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simplyhughes · 1 month

Note

If you’re taking requests, can I get a Hughes brother (I don’t care which one) childhood friend to lovers fluff?

Lake House

The summer when y/n and Luke have given into their feelings (*^ω^*)

WC: 1743

Anon thank you so much for this request! It was a lot of fun!!!

Pairing: LH43 x Reader

Warnings: None (?) just fluffy fluff. There may be grammatical errors, my apologies!!

Stars decorated the sky, painting patterns across the earth. Crickets chirped softly while teasing banter and laughter mingled with the gentle melodies of the top hits radio, enveloping the outdoor patio of the Hughes’ lake house. You and your family had made their way to Michigan every summer, staying with the friends you call family. Your mother and Mrs. Hughes, who insists you call her Ellen, shared a college dorm, and the rest is history.

The two families gathered around a lit fire sharing stories from throughout the year, making up for the time spent apart. You stepped out onto the porch after using the restroom to see that all the folding chairs and loveseats had been filled. You gave a tug to your sweatshirt sleeve, scanning the seating situation to decide your next move. The youngest of the Hughes brothers, Luke, glanced your way, initiating eye contact.

Being the same age as Luke created a unique bond between you, distinct from your relationships with his two older brothers. When Quinn and Jack would sneak out to meet with some girls by the dock, it would be you and Luke in your makeshift fort binging movies. Or when everyone would pile onto the boat to go wake surfing, Luke would stay behind cause he knows you get seasick. It was the stuff like that growing up that made you two so close. Your mothers would gush behind your backs, betting on your future together on who would confess first. But you two were young and oblivious, just living in the moment, cherishing all the time you could be together before summer came to an end.

As your eyes met Luke's, his demeanor changed; his eyes softened but his body tensed. He raised his hand, tapping his leg, signaling you to come and sit with him. For some reason, you were slightly taken aback. It is not like you haven't shared a seat before… you guys used to have sleepovers and share a bed. But it may be the fact that you both are all grown up and that Luke got a whole hell of a lot more handsome. You mouthed “Are you sure?” over to the boy, and he just replied with a nod. The conversations around you continued as you walked across the wooden patio.

"Hey..." you began, glancing down at Luke. His gaze rose to meet yours, and a grin spread across his face as he wrapped one of his large hands around your waist, almost pulling you onto his lap. You followed his lead and took a seat. His arm then encircled your waist completely, and he rested his head on your shoulder. Your body initially tensed at the sudden display of affection, but soon you relaxed against his chest as the two of you eased into a casual conversation.

Luke's older brothers didn't miss his bold actions. Quinn nudged Jack in the side and discreetly pointed in your direction. Jack stifled a laugh followed by a playful jab to the gut by his older brother. “Who knew Lukey had game?” Jack joked with a stupid smirk. Quinn merely shrugged, signaling Jack to halt his teasing before you and Luke caught on.

Throughout the rest of the summer, Luke's gestures did not simmer down. Anyone who didn't know the pair would think they were a couple. Whenever you were together, one of you was always hanging on to the other, like a support beam. If one of you headed to get food, the other promptly followed suit. And if one of you emerged from the lake sopping wet, the other immediately wrapped them in a warm towel. Luke's actions weren't entirely surprising to you. Longing touches, tight embraces, the gentle tucking of hair behind your ear—all felt like natural extensions of your friendship. But both your mothers saw. They saw the subtle dance of affection that whispered of deeper feelings. It was in the lingering gazes, the softness of their voices when speaking to each other, and the way their laughter seemed to harmonize effortlessly. Luke's brothers could see it. They could see the unspoken attraction between you, clear as day. Deep down you knew it, Luke too. Yet both of you could not rattle the idea that the other didn't reciprocate.

The boat ripped through the water under the control of Jack. “Jack ease up man! You're gonna kill us all,” Quinn yelped. Luke, who sat lazily right next to you, just chuckled at their antics. You looked a little pale in the face.

“Hey… You okay y/n?” Luke questioned, dragging his hand through his damp curls.

“Does he not know how to drive this thing?” You complained sluggishly.

“Awh is someone feeling a little seasick?” He teased. “Jack slow down you asshat or let Huggy take over!” He shouted over to the two boys who still happened to be fussing at the wheel.

“C’mere…” Luke slung his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively rested your head against his.

Jack shuffled out of the driver's seat annoyed. He shot a glance over in your and Luke's direction.

“Oh my god, can you guys just kiss and get this over with already… Jesus,” Jack mumbled, letting out his frustration. The color returned to your face as Quinn took over, but the pale was replaced with an embarrassing red. You hid your face in Luke's chest trying to ignore Jack's words.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Luke retorted. “You're such a dick.”

The sun had set and the boat pulled into the dock. The sky was all different hues of pinks, yellows, oranges, and reds. Jack had rushed off the boat to meet up with this ‘rocket’ he was talking to leaving you, Luke, and Quinn. “Don't worry Huggy we can clean this up,” Luke said, gesturing to the empty beer cans, towels, and sunscreen that littered the boat. “You sure?” Quinn hummed. You could tell he was tired; I guess it is hard work being the boat's captain. Luke nodded back at his eldest brother while you let out a groan. The boat bobbed as Quinn stepped off. You shuffled across the boat's floor, grabbing a trash bag. Luke tossed the empty cans into the bag that you held open. “Maybe you picked the wrong sport, Lukey,” you joked as he threw another can in, mimicking a basketball toss. Your teamwork was pretty effective, only taking 15 minutes to get the boat back in good shape. Luke hopped off the boat onto the dock. His hand extended to grab yours.

“M’lady,” He snorted, taking a bow, helping you off the boat.

You hit him with your hips. “Dork,” you rebutted.

As the colors of the sunset faded into the velvety embrace of the night sky, you and Luke found yourselves on the dock, your feet dangling over the edge. The only sounds were the gentle whispers of the wind through the trees that seemed to be as tall as skyscrapers, the crickets that chirped into the early hours of the morning, and the crashing of water as it rolled into the muddy lakeside shore.

Luke let out a soft sigh, his gaze fixed on you with a look that made your heart flutter. You tried to keep your composure, your eyes focused straight ahead. But you simply could not help yourself any longer.

"What are you looking at, Hughes?" you quipped, breaking the silence.

"You," he replied simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

You turned to face him, your breath catching in your throat as his hand gently brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a warmth deep within you.

"Me?" you echoed, unable to tear your gaze away from his.

"Only you," he murmured, inching closer until there was barely any space between you.

He took his hand, guiding a piece of your fallen hair behind your ear. His hand then stayed resting on your cheek. Placing your hand on top of his you spoke, "Luke…".

“Can I kiss you y/n?” he interrupted.

