to make you uncomf—”

“No, it wasn’t that. It’s just,” he paused, watching her for a second. “I need to know if you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

Her heart was racing and heat rose to her face. She was breathless.

“W-what?”

“I’m so sorry, I know this is inappropriate, but…”

“What are you asking?”

“I just need to know how you feel. About me.”

He looked at her, almost pleading for the answer he deeply wanted.

“I’m— I think you’re amazing. I think you’re a wonderful father, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way you do,” she began in a ramble. “I didn’t want to say anything because I know you’re so out of my league, but after talking to Derek this morning, and Emily, I just… I don’t know. I want to hope.”

Hotch furrowed his brow, and Y/N took in a breath, ready for rejection.

“You think I’m out of your league?”

“I mean… Yeah?” She tilted her head. “You’re really incredible.”

He couldn’t help but smile.

“Y/N, for profilers I don’t think we’ve been very good at reading one another,” he said quietly. “I thought I was the last person you’d ever be interested in.”

“What? Why?”

“I’m a widow, I’m older than you, I have a son…”

“A son that I love. I’d do anything for that kid.”

“I know.”

He smiled again, watching her. She couldn’t help but to smile back.

“As for the other stuff, I couldn’t care less. You’re so much more than that.”

“Really?”

“Really,” she continued to smile at him. “We really are pretty dumb, huh?”

“Very, apparently,” he agreed with a nod.

She checked the time. “Lunch break is almost over. I better go.”

He nodded again. “Yeah. Talk more later?”

“Of course.”

She waved a goodbye, walking towards the door. With one hand on the handle, she felt something grip her arm and spin her around. She was met with Hotch’s lips on hers, a kiss that took her breath away. They broke apart after a minute, both smiling like giddy teenagers.

“When I tell you that’s all I could think about doing this morning…” she began.

“Me too,” he agreed, looking into her eyes as his hand stroked her cheek. “Especially when I got to wake up to you in my clothes. It was killing me.”

She giggled, leaning in for one more kiss. It was slower this time, more gentle. She backed away afterwards, just enough to be able to speak against his lips.

“I think maybe we should thank Derek and Emily.”

“And let them feel like they won?”

“Good point.”

He let her go to get back to the bullpen, but as she attempted to turn the handle of the door, she was knocked back into his chest. Of course.

“You’re welcome,” Derek said with a smile after assessing what must have just happened.

“You don’t get credit for this,” Y/N laughed.

“Mhm. But it’s totally on me,” he said, raising a brow. He started walking back out, but not before… “Don’t you two take too long in there.”

FULL MASTERLIST

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #jealous!aaron hotchner

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krisdreaming · 8 months

Text

Baby Fever

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x f!reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: Osamu and his wife just had a baby. Now Atsumu sees them everywhere.

A/N: This kind of took a very different direction than I was originally planning and tbh, I kinda hate it now, but I spent over two hours writing it, so I'm gonna roll with it anyway. Maybe when I re-read it in the morning, I'll hate it less 😅

There's a term for it. Atsumu isn't sure what it is, but he knows that as soon as you're exposed to something new, you start noticing it around you more and more. That must be why, ever since Osamu's son was born, he's been seeing babies everywhere. They're at the grocery store. They're at the park. Suddenly, half of his teammates have been expanding their families like it's some kind of competition.

Suffice to say, Atsumu has seen more than his share of babies over the past few weeks. Sure, they're cute, or whatever. When a baby smiles at you, you can't help but smile back. When they grab onto your finger, you let them hold it for as long as they want. When they engage you in a staring contest across the grocery store aisle, you only put up a little bit of a fight before giving them the satisfaction of winning, flashing a sheepish smile at their mom or dad as you turn the corner.

The sight of the little monsters has started to trigger a strange twinge in Atsumu's middle, which he chalks up to the fact that he's an uncle now. There's a brand new member of his family, and he's really happy for Osamu and his wife. Seeing the babies everywhere reminds him of that. That's all it is.

See, the two of you had talked about this. You aren't ready for kids right now. He's in the prime of his volleyball career, and you love your job. You're both happy as just the two of you, spending your free time together doing the things you enjoy and getting a full eight hours of sleep each night. Having a baby would change everything. Your last discussion on the topic, right after Osamu and his wife had shared their pregnancy with the two of you, had ended on that exact note. He's pretty confident that's still how you feel. He's relatively confident that's still how he feels, too.

Of course, the longer it goes on, the harder it is to explain away. He watches Osamu doting on his son, snuggling him close and kissing his cheeks and smiling bigger than Atsumu's ever seen before. He knows his brother is tired, but he doesn't seem to care. He watches the way he looks at his wife, and the way both of them look at their son, and it softens something inside him. He sees you cradling your nephew close, cooing down at him with a soft smile, and his heart turns over in his chest.

Finally, one day, he comes to Osamu with a question.

"What's it like?" Osamu is wiping down the counter at Onigiri Miya, clearly trying to disguise his surprise and mild consternation at seeing his brother show up out of the blue, five minutes before closing time.

"What's what like?" He grunts, scrubbing at a ground-in glob of rice.

"Y'know," Atsumu gestures vaguely, "Being a dad."

"Ah," Osamu hums, grasping that quickly what this is all about. "It's incredible. I mean, don't get me wrong," He chuckles, "It ain't easy. It's way worse than whatever ya try to imagine based off a' everybody's helpful advice," He lifts his hands in air quotes. "But somehow, it's also worth it, in a way ya never could've imagined it would be. The way ya feel every time ya look at 'em - ya can't even put it into words."

Atsumu isn't sure how he's supposed to respond to that, so he just nods. Osamu smiles, looking him up and down with a too-critical eye. "Any special reason yer asking?"

"No," Atsumu says with a quick shake of his head, "Just curious, 's all."

Osamu nods, not saying another word, but the smirk on his face is more than enough to make Atsumu want to knock it clean off. Osamu's answer is exactly what he'd been afraid of.

It comes to a head one sunny Saturday afternoon when the two of you meet up with Osamu and his wife and son to visit a festival. The afternoon is starting to wind down when Osamu unceremoniously dumps the baby into Atsumu's arms. "Hey, mind watching him while we go to the bathroom quick?"

"Ah, sure," Atsumu says to his brother's already-retreating back. You poke at the baby's irresistibly pudgy cheeks, giggling along with him when your attentions illicit a bout of laughter.

"Oh my, what a sweetheart!" The elderly woman seems to appear out of nowhere, something Osamu is constantly describing but which Atsumu hasn't experienced until this moment. "Such a happy baby," She grins. "How old is he?" She looks expectantly at you, and after you gather your wits, you answer her.

The woman nods knowingly, as if she'd predicted as much. "Are you having a fun day with Mommy and Daddy?" She asks next in a goofy voice, completely oblivious to the way Atsumu chokes on the breath he'd just been inhaling and you shoot him a wide-eyed glance.

"Ah, well, actually-" You stammer out, at the same time Atsumu blurts, "We're not his parents."

"I see," She says good-naturedly, "Well even so, he looks very happy with you." With that, she goes on her merry way, and you and Atsumu share a bewildered look. Osamu and his wife return from the bathroom, and neither of you mentions the awkward encounter. It doesn't come up until later that evening, when the two of you are lying in bed.

"That was really somethin' today, huh?" Atsumu asks, trying to ignore the fact that his stomach is suddenly in knots.

"The old lady?" You chuckle weakly. "Yeah, 'Samu's right, they really don't have any shame, do they?"

"Yeah," Atsumu says, then takes a deep breath. "Do ya think, maybe, it's time to have that conversation again?"

You're silent for a few moments, and he can't quite place the emotions that cross your face. He doesn't have to explain which conversation he means.

"Maybe," You finally agree in a low voice. "Are you saying that your decision might be different this time?" It could be his imagination, but Atsumu almost thinks that you look hopeful.

"Maybe," He says carefully. "Would yours?"

"Maybe," You echo him, but there's a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

"There would be a lot of changes," He says softly, fingertips tracing aimless shapes up and down your arm.

"Maybe we're ready for those changes," You murmur back, catching his hand in yours and letting him twine your fingers together.

He brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. "As long as I've got you, I think I might be."

"Me too," You say, leaning in slightly to nudge the tip of your nose against his. When he kisses you, he hopes the pressure of his lips can convey even the things he can't put into words. He can't imagine living this life with anyone else.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader

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togrowoldinv · 4 months

Text

Motivation

Firefighter!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha has a rough shift, a calm night at home is just what she needs

Note: Firefighter Nat is backkk. I just adore this beefy yet soft woman. Enjoy this fluff and comfort!

Burning Red AU, Main Masterlist

Natasha is no stranger to bad shifts at work. There are some days on the job that she wonders if it’s even worth it. The pain and suffering she sees is tremendous.

Today was one of those shifts. She and the station spent almost ten hours straight putting out an apartment fire. The losses were significant and the structure is gone.

You heard about it on the news, so you knew you’d need to prepare for Nat to be down when she gets home tonight. Once you put your young son to bed, you get started on your plan.

You make her favorite dinner and turn on Friends in the background for when she arrives.

The door opens at half past 8 o’clock to reveal an exhausted Natasha.

“Hey babe,” you say gently as she enters. She kicks off her shoes and takes off her coat.

Nat doesn’t say anything yet, but she does walk toward you. The woman pulls you into a hug and squeezes you tight.

“Are you alright?” You ask her a few minutes into the hug.

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just went through a lot today.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you say. “I saw it on the news.”

“It was awful,” she admits. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

You nod in understanding. Nat pulls away when her phone rings. It’s Yelena undoubtedly calling to see if she’s okay.

She takes the call while you make her a plate of food. Not too much as you know she can’t stomach much on her bad days. Nat returns with a grateful smile for the food.

“You didn’t have to,” she says.

“I sure did.”

She sits at the table and eats the delicious food. You don’t really know what to say so instead you sit at the table quietly.

“So,” Nat begins trying to distract herself from the day’s events. “How was Cam today?”

“Oh, you’ll love this!” You say, reaching for your phone to show her a video you took of your son. “Watch.”

Natasha watches as he sings along perfectly to a pop song. He even does a dance. You’re both smiling at the video.

“Oh, he’s going to hate this when he’s older,” Nat says.

“You’re right, but look how cute our little man is now,” you reply.

“Yeah we did good,” Nat agrees. “I wish he was awake. I could use some snuggles.”

“Well, normally I’d say never wake a sleeping toddler, but if you need to wake him to remind yourself he’s okay then I understand, baby,” you explain.

“How did you know?” Nat asks, her eyes shining with the light of feeling known.

“I know you, Natasha Romanoff,” you tell her.

She smirks and feels the weight of her day falling off her shoulders. Nat stands up from the table and goes to Cam’s room. The little boy stirs awake quickly and gladly accepts his Mama’s invitation to cuddle.

You watch from the doorframe as your two favorite people rest together. Natasha goes through a lot each day in her career. She finds motivation to keep going in you and your family.

She always finds a way to get up and lace up her boots again before running into another fire.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #burning red au #firefighter!nat

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tomsvouge · 4 months

Text

Call it what you want

Summary- You and Joe attend his Heisman ceremony. What you don’t know is that Joe has something up his sleeve for after the ceremony. Warnings: Fluff, References of sex

Being friends with Joe was a reward in itself, but seeing him achieve a goal of a lifetime is worth more than any award there is.

Getting ready in the hotel room in New York City was not on your bucket list for 2019 but hey I was not complaining. Joe was up for the heisman trophy and you could not be more proud of him. Knowing what he has endured up to this moment would make anyone have nothing but respect for him.

Joe and I have been friends since middle school. All I remember is a shy kid hesitant to find a seat somewhere. Calling him over to sit next to me was the best decision I have ever made. Although what I didn't know was I was going to be falling for him as the years went on. each day that went by I always noticed something new about him, like the way he gets all giggly when talking about things he loves, or when he gets tuned vision when he is really really focused on something.

Having these feelings for Joe meant that every little thing made me jealous. Like when girls fond over him or when girls literally come up to him and flirt with him. Before my thoughts took over me I got pulled out by Joe calling my name.

"Y/n!"-Joe

"yea what's up"- you say sitting down the makeup brush.

"Which tie should I pick?"- Joe says holding up two purple ties that look almost identical

"Go with the one without the gold it kinda washes you out"- You say taking the tie from him to put it on him while he laughs at your remark.

"Can't even catch a break on my day huh?"- Joe says shaking his head laughing.

"Hey just because your winning an award doesn't change the fact that your still easy to make fun of."- You say while fixing him up so he looks put together.

"There you go. Nice and proper."- you walking back to finish your makeup

"Thanks and I haven't won anything yet, I'm just a nominee."-Joe says following you and sitting down on the bed next to the vanity watching you apply the finishing touches.

"Oh c'mon, Joe we all know you have this award in the bag. You have had heck of a season and most of all you deserve it more than anyone."- you say turning to him and grabbing his hands.

"Everyone believes in you Joe not just your family. You pretty much have the whole state of Louisiana supporting you tonight as you are their adopted son apparently."-you say as Joe looks up and laughs at the adoption joke.

"Thank you y/n. You always know how to bring my confidence back up."- Joe says looking at you with a little glimmer in his eyes.

"Oh! also can you help me zip up my dress?"-you ask standing up and turning around so my back faces him.

"Yea sure."-Joe says slowly zipping the dress up.

"There. And thank you for always being there, it means a lot."-Joe says while you turn around to look at him.

When turning around you had no idea how close you actually were to Joe, so close that your chest was literal centimeters away from his.

Looking into Joe's eyes gave you a wash of euphoria. Something hat only his can do, and he felt the same way about yours. Every stolen glance he takes at you when you aren't looking and every little gesture he does to show that he cares.

As you guys stared into each others eyes, it was cut short by Robin and Jimmy clearing their throats.

"Time to go guys!"- Robin says as she looks at us smirking.

"Yea okay."- we both say at the same time while they leave the room.

"Wait! Joe before we go gets take a picture."-You say opening the camera app and taking the picture,

"okay lets go y/n, this could turn into a whole photoshoot with you."-joe says laughing and guiding me to the door.

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

Walking into the ceremony felt unreal. Before it started we talked to a couple of joes coaches and other nominees.

A few minutes into small taking we were told the ceremony would be broadcasting in a ew minutes and we had to take our seats. before I went to my seat I decided to give Joe some more words of encouragement.

"Hey Joe just remember what I told you in the hotel room, you have all the support in the world right now, win or lose we're so so proud of you."-you say as he was staring u at you with admiration in his eyes.

"Thank you y/n."- He says with a tight lipped smile.

I could tell he was nervous. Joe only smiled like that when he was nervous or when he wanted out of a situation and didn't want to make it awkward.

As I'm walking back to my seat I couldn't help but over hear one of the nominees say that Joe had a good one. Before I could hear joes response people were starting to scramble to their seats for it to start.

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

He did it. He won the Heisman for LSU.

As walks up to his family section he hugs each of us. When he gets to me he says something unexpected.

"I love you.."- Joe says as he hugs you and moves on to his dad.

He just told me he loves me. We have said this to each other before but something about this time felt different.

As Joe walks up to give his speech all I could do is tear up. This boy has been through so much and has been knocked down so many times and the is finally proving all those people wrong who ever doubted him in his life.

But one thing that I did not expect to see was Joe cry. I have only seen Joe cry a few times, so little that I could count on one hand. This had really meant a lot to him and you couldn't be any prouder of him.

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

After the ceremony and the walk in Times Square, Joe and I decided to head back to our room to celebrate the win by watching movies and drinking some champagne.

The second the door closed I tackled Joe in a hug to the point where he fell back on the bed. Laughing he quickly turned us over on the be. As quickly as he turned us over he jumped off of me.

"Sorry I don't know what I was thinking doing that"- Joe said as he starts to take off his shoes.

"Its fine, You did nothing wrong."- you said

"Im gonna go take a shower right quick, okay?"- you said walking over to the bathroom.

"Okay I'm going to my parents room to do the same."