Your eyes dilated, still staring back at his. Your throat went dry, parched by the sudden rush of adrenaline, while your heart pounded against your ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. The only thing you could do was nod. He brought his face close an inch away from yours. His hot breath whispered against your cheek. Time stretched, suspended in a haze of anticipation before his lips finally met yours. His unoccupied hand quickly found a new place to reside, resting on your hip, pulling you in as close as possible. Your lips parted, both in search of air. That single kiss was not enough for Luke. He dove back in, pressing kisses to the side of your neck, trailing behind your ear, with his hair tickling your jaw. The new sensation made you gasp, locking your fingers into his hair. “Luke…” you groaned.

Eventually, the heat had worn down, leaving both parties in shock at the events that had just occurred.

“Y/n…” Luke started, “I have liked you- wait no…” he stopped himself. “I have loved you for the longest time. At the end of every summer, my stomach twists itself in a knot. I dread leaving the lake, I dread leaving summer behind, but I dread leaving you the most. I am not sure how I have been able to get myself through the long winters and the busy fall. It may be the lingering thought that I will eventually make my way back to you. You are my best friend, you always have been and you always will be. I don't wanna screw this up, and if you don't like me back we can pretend this never even happened…” he rambled.

“Luke.” You cut him off.

“Yeah?” He quickly replied, turning his eyes onto you.

“We literally just made out you idiot… I would hope I like you back.” His chest sank back in relief with an exhale. “I cannot picture my life without you.” You added with a more serious tone. “We have grown up together and I expect to grow old with you.” Luke didn't reply with words. He pulled you back into a deep kiss.

The sun had officially set, leaving a blanket of twinkling lights. The young couple spent the night together in the wake of new romantic revelations. This was the night where their friendship had blossomed into something more.

#jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes 43 #hockey #nhl #new jersey devils #simplyhughes

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despairots · 11 months

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━━━━━━━━ in another another dimension.

1610! miles morales x gn! spiderman! reader x 42! miles morales. angst, and sorta fluff?? also spoilers if u havent seen the movie yet, shit writing since i havent wrote in a long time 👎

where miles morales was your boyfriend and died in your dimension ‘cause you couldn’t save him in time after he was pushed off a building. where earth 1610 & earth 42, you’re dead ‘cause you got pushed off a building.

you couldn’t save him in time. by the time you saw his figure disappear from the ledge of the building, you were already frozen in spot, seeing as if the love of your life was gonna die and it was because of you.

even though you caught him by the chest with one of your webs, the recoil already impacted his head and back, causing him to die. you couldn’t apologize to him after the argument you two had.

“miles… i am so sorry. please wake up. wake the fuck up, miles! this isn’t funny. please tell me i’m dreaming, please tell me you’ll wake me up from a nightmare like before. please, i can’t lose you too…”

he always would wake you up and comfort you after a nightmare, he wouldn’t do that anymore. he would always whisper sweet things in your ear that always made you blush, he wouldn’t do that anymore.

nothing that was only exchanged between the two of you wouldn’t happen anymore, nothing. it was meaningless to you, you missed him. it was obvious to everyone.

your parents, friends, miles’s parents, classmates, teachers, schoolmates. they all knew how much you cherished eachother, how much you couldn’t keep living without eachother.

when he needed you the most, you weren’t there. you weren’t able to save him in time. maybe you could this time, saving him from a hundred other spider people.

EARLIER.

“this your friend, gwen?” a familiar voice was heard behind you making you quickly turn around, your spider sense going off. “miles?” “[name]?” the two of you spoke at the same time, jaw dropped and eyes widened.

“this was the surprise you meant, gwen.” all guilt that you thought you buried long time ago was to much to handle when you saw him, the same beauty that he had when you he died in your universe.

you couldn’t help but hug him tightly, face buried into his chest, he was always taller then you. miles jumped a little bit before hugging you back, his face buried on top of your hair.

you were restraining yourself for crying, small sniffles came from you as you could see gwen lightly smiling at the two of you. embarrassment was the only thing that made you pull away.

“sorry! i— um, have a miles morales in my dimension b - but he died.” you stumbled upon your words, blush on your cheek as miles blinked at you. “it’s fine. i have a you in my dimension but they — uh, died.”

miles nervously chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. it was awkward between the two of you, completely embarrassed that you hugged eachother even though you technically knew eachother too.

when you think about it, maybe you could save him this time… from millions of spider people and being thrown to his earth with him.

EARTH ???.

miles told you to wait in the living to talk to his mother, brooklyn was totally wrecked on his earth. spiderman was gone for just two days or maybe more and brooklyn looked like hell.

it didn’t feel right, you felt uneasy. it felt to surreal, to unrealistic in your opinion. you turned invisible when you saw mrs. morales, miles’ mother, walk out of his room, laughing.

he tried speaking to her before getting cut off by glitching, scaring you. ‘he’s in the wrong dimension.’ miles and you shared a look, signifying the look of terror.

‘the spider that bit him… it wasn’t from his dimension. miguel was right… he was never meant to be spiderman.’ the door creaked open, revealing the man who thought had died in miles’ dimension.

the two chattered, his uncle taking him to the roof as miles looked at you and gestured to follow him. it was shocking, to say the least, watching the two look at a mural.

your eyes widened at the art, instead of miles’ uncle dead, it was his dad and you. until then, you realized, you were always going to die in ever dimension but yours.

no matter how many times, no matter how many dimensions, the universes were working together to stop you and miles from every getting together.

that’s why miles died in yours, you dying in miles, and you dying in this world too. the universes never wanted you two to get together, maybe it was because of the saying:

in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spiderman.

you were too lost in thought that you didn’t realize miles was knocked out until your spider senses tingled, reflexes making you dodged the incoming punch.

your hood (from your black sweater that you wore over your suit) flipped off, revealing the tight frown and scowl on your face. “what the f— miles…” you whispered the last part, seeing him on the floor.

something was poked into your neck, injecting you with something and forced you to sleep. losing authority over your body, you fell to the ground, unbothered by it.

your body didn’t touch the ground, that’s the thing, someone caught you in time. they cradled you softly in their arms, watching your eyes blink in and out if reality before completely closing.

aaron scoffed at his nephew, “that’s not the [name] you knew, they ain’t yours.” his nephew mumbled a yes, watching you sleep with the beauty you still had when you died.

your fingers were twitching, a small habit that you always had when sleeping. he missed you, he missed you so damn much.

and when he saw your face when your hood flipped over, he felt like he got a second chance to be with you.

but when he looked over at the other miles that was over his uncle’s shoulder, he felt hatred. he didn’t want to risk you to his other counterpart, he didn’t want to lose you, again.

and that was the same feeling 1610 miles felt, he didn’t want to lose you again. and for sure, you felt that way too.

#kaz. 💫#spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #1610 miles #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #miles morales x reader #spiderman reader #angst #fluff #character death #1610 miles morales #42 miles morales #earth 42 #earth 1610 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales

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fangirl-dot-com · 4 months

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Chapter 13 - I-T-G-I-R-L, You Know I am That Girl

So this chapter is a little different. As well all know, the reader is an ICON and no one is near her level and she will do some iconic things in 2024

Look out for the dates to see how the time line goes (its a bit all over the place so I apologize but this will end with the start of the F1 Season with her clip in the Formula One Intro for every race and some other little things.)

And I know most of the pictures I used were Max but we play pretend here :D

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated <3

TAG LIST IS OPEN

February 20, 2024

acrosstheline.podcast we are so privileged to have sat down with y/n.89 for this all exclusive interview where we discussed her opening races, femininity in male-dominant sports, and what it takes to be a racer - read now in our special edition

liked by y/n.89, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 751,836 others

lilymhe is this what you've been working on! so so proud of you

y/n.89 hehe it is! and love you too - tell Alex that I'm taking you alex_albon I'm right here y/n.89 and? lilymhe gagged him

y/n_updates OH MY GOSH OUR GIRL'S FIRST MAGAZINE

y/n_lover and hopefully not the last! y/n.89 definitely not y/n_updates SHE RESPONDED?!

change_ur_f-car the questions were top notch! good to see interviewers who aren't looking to poke and prod for a reaction

y/n.nation favorite quote - "I never thought I'd podium on my first race - let alone finish it in the points. I hope that this means that this season will be good. I've always said that I was born to break records - and I'm glad to see that I wasn't lying."

formula1fanatic this was beautifully written, I was skeptical about her joining - but now I have no doubts. she truly belongs in the car to win

May 15, 2024

duke Y/n L/n has taken the Motor Sport World - and everyone else - by storm. we had the opportunity to sit down with the rookie and discuss the inside feelings that might take over during the pressures of her first year. these are the unfiltered thoughts of y/n l/n.

liked by charles_leclerc, formula1, and 284,937 others

y/n-lover MOMMY, sorry, MOTHER, sorry, MOMMY

maxiel_obsessed glad you put my thoughts into words

y/n'soneandonly can arthur_leclerc fight? post up frenchman

charles_leclerc he's MONEGASQUE

girls4girls this is the moment I became a fan

89_all-the_way "I looked around one time and really thought about how I was the only female racer. I was waiting for the doubts to creep in but instead pride found its way into my soul. I made it and no one can stop me" WHAT AN ICON

box-box literally one of my favorite moments number1y/n-fan I love her so much

maxverstappen1 where is your shirt young lady?

y/n.89 its called fashion - something you haven't heard of mr. I only wear RedBull merchant lewishamilton glad to see you went with my outfit suggestion georgerussell33 what was wrong with my suggestion!? y/n.89 I was not about to wear a Tommy Hilfiger jumpsuit

francisca.gomez loml - so proud of you girly

y/n.89 thanks kika! tell pear I want you back

pitstopfailure BARK BARK BARK BARK

October 7, 2024

voguemagazine "I think that I was born for this. there's nothing else I'd rather be doing than getting in my car every weekend and putting my life on the line for the sport I love," says Y/n L/n. Her days are directed by high speeds, training, and breaking records.

liked by kellypiquet, lewishamilton, and 820, 184 others

redbullracing that's our rookie!!

emotionalsupport-rivals and everyone liked that bullsrunred they are everything to me your honor

verstappensfam first kelly, then y/n! now max just needs a vogue addition

y/n.89 oh I'm working on it!

y/n-on-top they hit us with that "no one is on her level. they may be close, but we haven't seen talent like this since Lewis Hamilton's rookie year. even then, it feels different - she's different."

iamred-iamyellow and then they follow up with "her poise and composure are unmatched. she wins and maturely celebrates, she doesn't too well in the race - she takes it to heart and fixes it. she is everything a formula 1 driver aspires to be."

y/n.89 BEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT EVER!!!!!!

oscarpias-tree the way her birthday is right in the middle of Max's and Arthur's birthdays y/nxarthur exactly 7 days after max's and 7 days before Arthur's

December 4, 2023

time Y/n L/n (y/n.89) is TIME's 2024 Woman of the Year.

In her freshman season of Formula 1, L/n talks about her phenomenal rookie year, carving her spot into the sport, and the up's and down's of the expectations that were on her shoulders.

liked by taylorswift, zendaya, and 926,824 others

y/n-lover LETS GO!!!!!!!

maxverstappen1 so so proud

taylorswift congratulations y/n.89! you deserve this and everything!

y/n.nation that's our girl right there - woman of the YEAR

y/n.89 why is everyone tagging me in this post??

landonorris uh, did you even look at it??? oscarpiastri you were announced woman of the year? y/n.89 oh. boxbox_nightmare where'd she go logansargeant oh she's screaming right now - I can hear her though the walls y/n.89 LOGAN

y/n_updates everything about this article changed the way I think about life

lestappenlove this is my Roman Empire

December 20, 2024

motorsportsproduction The "Minds of Champions" special issue is out now!

We thank sebastianvettel, maxverstappen1, and y/n.89 for sitting down with us for this exclusive. Inside you will find separate as well as joint interviews from the drivers.

liked by arthur_leclerc, danielricciardo, and 2,947,935 others

lastlaplando the way they had not only y/n and max but SEBASTIAN VETTLE TOO

vettelsvetos this is everything to me, I know y/n isn't a champion yet but the way she talks and acts - she's truly champion material

emotionalsupport-rivals max, y/n, and Sebastian are the perfect trio, I could see them win a Le Mans race one day

box_box oh my gosh yes - they'd be the perfect line-up

redbullracing our three generations: past, present, and future

sebastianvettel thank you for having me - it was a special time

y/n.89 it was so good to see you again seb! planning my Switzerland trip as we speak maxverstappen1 am I invited? charles_leclerc Sebastian's favorites ONLY maxverstappen1 then why are you still here? y/n.89 shots fired (you're all wrong - I'm the favorite) landonorris popcorn is out and the girls are fighting

landonorris sad I wasn't invited for this interview

motorsportsproductions next time mr. Norris, next time

y/n.nation half of these interviews made me cry

y/ndoesiconicshit so, y/n dyed her hair navy and red just for a RedBull commercial? she is COMMITTED - sad that she eventually got back to her blond hair

liked by lastlaplando, maxiel-lover, and 170 others

y/n.nation sorry to tell you but these were wigs, y/n mentioned it once in an interview :(

y/ndoesiconicshit NOOOOOOOOOOO y/n-on-top her hair would have been crispy af if she actually dyed it

formula1fan when I tell you I switched teams because of this commercial

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n put out bts pictures of her first photoshoot and lemme tell you - I am in LOVE

liked by y/n.nation, pitstopfailure, and 239 others

f1-today this photoshoot was everything to me

y/n-loves-me people better be glad that y/n chose to be a driver and not a model

formula_uno the way that half the drivers could be models if they quit their day jobs