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

Sitting in the bed with Joe you had laughs and mini tickle fights. But as the night went on you had not idea what was about to happen.

"Okay so now that this movie is over I would like to show you a very important video."-joe says grabbing his computer.

"It's not a sex tape is it?"- you say with semi seriousness.

"No no not even close!"-Joe says laughing at you.

"Oh okay."- you say getting comfortable to see what his is about to show you.

"okay, watch"- Joe says starting the video.

The video consisted of memories of me and Joe from when we first met to literally a few hours ago.

"Joe that was so sweet, but why?"-you say looking at him.

"Y/n, you have been in my life since I can remember. Not a single bad memory with you, if anything you make the bad memories seen not so bad. You have been there for me through the really highs but you have also been there for me when I've hit rock bottom. You make me a better person and I'm grateful to have you as a best friend. And I know this might sound weird but I really don't want to be friends with you anymore. I want to be more than friends. So, with that Will you be my girlfriend?"- Joe says as you have tears in your eyes.

Joe... You don't know how long I've been waiting for you to say that sentence to me."-I say hugging him like my like depended on it.

"So I'll take that as a yes?"- Joe says

"Yes Joe i'll be your girlfriend."- I say leaning in to kiss his lips.

Right as our lips are about to touch Joe pulls away leaving me confused.

"What's wrong?"- You ask looking at him.

"Nothing, but before I forget I have to give you something."- Joe says reaching into the nightstand.

"Here."- he hands me the box

"Joe you didn't have to get me anything."

"Just open the box baby"

I open the box and see a pendant necklace with a "J" on it.

"joey... Its beautiful."

"Just like you. I wanted you to have it even when we are not physically with each other. Look inside."

I look inside and see a photo of me and Joe on the day we met and and an empty side. "What's this side for?"- I say referring to the empty side.

"It's for you to fill, I want you to fill it with your favorite memory of us. I doesn't have to be right now. You don't even have to tell me. just do it when you're ready."- Joe says as I nod.

"Can you put it on me?"-You say turning round.

"Ofc."- He says putting the necklace on me.

"oh and Joe?"

"Yea?"

"I love you too."- I say smiling.

Little did Joe know you filled that empty spot years later with the photo of you him and your baby boy the day you gave birth.

The first pic of the new year!!! Also the start of the Taylor imagines. If you have any recommendations let me know. <3

#Spotify #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow oneshot #joe burrow #tomsvouge

247 notes · View notes

lqveharrington · 3 months

Text

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

5: The Winner’s Guilt (Series Masterlist)

summary: Your father makes another deal, and Coriolanus Snow wins the 10th Annual Hunger Games, but Dean Highbottom won’t let him feel too good about it… Especially when he knows his weakness.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: reader’s dad being a dick, major fluff at the beginning, allusions to sex, kissing, death, mentions of murder, yelling/screaming, mentions of cheating, mentions of heartbreak, italics are flashbacks, bold italics are Coriolanus’ thoughts

word count: 4.4k+

a/n: oopsies, sorry for the long wait 😔 ALSO THIS STORY IS NOT OVER YET, DONT WORRY

Waking up and hearing your father’s nonsense about the Hunger Games was not the best way to start your morning as a mentor. Especially when your tribute had just survived the blood bath by the skin of her teeth and an ally. You really did not want to stay home any longer, but your father insisted that you stay and listen to his thoughts about the games, asking about your own thoughts and strategies on how you were going to get the young twelve-year-old to win.

“Mhm.” You nod mindlessly, poking your food in boredom. You were grateful for the food made by your wonderful staff, but your father was just ruining it.

“Be glad your sickly tribute had an alliance with the other District Eleven tribute. She would have been dead otherwise.”

You hum again, sipping from the tea this time. It took at least ten minutes before he switched the topic, something that made you want to listen to his speech about the Hunger Games instead.

“How are you and that young Snow doing?”

The question was out of the blue, which meant it was attached to something much worse afterward.

“We’re doing as fine as it always is.” You meet his eyes, the weight of your rose charm suddenly becoming prominent. “Why?”

“Can’t I take interest in my daughter’s relationship with a boy who isn’t worth anything?” Your father raised his brow, an entitled chuckle following. You glare at him, gaining his attention back. “You know his songbird won’t win. She barely escaped. And she’s friends with the other tribute who got bitten in the neck. They won’t make it out even if they tried. Plus, I know he would do anything to win, even if it means breaking a few rules—”

You shake your head, “Is this going anywhere? Or are we going to keep talking about the games?”

“Ah, you take after your mother.” He smiles at the memory before switching back to his authoritative tone. “I was speaking with Porcius Creed about his eldest son—”

“Father—”

“---And if all else fails with young Mr. Snow, he would be delighted to have his son wed you.” He finishes, looking at your expression with amusement. “What?”

“I hate you.” You seeth and push away from the dining table, taking your coat and leaving the Lovett Manor.

Your father had been talking about setting you up with another one of your peers after the games. You didn’t expect him to already arrange something without knowing if Coriolanus was going to win or not. Sure, his chances were slim, but you had the hope that he would win, even if that meant your tribute couldn’t. And it was hell knowing that if he lost you were stuck with Festus for the rest of your life. He wasn’t as bad as the other prospects your father had brought up, but there were others more worthy of you than Festus.

Including Coriolanus Snow.

There were several times when you knew you wanted to marry Coriolanus. You could be separated from him for months and still want to marry him. It was something you believed that would never change.

Lovett Manor was filled with the most prestigious families of the Capitol. Your father had invited almost everyone he was business partners with and those in control of the government. He had left little invitations for you to give out as the majority of them were already well acquainted with you through the Academy. Luckily, you were able to sneak an invite to the Snows, having the power to veto your father’s own opinions.

After all, it was your eighteenth birthday.

However, you had zero say in how your party was supposed to go. Your father had planned everything and hired the best staff to make the house and ballroom presentable for your birthday. All you did was watch from the living room and pick out a dress from the dozens your stylist brought in.

And with all the families present in the grand ballroom, you thought it would be best to sneak away while the party was still hot and heavy, taking quick steps up to your room.

Entering your room, you swung open the balcony doors to reveal the vast garden looming over the backyard. You could still hear the muffled songs playing from the ballroom from below as you leaned against your balcony’s concrete railings.

It felt like only a few minutes before someone came knocking on your door, making you release a heavy sigh.

“Yes?” You ask, body still facing away from your room.

“I haven’t seen you all night, beautiful.” Coriolanus entered, watching your eyes light up as you whipped around.

You smiled and let him pull you into an embrace, wrapping your arms around his torso. You tilt your head up, meeting his eyes. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He held you by the hand and twirled you around, admiring your figure. “You look stunning.”

Truth be told, the dress and makeup were truly beautiful. You wore an off-shoulder, silk red gown that cascaded down to the ground, with ruby earrings dangling and shining from the moonlight. Your lips were painted a daring red, matching your complexion beautifully. Not to mention the necklace hanging around your neck, which was Coriolanus’ favorite jewelry you’ve ever owned. But really, he loved the way you looked all the time.

“You look so beautiful.” He breathed almost intimately, his blue eyes now focusing on yours.

You continued to smile brightly, taking note of his matching outfit. You wondered how much Tigris had to spend just so he could look proper at your party. The thought gnawed in your mind for a bit before you snapped back, coming up with a quick compliment to cover your silence. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

A new song started up in the ballroom. A slower song preferably for the couples and single men your father wanted you to dance with. Coriolanus tilts his head at the music, a playful glint in his eyes as you raise a brow in curiosity.

Coriolanus formally extends his hand out to you, “Would you like to dance, beautiful?”

You shake your head with a small smile, placing your hand on top of his. “Of course, Coryo.”

He kisses the top of your hand and pulls you into a graceful waltz. One hand was placed delicately on your waist while the other held your hand that wasn’t holding onto his shoulder. He guided you effortlessly across your balcony, matching the song’s pace. You two spoke about your day and brought up memories from the past. It was refreshing to talk to someone you genuinely wanted to talk to.

“Thank you for the flowers.” You mention, remembering the orchids that were sent up to your room earlier while you were getting ready, Coriolanus’ handwriting scrawled on a piece of paper attached to it. “I love them.”

“I have another gift, but that won’t come until later.” He winked as he spun you around, watching your face flush red as he caught you.

“I hate you.” You bite back a smile, your heart wanting nothing more than to kiss and marry the man in front of you. You promised yourself you could never actually hate him. You knew there would never be a chance where you could have the strongest emotion to hate him.

He let a small smirk slip through, “You love me.”

“Yeah, I do.” You reply with the softest voice.

Coriolanus dipped you as the song came to an end, holding onto you tightly. “Happy birthday, my love.”

You smiled widely at him, knowing that he was the only one who completely swept you off your feet.

He pressed a loving kiss to your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It seemed like fireworks went off in your stomach as the actual fireworks went off in the night sky, signifying the end of your birthday party.

“And Happy Anniversary,” Coriolanus spoke when he parted your lips briefly, gazing into your eyes filled with adoration.

By the time you snapped out of your memories, you arrived at the Capitol’s Citadel. You were unaware of how long you were disassociated with the world around you until the horns honking behind you grew more aggressive and loud. As you left the car and entered the impending building, whispers were going around of another tribute’s death. Many suspected it was another one of Coral’s, but you knew the truth and didn’t dare say a word about it.

Soon enough, Lucretius Flickerman announced the death of the tribute.

“Wakey wakey, my Capitol friends! I’m Lucky Flickerman and welcome to day number two of the Tenth Annual Hunger Games.” He introduces himself to the camera once more. “Now while most of you were getting your beauty sleep last night, something scintillating occurred. Bobbin, from District Eight, slaughtered.”

The screen flashed to the boy’s frozen body, the buzzer indicating the official death.

You bit the inside of your cheek, resting your hands on the back of your seat. You glanced around the huge room, looking for a particular blond when Lysistrata and Festus came over to where you stood, supposedly finding someone new to rope into their conversation about the fallen tribute.

“We have a question for you.” Festus clasped his hands together and pointed toward you. You blinked for a second, hoping that he wasn’t going to bring up anything your father recently told you. “Why do you think they wouldn’t show us the death of the young boy?”

You shrug and slip into the mask of a Capitol student with no care after realizing Festus didn’t know what his own father roped him into. “Maybe they lost the footage.”

“How can they? They were live all night.” Lysistrata furrowed her brows, glancing up at the screen. “Something is off.”

“Maybe they’re building suspense, Lyssie.” You silently thank whoever was in charge of the program for changing the camera feed. “Who knows what could have happened. Maybe the death was just too brutal.”

Festus shook his head like your thought wasn’t something practical. “Obviously it was one of Coral’s. Everyone else we’ve talked to said that no one else has moved throughout the night except her and the rest of her pack.”

You zoned out from their conversation as they started to argue more about the young boy, picking at your nails. The sounds around you meshed into one while the Citadel filled with Academy and University students, along with families of the remaining mentors. With your distracted self, you hadn’t realized Coriolanus arrived and was well aware of your disassociation.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Coriolanus slipped an arm around your waist as he left a quick kiss on your cheek. He quickly noticed you being absent-minded, rubbing soft circles in your waist. “What’s wrong?”

You hummed, taking his hand and lacing them together. “A lot of stuff.”

“You can’t be vague.” He clicks his tongue and lets you mess with his fingers. “What happened?”

You tilt your head up and peck his lips. “I love you a lot, you know that, right?”

“I do.” He murmurs, looking between your eyes. “I love you more than you realize… What did your father say to you?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of your father, cursing your boyfriend’s quick judgment. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Fine.” He gave you another quick kiss, unbuttoning his blazer. “What are they talking about?” He titled his head to the duo to your right.

“Tribute’s death.” You loop a finger around your necklace for a bit and then move your hand over to Coriolanus’ left shoulder, gently massaging as he tenses. “Are you feeling any better?”

He shrugs, “Hoping for everything to end today.”

You give his shoulder one last squeeze, “You better sit down. Flickerman looks like he’s gonna murder Festus for standing around.”

“I’ll talk to you later.” Coriolanus removed his arm from you and placed a brief kiss on your lips. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You reciprocate.

Truly, you found it strange that Coriolanus became more attentive and doting toward you recently. But who were you to complain about your boyfriend’s sudden increase in affection?

You took your seat as the screen flashed to Jessup and Lucy Gray down in the same spot from last time. You weren’t interested too badly until the male tribute moved to attack Lucy Gray. You weren’t expecting it, nor did everyone else watching as gasps emerged from the stands. Everyone was fixated on the screen as the camera switched to the main part of the arena, capturing the chase.

“Jessup, going for Lucy Gray.” Flickerman commentates, more gasps and murmurs coming from the stands inside the Citadel.

You shifted your gaze over to your right, watching Coriolanus converse with Lysistrata. You knew he was trying to talk his way into getting his tribute to survive, but you were silently hoping Jessup took out Lucy Gray. You weren’t one to wish death upon someone, but the little memory locked in a chest started to break open the more you thought about your father’s words. However, you knew Jessup was done for the second you caught Lysistrata giving in to Coriolanus’ efforts.

She sent a drone out with water, the glass smashing against the tribute’s chest which sent panic to course through his body. Everyone watched as he tried to balance, but he fell over the concrete ledge and promptly died, the buzzer indicating the time of death. You watched as your peer walked out of the room with a broken face, avoiding the eyes of her classmates.

Your eyes flickered back to the screen as you heard the crowd’s murmur increase in volume. Lucy Gray was surrounded by Coral and her group and it felt like she had lost the game as more donations started to roll in for the other tributes. There were positives and negatives to Lucy Gray’s life in the games. If Lucy Gray died now, you would be stuck with Festus. If she survived and won, you were sure you would be stuck with seeing red everywhere, even if you had Coriolanus to yourself.

And as if he heard your thoughts, Festus looked over at you and then to Coriolanus, watching both of your faces to find any change emotionally.

“Oh, look at this! The pack doing what they do best, packing it in!” Flickerman switches his gaze over to the mentors as he hears a computer switching keys. “Mr. Snow going for his community packages.”

You reach up for your necklace’s charm, watching as the horrid drones come pouring into the arena and smashing into the tributes. You were thankful that Dill was safe and away from the chaos that happened within a span of just a few minutes. If anything, you would rather have Dill stay hidden for the rest of the games and let everyone else fight for their lives.

“Hey! You can’t attack the tributes.” Vipsania stood from her seat, all heads turning toward her and then to Coriolanus.

“I’m just sending water.” Coriolanus shrugs, looking at you for a split second in amusement.

Honestly, you were on the verge of letting a small laugh out at his response. Of course, he used the drones to attack the tributes, but what they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?

Instead of looking back at the screen like the rest of your classmates did, you let your eyes train on Coriolanus. He was just so immersed in the live feed and you couldn’t help yourself. His tongue would slightly poke out and his eyebrows would furrow every couple seconds. It would have been cute if you weren’t mentoring the Hunger Games or if there wasn’t a buzzer just now.

When you said you were going to study with Coriolanus, you weren’t thinking that you were going to study for the next four hours after class ended. You studied for about thirty solid minutes before you started to lose focus.

You shifted your attention from the Latin textbook in your lap to the blond next to you. You smiled at the sight. He was focused on reading a passage in Latin that he didn’t realize his tongue was poking out with the scrunch of his nose and brows.

“Coryo.” You shifted from your spot on his bed, sitting up as he hummed. “Do you know you look like an angry kitten when you read?”

“Pardon?” He looked up at you, watching your eyes shine in delight.

“Well, you make a face that looks like an angry kitten whenever you focus on something…” You hide your face behind his shoulder, suppressing a short laugh. “Never mind.”

Coriolanus swore his heart skipped a beat at your laughter, falling deeper and deeper in love with you each day. “Beautiful, I won’t be compared to an angry kitten outside of this conversation.”

“Fine.” You bite back a smile as you peer up at him from your spot. “But I’ll be thinking about it whenever I see you do it. It’s cute.”