y/n_updates those pictures are on my wall

y/ndoesiconicshit apparently y/n wasn't ready when Max came to pick her up before media day - so she got ready in the car (what a queen)

liked by y/n-lover, y/n_fan, and 361 others

piastri_81 the way she's so unbothered, in her vlog from that day she sounded so chill while max was freaking out about being late

icon-y/n I quote "max what would they do? fire us? yagirl89 the follow up "YES" and then the "oh" had me dying

lastlaplando her skin is flawless - she needs to drop that skincare routine asap

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n's birthday was wild - y/n hinted at what happened but nothing was confirmed. all we know is that the wags took her out to celebrate the night of and they all went radio-silent (max and Arthur were panicking)

liked by change_ur_f-car, formula1fanatic, and 613 others

f1_wags apparently they went to a club where phones weren't allowed for privacy reasons

y/ns_oneandonly the leaked videos tho were hilarious

y/n-and-wags but the outside videos of Arthur and Max coming to get her melted my heart

maxiel-lover i NEED the details like water - y/n better drop them

y/ndoesiconicshit y/n at the premier of the Formula 1 film "Can't Catch Me" starring Tom Holland - when she stepped out on the red carpet ALL cameras went to her, like no one else was photographed during this time

liked by y/n.89, arthurxy/n, and 729 others

tomholland-fan DID ANYONE NOTICE Y/NS CAMEO THO

y/n.nation I thought that woman looked familiar! y/n.89-love where was she! I'll go back and watch it just to find her tomholland-fan it was when Tom's character needed to go to the mechanics for his Honda - she was the one he talked to and she was also at the end race as a engineer as well!

RedBull.nation the way everyone held their breaths when she stepped out of the car, the only sound was the clicks of the cameras and then the crowd just erupted in a roar to get her attention

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

Start of the actual chapter!

Your sunglasses sat perched on your nose as you sat in the back seat of whatever rental you were in for the day. Your fingers swiped the screen of your iPhone, constantly switching videos before they could even finish. Vito sat next to you, looking out the window as he talked to someone on the phone. Words about contracts, signings, photoshoots, and interviews rattled around in the car. The driver turned the wheel as he pulled up to the studio. The car lurched as it came to a stop.

Vito quickly hung up on the phone with a short goodbye. You turned off your phone before you stepped out of the car.

“What was that all about?” you asked as he guided you to the front of the building.

You heard the click of his phone as he locked it and opened the door. You said a quick thank you as you were blasted with the air conditioning.

“Just some calls I had to make. Lots of people are wanting to interview you kid. I have to make sure that they’re not just using you or plan to ask you stupid questions.” His fingers flew over the screen, probably typing yet another email.

You just nodded. Vito had taken care of you for so long, he’d take care of you now. You knew how dangerous the media was, especially as a woman in your occupation.

The two of you followed a long hallway down to a big room where cameras and other filming equipment were set up. Right now, Max was in the middle in his racing suit working on poses. Since he was the 2023 champion, you guessed he’d be doing what he did last year and the year before. But you’ll have people know you tried to convince him to do an actual pose, but he was resilient against your puppy eyes.

You however had no clue what pose you were going to do. So, you were really hoping that someone would be able to assist you.

Max quickly glanced at you and shot you a smile before being directed to pay attention. His smile melted and his stone-cold façade showed up. You wanted to shiver since you knew that Max was this big softy that had been broken down by the villainous persona that had been built by cut scenes and misplaced wording. You’d rather go back in time to tell little Max that he wasn’t the big monster everyone said he was than win a world championship. But because time travel hasn’t been confirmed – yet, you’d stick with helping present Max and work toward your own championship.

You were ushered to a small changing room where your new race suit was hung up. Your fireproofs were neatly folded and were lying on the small bench. The shoes sat next to them. This year, the suits were a bit different. Max and you had voiced how much you liked the matte gold and navy look. Yes, the navy and red were the big staple colors of Red Bull, but you could do well with a little pizzaz.

So the design team listened and made the red a sub color. The lettering and stripes down the sides were gold. The bulls on the main logos were gold as well. Red lined the seams as well as being the main color for all the sponsorship logos.

The one thing that Max was happy about was that the hats stayed the same. He had too many from the year before to not be able to wear them. You didn’t see the appeal as you were more prone to hat hair than he was.

You put on the all navy fire proofs before stepping into the thicker race suit. You kept the outer layer on your hips as you sat down on the bench to lace your shoes. Standing up, you noticed a mirror. You walked over and just took a moment to look at yourself.

Possibly for once in your life, you liked the way you looked. The once dark circles under your eyes had finally gone away with some good sleep. Your hair looked more shiny and healthy and you had put on some good weight in the form of muscles that were needed to steer the car. Your trainer had put you through vigorous training, but it was all to help you prepare.

A knock on the door let you know that they were ready for you. Vito stood to the side with your 2024 helmet. You were known for switching your helmet almost every other race in Formula 2. Your argument was that you just had too many good ideas not to use them. To keep it simple, you went with a full navy helmet with gold logos to match the suits.

Some of the Red Bull team had mentioned that your helmet looked similar to Sebastian Vettel’s helmet. You only shot them a sly smile, basically telling them everything they needed to know. And it’s not like you didn’t know the German racer, quite the contrary. And did he give you his blessing to take inspiration from his glory days at Red Bull? The probability was huge.

But again, people really didn’t need to know that either.

All you knew was that the helmet matched to a tee, and it would be lucky to be used for more than 10 races. You had a list where you’d use special helmets. Vito was already on it with getting them ordered. You didn’t pay him to not order multiple custom helmets per year. He was already used to your antics.

You shook hands with multiple people before walking over to Max. You took your place next to him.

“So what’s the plan. I go left, you go right, and we leave with a giant explosion behind us? Taylor Swift Bad Blood style?”

Max wheezed through his nose, not expecting your full-proof plan.

From behind, Vito spoke up, “There will be no explosions. Here’s the plan. The producers talked to me and they actually want Y/n’s segment to go last as like a ‘surprise’.”

You interrupted him, “But people already know I’m driving.”

Vito sighed before continuing. “I know. It doesn’t make sense but they’re the bosses for today. So they want Max to hold your helmet, turn to the left and hand it off screen. Then the camera would cut to you ‘taking it,’ you’d look down, and then put it on.”

Your hands flew up. “So I don’t get to do the pose I rehearsed and Max doesn’t get to continue to look dead inside?”

Max looked at you and squinted. “You didn’t have a pose ready. You were just texting me and panicking that you didn’t have one.”

You only pouted after his confession.

Max went ahead and redid his segment. This time, he did manage to do a little smile, just because you were the one taking the helmet and you made a weird face at him.

The film techs said that the last take with the smile was the best one. And to Max’s chagrin, it would be the one to be used in the official video.

You were told to stand on the massive X in the middle of the background. You were looking around at all the lights as someone helped you fix your hair. You hadn’t done anything pretty with it because it wasn’t realistic. You had never curled your hair and done anything special with it on race day. People would always find your hair in a braid, bun, or a Founding Father’s ponytail. And today was no different.

You took a bit of time to actually make a nice braid that sat on your shoulder. Made you feel a bit like Katniss Everdeen.

Speaking of, you wanted to have a little bit of fun. Your nickname wasn’t Kid for a reason.

“And action.”

Your hand scrunched into three fingers that rose to your mouth for a kiss and then was lifted above your head.

“I volunteer as tribute!”

A couple of giggles filled the studio. Max and Vito were trying their best not to laugh out loud too much behind the camera.

“Cut! Let’s try it again!”

Your segment took about three more tries to get correctly. One of them, you accidentally dropped your helmet. Another, the helmet wouldn’t go on properly with your braid on your shoulder so you had to move it and undo it, so that you didn’t look like you didn’t have hair – the ponytail worked better. And then the third take was perfect.

Max had been the one to hand you the helmet off screen and you did the opposite that he had done. You started off with a small smile, before going cold faced when you put the helmet on. You tried not to giggle once the thing was one since it felt weird without the balaclava. But you managed to keep your shoulders still until the man yelled Cut once more.

You, thankfully, were allowed to now go change out of the hot suit. A Red Bull manager was the one to take the suit from you and hold on to it until preseason testing, which was going to be in a few weeks. You knew that when you said goodbye to Max as the place, it wouldn’t be too long until you would see him again.

Wasn’t like you were ten minutes away, or that you didn’t work together, or that you somehow had the same simulator testing times just to catch up on what you missed during the week. But during the last few weeks, you spent more time with Arthur.

He had called you in tears once he finally got confirmation that he was going to be out of Formula 2 and then cried once more when he had to leave the Ferrari Academy program. Your heart just ached and ached for him when you held him.

You remember when he finally opened up a few nights after.

You were bundled up in a giant blanket. He had come over to your apartment since Charles was staying with their mom for a few days while his apartment was being remodeled. Arthur’s head was tucked in your neck as a random movie played on the screen.

He had finally spoken up.

“You know. I really knew from the moment that I couldn’t continue karting all those years ago that racing just wasn’t for me. It never was.”

You looked down at his face that was stained with tears. “Thur, don’t say that.”

He only shrugged. “It’s true. If it wasn’t maybe Papa would have chosen for me to continue racing. And I know I begged Charles to be selfish, but maybe now I’m wishing I hadn’t.”

Your hands grabbed his face and made him look up at you.

“Please don’t say that. Please.”

By now, you had your own tears staining your face.

“Because if you weren’t in Formula 2 this year, I would have never met you.” You took a breath. “My best friend wouldn’t be my best friend without it.”

His eyes closed as he nodded little nods, almost as if he was having a hard time excepting what you called the truth.

“I just feel like I don’t have a purpose anymore. You and Charles have racing, Maman has her store, and Lorenzo has the business. I have nothing.”

Your arms wrapped around his figure. “We’ll find something and figure it out together. If anything, you can follow me to all my races.” You had a shit-eating grin on your face. A small laugh escaped his lips and you took that as a win.

“What, and be your WAG?”

You elbowed the Monegasque. “Sure. That’s exactly what I’m going for. I think I’ll have separation anxiety without you.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Or unless I find something else.”

“That’s all I ask. For you not to give up Thur. We’re in this new world together.”

Arthur, feeling bold, laced his hands with yours. You were thankful for the dark room so he couldn’t see your red cheeks.

“Together.”

And together is what you did for the remaining weeks. You and Arthur scoured every possibility he had to get back into racing. You reached out to many people – people who knew your godfather well and had helped you back with karting. You also reached out to many other people who normal fans didn’t know you knew.

On this list, which Arthur had a hard time believing, were people like Sebastian Vettel, Kimi Räikkönen, Jensen Button, and Nico Rosberg.

Arthur had tried to persuade you to not go to all your famous connections, but you were on a mission. He even threatened you that he wouldn’t take any offer since he didn’t want you to feel like he was using you. You only threatened him back when you told him that you wanted to do this and didn’t mid at you. You believe that you scared him since he never questioned you again.

It was the day before preseason testing in Bahrain before you got an offer, or actually two, back. Arthur, keeping his promise to follow you until he found something, came with you. He was under the guise of being with his brother for support, but most knew that he was actually there for you.

The first one came from a face time call from four time champion Sebastian Vettel.

“Kind, it’s good to see you!” Sebastian’s voice echoed in your hotel room. Your laptop was on the desk. You sat on the second bed while Arthur sat in the rollie chair. Before, the two of you had argued about who got what seat. You sadly lost the game of rock-paper-scissors and was banished to the bed.

“It’s good to see you too Seb! How are your kids?”

A squeal could be heard from behind his office door. Sebastian smiled at the sound of his children.

“They’re doing just fine. How are you doing Arthur? I know that losing a seat is hard but I was delighted to hear from Y/n when she told me that you weren’t giving up racing entirely.”

You shot Arthur a knowing grin as to say “see, you still have a spot in this world with me.”

Arthur spoke up, “Ah, yes sir. I was a bit discouraged. But she somehow convinced me to not give up.”

Sebastian clapped his hands. “Well I do have an offer for you. However, it wouldn’t be for this year and maybe not the next. There will be a lot of preparation but I know you could handle it.”

Arthur shot him a shy smile. “I’m down for anything at this point.”

“Well, I have been in the talks about endurance racing. And as you know, I am getting a bit older, but I still want to be involved. So I need to come up with a team. I would either be a driver or the team leader, I have yet to decide. But that means I need to start creating a team.”

The young Monegasque took a moment to bring everything in. “So you’re asking me to be on your future team. Even after all the mistakes I made in Formula 2?”

The German winced. “You are just like your brother. A bit too self-deprecating but we can work on that. Like I told Charles, don’t waste it. Don’t waste your talents away by not trying. We will have to do months and months of training as to get over making mistakes, but that’s also part of life. We just need to learn from them. So what do you say?”

The rest of the facetime call was filled with tears, smiles, cheers, and talks of sending over contracts to go over. You and Arthur were over the moon.

He might not be racing in 2024 or even 2025, but he’d be doing something.

Now, the next two offers came during media day when you had testing. Nico Rosberg and Jensen Button had apparently been looking for the two of you the entire day. Thankfully, it was just media and Max was the one to drive the new livery around for everyone to see. You just got to sit back and relax, well, as much as you could when you weren’t discussing data.

Nico and Jensen both cornered you when they had the chance.

“Good to see you again Brittany.” You shot Nico a smirk when you exchanged greetings. Arthur, polite as ever, shook both men’s hands.

You smiled at the two older men. “Now to what do we owe this pleasure of this fine Tuesday?”

The two former drivers looked at each other before they casted their gaze at Arthur.