He felt the tips of his ear warm at your words, “It’s not cute.”

“It is.” You peck his cheek. “It so is. I’ll take a picture of it one day and print it for you.”

“Again, falling. Ending a tribute’s game.”

Your attention shifted back to the screen as Lucy Gray ran up into the fallen stands and into the air ducts. The second she locked herself in there, another buzzer went off moments later.

Coral killed one from her pack. Despite having an alliance together, she had zero hesitation to turn against someone to prove her worth and not let anyone get in her way.

“Seven tributes remain. Merciless Mizzen, cunning Coral, treacherous Treech. Dill, Reaper, of course, and the little ones. Little Wovey and Lucy Gray.”

You blew a small breath out, watching as Coral and her pack left to get Wovey. You felt bad for the poor girl, but you would rather have them after anyone else who wasn’t your own tribute. You shut your eyes for a moment, but you could sense something bad was about to happen with all the silence filling the room.

“And who do we have here? Ah, it’s ill Dill. Tuberculosis on legs.”

Your eyes immediately shoot open as you hear your tribute’s name being called. You wish she could have at least waited for Reaper to go with her out in the arena. She had no weapon, and it wasn’t practical to be in the Hunger Games without a weapon. You were just praying that no one would see her, hoping that she could get the water and go.

She looked around the arena before taking a sip from the water left by the pack. Dill placed it back down and coughed a fit, something that confused you. She was coughing a lot more than the other day. You creased your brows as she moved to lay down on the ground, continually coughing. You swore she was better before she entered the arena. And if she wasn’t, you gave her medicine to take during the games.

Coriolanus dropped his gaze down from the screen and glanced over to you, knowing the truth of what happened to the girl. He knew that your tribute already lost the games by drinking the water.

You watched as Reaper came running across the screen, shaking her awake before dread spread through your body as he flipped her over. He screamed, looking around the arena.

“No no no no no no.” You mumble, eyes glazed over. “How did that even—? No no no no no—“

The buzzer went off. Officially indicating the death of your tribute. You bit your tongue and left, not daring to look back at the screen where your tribute lay dead or meet your lover’s eyes which were burning into you.

You stepped out of the room and leaned against the wall, holding back sobs for the young girl. You promised yourself you would get Dill out, and you couldn’t even keep it. Mentoring the games increased your hatred for them, but the deaths of each tribute shot the hatred far past the point of return. You wiped stray tears that managed to get away from you, the tears darkening your red Academy uniform. You were about to head back to Lovett Manor when you heard someone clearing their throat beside you, making you freeze your movements. You saw Dean Highbottom waiting for you with what seemed like a videotape in his hand labeled: NIGHT 3, CAPITOL ZOO.

Fireworks went off in the early evening as Coriolanus entered one of the most important Capitol buildings. He was instructed that his tribute was waiting for him inside, but he still wanted to find you. You were not present when he won the Hunger Games and no one knew where you went.

Until now.

“Lucy Gray?” Coriolanus called out in the monumental room, the peacekeepers escorting him waiting by the front. “Lucy Gray?” He called one more time, voice echoing.

He slowly spun around looking at the table in front of him, the color draining from his face as he saw his father’s handkerchief and his mother’s compact. Albeit confused as to why a television was placed amongst them.

“Coriolanus.” Your own voice reverberated around the room, entering the room with your own pair of peacekeepers.

“Beautiful,” He loosened his tense shoulders, smiling at your presence. “Where were you? I—“

“I heard you won.” You frown, walking over to him. “Congratulations.”

He creased his brows at the way you carried yourself. It was different. “What’s wrong—“

“You cheated, Coriolanus.” You glance at the items laid across the table, tapping the videotape the dean gave you against your palm. “You know that’s against the rules.”

“Yes, but—“ Then he cut himself off as he noticed your puffy, bloodshot eyes. He knew were crying for a while if they had gotten to that state.

“You cheated.” You said again. This time, your voice trembled at the thought. “Was I ever going to know?”

Coriolanus kept quiet, waiting for you to continue. There was no way you knew about it… Right?

“Coriolanus, when?” You quickly wipe a falling tear, keeping your composure up.

“Never.” He spoke as he reached out to you. “But it was all for you! I don’t—“

You pull away from his touch, shoving the tape down onto the table. “Play the tape, Coriolanus.”

He sighed, taking the recording and putting it inside the slot, the television coming to life.

The video that was played was a recording from the Capitol Zoo. And according to the timestamp at the top, yesterday.

You couldn’t watch the screen even if you tried. You knew that if you did, there was no coming back from breaking down and sobbing for what seemed like the nth time today.

“Beautiful…” Coriolanus runs a hair through his hand, watching the tape. “That kiss with Lucy Gray meant nothing.”

Apparently watching it happen and hearing it coming from your lover’s mouth was entirely different because you snapped the second he mentioned those three words in one sentence.

“You kissed Lucy Gray, Coriolanus!” You yell, tears now free-falling from your face. His eyes widened at your tone, looking between your fiery eyes. “You kissed her so you could win! You manipulated the poor girl! You thought I wouldn’t find out about this? You gave her your mother’s compact filled with poison and it killed my tribute! It’s not—”

You took deep breaths, shutting your eyes as your heart slowly broke with each second passing he said nothing.

“Do you want to know why I was upset earlier, Coriolanus?” You quickly wipe a tear. “Because my father and Festus’ father agreed to let me wed Festus if you didn’t win. You won, but at what cost?”

He wanted to comfort you, but the second he touched you, it was all over. He knew that his touch would be unwelcome.

“You kissed Lucy Gray when you promised I was your top priority.” You disregarded the few tears that continued to pour out of your eyes. “You kissed her when you promised wherever we go, you stayed with me.” You bite your lip, looking down at the floor, almost whispering the next words. “You kissed Lucy Gray when we were together like I meant nothing to you.”

“Were?” Coriolanus questioned your use of the past tense to reference your relationship status. “What do you mean were?”

You flicker your eyes up to his, “As in we were together. Coriolanus, you cheated on me. And no, we can’t just fix this issue this time or forget about it. You could have come up with any other way of getting Lucy Gray to win, but you chose one that could hurt me…” You crease your brows at the inflection of your words. “And it did. You think you did the right thing, but choosing to kiss someone else to be with another is not how this works.”

“Beautiful…”

“I can’t.” You murmur, unclasping the necklace off of you and handing it over to him. “You can’t expect me to stay with you after you cheated on me. After you reassured me that you weren’t acting a certain way with Lucy Gray.”

He paled as the necklace fell into his palm, the weight of the silver burning his hand like the burden it was. “You know I never meant it like that. I wanted to win for you.”

“I know.” You gave him a bitter smile at the thought of your father’s deal, calming yourself from your earlier reactions.

Coriolanus wrapped his fingers around the hot necklace, watching you become more and more distant with him. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” You replied as the peacekeepers signaled for you to wrap it up. You let out a shaky breath as one last tear fell from your face, getting ready to leave before Highbottom came.

Coriolanus couldn’t help but wipe it off, causing you to frown at his cold touch. “Please.”

You take a hold of his hand, squeezing it. “Coriolanus… It’s not fair to myself.”

Before you could leave, Coriolanus pulled you into his arms, one hand holding your hip while the other held your back. He kissed the top of your head, “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

You choke back a sob that threatened to escape, bringing your hands to your mouth. You knew you had to leave, but it wasn’t like you could leave his embrace. It gave you comfort even if you didn’t want it from him. And he held you. After everything, you let him hold you tightly.

Everything was wrong. The wrong place at the wrong time. And the only thing that both you and Coriolanus felt as you left him was fallen snow melting on burning silver.

taglist: @peterparkerluvvbot @nathaslosthershit @springholland @psychicpuppyarcade @whodis-26 @coconut-dreamz @cowgirllharry @slytherinholland @lacysversion @perks-of-being-jojo @itzmeme @noodlesketchbook @ohmyzai @upsidedownjill @mizuki80 @unclecrunkle @tiaamberxx @bxtchopolis @starrynightstory @namelesslosers @lugiastark @dangelnleif @aemondsb1tch @witchsbitchestime @ace-spades-1 @ordinarylokix @kookie29 @secretsicanthideanymore @angelscrime @ms-longbeach @rosieleej @alpha-mommy69 @loklaufeysonssgodess @aoi-targaryen @imaginebeingmentallystable @sighsophiia @innercreationflower @cascadingbliss @edb954 @castellandiangelo @lot4ever @nowitsmissing @lookclosernow @bambi-horror @httpfandxms @goobitagoobre @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @captainbabybear @becauseseaotters @mvdhvtterxx (comment to be added)

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hotchs-bitch · 23 days

Text

The List || A. Hotchner x Fem!Reader

summary: you and Aaron check off a few new boxes.

kinks: D/s, daddy kink, threesome, mistress kink, praise kink, degradation, thigh riding

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader, emily prentiss x reader

content/warnings: in case it wasn’t clear SMUT 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI

wordcount: 3.5k

You’ve been dating Aaron for a few years now, so you like to think you’re something of an expert on all things Hotchner. There are plenty of people, your coworkers included, who think he’s all work and no play. That simply isn’t true. At work, yes, he’s a stark professional, to his core. But they don’t see him at home, playing with his son and basking in the domestic glow the three of you have created in your little apartment. And they certainly don’t see the type of play the two of you get up to, either.

One of the tenets of Aaron’s work/play separation was that work stayed in the office. He had a home office, for when he needed it, but even there– nothing BAU-related got past the threshold. When he was home, he was home for you and for his son— work would wait as long as it reasonably could. So when you see him flipping through some paperwork in bed, you’re admittedly confused.

“Whatcha doing?” You ask, pure curiosity in your tone.

“I was just looking over the list. It’s been a while since we did these, I thought it might be worth taking another peek at,” he explains, looking at you over the readers you had bought for him a year ago, that he valiantly resisted for three months before finally admitting that they helped.

He’s talking about your kink lists, which explains why he’s made it out of the office. Just shy of a year into your relationship, you’d broached the subject of introducing a dynamic into your sex lives, just to see if you liked it. Aaron had agreed, but insisted on doing his own, extensive research beforehand. He, admittedly, was wary about the idea of hurting you– even in a consensual way— and wanted to make sure he was fully prepared, both for him and for you. So he’d presented both of you with lists— you checked off things you knew you liked, things you thought you might want to try, and things you definitely didn’t want to do.

“Why don’t you check yours, too,” he says, passing you your copy of the list. “Make sure it all still looks accurate. We’ve tried a lot of this stuff, so if you don’t actually like it—”

“Aaron, you know I’d tell you if I didn’t. I’d safeword if I needed to, or I’d tell you after the scene if I didn’t. You wouldn’t hurt me and I wouldn’t let you,” you remind him.

“I’d still like you to look. Maybe things we haven’t tried that sounded appealing then, don’t now. Or maybe you’ve found that you like things more than you thought you would. It’s all good to know,” he encourages you.

You agree, climbing into bed and taking the paper and pen that he’d offered. You move some maybes that you had tried into the solid yes column, and a couple into the no column, too, but there aren’t any major changes. After a few minutes, you switch, and you find Aaron’s form to be more or less the same. You’re not surprised, really— You and Aaron have an open line of communication. There were no surprises.

“So, I was thinking I might surprise you,” Aaron pipes up. You stand corrected.

“Oh?” You say.

“You’ve been working your ass off lately, between the team and the Academy Trainee course Strauss pulled you for,” he explains. “I wanted to do something fun for you. I noticed you still had ‘experience with two or more partners’ and ‘experience with a same-sex partner’ checked off as things you’d like to try…” he trails off nervously, and you can tell just by looking at him that he’s wondering if he should beg the floor to swallow him whole rather than continue this conversation.

“That would be a very special gift,” you agree with a smile, putting him out of his misery. “But who? I don’t necessarily want to bring a stranger into the apartment,” you say.

“You can say no, and we can never talk about it again,” he assures you. “But I was thinking… maybe Emily?”

You mull it over for a moment, taking Aaron’s hand in your own to let him know that you’re thinking, not shocked into silence. You… kind of like the idea of it. “Have you talked to her about it at all?”

“Not about joining us,” he says, and his phrasing is specific. You know him too well for that.

“But you’ve talked to her about… our dynamic?” You ask, confused. It’s not your real question— you know he’d never tell someone else about this without asking you, first.

“No, no,” he corrects. “That case a few months back, where the men were all bound— she floated the idea privately with me that the unsub may be a dominatrix, and it came up naturally, that she’s… similarly minded.”

“But with less murder,” you joke.

“Like I said, we can pretend I never even brought it up.”

“No!” You correct a little too quickly, making Aaron chuckle. “I want to. You can ask her about it.”

“I will,” he says, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.”

+++++++

Emily says yes the next day when Hotch asks her about it. It’s the waiting that’s torture. It’s two whole weeks before the three of you find a day that works for everyone– and if you thought that was bad, the hours leading up to it were even worse.

You’re on edge the whole day— you’re nervous, yes, but it’s an excited kind of nervous, like the moments after you pull the safety harness down on a roller coaster. You plod around the house all afternoon, tidying things that don’t need to be tidied and wiping down the countertops, mopping the floor, baking a banana bread just to do something with your hands.

You nearly jump when Aaron wraps his arms around you from behind. “Go take a bath and ground yourself, my love. Use your fancy bubbles and take some deep breaths. I left you something to wear, it’s hanging up on the back of the bathroom door. Emily will be here in a bit. Would you like to sit with us while I explain your limits to her, or do you want me to do it?”

“You can do it,” you tell him softly.

“Okay angel. Then you go on up, take your bath and put on the pretty outfit Daddy got you, and sit at the foot of the bed and wait for us, okay?”

“Okay, daddy. Thank you.”

He smiles, giving you a quick kiss. “Nothing to thank me for. See you in a little bit.”

You go upstairs and see that Aaron has already drawn the bath for you, and has set out your favorite soaps and bubble bath and a fluffy, warm towel. You sink into the warm bath, and let yourself soak, focusing on your breathing. It helps. Once you feel ready, you drain the tub and look over to the lingerie Aaron had bought for you. It’s a lacy red bodysuit, and it’s crotchless. You get yourself good and dry before slipping into it, not wanting the delicate material to get caught on your wet skin. Once you’re dressed, you go into the bedroom and kneel at the foot of the bed the way you normally would if you were playing with just Aaron. You can hear the two of them talking, laughing, even, as you sit and wait for them.

Your anticipation builds the longer you listen to them– are they still talking about limits? Are they plotting– deciding what toys they’ll use, how they’ll tease you, when they’ll let you come? You can feel yourself getting turned on the longer you sit and think about it— you wonder if that’s part of their plan, too.

You snap back to attention when you hear footsteps coming up the staircase, straightening your spine and turning your gaze towards the floor.

The door swings open— you don’t move. You know better.

“Aw, she’s so cute,” Emily cooes. You feel warmth rise to your cheeks, try to bite down on your smile.

“Kitten, why don’t you say hello to our guest?”

You look up now, at Aaron. “What should I call her, Daddy?”

Aaron looks to Emily, who answers. “You have such good manners, sweet girl. You can call me Mistress.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you for coming,” you tell her with a smile. Looking her in the eyes for the first time makes this feel a hundred times more real, and you can tell that when they finally touch you, you’ll be soaked.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she smiles. “I understand that you and your daddy have a lot of fun together. I’m excited to have some fun with you, too.”

“Come here, kitten,” Aaron beckons, and you oblige him, crawling a few paces across the carpet and coming to sit next to his left hand. He runs a hand through your hair.

“Ladies first,” Aaron smirks, looking over to Emily.

Emily crouches down, nearly eye-to-eye with you, but she’s still a bit taller. She traces a finger down your cheekbone and the column of your neck, over your shoulder, sneering a little at the goosebumps that appear in the wake of her gentle touch. She pinches your nipple through the fabric of your lingerie, and you gasp a little, not expecting the sensation.

“Hmm,” Emily murmurs a contented little noise at your reaction, not letting up on her grip. “A good pinch, or a bad pinch?” She checks in.

“A good pinch, Mistress,” you assure her through gritted teeth.

She smiles. “Good,” she says, reaching for the other nipple, rolling it between her thumb and index finger. She gives them both a sharp pull, causing you to cry out, before she stands back up.

“That’s it?’Aaron scoffs.

“We have the whole night ahead of us,” Emily reminds him. “I’d take advantage while I’m still in a sharing mood.”

He rolls his eyes goodnaturedly, pulling you to your feet. “The thing about my sweet little slut, is that you don’t even need to touch anything significant to turn her into a mess,” he informs Emily as he uses his big hands to spread your thighs apart. You suddenly remember that your panties are crotchless, and tense up, worried that you’ll drip on the carpet before you’ve even begun. For his part, Aaron seems determined to make this happen— he kisses his way up your thighs, sucking at the tender flesh nearest where you were practically pulsing for him, but intentionally ignoring any action that would provide you with any relief. You take in a sharp little breath, trying not to whine.

“That’s it. I can smell you, already. You like that, don’t you, angel?” He whispers against your skin.

“Yes, Daddy,” you answer breathlessly.

“I know, I know,” he says sympathetically as he rises to his feet. “But not yet,” he whispers before sucking a bruise into your neck.

“Let’s move this party over to the bed, shall we?” Emily says, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the mattress, stripping herself of her pants and her top. Aaron follows suit, losing all of his clothes and climbing on top of the mattress, giving his cock a few cursory strokes, spreading out the precum that had gathered at his tip. Emily gestures to her thigh, and you straddle it accordingly.

“Why don’t you tell me more about your daddy, angel?” Emily encourages you as her fingers sink into the flesh of your thigh and pull, encouraging you to rock against her.

You oblige, riding her thigh as you speak. “I love my daddy. He takes very good care of me,” you say as you rock against her once, readjusting to try and find a better angle for your clit. “He reminds me to drink water and take care of myself,” you continue rocking and find the place where your clit rubs up against her thigh in just the right way, moaning a little. “And he always reminds me that I’m his good little slut. He loves to make me cum,” you say, your humping gaining intensity, causing you to moan a little “Oh, and I love to make him come too,” you say, chasing your release against her.

“How do you like to make Daddy come?’ Emily asks, pushing your hair out of your face where it’s sticking to your sweat.

“I like to take his cock in my mouth,” you moan. “I like feeling him all the way down my throat. Oh, Mistress, may I come?” You ask as your rocking against her grows more frantic.

‘Not yet, baby. It’s too early,” she cooes. “Keep going. I heard Daddy call you a name earlier, do you like that? Do you like when we call you pathetic little names?”

“Yes, Mistress. I like to be called a needy little whore, or Daddy’s desperate slut.” You cry out.

“Oh, you are a desperate slut, aren’t you? Trying to come on Mistress’s thigh,”

“Yes, yes, I’m a desperate slut,” you agree, hoping your acquiescence will earn you an orgasm.

“Good girl. Stop,” she orders, and you hold back your sigh, not wanting to be punished. You step away from her, get back into your kneeling position on the floor. From your new vantage point, you can see Aaron– he’s been stroking his cock, watching you and Emily. He’s erect and slick, and you’ve never wanted him in your mouth more. You’re practically drooling.

“Kitten, you’ve made quite the mess of my thigh,” Emily tuts.

“I’m sorry Mistress. May I clean up my mess?”

“Of course, go ahead,” She grants you permission, and you begin to lick your own arousal off of her. Her skin is so soft, and she smells so nice, that you start to get lost in it, mouthing at her long after is necessary, until you feel a tug at your scalp.

“Don’t get distracted, kitten. Daddy’s waiting for you,” Emily reminds you, gesturing to the other side of the bed. You crawl over, looking at Aaron with glassy eyes.

“Daddy, may I suck your cock, please?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Aaron says, extending two fingers, which you greedily pull into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them and taking them as deep as you can manage for a few moments until Aaron pulls them away.

“Come on up, angel,” Aaron says, pulling you into bed. “Go ahead,” he grants you permission, and you settle between his legs, licking the underside of his cock and looking up at him as you do so.

As soon as you have as much of Aaron as you can take in your mouth, you feel two fingers sink inside of you– Emily’s, you realize with a moan.

“Thank you, mistress,” you warble out without removing Aaron’s cock from your mouth.

“Focus angel. Mistress had her turn, now Daddy wants you all to himself. Don’t get distracted.”

“Yes, daddy,” you answer, refocusing your efforts on him, Even as Emily makes you squirm and whimper under her touch.

“Your pussy is so tight, sweet girl. Does Mistress make you feel good?”

“Yes, mistress, feels so good,” you answer, but as soon as you do, you feel a sharp spank to your backside.

“Focus, slut. Don’t make me remind you again,” Aaron says.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, taking him in your mouth again.

You’re content for a few moments, but when Emily removes her fingers from inside of you, you can’t help but whine.

“I’m feeling neglected, here. Kitten, why don’t you lay back against the pillows,” Emily encourages, and you look up at Aaron for permission, which he grants with a simple nod, getting up and taking one of his pillows with him.

“Lift your hips,” He tells you as Emily comes to the head of the bed.

Aaron slides a pillow underneath you just as Emily comes to straddle your face. “Mistress and Daddy want to come, angel, and then you can, okay?” Emily explains.

“Yes, Mistress,” you say, craning your neck up to kiss her entrance.

“Good girl, go ahead,” she tells you, lowering herself down towards you. You mouth at her with purpose, trying to remember all of the tricks you like best when Aaron does them on you, paying attention to which maneuvers make her tense up and cry out.

A few moments later, you feel Aaron’s cock sink into you, and your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head– you feel so deliciously full, not to mention how thoroughly fucked you had been throughout the evening. You felt… saturated, in the best way. Each one of your senses was laser-focused on pleasure. You were so grateful to Aaron for doing this for you– the thought motivated you, had you kicking it into high gear with Emily.

“Oh, good girl. You’re going to make Mistress come. You’re going to make me so happy. Don’t stop, angel. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t— fuck!” She cries out as she reaches her peak, her pleasure overwhelming you.

“Good girl. You did such a good job, you made mistress so happy,” Emily cooes breathlessly as she gets off of you, not wanting to suffocate you when she collapses against the mattress to catch her breath. She leans in, starts to kiss your neck. “Where’d you learn to do that, sweet girl? Is my perfect angel a little slut?” she asks, mouthing at any exposed skin she can reach.

“Yes, Mistress, I’m a little slut,” you agree.

“Who’s slut?” Aaron booms as he pounds into you.

“Your slut, Daddy. I’m your slut,” you amend.

“That’s right, kitten. Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You, daddy, my slutty pussy belongs to you!” You cry out as he taps your clit, and it sends him over the edge. He keeps pumping in and out of you as he comes, and Emily reaches down to your clit, rubbing at it.

“Go ahead, come. You earned it, baby, come.”

“Daddy?” You cry out, wanting to make sure you have permission.

“Yes, angel. Come for Daddy, my perfect girl. You did so good.”

You careen over the edge at his praise, arching your back and letting out a moan that turns into a cry. You’d been on edge for so long— before Emily had even arrived today, and it made the relief that much more gratifying.

“Thank you,” you pant out as you come back down to Earth.

“Give her a minute to settle,” Aaron warns Emily– the two of you had learned that rushing into aftercare could be a little overwhelming, so Aaron usually gave you a moment to catch your breath before he touched you.

“You did such a good job, my sweet girl. I’m so proud of you,” Aaron whispers gently. “When you’re ready, I want you to sit up for me, okay my love?”

You nod a little, taking another few deep breaths and scooting up towards the mattress.

“Good,” he whispers. “I will be right back,” he says, climbing off the mattress and leaving the room momentarily.

“Did you have fun?” Emily asks quietly, screwing the cap off of a bottle of water and handing it to you.

You gulp at it aggressively while you nod. “Yeah, I did. Did you?”

“Careful, you’ll get a stomachache,” she warns. “I had fun, but this was a treat for you.”

“Still. It’s only fun if everyone’s having fun,” you remind her. “Would you… want to do it again sometime?” She asks, feeling bold.

“Yeah. You should talk to Aaron first, though,” Emily says.

“Talk to Aaron about what?” He comes back to the room with a plate of fruit and a damp washcloth, sounding concerned.

“Nothing, baby. Later,” you assure him, and he gives you a little look that lets you know that he’s holding you to it.

“Alright, angel. You need to eat something, and I need to clean you up,” he says, handing you the plate and bringing the washcloth between your thighs. You extend the plate towards Emily, and she takes a strawberry, popping it between her lips as you bite down into a crunchy apple slice.

“Em, you should feel free to stay, if—” Aaron starts, but she cuts him off.

“I’d love to, but I can’t. Sergio is a very lonely boy,” she explains. “But this was a lot of fun. Thank you both for inviting me,” she says, kissing you both on the forehead as she dresses and packs up her stuff. Aaron insists on walking her to the door and watching her get into her car, as if she didn’t have a handgun in her purse and enough combat training to take out half of Northern Virginia. You’re snuggled up against his pillow when he returns, and he smiles.

“You had fun, angel?” He asks as he climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest.

“Of course I did. This whole thing just begs the question…” you start, trailing off.

“Begs what question?” Aaron asks.

“Who are we going to invite over to check off those boxes for you?”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x y/n #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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lacrimosathedark · 2 months

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THAT'S IT! This is a Janet Drake Defense Post

As may be obvious, I spend a lot of time reading fanfic. And there's this trend that drives me nuts, and it's villainizing Janet Drake.

I'm not gonna say she's an A+ mother. She's not. She chose her career and adventures over spending time with her child much of the time. But fandom portrays her as some rich pompous ice queen, which is never shown.

Janet Drake mostly appears in the story Tim's introduced, and in the story she dies.

So, let's start from the top: Haly's Circus.

This event is the only time we see her really interacting with Tim before her death, but it shows that at least when he was young, she was an active part of his life. She was worried about bringing Tim because it might scare him. And then rightfully scolds her husband for being sexist because Jack Drake actually IS a jerk.

...I don't like the art in this comic. Or that the writer doesn't know how kids speak.

But Janet is being supportive of Tim's clear interest in Dick's performance.

And then tragedy strikes and she acts like, y'know, a mother.

Her priority is getting her son and herself out of there.

Also worth noting that the Drakes sent a copy of that final photo of the Graysons TO Dick, which is how he has it at all. If both of them were stuck up pricks, would they even bother sending a photo to a grieving child performer they hardly know? I can't imagine Jack really bothering, but I don't see why Janet wouldn't.

And then, by the time she's dying, we know that Tim's parents have been away for a very long time, he never knows where they are, but they've communicated enough that he knows that they've been fighting.

They're passive aggressive to say the least. This marriage is clearly not working anymore.

EDIT CUZ I REMEMBERED A THING:

It's worth noting that this is a time before smartphones. This comic was released in 1990, which was when pre-paid mobile phones had just started existing. Coverage isn't universal NOW, so back then it was even less, and Jack and Janet are archeologists (or archeologist adjacent?) so they're going to be in less developed and populated areas most of the time. It's unlikely they'd have consistent access to a functional phone that could call the states to talk to Tim regularly.

This isn't to defend their absence, because fuck that, but it's to give it some context. I don't think they were trying to ignore or abandon Tim. Communication was just not readily available and Janet seems to get wrapped up in work...and Jack's an asshole.

Also for note, Janet is probably the one sending Tim postcards in the first place. It being signed "Mom and Dad" is what makes me think that. Jack would have put himself first if he wrote it, it woulda said "Dad and Mom". That's admittedly pure speculation, BUT IT FITS SOOOOOO

My thought is if this were made modern, Janet would be sending extremely scattered texts and Tim would get next to nothing from Jack unless Janet prompted him.

END EDIT

(Fair warning, this story is a few levels of Yikes, but I'm gonna stay on topic)

Bad guy Obeah Man does...something? to the pilot, and they crash, and he has a group of people kidnap the Drakes and their assistant Jeremy.

Danger really puts some things in perspective, for Janet, at least. And that continues for her. Jack is a bit delusional and in denial, thinking he has any control of the situation.

They are tied up and filmed for ransom, their assistant killed right in front of them.

Jack just keeps raging, but Janet is having regrets. Notice how she doesn't cry until Tim is brought up. Could be nothing, could be something.

And then she dies.

Her only other major appearance is when Tim is having a fever dream from the Clench and everything is kind of okay for a minute.

Tim very clearly loves his mom. And we may not get a lot of characterization for her, but she's not cold or callous like people write her constantly.

And now, we finally have a little more about her as of Batman 134.

I haven't really been keeping up since the Gotham War stuff because What The Fuck Was That My Guy, but I recently saw this specific comic.

The multiverse is fucked up again, some way some how, and Bruce is lost (again) and Tim has to get him back (again). This time, Tim is going in after him. But he doesn't end up going straight to Bruce.

He goes to see an alt of his mom.

Tim missed her so much that he ended up going to her before Bruce.

And her immediate reaction is to run up and hug him. Does that look like a mother who doesn't love her son?

"Do you have anyone to take care of you?"

"I don't know how this happened, this miracle...but I just know, in my heart of hearts, it was to show me...that every version of my son is a good one."

Tell me again that this woman is heartless and didn't want her son, I fucking dare you.

And we get more meaning to the name "Robin" and a little crumb about Tim's grandmother. As a treat.

This is all to say, please stop writing Janet Drake as a cold, heartless bitch.

Small final note though: Jack Drake is, in fact, a shitty person and a shitty father. He does still love Tim and Tim loves him AND THAT IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE, but the relationship is a mess. If either parent is actively abusive, it's 1000% Jack "smashed a TV because my son wasn't listening to me and threatened Bruce Wayne at gunpoint" Drake. Probably part of why the marriage was falling apart.

Anyway, yeah, let's retire the "Jack and Janet Drake are Bad Parents" tag and replace it with "Jack Drake is a Bad Parent" and "Janet Drake's C+ Parenting" or something.

#DC Comics #Detective Comics #Batman #Robin #Janet Drake #Tim Drake

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thevirgincherry · 3 months

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BELL JARS AND BUTTERFLIES !

ft. infinite darkness!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. emotional abuse, mom-son incest, power dynamics, sub leon, some references to past physical abuse not explicit tho, few drug references, p in v

note. hai :3 put id leon cuz that’s who i saw but!!! u can think ab whoever u want :3 thank u to @devilmayfuck for proofreading oh my gosh :3 still ignore mistakes bc I tend to make em while formatting! feedback n rbs so appreciated <3

tumblr removes fics that, for example, use tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

It’s no surprise that Leon breached contract and put his dick in his shrink. He tends to do these things around women that sound like school teachers. To be fair, the contract wasn’t his to breach, she’s totally taking advantage of his vulnerability or whatever.

“You still live with your mother, Leon?” It’s a statement, not a judgement, he takes offence either way.

“She’s sick,” Leon says, and it’s a bold-faced lie, they both know that she, his shrink, has his file. That you’re well and alive. He doesn’t like to talk about you to her. Mainly because what you have done to him is private, no one else needs to know, it’s the only thing no one knows about him— The only thing that’s not written across his dossier in bright red is that he and mommy have a less than sound relationship. It’s the only thing that is his.

“Sick?” She’s not much older than you, and she’s not as beautiful as you.

“Sick,” He confirms, and it’s not far from the truth. Physically sick, nah, but Mommy might be, she certainly is, the biggest narcissist Leon has encountered in all twenty-eight years of his shitty life, and that says something. ‘Cause Leon works with the US government. He’s owned by them, actually, to say he’s working would be a lie— He’s been owned all his life, first by mommy, then by work, and Leon has started to think it’s always going to be this way. That it’s okay because he doesn’t have to dissect, ache and hurt like he does when he’s thinking.