Jensen spoke first. “We just want to preface about how terrible we feel about you losing your Formula 2 seat. It was your rookie year and you had some pretty bad luck.”

Your eyes rolled. “Way to rub salt in the wound Button.”

He shot you a glare, but Nico spoke next. “However, we have a solution. Y/n here told us about your taken offer from Sebastian. And we know that there are going to be weekends that you won’t have anything to do. So to save you from quote on quote from Miss L/n here ‘separation anxiety from missing your best friend’ we are offering you a type of paid internship at Sky Sports.”

Jensen cut in, “Obviously you would be helping either Nico or I depending on what weekend, but you’d be interviewing, commentating, or taking videos of drivers throughout the race time.”

Arthur had sparkles in his eyes, but you knew they were probably tears. With this offer, he’d be closer to you and his brother. You knew he didn’t want to be alone somewhere while you two were living his old dream. Well, it could still be his dream, but he told you time and time again that it was easier to put the Formula 1 dream in the past so that he could move on.

That day was also filled with smiles and contract talks.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday were filled with you in the new RB20. If the fans thought last year was a rocket ship, this one had to be some type of vehicle from a Sci-Fi movie cause you think it was even faster.

But, the Ferraris and McLarens were very close behind. The end of the weekend determined that Red Bull was still on top as you were able to take the fastest time out of the whole weekend, while you and Max did the most laps.

You were practically vibrating in the debrief meeting from excitement. What this year would hold, you didn’t know.

But you couldn’t wait to get started.

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 it's go time

liked by arthur_leclerc, sebastialvettel, box_box_express, and 65,294 others

y/n.nation babygirl's new helmet - I'm in love!

sebastianvettel I see you're coming for my spot as Red Bull's golden child

maxverstappen1 sorry that was me, I have taken the seat y/n.89 sit down max, there's a new golden child

box_box_express middle picture is slaying

y/n-on-top I mean she did graduate from the university of servington with a degree in cuntology and slay sciences y/n.89 PERIOD

arthur_leclerc photo creds would be nice...

y/n.89 sorry ThurThur - EVERYONE ARTHUR TOOK THE MIDDLE PICTURE JUST LETTING YOU KNOW landonorris ok then.

redbullracing rookie of the year right there

y/n.89 I'm the only rookie? but thanks admin :D

iamred_iamyellow everyone was so close with only a few seconds separating the top three

ferrari'slastchamp this year is our year the-bulls sure - you all say that EVERY YEAR

f1 only six more days! see you drivers in the paddock

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ithebookhoarder · 1 year

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En Garde (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Synopsis: Your husband has always been protective of you, given his line of work. However, when he offers to teach you the basics of self-defence, it quickly becomes clear that his intentions may not be quite so innocent after all...

Warnings: Mild reference to bodily harm, light smutty behaviour, spoilers for the second film.

A/N: Oh, how I’ve missed Enola Holmes. I loved the books, and the films are just as great in their own way, so expect a bit of spam for the next few weeks - apologies in advance.

Masterlist

“Now, try again-”

“-Sherlock-”

“No. Come on. Focus, darling. Once more, from the beginning. Eyes forward-”

Oh, that was it.

You were going to kill your husband. Slowly… and painfully… It would be the least he deserved, torturing you as he was.

“Call me ‘darling’ one more time, husband,” you warned dangerously, “and see if I don’t shove this sword in your direction.”

Why you agreed to this in the first place was beyond you, given that the day had so far been much more satisfying for him rather than you.

After all, it had been Sherlock’s idea to help teach you the basics of self-defence - throwing a punch, dodging one, along with the fundamentals for using weapons such as a pistol, club, and now a sword (although when he thought you’d be in such a position to use one, you weren’t sure).

Given his profession and the fact that his cases often lead to unplanned consequences, it had seemed a rather sensible idea at the start. His recent run in with the infamous Inspector Grail had rattled him, helpless to protect Enola everyone involved in the case from harm.

Luckily, they had all survived, if not a little worse for wear - most of which was down to your skilled hands, having sewn, cleaned, and bandaged each and every wound they presented you with following the confrontation.

You had seen the pain etched into Sherlock’s face that night, as you had helped wipe the blood from Enola’s head where she had been struck. He may have often denied having emotions, but the brotherly love and concern was all too clear to you as he seemed to blame himself somehow for failing to protect her.

So, now, Sherlock was determined to equip you with the tools you may need should a similar situation ever arise. It made it an easy yes, to agree to his tutelage in the hopes of soothing both his and your concerns. That, and dare you even say it sounded like fun?

Well, fun for you, yes, but evidently even more fun for your husband as it turned out.

Indeed, Sherlock was certainly a ‘hands-on’ kind of teacher and it had become clear early on that his focus was not entirely on developing your skills in combat. You didn’t have to be the detective to notice how his hands kept drifting to places they didn’t belong, or that his eyes seemed to be capitalising on the opportunity to observe your form in tight trousers as you lunged about the room.

And that wasn’t the worst of it - in fact, for the past half an hour, he had been standing behind you, his chest pressed to your back, one of his hands covering yours as it gripped the hilt of the sword - or the foil, as he had informed you.

As for the other, it was rather distracting, pressed against your stomach so as to allow your husband to correct your stance… or so he claimed, as he pulled you closer once again.

“That’s it,” you huffed, trying and failing to ignore the sudden shiver that ran down your spine as he ground against you. “You are certainly having too much fun. Perhaps I should have asked Enola or Edith to be my tutor instead. At least they can be trusted to remain professional.”

He scoffed, not sounding the least bit ashamed at the accusation.

“You wound me, wife,” he murmured, his lips grazing against your cheek, “After all, was it not you who said you didn’t wish to be a ‘maiden in need of rescuing’ should anyone wish you harm?”

“You know that I am neither a maiden, nor in need of rescuing, Mr Holmes.” Turning your head, you were quick to return the favour, letting your lips graze his teasingly. His soft groan was enough of a sign that your efforts appeared to be working.

Two could play this game.

“In fact, the only person I seem to need rescuing from right now is you, and your wandering hands.”

You felt his laughter shaking through him, making it hard not to laugh yourself as he began peppering kisses to your neck.

Clearly your lesson in swordplay would have to wait; it appeared he had a different kind of physical activity planned for you both.

#enola holmes #Enola Holmes 2 #sherlock #Sherlock holmes #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes x y/n #Henry Cavill sherlock holmes #masterlist #ithebookhoarder #thesilentmage #henry sherlock #henry cavill #Henry Cavill x Reader #enola holmes imagine #enola 2

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bitterchocoo · 4 months

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Shanti

Blade | M. Reader

----------

"I’ve got the perfect job for you, so come and follow me."

----------

Blade remembers the day he officially joined the Stellaron Hunters all too clear.

It was a day he could never forget.

"Oh? a new merchandise?"