When she tries to probe further, as it is her job, her duty, in the same way it is Leon’s duty to save the world on any old Monday, he leaves. The apartment is his by lease, but Leon has never stayed long enough to call it a home, he’s never considered it anything more than where you are.

His fist knocks against the lacquered wood, and you answer a minute or so later. It doesn’t suit you. Trying to fit in with all the D.C career women, prim and polished and intelligent, that’s just not you. At your core, mommy is trailer trash through and through. Your smile is artificial, and your nightgown is too, it’s ill-fitting, the only thing you’ve worn well is his father’s anger. Leon thinks that if he wasn’t so full of the milk of compassion, whatever it is Lady Macbeth said, he would help you out. Show you what you’re truly worth. Unfortunately, all Leon would like, all he has ever wanted, is his mommy.

“Leon,” Your concern comes sparingly, so he takes what he can, head dropping to your shoulder. He melts. You’re about as friendly as a loaded gun, but Leon’s got suicidal tendencies and all that jazz. “Baby, what happened? You look so thin, my goodness, you must weigh less than me.” It’s true, looks like he weighs seventy pounds soaking wet. Skin stretched thin over his bones. Teetering from left to right on ankles so thin they’re ready to snap. “What’s this? Looks expensive.” Your eyes sparkle as you take in his appearance, tracing the fabric of his Armani tie with tenderness you have never given to him.

“Ma,” Leon mumbles into your neck, he stumbles past the threshold and the door clicks shut behind him. All he wants is a kiss or two.

“Leon,” You say his name the way you did before, “That’s not my name, darling, you used to be such a good boy.”

“Mommy,” He corrects himself, it’s always been mommy and no one else, “I’m sorry for— I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s not your fault, baby,” Whether he comes or goes, you don’t care, your flippant nature drives him insane. “You’re too much like your father.”

He is not. If Leon was anything like that man, more scum than blood and flesh and bones, your face would be in the concrete. But Leon is your son, and he is who you’ve made him to be. Cowardly. “I’m sorry,” The words dry up in his mouth when your nails rake down his clothed chest, a soft whine slips from the base of his throat, like he’s a dog. Then you scratch behind his ear, and he really is a dog, tail between his legs and everything.

“Oh, my poor baby,” Mommy says, and you pout at him— Did you get your lips done? The money wired over to your account is for necessities. He’s a civil servant, there's nothing classy about that. You piss him off. You do. But you’re his mommy, and he loves you.

The bed smells like you, it was his once, but you take over every aspect of his life. Eat away at any part of him that isn’t appropriate by your terms, a vetting process harsher than the DSO’s. Now Leon’s here, faced with the same hole he crawled out of. The same hole he wishes to crawl back inside. It was safe in there. Warm and quiet. Darkness cradling him like you never have. The one place in which he cannot move, speak or be. The closet he can get to that is stuffing his dick inside.

“Outside clothes on my bed,” You tut, lifting back the covers so you can undress him, “What’s this?” In your hand is an orange tube that you’ve swiped from his back pocket. Leon blinks as you squint at the label. “Oh, darling, you don’t need these, let mommy keep them safe, alright?” Leon nods. That was a new prescription, paroextine, fluoxetine made him a smidge less suicidal, meaning instead of wanting to drive his car off the side of a bridge anytime he got in, he simply drove without a seatbelt in hopes of being crushed to death by a thirty-two tonne truck. Natural selection or whatever. Side effects were shakes, to the point where Sherry was worried he went and got himself put down in the Guinness World Records Book as the youngest recorded case of Parkinson’s disease.

“I need those, ma,” His voice breaks when you tuck them into your bedside cabinet, facing him with your beautiful, cruel smile.

“You don’t need them, Leon,” You gesture for him to come closer, he does, presses his face into your tits, and lets you tell him what’s right and wrong. When it’s coming from you it will always be wrong, but he’ll listen anyway. “It’s not real, baby, you know that, don’t you? I thought you were smarter than this— Shouldn’t be wasting all your money on therapy of all things, I mean, you go to talk for an hour and that supposedly makes everything better?”

“Mm,” Leon makes a noise that is both a grunt and a hum. Please, for the love of god, shut up and get him off— Do something. Hold him. Comfort him. You’re his mother.

“Then they want you to take all these pills-“

“They’re meds, ma,” He corrects for the sake of his— Well, for the sake of nothing at all. Not his ego, not his dignity, they have been depleted completely.

“Meds, huh? You can get addicted fast, and then next minute you know, darling, you won’t be able to function without them- You’ll be like a zombie.” You kiss the top of his head, cooing softly when he raises his head to look up at you like the sad, wet dog he is.

“It’s not crack, ma.”

I know you wish it was.

For an indolent lady who spent half her time doped up on what could only be described as sludge, putting morphine in his milk bottle, you do talk a lot of shit.

“Hah,” Your face changes, you laugh anyway, “You’re so funny, Leon.” You tell him, and he thinks, obsessively, that he would do anything to hear that laugh again.

“Thanks, ma,” Leon’s unrest is mollified by the featherlight touch of your hand on his bare chest, your nail drags down his sternum, as if you’re splitting him in half. It digs into the toughness of his abdomen, he squirms, “That feels weird,” He mumbles, unable to voice out his dislike properly.

“Leon,” You sigh heavily, heavier than his cock in his briefs, “You don’t feel anything, my sweet thing, you’re all empty inside.” He’s a bell jar waiting for its butterfly.

“My poor baby, look at you, can’t do anything without mommy.” Without mommy Leon doesn’t know how to be a real person.

“Can’t eat,” You trace his ribs, sticking out in odd angles through a yellowed layer of skin, “Can’t sleep,” The hollows of his face, his sunken eyes, they tell you everything, “Can’t even breathe without me, can you Leon?” Without mommy he has to be kicked in the gut so his lungs remember what it’s like to breathe. He has to constantly be on the verge of death to know what it’s like to live. “It’s so tiring, darling, I’m too old to be taking care of you.”

“Mommy,” Leon pleads, helplessly, the only manner in which he can behave is helpless.

“Baby,” You toy with his waistband, “You need mommy to help you feel, don’t you?” Feeling should be innate to a human being, shouldn’t it? “Even when you were a baby, Leon, you only cried when mommy did, I used to think it was sweet, but now, darling, it’s gotten a little old.”

Leon whines softly, animal-like, caught by the ankle like a hunted stag, “I’m sorry, mommy— I can’t help it.”

“Oh, it can’t be helped, Leon,” Mommy says impassively, because it is such a chore to jerk off your mentally stunted almost thirty-year-old son. It’s not his fault. He didn’t choose to be this sex-mongering freak that needs to be punished to get off, to not feel ill— To be alive. You started it, and Leon’s sure you’ll end it. Brought him into this world, and you’ll take him right back out of it. At the drop of a hat too.

Your nail, red and glossy and a tad too sharp, presses into his leaking slit. One hand curled around his jaw, the other down his pants. You fish his cock from his boxers, “Mommy was waiting for you,” That makes his chest ache, knowing that he had crossed your mind even once for just a split second, god, he could die a happy man, “Every time you leave I get so worried, I start thinking, well, gosh, how is my Leon doing without his mommy?”

Bad. He does bad in general. Around you it’s bad. He is entirely bad at all times, at every minute, every passing second. With you it’s less bad.

“I just miss you,” Leon says, helplessly beyond help.

“All the time?”

“All the time,” He agrees.

“Oh, baby,” You coo.

“Do you… Did you miss me?” He asks, breathless, twisting in your grip like he’s fitting. Your touch is a million pinpricks on exposed nerves. There's no answer, you just stroke his dick instead, and his moan shatters like an ice fractal. Leon wants to ask and beg and demand— He turns stupid too quick when you cup his balls, squeeze ‘em hard.

“So noisy,” Mommy spits on her palm, real classy, a bit of your whore heritage comes out— See that, it’s a real Kennedy move, dad would be proud. Then you get his cock nice and wet, pumping his shaft as he leaks through the gaps in your fingers. “My sweet boy, you used to be so cute. I miss when you were blonde— It happened to your dad too, it’s a shame.”

“Sorry,” Leon says as if it is his fault natural progression took place, his hips bucking upwards into your fist, schlick, schlick, schlick.

“Well, there’s no need to be sorry about it, you can’t do anything about it, Leon,” Well, at least you’re sane enough to know that, “You know what you can do, darling?”

He shakes his head, abs contracting, balls tightening, ready to blow—

“Clean up before you come to see me,” Your hand is gone, his dick twitches like there’s a parasite inside of it waiting to burst out, “I’m not stupid, Leon,” Your palm sits on his cheek, looking at his stubble with distaste, “And you should shave, look too much like your dad otherwise.”

The scruff is purely out of neglect for his appearance. Leon has never put much thought into it, no one’s ever complained, he’s fuckable. Very fuckable. So fuckable— It’s just you. Mommy says and Leon scrambles to do.

“Off you go then,” You shoo him away, force him to pick his discarded clothes off the floor, he tosses them in the laundry basket. His shrink left the print of her brown foundation on his collar— That’s what you meant by clean up.

In the bathroom cabinet he finds a packaged razor covered in a film of dust. His hand is shaking, nicks his chin once, the sting is not half as bad as your touch. When Leon returns, the nightgown is off, folded neatly on the side, he almost trips over getting to you.

“Mommy,” Leon mumbles around a mouthful of tit, like a proper stupid baby, dumbed-down to fit mommy’s taste.

“I know, baby,” You kiss the crown of his head, stroking over until your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck, “Oh, there is just nothing inside of you but that big ol’ heart, huh?” It’s true. He’s empty but his heart. A heart that turns on its hind legs, rolling over onto its back for mommy and mommy only.

Leon hums, suckling on your nipple like he’s going to get milk out of it. “Can I—“ Leon lifts his head, ducks back down to avoid your scathing gaze.

“Can you what, baby?” You thumb his bottom lip, nail grazing his teeth.

“I want to fuck you,” He says, because he would like to fuck you.

“That’s not how you talk to mommy,” You go to push him off, but Leon shakes his head, and he is stronger— He is, he pins you down, presses his face into your neck. An apology that you accept.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” He’s trembling, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, didn’t mean to talk like that— I’m sorry, please, can we-“

“Fine,” You cut in, and he knows that mommy is a slut. More so than him. That you want it just as bad, you just like playing games.

Leon’s lips part when the tip of his fat cock sinks into your heat. He wishes that your hole would gape like the maw of a beast and swallow him up David Cronenberg style. Wouldn’t that be so fun?

There’s a falter in your breath when he bottoms out with a squelch. You try to be this way, so unaffected, but Leon knows that you’re a glutton for cock. Not his alone, which crushes him, any old dick would do for his mom. It’s how she got by way back when.

“I love you,” Leon moans into your mouth when let him kiss you for the first time tonight, he savours it, lets the taste linger, “I love you, mommy.”

You loop your arms around his neck, pull him closer so his cock is deeper, hitting your cervix with the fat head. The most he can do in your grip is move his hips back and forth shallowly, never allowing more than an inch out of your sweet cunt. It’s suffocating and yet he loves it. Your love is a cage. Contains him. Leon licks the droplet of salty sweat that trickles down between your tits, he spurs his hips forward, fucks you with all that he’s got— This is all he’s good for, just good to give you your fill of dick. That’s why you had a son.

“You can do it better than that, Leon,” You’re panting, eyes glassy as you smile your gorgeous smile at him, “I know you can.”

With a grunt, he fucks you with fervour, balls slapping against your ass, all the nasty shit you love. His dick jumps inside of you, and you gasp, biting down on your tongue as he slams into you once, twice, thrice— Oh, it's so over. Leon can’t help it. Mommy’s pussy is so warm, so hot and wet and tight. Your disappointment is tangible. No need to hide it.

We can work on that, his shrink usually says to mask her annoyance at his premature ejaculation.

Mommy just shakes her head while frowning.

“I’m sorry, mommy,” Leon’s body jolts, hips still moving despite the oversensitivity, his cum makes your cunt sloppier. He fucks it back into you like the filthy boy— man he is, so set on making you come undone that it comes across as a little freakish. Like he’s in a trance or some shit. “I’m so- I’m so sorry, mommy— Didn’t mean to— Fuck, I’m sorry, sorry—“

“Leon, stop that,” You place a hand on his chest. He stops. Leon is good at that. Taking instruction no matter how life-threatening, no matter how embarrassing, he’ll do it to be worth something.

“I’m so sorry,” He croaks, truly humiliated by his dick’s lack of selflessness. Shit just cums without Leon telling it to do so.

Mommy pats his head, “It’s okay, baby, you’re only a stupid little boy, aren’t you?”

Leon nods. Mhm. Mhm. Yup. Yup. That he is. Mommy’s stupidly depraved little boy. Just makes sense.

God, yes. “Yes, mommy,” Leon finds himself face to face with your cunt. One that popped him out. A well-beaten yet pretty pussy, because all of you, to Leon, is beautiful no matter how worn out. He parts your cushioned lips, teeth tugging at your labia as he dribbles his spit over your fat pussy. His cum sticks to your inner-thighs, a shiny trail that dries up before he can lick it up and spit it back onto your puffy cunt.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling at his hair till he’s sure the roots have weakened and now he’s even more prone to male pattern baldness than he was before. Leon focuses his attention on your clit, it’s small and fleshy on the tip of his tongue, the more he sucks the more you drip drop and fill his mouth with your slick. Crazy that is. The clit. It’s just a gift that keeps on giving. And it's good both ways. Leon gets to quell that urge, the sucking on a tit urge, and mommy cums so hard her thighs snaps shut around his head. Your back bows off the bed, and god dammit is he proud.

With the lower half of his face covered in your wetness, Leon re-emerges to kiss you. “That’s enough, darling,” You tell him after the fifth and final kiss. He holds onto it. He just wants you, his mommy. Is it so bad to want?

“I love you, mommy,” Leon says for what might be the third or hundredth time of the night.

“I know, darling,” Your nose bumps his, “I did miss you, Leon, if I’m being honest.”

“Really, mommy?” His heart skips a beat or two. God, it might’ve fucking stopped. Then he’d just be a doll of some sort. The rarest collectors doll that mommy could put in a glass case and show off and dust off— Well, to think she’d care enough to dust him off, Leon has a bit of an overactive imagination.

“Really, darling.” Mommy nods, and he’ll take it. He’ll take it and treasure it.

#leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy angst #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil angst

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 24 days

Text

This is a direct follow up to Story #387, Story #389, and Story #394. It is strongly advised that you read those stories first.

#400

“There he is! Timothy Stone, get on up here!... Welcome aboard! Welcome to the Zelus. I see you are impressed with my tiny tugboat. Ha! Ha! I love looking at reactions of new passengers. You ever been on a yacht this big?

“It’s sixty-nine feet, and enough power to get us around the entire Bahamas and back here to West Palm Beach. It has four staterooms and two crew quarters. You get one of them. Sorry, with the entire executive team here each of us will get our own stateroom.

“Let me text Lloyd to take us out of the marina. All of us have been here for some time. No, don’t worry about it. I told you to be here at three, and it’s five ‘til three. No, we’ve been having fun with our new faggot we got tied up….

“You want a drink?... I have this cognac that I was given in Vegas the other day by a potential client. I haven’t tried it yet.

“Ahh we are moving. We should be out of the marina in a few minutes.

“Here you go…. Cheers! …Ahhh! Smooth. I’m not a fan of cognac, but this is pretty good. It should be. Courvoisier Mizunara is supposed to be one of the best out there. On the shelves it’s worth $2,500. But shit, I couldn’t tell that from a $100 bottle. Bourbon is more my thing.

“Growing up in Tennessee, my Uncle Jimmy used to make his own. Everyone in a five-mile radius of his home had a bottle of his bourbon. I used to help him out in his garage in the evening when his son went off to college. Uncle Jimmy showed me everything, but we always wound-up drinking. I was sixteen at the time. I’d plow his ass at the end of the night. After a few times, he didn’t even wait until we started drinking. He had one of the best pieces of ass I ever had.

“His bourbon lives on with my cousin once my uncle passed. I have a bottle of it here. I may break it out sometime during this trip. My cousin fucked it up when he went ran the company. It’s definitely not as good as it was before. Some boys just don’t have a mind for business.

“Speaking of boys in business, your son Michael is doing great. From what Lloyd was telling me, he’s really taking to his new role as intern. I know he finds it a challenge, but Lloyd, Ben, and Gary think he’s handling it better than anyone they have seen in a long time. Apparently, he has a gift for adapting, kinda rolling with the punches.

“What I like about him—I met him this morning—is his ability to take directions without complaints. That is such a difficult characteristic to find in boys these days. Lloyd and Gary were indicating they want to keep him around after his initial internship. I left him earlier working hard trying to impress me.

“…Oh you hear that cabin tone? That’s Lloyd telling everyone that we’ve cleared the marina and are out at sea. This is your first time on the Zelus. When we are in open water, we strip naked. All of us.

“I told you the other day when we were talking about promoting you to lead our European expansion, that we are a close group of men—of four gay men. We share our conquests, our lusts, our dark needs with each other. I trust these men like I would trust my brother, if not more. We have been in countless gang bangs tearing up some faggot’s cunt. I have seen their cocks and asses so much that it’s awkward to see them clothed. The other two on board are faggots. Naturally those two are going to be kept naked.

“So strip. This is not an option. You can jump overboard and swim back to shore if you would like.

“Good.

“You can leave them on the couch. Ben’s boy will put them in your cabin. If you go out on deck you can keep your sunglasses and baseball cap on.

“You have got to realize that the four of us have known each other for years. Lloyd and I go back to our time in the Corps. What connects us is our love for using and abusing faggots.

“Right now, as I was saying there are two faggots on board. One is Ben’s boy. While Ben has taken him on as a partner of sorts, he’s still a faggot at heart.

“…I guess I should ask, do you know the difference between a gay man and a faggot? A faggot is a gay man who has a need, an urge, a longing to submit to the whims of superior men. The more humiliating, degrading, cruel the better. Faggots live for the cum of its superiors. It loves to degrade itself in order for the man to be elevated. It needs the beatings, the piss, the bondage, the punishment to feel complete.

“I don’t know why you were hesitating about stripping. You have a great body, average sized dick, nice long foreskin, and holy shit… Those balls are huge! Let me hold on to them….

“Hey don’t hesitate. We are all physical with each other as well. Look, I’m standing here in front of you naked. I already saw you check out my dick. Yes, it’s very fat. If you want to touch it, go right ahead.

“You know, as a man who says he bisexual, you certainly seem apprehensive…. Or is it the fact that I’m your boss telling you to take a hold of my cock. I get it. If you are going to be a part of this team, you are going to have to drop those pretenses. When you walk around you should let those low hangers swing free and guide your every step.

“Let me check out your ass. Hey, what can I say? I’m an ass man. I’m going to see it anyways, might as well be now.

“Solid and meaty, just as I would have guessed. Nice and hairy. Faggots seem to love licking a hairy crack. You ever have your ass eaten out?... There may be some ass eating ahead.

“Speaking of which, right now that faggot is down below. It is tied down, blindfolded with a noise cancelling headset on, ass up. The four of us have already bred it. You will be up next.

“Your cock doesn’t seem like it wants to get hard…. Do you need something? We have Viagra, Cialis, Levitra, Muse, Tri-mix. Well, I need a shot of Tri-Mix. After this morning’s big load, I don’t think I could get hard again until tomorrow.

“You ever do Tri-Mix? I use it when I want to fuck for a long time. It keeps me boned up for a few hours. You want to try it? After a few minutes have passed you will be rock, and I mean rock hard.

“If you are nervous, this being your first time with me on the Zelus, just do it. Let me get it. It’s kept cold. Don’t worry, I have a doctor that gives me whatever I want.

“Just stand right there. Don’t worry. I’ve done this many times. Yes it’s an injectable. And it’s injected into the shaft. Aww, don’t turn into a pussy on me.

“I brought two syringes. Let me do it to myself. Here watch…. It goes in, I plunge, and it comes out. Like that. It’s over quick. Now a few tugs and I can already feel it working. I’m not going to get completely rigid for about 15-20 minutes.

“Look, you say you are bisexual, but I’m thinking that you are making up the gay side of it because you want to impress us. You want this promotion so fucking bad you are willing to fuck some faggot in front of us. You wouldn’t be the first straight man to shoot up his cock to fuck fags. There’s a whole term for it: gay-for-pay.

“You want to be part of this team, you are going to need to learn to love using faggots, that includes dumping a load into them. To do that you need to get hard. This injection will do that for you.

“Here feel my cock again. Grab a hold of it…. Feel that? It’s harder than a few minutes ago. Here let me inject you.

“Come here. Just look up. On the count of three. One! See, it went in…. And now you are done. Give it a few tugs and you will start to feel it.

“You’ll be hard for the rest of the night. Lots of fucking in your future tonight.

“When we had our conversation in Vegas, I told you that I was pissed off at your skimming the profits but was very intrigued at the process you used to do so. It took some serious creativity to pull that off. I was impressed. The guys too. We set this cruise out to a remote island in the Bahamas to get to know you—to get to know you as a fag fucker. Besides, the shit we do… man, we wouldn’t take on anyone who had a shred of decency.

“Do you feel your cock getting larger? I can see it growing. Yeah, once we go downstairs into the media room that doubles as a dungeon, you will see the faggot cunt secured to the sling or fuck bench. Your cock will slide into its cunt. And it should be silky smooth. Better than any woman’s pussy.

“We have been training this faggot for a couple of weeks. Lloyd secured him about the time when you and I went to Vegas. He was an easy target. What you probably don’t realize being essentially straight is that there are faggots out there that will do just about anything to serve men like us—brutal men like us. Lloyd has a good talent for reading a potential faggot. He says things that just seems to work on getting that faggot to be collared.

“Once that happens then it’s only a matter of time that they submit to whatever we want to do to them. And all it took was this. See this little fob? This is the tool we use. Here, press the number one button.

“Do it again. And again. What you did, is you sent a shock to the faggot down below. The collar we put on him is wired up, like a collar for a dog to get it to stop barking. Once they feel that, total submission is almost immediate. With this particular faggot, he turned into a whipping post for Ben and toilet paper for Gary in no time.

“Where we keep the faggot is wired up for numerous cameras. So we can see what the faggot is doing and send a shock from anywhere in the world. I even sent one from Vegas when you were looking up some number from some report.

“Look at your cock. It’s starting to get rigid. Damn! You are a grower!

“You know, let’s go see the faggot. The guys will be down there. We are certainly far from shore so Lloyd will have the autopilot on.

“This way…. Doesn’t it feel right to be walking around buck naked? Trust me you’ll get used to it, and soon enough you’ll be naked pretty much all the time. If you need to piss and you don’t have a faggot nearby, just aim off the side and go. The one thing you’ll learn is pissing with a hard-on will take some time, which is great for loading up a faggot’s toilet cunt.

“And here we are. Before we go in, I want to point out that you can see the men are enjoying themselves. In general, we casually use faggots’ holes. It’s about pleasure and not so much about busting a nut, although busting a nut happens a lot.

“Look at how the men are enjoying what’s going on. Ben is balls deep in his boy, while the boy is tongue fucking Gary’s shitter. Lloyd is pile driving the faggot over on the fuck bench, stirring up the cum stew.

“This is the life we created. This is what you are coming into. Let’s go in.

“Gentlemen! I got Timothy here. His cock has been shot up and he’s ready to fuck.

“Damn Tim! You really are a grower. I should have expected that when I saw your long foreskin. Now only the tip shows. Skin it back; I want to see how big your head is.

“Shit! Do you ever clean that thing? Look at that dick cheese…. Come here. Stick your dickhead in the faggot’s mouth. He’ll clean you off.

“The faggot is blindfolded and has noise canceling headset under his hood. He won’t know what to do until you use the handle on his hood to pull his head back. Then just shove your dick in his mouth. The faggot knows to clean off dick cheese; I’m sure Gary made sure of that.

“There you go…. I see that smile. Feels good, doesn’t it? Better than any woman. A well-trained faggot is better than anything a woman can do.

“Well you got Gary and Ben to stop and watch you.

“Oh you see his welts. Yeah, a well-trained faggot also takes a beating. We punish faggot slaves appropriately, but they also are made to understand that sometimes the beatings are for our enjoyment. Ben and Lloyd certainly like to have their fun.

“This faggot has been trained to do so much. He’s going to fetch us a good price. Yeah, we plan on selling him. There are men around the world that pay top dollar for a well-trained faggot slave.

“Pull out. I said pull out. I told you that you will enjoy this.

“Lloyd, move the faggot to the sling. I think Tim here is ready to fuck.

“While he’s doing that, care for another drink? Or would you like a cigar? No? Ok.

“Boy. Go upstairs and pour Tim here a glass of the Courvoisier Mizunara cognac. The bottle should be sitting out. Hell, bring the whole bottle down.

“That’ll help you adapt and sink into everything to come. So have you ever been to a gang bang, or fucked a woman who has several loads in her? The feeling on your cock is amazing. Yes it’s sloppy, but it also feels silky smooth.

“That’s a sight, isn’t it? That cunt has been trained to take cock after cock and still remain tight to give pleasure and loose enough to not cause your dick to struggle to fuck.

“Here’s your cognac. Might as well down it.

“Now go on. Step up. Slide it in. Trust me, this is going to be a fuck you will never forget.

“…Good. You ready?

“There you go! There’s the smile. Now FUCK!

“Give that faggot what he deserves. Slam into him. Faggots were made to be fucked not made love to.

“Hell yes! Look, we are all stroking our dicks for you. You have no idea how hot this is….

“Guys, gather around. You should see this up close.

“…Go for it! Don’t hold back. Breed the faggot.

“FUCK YEAH! FUCK!

“…You did it! In record time! Well done! Don’t pull out yet. Let the rest of your body calm down first. Savor the feeling. Savor the moment.

“You did good. Now, I need for you to pull out slowly. The faggot is trained to clamp down. Good. Good!

“Look at that slime on your cock. That’s all our juices. How do you feel? I know. Words elude you?... Ha!

“Get on your knees…. You heard me. I want you to look at this faggot’s cunt.

“Gary, pull apart the fag’s cheeks. Let’s really see that cunt hole.

“On your knees…. There you go.

“Ben. Lloyd. Now.

“…They move fast, don’t they? You have the same shock collar on you as the faggot does. Now pay attention. This is a level one zap.

“…Hurts like a motherfucker, right? There are ten settings, and you had the weakest. I don’t think another demonstration is needed. Do you understand your situation?

“…Shut up. I don’t want to hear your babble. That was a ‘Yes Sir’/’No Sir’ question….

“OK. You really thought you could skim money from us and be rewarded with a promotion? Please! You need some sort of punishment. That begins with your lips kissing the faggot’s cunt lips. Go on! Lean in.

“…That was level two…. There you go!

“Now keep your mouth open. The faggot may be wearing a noise cancelling headset, but we can speak to him. He’s going to be told to shit some of his cunt slop into your mouth. Do not swallow it. Nod if you understand. Good.

“Whew! That was a messy fart! Remember don’t swallow. Now pull back. Look up at us. Show us the load. Now gargle it. Like mouthwash!

“Two minutes ago, you were a man, but now you are a gargler of cum gobs. Now don’t swallow. Stop gargling.

“Get up and go share that in the faggot’s mouth. Get up…. You know I hate having to repeat myself. If I have to do it again, you will experience level three. Now go and have a deep passionate kiss with the faggot.

“Hold his head and swap spit. Pretend he’s a woman. Hell, pretend it’s your son Michael’s mother. I don’t care.

“Fuck yeah! I didn’t realize that you are an excellent kisser. Pull off. There will be more kissing. Get back to kneeling at the faggot’s cunt.

“You are going to repeat the process exactly the same, except for the gargling. You can skip that. Any hesitation will be met with level three for triple the length. You understand. Just nod.

“Good. Oh, I forgot to tell you one thing. You need to hear it before you go back to eating another splatter fart out of your son’s ass….

“…Oh yeah! The faggot here is your son Michael. This is the internship we set him up with. Oh yeah. Your son was a faggot before us. It was easy for us to pluck him.

“Now, remember level 3. You are to do the exact same thing with the same level of passion.... I'm fucking serious. Go!

“…Damn! That was close. A split second longer in hesitating and you would have been shocked. Keep licking. While you wait to receive your gift from your son’s cunt, Lloyd here is removing your son’s hood. He still has his blindfold and headset on. We will be removing those shortly. You probably won’t recognize him initially because Ben had removed all this body hair even on his head.

“Did you hear that? Gary just busted a nut watching you felch out our loads from your son’s cunt.

“Pull off when your mouth is full. Good. Now go French kiss your son.

“Just like before. Go on now…. Fuck yeah!

“This is so hot.

“Now go back to his cunt. But this time remain standing.

“Stick your slime covered cock back into your boy’s cunt. And fuck him. That Tri-mix I injected you with should keep you hard for a long time. You’ve already fucked a load into him. Now just fuck.

“You really should see yourself. Oh wait, you can. Look over at that TV. Yes, we have been filming you. See your face. There’s panic, fear, guilt, regret, and even a little disgust. All the good emotions. And over on the TV to your right, you can see how your son became a faggot with each of us. Oh yeah, he wasn’t coerced into being a faggot like you were. No, he was totally into sperm burping and pole riding. The fear you had that he might be gay turned out to be true in the most glorious way.

“DO NOT STOP FUCKING.

“And now, we get to see shame you have in him and in yourself, by taking the headset off first.

“Faggot, it is imperative that you do not say a word. If either you or the shithead fucking you say one word, you both will get shocked at level 3. This includes screaming. I want both of you to nod that you understand.

“Good. Now Tim, remove the blindfold.

“Look into your son’s eyes. Let him see just how much your fuck up has cost him. All this is because you had arrogance and ambition. You tried to fuck us over, you tried to steal from us, and you believed that we would be ok with it and promote you as well? Fuck that!

“Are you crying? You are!... Do not stop fucking your son.

“Faggots! That was level 3. Yes! The both of you got shocked. That’s how punishments will be going forward. One fucks up, then both gets shocked.

“Now get back to fucking your son.

“Here’s the situation. We still have about four hours to go. And you have a hard on that will last another three to six. You will be fucking him non-stop until we get to where we are going. Until then, you will not say one word to each other. Remember those shock collars we have padlocked on you were meant for barking dogs. If you say one thing, the sensors will register sounds and you two will be shocked. Also, that sling has a sensor that will monitor for movement. If that movement stops or even slows down—say due to stopping fucking—you two will be shocked. Tim, if your collar should go more than 6 feet away from your faggot son’s collar, you two will be shocked. If any one of us bring up one of our video feeds and see that your cock is not inside your faggot son’s cunt, you two will be shocked. I will free the faggot’s hands. I want the two of you to enjoy playing with each other’s chest. What can I say? I’m a nice guy.

“That’s a lot of fucking between the two of you between now and when we reach the island. But here’s one thing before we leave you both to go have dinner. That island is a small private island, about two to three acres. There’s a small dock and a metal shed to shield from the elements. The owner of the island always has a box stocked with water bottles and something to eat. Last time we sold a faggot there, they put in a hammock between two of the four trees on the island.

“Faggot, you will be left on the dock. The island owners will send carriers to pick you up either tomorrow or the next day. From there, they will arrange delivery to your new owners.

“Until then you are free to roam the small island. Swim. Whatever. If you want to swim to the next island, it’s about 7 miles in open ocean, and that island is about ten times larger, but still uninhabited.

“So that’s the life your dad has caused you to have. Look at him. He’s a failure, and he knows it.

“Well Tim. While you cry, keep fucking your son. This will be the last few hours with him. What do you have to say? Oh, let me turn off your noise sensor….