The man said with his head slightly tilted. He looks at Blade with full interest in his eyes like someone eyeing an item at an auction, a "merchandise" he said.

The man welcomed him with open arms.

There never was an instance where he would lash out in frustration or annoyance. He always has a confident smile on his face, he never voices any of his negative emotions as if he's someone who's working in an industry. A customer service smile always plastered on his face. Day in day out.

After a few days, Blade would rather call him a merchant rather than a Stellaron Hunter. His behavior speaks for itself. He even speaks with merchants as if he's one of them and is sharing stories and advice he learned in his journey.

That got him wondering.

How could this "merchant" be a Stellaron Hunter? It confuses him to no end, someone so warm like that doing something like this? It's quite questionable. That is... Until he was partnered with the man on a mission.

That man... That once merchant-like man who always has a confident smile.. Shows his true colors...

He sees everyone and everything as nothing but items. He showed it repeatedly like how he said. "If it's alive, it’s a customer. If it's dead, it's merchandise."

He didn't even bother to call them with a more fitting word. He just straight up calls them "it." They're all nothing but customers and merchandise to him.

"No flaws, no waste, it’s a business of buying and selling." He said with a wide grin on his face. 'It's merely business. So no hard feelings right?' That's probably what crosses his mind every time he is given a mission by Elio. People are nothing but items in an auction to him as he raised the bid, it just goes to show how valuable you are to him as an item. The higher the bid.. the more valuable you are to him..

"Night in Aurum Alley never sleeps. It's all my turf!"

"So you’re selling blood, makes sense."

"Shut up and sit down. Punch them. Tie them up. Dismember them."

Such words are said with the sweetest and softest voice you'll ever hear, it's like honey, and you can't help but do what he says.

It works like a charm.

How could a man like this posses such a honey-like voice? Such a cursed man...

"Oh Bladie~"

"What."

[Name] only smiles at Blade's response, aside from Kafka, he is the only one that can call him "Bladie" and the man clearly took pride in it. "Oh nothing~" The man looks at Blade and eyed him up and down as he opens his mouth to say something Blade already cut him off. "No." "But I haven't say anything!"

Blade glances at the other as if he's silently judging him. "You've asked the question many times already."

"Which is?"

"Come work for me."

[Name] groans at Blade's response, that was so not him! He didn't just say it like that, who did he think he is? A barbarian? Where's all the other sweet honeyed words? "I did not say that."

"It's the point of it." "How harsh~"

Blade remain silent as [Name] continues to pester him. This is an everyday thing to him. If not for the fact that [Name] is a valuable member he might have killed him long ago.

----------

"Hello Mr. [Name], I see you got a new "merchandise"... is it---" "My apologies, but he's not for sale."

"He's a merchandise meant for me and me alone~ and I don't like customers who takes what's not theirs~ do anything funny and you'll be my next merchandise."

"Don't worry~ I heard a coat rack out of bones sells well in an auction~"

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr blade #blade x reader #blade x male reader

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writing-for-marvel · 7 months

Text

Day 10: Exhibitionism

Mob!Bucky's Kinktober Honeymoon

Mob!Bucky Barnes × Wife!Reader

Summary: Your new husband just can’t keep his hands off you, even out in public.

Warnings: strictly 18+, smut, tagging dub con to be safe as there is alcohol involved, but everything is consensual, public sex, thigh riding, slight daddy kink

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: this one was fun to write! Dividers by me, please do not use. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

💋 Join my Kinktober Taglist 💋

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library | Ko-fi

You’ve lost yourself in the music.

The bass rhythmically reverberates throughout the club, your body moves fluently through the sea of other hot bodies and notably, you can feel more than just Bucky's pairs of eyes on you.

Alcohol flows through your veins and makes the edges of your mind blurry, but when someone saddles up behind your dancing form, you instantly know for certain the person's presence behind you isn't that of your husbands.

Bucky wouldn’t stand so far from you - he’d have his hands securely on your hips, pressing your ass back into his pelvis and you’d feel his dick harden as you grind back into him, whispering in your ear how much you turn him on. Bucky isn’t shy when it comes to his attraction for you, yet it seems this person is.

As if on cue, you distinctly hear Bucky’s voice growl even though the loud music surrounds you from all directions.

“You touch her, you die.” You almost giggle in your tipsy state, loving how fiercely protective your husband is of you. You’ll forever be safe on his watch.

You turn around while still swaying to the music when the man scoffs, seemingly less than convinced purely by the words Bucky had chosen, but as soon as he swivels to face all 6’4 of severe mafia boss James Barnes, clearly defined muscles bulging in his white button down shirt and sleeves rolled up revealing the crime family insignia tattooed on the inside of his forearm, his face pales like he’s seen a ghost and he takes several steps back from you.

The man looks deathly scared and splutters out an inaudible apology underneath the pounding music as he looks between you and Bucky.

Bucky’s features are chiselled in forbidding seriousness, as if he truly does want to kill the man for daring to approach you while dancing. You know he’s more than capable of it too, but you’re also positive he would never break his promise of no work nor violence while on your honeymoon.

Your hand finds his cheek and directs his harsh gaze down to your face, his eyes softening and lips curving into a smile instantly when you come into view. All Bucky needs to do is snap his fingers and two bouncers come and practically carry the man from the club he owns. That’s him getting off lightly.

Soon enough you’re caught up in the music again, having completely forgotten about the man who approached you. Your arms are slung around Bucky’s neck and his hands follow the sway of your hips to the beat as you look up at him through your lashes.

“You’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind if you keep looking at me like that, darling.” Your husband says this, but if he really wanted you to stop looking at him he really should stop dressing in shirts that leave little to the imagination and having such pouty lips that are so incredibly kissable.

“You just look so sexy tonight, being all protective of your wife, Mr Barnes.” Your hands smooth down the tight fitting shirt, feeling his hardened pecs and every firm, sculpted abdominal muscle under the pads of your fingers.

“Well you’re mine, all mine.” His kiss is possessive and ardent. The way his large hands cup your face as he swipes his tongue into your mouth makes you moan and when bites your bottom lip as he pulls away from the kiss, you become putty in his hands. “And we’re going to show everyone else here exactly who you belong to so no one else gets any ideas.” His hand, which grasps yours as he strides to one of the leather couches at the back of the VIP room, glints with his wedding band.

It always makes you smile to see the physical symbol of his love for you on his person - an unbroken circle of his eternal love for you, a reminder of the devotion he pledged in his vows.

Bucky guides you onto his lap with a firm hand on your hip and a look of enamoured lust consuming his blown out pupils. You’re already soaking wet, just by the way he gazes at you, but the knowledge that everyone else in the club can observe him claiming you as his own adds to the arousal flooding out of you.

The way his fingers lightly trail down your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, the way he places delicate kisses to the underside of your jaw, moving down the side of your throat where your pulse beats rapidly just for him, and over the exposed skin of your breast makes it feel like your souls are irreparably intertwined.