“…No we can’t simply forget all this. You stole a lot of money from us, it needs to be paid. We paid a lot in fuel to get us out here. We paid for a pick up on the island. They expect a faggot. Now, if you want to switch places with your son, that can be arranged.

“You want to do that? You want to be sold into sex slavery instead of your faggot son?...

“…Well fuck! I wasn’t expecting that! You didn’t waste any time in shaking your head no.

“Faggot, did you see how fast your dad just gave you up? Shit!

“These past weeks have been carefully planned. Every word, every detail. From the Vegas trip where we had our talk, to Lloyd convincing faggot here to sign up to be our intern, to the strip club dancer I paid to have sex with you so that a potential buyer could see you in action, to the tri-mix dose on hand, to the video feeds cued up, and to me handing the shock remote to dear old dad to get him to shock his son three times. The one thing I was expecting you to do was the fatherly thing and offer to go instead of your son.

“Nope. You chose to sacrifice your son. Didn’t even think twice. That’s fucking brutal. Just when I think you can’t be more of a piece of shit, you surprise me.

“No YOU are going to be sold, not your faggot son. Your new owner saw you fuck that stripper, and he wanted you. He’s into hairy middle-aged straight men as his sex slaves. He doesn’t want your hairless faggot son.

“So you are going to be sold. But I wonder. Hmm. I’m going to contact your new owner and see if he’s interested in the pair of you two as a set. Yeah, that is a great idea, to sell your son into slavery as well. If you had just offered yourself up instead of your son, he would have been spared. But no.

“If you have anything to say, save it. I just put your noise sensor back on. Get back to fucking your son.

“Gentlemen let’s go have some dinner. Ben, I see your boy is gone. To start cooking I presume. You are one step ahead, as always. Let’s leave these two have some private time. They have lots to talk about, too bad they can’t say anything. Lloyd, I know you have been eying that cognac. Go ahead and grab it. It’s yours for all the hard work you put in. Actually, you all did good. I’m proud of you all. That was fun.”

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ghostgirl101 · 1 year

Note

Can we get some headcanons of Jeff t.K. in a relationship? ^^

Dating Jeff The Killer Would Be Like This:

A/N: Well, this is a long overdue request, hope the wait was worth it 🙃 I’m going to be waiting for you all at least twice a week from now on, and there are a few spaces left for requests if you want to get yours in for Jeff and others now if you're interested 🔪 This is the original creepypasta Jeff, but I could try writing for David Near's version too if anyone's wondering... enjoy.

🔪• Well damn, there's a lot to include for this crazy son of a biatch, so get ready-

🔪• It's an uncomfortable night, the skies outside pitch black, stars clouded over and your curtains ruffling as you glare tiredly at the ceiling, wishing for sleep to overtake you. But there's just something that's keeping you half-aware, something that makes you toss and turn for a while, eyeing the window with a furrow of your brows. It's almost like someone's watching your every move. You just can't see them.

🔪• Until that whispering, hoarse voice pierces through the still silence from behind your curtains, making your eyes widen in horror at the sadistic chuckling that only gets nearer as you will your body to move from its frozen position.

🔪• The tip of his blade skims across the skin off your face before you can make out his own, pale and deathly and twisted with a nasty, deeply cut grin etched up his cheeks. His cold blue eyes linger over your features, and it’s a frustrating and vulnerable feeling knowing that can read you a lot better than you can him. It’s a tense few moments when all you feel is the end of the sharp dagger trace just light enough down a cheek and your lips, resting there for a second, as if he’s thinking.

🔪• Jeff doesn’t keep you alive just because you’re you - he doesn’t know who you are, or why you look, in his eyes, almost as beautiful as he does. But it makes him curious and confused, something he’s not used to and doesn’t particularly like at first. So with a scoff, the knife is suddenly snatched away, replaced with his face right down next to yours, with a “go to sleep~” and sudden darkness.

🔪• It’s a wonder to you when you wake up the next morning unharmed. It’s unheard of for the infamous killer to let his victims go, but after that night, it’s clear to you that what you experienced wasn’t some sort of weird nightmare. You feel eyes on you almost every minute of the day, footsteps that aren’t your own following you when you’re by yourself, shadows in the hall that turned out to be nothing…

🔪• The only times Jeff will make his appearances where you can actually see and talk to him is at night. At first, it's kind of to see how you'll react - scared and screaming panicking like the others, or oddly curious and mildly apprehensive - if you show the latter, he'll definitely be caught if guard, because he's used to the screaming and crying. But even if you do panic and start some weird chase scene around your house, Jeff seems to find it amusing, until he's had enough and corners you, hissing in your ear, "would you calm the hell down doll, you don't wanna wake the whole damn street, now do you?"

🔪• And you're like yes?!?? Because a scarred maniac is in my room and getting blood stains over my non-washable flooring??! Or maybe that's just me

🔪• This boy can be an absolute mystery to anyone who manages to survive him, because they never really figure out the solid reason why, or his whole backstory, his intentions, etc. All they know is that he's a killer who preys on young people at the night and disappears in the morning. Some survive him because they're interesting for a while, and die when they're not anymore. Some remind him of his past self, and on a bad day, he remembers how much he hates that and gets rid of them too. Some are just to play around with. And then there's you.

🔪• Jeff doesn't give you much of a reason either when you question his motives, because at first, he can't even be sure of why he's ket you around. Is it because you're pretty? Somehow different from his other victims? It's not because he's gone soft. The whole thought process ends up frustrating him, so he'll storm out the window to be alone and try taking his mind off it by going after some whiny targets. But still, he keeps thinking about the question, about you, watching him in some kind of awe and confusion. Why do you care? Why does he care?!

🔪• This whole thing is not some fast-paced cliche love story where everything's sappy and sweet and he'll kill everyone but you. He's still the infamous Jeff The Killer. But that doesn't mean he isn't a little soft for you. Just don't point it out, or he gets flustered and defensive.

🔪• At one point, he wanted to just kidnap you and have you with him all the time, but you had to put your foot down and promise to stick around every night for him to come and go as he pleases, which calmed him down. Because, yeah, that's not happening Jeff, calm yourselffff

🔪• It ends up being him popping in almost every night, with you learning to keep your windows open so you don’t have to keep on replacing the forced-in smashed glass. And even when he visits, it takes time for him to reveal himself, little by little, until you can make out all the rough burns and dried blood that blemish practically every inch of his skin. It's not that he's all insecure - he thinks he’s beautiful most days, and he’s not trying to make you feel less scared by his appearance, because him being the jackass that he is, finds jump scaring you funny.

🔪• But he can have bad days, days where he can't stop thinking about his brother and parents and all that made him who he is, and when that happens, he either bearly says anything and sulks with his knives in the corner of your room, and pretty much lets you do anything. Like, you could end up playing and studying his knives - he watches apprehensively at first, all ready for you to try to stab him in the back - but after time goes by and you've given up questioning yourself as to why you're letting a cold-blooded murderer hang out with you almost every night in your room, he sees that you're not trying to defend yourself in those extreme measures, so kind of lets you do your thing.

🔪• It's nice for him to have the company, too, and he enjoys the small conversations he has with you: the nosy, lucky, pretty little survivor who asks too many questions about him and has a smile that's almost as good as his. Him being him offers to carve one in, and still jokingly tries to while you fight him off with a string of curses. He can be really annoying when he wants to, because he finds your reactions cute. If, on the extremely rare occasions, you happen to see him before it goes dark, doing your homework or something, he'll try drawing on the paper or mucking around with your stuff to distract you. If you're watching something, he'll spoil the ending or give a stupid running commentary. If you annoy him back by any means you can, Jeff gets all pouty and frustrated, but it's also sort of endearing to him??

🔪• So he'll be all "are you freaking stupid, or just suicidal, antagonising a serial killer?!" but he can't help scoffing at you in some form of fondness that he hasn't even realised has been growing in him

🔪• When he ultimately realises that hey! you're stalking and killing the bullies of and are increasingly obsessing over this person, it takes him a bit of time to process. He might not show up on that night, wanting to get his thoughts straight, leaving you very confused, but Jeff does show up the next night wanting you to shut up and sit down and listen to him, because he doesn't want to make this any weirder than it feels for him. You'll hardly understand what he's getting at when he spurts out how you're different and he doesn't really believe in fate but something feels right and every Clyde needs his Bonnie and random crap like that 😂

🔪• You'll have to cut him off with a "so are you asking me out?" and he's like "well... yeah, duh. Don't even think about saying no, because you're not getting rid of me, even if you want to, alright?!?" You can tell he's uncharacteristically nervous. So when you've assessed the situation and see that there's no more harm than there already has been to saying yes, there's an unreadable look of shock and something more in his stony eyes. Then his grin is back, and he's annoying you again by whirling you around in the air and stuff, and boom! You're never getting rid of the maniac. He's yours. Congratulations.

🔪• I'm gonna be honest with you; dating Jeff The Killer is definitely not the easiest mountain you chose to climb, but at the end of the day, if all you want is his manic, obsessive love and devotion to you, then it's well worth it. Take the amount of obsessiveness and stalker behaviour he's shown to you as a weird-ass friend and multiply it by a thousand. I'm not kidding.

🔪• Jeff The Killer genuinely cares about those who have somehow made it to that point with him, and as you're at the top of that list, damn, you'll be spoiled. Don't ask him where he gets all the jewels and trinkets and things you've been wanting or that match your hobbies and talents, because they're yours, and they've always been yours. So your welcome, enjoy, he knew you'd like it. That's one way he shows his love. It's kind of like a way of saying that he's always thinking about you, which isn't an exaggeration at all. I can definitely imagine him killing for you with pride and bringing back a heart all casual-like, while you shake your head with an awkward smile.

🔪• "That's, uh, sweet of you, Jeff, but seriously, throw it away now, that's rank."

🔪• No one else catches his eye after you, too. He's never met someone truly beautiful, inside and out, before you, and he's convinced he won't after. So if someone tries to beg for their life or give him compliments he used to like, it's pretty much ineffective now. "You'll ever be as hot as my doll is, you sadass, but here, I'll carve a little something to get you halfway there~"

🔪• He can actually be surprisingly sweet when he wants to. On his bad days, now he'll just lean into you in silence and twirl his blade around, while you play with his hair or put something on TV or somehow end up staring at him. If you look closer and beyond the chalky white shade of his burnt skin and the deep, bloody scars that trace up from his lips, you can notice how he probably was a good-looking boy before the 'accident.' But don't let him catch you looking, because, bad mood or not, he's a cocky bastard, and will end up grinning and saying something like "it's rude to stare, dolly," which ruins the moment lmao

🔪• Jeff can also get clingy when he feels like it too, though he'll never admit it. He likes how your body's always warm when he is somehow always freezing, and being able to have time alone with you, where you're all his, and no one can take it away from him. He'll go freaking rabid if anyone tries, and no one wants that.

🔪• He gets a little awkward when it comes to comfort and opening up, but he'll get there. He learns from you to just give you a silent hug instead of patting you on the back and telling you to chin up or something stupid, or tries to make you laugh, or kills the thing that's getting you down, if you let him. That's your decision 🙃

🔪• He eventually opens up to you about his past, too, which takes him a lot of courage and a lot of patience for you. It's good that you know, though, because it's something to be even closer about, and the more you know about each other, the more you belong together. At least, that's Jeff's logic.

🔪• Jeff can be a bit possessive and sulky when those moments have to end in the mornings, and he's been known to just shove his white hoodie over your head and demand you wear it when he's not with you. Which is fine, Jeff, but seriously, clean that blood of it first.

🔪• But when all is said and done, no matter how heartless and cold and crazy he may seem, and undoubtedly is, he's sane enough to know that he loves you. His love can be ridiculously intense and overwhelming at times, but you can learn to work around or with it. He will do it. Whether anyone believes it or not, him and you knowing your love is enough for Jeff.

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inkykeiji · 1 year

Text

anonymous said: what would flawless tomura do if they were at a party and he left reader alone for a few minutes and came back to some guy talking to her?

character: shigaraki tomura

genre: smut

notes: okaaaay so it’s a teeny tiny bit more than just talking to her but ah anon! this ask immediately sparked an idea in my brain and i just had to write it for you! this is set within my flawless AU and it’s pretty much a prequel to part two!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, semi-public sex, toxic relationships (jealousy, possessiveness), minimal prep, rough sex, noncon nonsexual touching from a stranger, size difference, implied yakuza

words: 4k

Tomura hates these things.

As far as he’s concerned, these overly extravagant ‘work functions’ are nothing more than an excuse for a bunch of bigwigs and hotshots to get together and jerk each other off.

Really, it’s not much different than a college house party; if you take away the opulent venue and the nice clothes and good food, it’s practically the exact same thing.

He hadn’t wanted to bring you, fucking despises the thought of having you in the presence of any of these animals at all—disgusting and crude and primal and dangerous—but Kurogiri had insisted.

It looks good to include her, Tomura, he had said. You know how important these events are to your father.

And he knows how important you are to Tomura. But Tomura supposes that doesn’t matter nearly as much in his father’s eyes, now, does it?

In his mind, you’re just some silly little girl, a shiny new toy for Tomura to play with, to occupy his son’s time until he needs him, until he once again deems him useful. Then it’s expected you’ll be cast aside in favour of the family business, because nothing could ever be more important to Tomura, poor little orphaned Tomura, saved from the clutches of poverty by the Shigarakis, than the family business he’s being groomed to own one day, right?

Wrong.

But his father doesn’t give a fuck about that. He’s right if he says he’s right, end of discussion, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

So you’re here.

You had been cautiously excited to attend, desperate to earn his father’s favour, to prove that you’re worth it, worth all of the time and energy and love Tomura spends on you; that you can belong, if you really try to.

It’s sweet, really, how eager you are to be a part of the family. Impossibly, it makes Tomura love you even more.

Kurogiri’s been bouncing around the banquet hall like an efficient but headless chicken, splitting his time between checking in with guests and keeping a watchful eye on Tomura, since he has a nasty tendency to suddenly and miraculously disappear into thin air at these things.

The corner Tomura has the two of you wedged in is shrouded in shadows and at the back of the room, far from all of the excitement, the chattering voices and chewing teeth. It’s still loud, though, a mess of chaotic and indistinct noise, booming laughter tangled with confident speeches wafting over you in waves, carrying with them the scent of hors d’oeuvres from the self-serve table at the head of the room.

Your tummy growls, nothing more than a gentle rumble beneath Tomura’s palms, and he hugs you tighter, chin hooked over your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck a little in apology.

“I’ll have Kurogiri grab you some food the next time he makes his rounds, baby, I promise.”

A dainty hand lays atop his own, fingers snuggling between the gaps of his own and resting there.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you murmur, the side of your head knocking against his own.

And, oh, that word.

That special word, nothing more than a sweet huff of breath on your tongue, five little letters that get his blood surging and his chest puffing and his spine straightening.

That one word that summons the true dominant that lays dormant at his core, slept and stomped on by inherent brattiness; that single word that pumps his whole body full of heady authority, muscles swelling with it, tense and gorged on the power it affords him.

But then your tummy grumbles again and Tomura frowns, fingers flexing as they sink into your flesh, holding you closer. Your ankles hook around his calves in response, body melting further into his—giving in, giving over, complete and total control—sagging s little in his lap, and he sighs.

But there’s no way you can get up, no way he can allow you to get up, to go anywhere near the food so meticulously laid out across a long, white table. Because Tomura has already seen the way these mongrels called men have been staring at you, eyes sick and starved as they try to swallow you whole, gazes nipping at your bare legs, tearing at your sweet little dress.

Instinctively, his body curls further around your own, shoulders hunched and chest curved as it molds to your back, almost as if he’s trying to hide you away within himself, within his flesh and bone and soul, far away from those ogling eyes and their gnawing little teeth.

Kurogiri returns not long after, though he is not able to fulfill Tomura’s promise, a slight breathlessness to his tone as he delivers a directive.

“Tomura, your father needs your assistance.”

“What?” Tomura hisses, head whipping to face his handler, eyes narrowed sharply. “With what?”

“There are some people he’d like you to meet,” Kurogiri responds calmly, unfazed.

Tomura’s features pucker, the mere thought sour in his head. “You can tell him to fuck right off, I’m not—”

“Tomura,” Kurogiri cuts him off, stern but not sharp. “Is this appropriate behaviour for a CEO-in-training? These are very important guests—important clients, and it is imperative that you continue to keep our relationship with them in good standing.”

Scarlet eyes dart between you and Kurogiri, settling on the crown of your head, a certain type of woefulness imbuing his features—mouth turned down, eyes drooping slightly, forehead woven with lines of worry.

“She’ll be alright on her own for a second or two,” Kurogiri continues, voice softening. “It’ll only be for a moment, Tomura. Just come say hello.”

“Fine, fuck.”

With the utmost gentleness, Tomura slides you off his lap as he stands, taking your jaw between his palms, bony fingers splayed across your cheeks, so long his middle fingers nearly rest on your temples.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy,” you laugh a little, nudging forward to press a quick peck to his lips. “Promise I’ll survive on my own while you’re gone.”

“You better,” he threatens, cold voice contradicted by the mirth shimmering in his eyes and the love tugging at the corners of his lips. “Be back in a minute or less.”

“Thirty seconds,” you hear him growling to Kurogiri as he stalks off, vying fingers already gouging his own flesh, nails leaving thick divots that pool rapidly with blood in their wake. “Thirty fucking seconds, that’s all they’re getting from me.”

Your eyes trail after him as he weaves through the space, an ache, dull and heavy, settling behind your ribs when you spot the ribbons of crimson adorning his neck, trickling onto his crisp white collar, Kurogiri hastily attempting to dab at them as Tomura viciously swipes at his hands.

The ache throbs, expands and pushes against your ribs as if it’s trying to escape the cage, as if it’s trying to propel you forward, urging you to act, to move, to go be with him.

“Hey,” a voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you startle slightly, gaze snapping towards its owner. “You looked lonely—Like a lost kitten, or something. This your first time at one of these things?”

It’s clearly a lie, you know it is, can see the falsities glimmering in his stretched smile, wide and tense and hungry across his cheeks—there’s no way this man didn’t see you with Tomura only mere seconds ago.

“Uh—”

“I’m Shin,” he continues, eyes obscured by the chandelier lights glinting off his glasses. Even veiled, you can feel it, the man’s slimy gaze gliding up your body, slowly, studiously, and leaving a filmy trail behind it. Your flesh crawls along your bones, feeling wrong, dirty, bare, and you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your ribs. “Nemoto Shin. I work for a, uh, friend of the Shigarakis.”

“Oh,” you say, dull as your eyes skip across the crowd, feet shifting a little as you lean away, hunting for Tomura in a sea of businessmen.

“Actually, I’m a doctor of sorts.”

Your narrowed gaze drifts back to his, eyebrows knitted slightly.

“Of sorts?”

“A chemist, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

Smirking, he tilts his head to the side as if he finds you fascinating, revealing dark eyes as the light catches on his hair.

“I run clinical trials, collect data, and then revise.”

And it’s the way he says it, voice imbued with a sort of deranged glee that smears his sharp smile wider, as if he takes pleasure in conducting these experiments, that has shivers skittering up your spine, nails digging into your biceps as your arms squeeze your torso.

“On people?”

“Of course.”

“Oh. That’s, uh...”

Your eyes dart around the venue again, expensive silk suits and leather loafers all a blur as you search for an out, a familiar face, someone, anyone.

“You know,” Shin begins conversationally, taking a step closer to you. “You look like you’re about the correct age and height for our newest study.”

Large hands wrap around your own, fast and sudden, and forcefully uncurl your fingers, tugging your arms from around your body and holding them out wide, leaning back on his heels to fully appreciate you.

“In fact, I’d say you’re perfect.”

A discontented whine catches in your throat as you struggle in his grasp, attempting to pull your wrists free, Shin’s grip tightening to near bone-crushing in response.

Yelping, you wrench again, trying harder to jerk yourself away from him. He merely laughs in response, a sound that shoots spikes of ice through your limbs, and yanks your arms open further, tutting his tongue as if your struggle is so adorable, head quirked to the side with an egging smirk.

“What do you say? Want to participate?”

“No, you bastard! Ugh, let go of me!”

“C’mon,” he goads, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed sadism. “I promise it won’t hurt. In fact,” his head dips a little, looking at you over the wire of his spectacles. “You might even enjoy it.”

“She’s good. Thanks, though.”

Tomura’s voice has the man flinching, a jolt of panic surging through his veins and loosening his muscles, your arms dropped from his hands in an instant. He recovers quickly, though, any traces of alarm smoothed out from his expression a second later, features morphed into a perfect mask of professionalism.

“Tomura,” he says with a polite nod, a small but appropriate smile on his face. “You’re looking well.”

Tomura says nothing in response, glaring at him through sharpened eyes, crimson simmering with such anger you swear you can see the heat waves radiating from his sockets. He holds the man’s gaze until, finally, the man looks away with a cower, head hung in submission.

And then Tomura’s turning away with a sneer, catching your hands, busy mauling his biceps in desperation, with ease and wrapping a palm around your arm.

“Fucking vultures,” he’s spitting as he all but drags you from the venue, the fingers cuffed around your wrist tensing. “I leave for, like, a minute and they’re all over you.”

“I—I’m sorry,” you’re whimpering as your free hand winds around his forearm, jogging a little in your haste to keep up with his pace.

“Sorry?” he questions, the word seething on his tongue, as if you’re stupid for even apologizing at all. “It isn’t your fault, princess.”

And even though his voice is still scalding, the look he throws you over his shoulder is soft, stuffed full of love.

“Besides,” he’s continuing as he shoves past the heavy glass doors at the entrance of the hall. “I’m gonna show those fuckers who you belong to.”

The satin toe of your heels catches on the rough concrete, instantly causing it to scuff and fray as Tomura hauls you along behind him, the slap of his trademark red sneakers echoing out among the parking lot with each hasty stomp toward his car.

“Tomura, wait!” you’re calling as you teeter quickly behind him.

But he isn’t listening, your staggering not nearly fast enough for his liking, giving another harsh yank on your arm with such vigour it sends you stumbling right into his back, ankles wobbling a little as you almost trip over your own feet, a little yelp sounding in your throat.

He catches you easily, though, skinny arms wrapping around your form, offering minimal stability as they slam you against the driver’s door of the Bentley, effectively trapping you between the metal and his body.

Knobby knees are parting your legs instantly, sharp as they barge at your inner thighs and force them open, his feet framed by your own.

His hips slot up against yours, bones defined and protruding as they press into your supple flesh, his cock already half-hard.

And, God, you’ll never tire of how easily he gets hard, just the thought of your cunt enough to send a rush of boiling blood to the apex of his thighs, to fill his cock, a girlish giggle bubbling past your lips.

“Something funny?” he’s asking as large hands cup your jaw, fingers curling around the hinges and dragging your face upward, prohibiting you from answering as he all but smashes his lips to yours, keen tongue prying through your lips to lick at your teeth.

It’s messy and enthusiastic, just like kissing Tomura always is, smears of drool glistening across your chin and dripping off your jaws in fat, sticky globs to cool in little puddles on your collarbones, dribbling steadily from the corners of your lips as they move and mash and mesh.

His hands work in tandem with his mouth, large palms sliding up your thighs and beneath your dress, hem pooling around his wrists as he reaches your pretty pink panties, revealing your bare legs to the throngs of men clustered around the gilded doors, leering at you through hazy clouds of cigar smoke.

A squeak of his name is pushed from your tongue onto his, muddled and weighted with spit, eyes popping open as vying fingers begin to twist and tear through dainty lace, elastic band snapping audibly against your waist a moment later, leaving a lingering sting in its place.

“Daddy!” you whine as your panties flit to the asphalt in a ruined little heap, legs instinctually trying to snap shut only to be kept wedged open by his hips, a dark chuckle soaking into your skin as his lips glide clumsily from your mouth to your jaw and down the curve of your neck, painting your skin in slick strokes of saliva.

“I’ll buy you more, y’little brat,” he mumbles into your shoulder, teeth sinking into the muscle a moment later and forcing a pitchy cry from your throat, the sound embarrassingly loud, echoing through the parking lot.

His jaw flexes, tenses, burrowing sharp ivory deeper into your flesh until they slice through it, staining his mouth with your blood. His tongue laves over the wound, sops up the oozing blood like it’s sugary syrup tinged with copper, and seals the bite with spit that turns frigid the moment his mouth is gone.

A large hand squeezes your thigh, fingertips dipping into plush skin as they hoist your leg up, hooking it over his hip. You can feel his clothed cock, prodding your bare hole as he ruts unevenly against you, premature little thrusts that he can’t quite seem to quell.

A collection of baritone murmurs draws your attention back to the men, tendrils of smoke coiling in the air as they watch the scene in front of them unfold, exhaling little chuckles and comments among themselves, eyes never straying from your bodies.

It all feels so fucking grimy, their gazes sludgy as they creep across your frame, thick like glue as Tomura’s free hand traces up the curves of your torso to knead your breast much too hard, eliciting a low whistle and a smattering of claps.

“Daddy, Daddy, they’re looking,” you whimper, casting another quick glance at the men and wincing when your eyes connect with theirs.

“Let them look.”

“Tomura!”

“I want them to look,” he growls, a sort of petulant possessiveness bleeding into his tone. “I want them to see who you fucking belong to, I want them to see what they can’t touch, I want them to see who it is that makes you cry and scream and cum. ”

“No, Daddy, please,” little fingers curl in the cashmere of his dress shirt, attempting to use his body as a shield. “Not here, not like this, not all out in the open—”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a baby.”

“No, no, no,” you’re nearly weeping, head shaking in shuddered little movements.

Panic rips viciously at your chest, rising high in your voice as protests pour from your lips, heated face burrowing into the junction of his neck. You’re pawing at his shirt now, a few of the buttons popping open to reveal milky skin stretched over a prominent collarbone.

“You can do it, angel,” he chides, voice just a hint gentler. “I know you can do it for me.”

A hiccup hitches in your throat, caught painfully on a breath, interrupting your stream of pleads, burning tears leaking from your crunched eyelids and staining his collar with salt.

“Please, please, please,” the word is humid against his neck, exhaled on shaky little gasps, letters disintegrating into droplets of condensation on his scarred skin. “I don’t wanna, please, Daddy, I don’t—”

“All right, Christ,” he’s groaning over your pathetic begging, pivoting your bodies quickly and keeping an arm wrapped around your waist as he rips the drivers door open.

Collapsing heavily behind the wheel, he pulls you down with him, hands rough and cumbersome as they try to rearrange your body into straddling him.

It’s cramped, one knee digging into the centre console while the other leg bends, foot planted on the leather of the seat.

“Get my fucking cock out,” he’s spitting at you the moment the door shuts, hips pushing upwards in emphasis. “I can’t fucking wait any longer.”

You’re obeying in an instant, dainty fingers clawing at the buckle of his belt, leather cracking as you yank it free from the prong. Then he’s lifting his hips again, aiding you as your fingers hook in the waistband of his briefs and tug, pulling his trousers down with them.

His thighs spread instinctively, elastic and cotton cutting into thin muscle.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he’s muttering as his palms wrap around your hips again, dragging you towards him to hover over his swollen, leaking cock. A hand grips the base, holding it steady as he lines it up with your hole, the head bumping against your cunt.

For the breath of a moment, everything is still, your combined panting ragged as it rings throughout the car, dense and tangled. Your forehead knocks against his own, hands clamped over the back of his seat.

And then he’s shoving his cock into you with one quick, sharp thrust upward, a high whine escaping your lips as your face scrunches in pain.

Your cute little hole stings as his cock tears through it, rips you open wide and forces you to take it all, a loud cry spilling from your lips as Tomura holds your hips in place, savouring the way you spasm around him, desperately trying to adjust to his girth.

The pace is brutal right from the start—not that you’ve come to expect anything less from Tomura—the snapping of his hips vicious as he pounds into you, sweet little snarls falling from scarred lips with each slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

There’s nothing for you to do but just take what he’s giving you, his grip on your waist blooming tiny blotches of blues and purples in the shape of his fingerprints into your skin as he holds you in place, thighs flexing in time with his powerful thrusts, the soles of his sneakers skidding against the rubber floor mat as he uses his feet for leverage.

It hurts, but Tomura doesn’t care, hips rapid, rabid, ruthless as they piston into you, so rough and hard and fast that it has your entire body shuddering, the thin, sharp heel of your stiletto skidding against white leather, tearing it open.

It hurts, but it’s also so fucking good, choked little wails of his name and his title knotted on your tongue, each one fucked out of you as he bounces you on his cock, easy and effortless like you’re nothing more than his favourite little toy.

And there’s something so hot about it all, something so wicked and disgusting and deliciously depraved about fucking in the middle of a crowded parking lot, open and on display for anyone to see as the sun begins its descent below the horizon, lacking the protective veil the night brings with it.

You can feel their eyes searing into your skin, glaring and gawking, wide and unblinking, the Bentley’s thick windows doing little to lessen the smoldering of their gazes as they roam your body, the Bentley’s bulletproof glass muffling the howls and the whistles.

It sends sick thrills racing through your veins, leaving your blood fizzy and muscles tingling, a loud moan, stuttered by Tomura’s incessant bucking, tumbling from your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s it, baby,” he says, but his voice is hoarse, straining under pleasure, edges of his words breathy, almost whiny in a way, as if he’s begging instead of instructing. “Show them. Show them how pretty my cock makes you.”

“Yes, Daddy, yes, Daddy,” you’re whimpering out, head nodding in tiny, short motions with your words.

And you do—ever the perfect, obedient, good little girl that you are—cumming pathetically quickly, the fast, hard drag of his cockhead over that swollen patch of tissue buried deep inside of you combined with the peeping, prying eyes resulting in your sweet cunt convulsing almost violently around his cock, thighs aching and tense as his title shatters on your tongue.

It’s so much, slick gushing down his shaft to soak into the waistband of his pants, bare thighs slippery with your essence, sick and sticky with each slap against your ass, obscene sounds echoing throughout the car.

“F-Fuck,” he gasps, the curse cracking in his throat, head knocking back against the headrest and face contorting in ecstasy, watching you through lidded eyes and thick black lashes.

His thrusts have turned messy now, rhythm sloppy and irregular as he jackhammers into you almost desperately, clenched teeth bared and on display.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy—” you’re mewling, grappling little fingers twisting in his damp shirt, nonverbal begging imbued in the motion.

“M’cumming,” he nearly moans, cutting you off before you can even ask for it.

He gives you exactly what you want, a mere two thrusts later, whole body going rigid as his nails gorge themselves on the flesh of your hips, holding you still as his cock pumps you full of thick, hot cum.

And he’s so fucking beautiful, breathtakingly so, so much that it decays your words and kicks them from your chest in frail little huffs.

Sliver tufts of hair have flipped upwards, clumped and curled with salt, tiny dewdrops of sweat collecting on the points, glittering in the waning sunlight. The white of his shirt has turned translucent, sodden and sticking to his juddering ribs, expanding and straining beneath his heavy, laboured breaths, the whole cage starkly defined, shadows outlining all of the curves and contours, bumps and ridges, each bone and every gap.

But then he’s pulling you from your admiration, gangly arms wrapping around your body tightly.

“Mine,” he murmurs as he hugs you to his chest, whole body finally deflating, soaking into your own.

“Yours,” you whisper with a little nod, pressing chaste kisses along his scarred neck. “Yours, forever.”

His. Forever.

He hopes they all understand who you fucking belong to, now, hopes they’ll keep their grubby hands and grimy gazes off of you, now, but should any of them forget—well, neither of you are necessarily opposed to teaching them this lesson again.

#shigaraki tomura smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #eee hehe enjoy!!!! it's just something smaaaall but i really enjoyed writing it!

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