When Bucky pulls back, looking at you with desire blown pupils, like you’re not only the sexiest woman in this club, but the sexiest woman he’s ever laid eyes on, you forget all about the pounding music and anyone else in the club - your world consists of just yourself and Bucky.

The hand which is not currently holding his glass of whiskey finds your hip, guiding you in fluid motions back and forth over his clothed thigh, the material providing a sweet friction against your bare pussy.

“Get all wet and messy for me, darling.” He doesn’t need to tell you, because you’re already there, but all you want is to satisfy his every command, so you nod your head and continue to move your hips in the way he’s shown you how, the way he knows will bring you the most pleasure.

Bucky flexes his thigh as you continue to rock your hips against him. You can feel the warm high surging within you right from the bottoms of your feet, through the base of your spine, and up your neck where you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue.

“That’s it baby, fuck yourself on daddy’s thigh, make yourself cum in front of all these people. Show them who you belong to.” It’s like you’re under his spell, there’s a part of your brain which is aware everyone in the VIP section of the club can see the lewd display you’re providing for them, perhaps some are even taking enjoyment out of watching it, but Bucky’s words overrule any other thought and all you want is to indulge him by giving into the building pleasure in your core as you grind against his leg.

The thumping music somewhat disguises the growling moan which rips through your throat as you cum. It feels like molten lava is flowing through your veins as the coil in your stomach snaps. Bucky’s protective hand remains securely on your hip, ensuring you ride out the waves of your pleasure until your growls become whimpers, begging to alleviate the burning pleasure flooding your body.

Bucky’s expensive pants have a distinct wet patch coating them when you step off his thigh, although he looks rather proud to be donning that accessory rather than embarrassed.

“That’s my good girl.” Bucky coos, swiping his thumb affectionately over the apple of your cheek and placing a gentle kiss to your parted lips. “Let’s go back to the villa. For this next part, the only eyes I want on you are mine.”

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dungeonpuppykai · 2 months

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|| Exotic ||

Description: You were The Duke of Suffolk's exotic little gift for devising the perfect plan that had led to the successful colonization of your homeland.

Disclaimer: I (unfortunately) do not own Charles Brandon. This story contains dark and mature content so please browse at your own discretion. Minors do not interact. Please DO NOT REPOST my work in any way and DO NOT USE MY IDEAS WITHOUT PERMISSION, thank you.

Pairing: Dark!Charles Brandon | Brown!Reader.

Warning(s): Noncon/dubcon, colonization, racism, age gap (reader is in her early 20's, Charles is in his late 40's), coercion, dacryphilia, p-in-v, boob play, virginity loss, d/s dynamics, power imbalance, misogyny, naive!reader, corruption kink, fingering, humiliation, degradation.

Note: I have clearly taken creative liberties. My stories are generally inclusive for all ethnicities and body types but in order for the plot to make sense, the reader has to be brown and preferably South Asian. Though you can still imagine yourself in it all the same. Also, English is not my first language and I haven't really watched the show so I apologize beforehand for the lack of use of the appropriate language that this piece requires.

MASTERLIST

"I WILL NOT HAVE HIS BASTARD BLUE EYED GHOULS!"

One of her many shouts burst through the crevices of the chambers that she had been forced into by the frustrated servants who were just as upset as the maiden by her relentless protest and fight. Charles sighed to himself as he took a sip of his drink, numbly watching the fire and waiting for his unwed young bride to be prepared for him.

He was the only one who could actually understand her, as she solely spoke her native tongue that he had learnt to ensure the preparation of a fail-proof plan with flawless execution. Infiltrate and occupy. To everyone else in his Estate, she was a wild savage with no sense of civility. One that the Master had taken a fancy to during his business expeditions in her homeland.

When his wisdom and cunning had added yet another colony to Henry's growing kingdom, the King was obligated to give his best friend the object of his attention as a gift. Charles' eyes that would follow her every time she was around the marketplace, naively going about her day with no knowledge of the coral eyes that observed her every move from afar had not gone unnoticed by the King.

"I do apologize in advance, Master" the head maid bowed after approaching his seat. "The girl has been prepared and placed in your chambers but she is bestial and restive. I do not recom–"

"That will be all, Mrs. Chapman, goodnight" the lady was mildly taken aback as she had gotten used to being the second in command ever since the Master's family had passed away from a devastating plague sometime over a decade ago.

The silence of the Estate had been his companion during his idle hours for years before this night.

And now there was her…

Charles sighed to himself as he lifted his heavy body out of his seat after putting down the glass and made his way to his feral little present that awaited him in his chambers.

His form silently moved through the shadows of the dimly lit halls as the man neared the enclosure he was planning to remain in for weeks at the very least. Undeniable anticipation and excitement began to course through his veins that had not felt this warm for ages now the closer he got to the heavy double doors.

Charles paused for a second before he entered, tuning her shrieking out and taking a moment to both calm his nerves and settle his composure. He was getting too old to tolerate the wailings of a child for long, but he did not want to ruin this for himself.

When the man was sure a few moments after that he was ready, he raised his head and entered.

It had been too long.

Much to his surprise, the shouting ceased at once and was replaced by quiet sniffling upon his appearing. He had been told that the years had granted him an intimidating mien but it was only now that he believed it when the girl's ear numbing protests turned into mere whimpers at his showing up.

A frown made its way on Charles' face when he turned away from the door after ensuring the security of its latches to finally face the girl. Because though she looked stunning -and Heavens, the sight before him was truly breathtaking-, he found her delicate, dusk-hued hands bound to the headboard of the bed with cloth pieces that matched the shade of her attire.

And oh, her attire…

Tan fingers decorated with scarlet henna that was deep in shade, hands sparkling with the jewelry that had been draped over them and locked in place at her wrists from below and around the base of her digits from top. The velvety caramel of her arms adorning red and gold glass bangles that jingled every time she mumly struggled against her cruel restraints that cut at her obviously pampered skin whenever she moved. Her face was half-covered with a dark red drape into which sparkling beads had been sown in the shapes of flowers. Her binds that held her arms captive and away at her sides caused her heavy chest to push out against the deep neckline of her crimson blouse, the mud coloured swells feverishly trembling every time she grunted and give a pull to her bruising wrists. The long skirt she had been made to wear below matched the color of the rest of her clothing articles, her fight having raised it up her hazel shaded ankles around which glittery jewelry similar to the hand pieces she wore were wrapped. Her toes that curled every now and then had been coloured the same scarlet shade as her fingers and the sheets contrasted her body in the most stunning way.

The King had really outdone himself with Charles' reward this time around.

The curve of her body was perfect and different to everything the older man had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. A familiar but much forgotten warmth spread over his chest and traveled down to his nether regions as he neared the girl.

"D- Don't come any closer!" A scared little maiden from a foreign land speaking in an inferior tongue was not to tell him what to do in his own house. "T- This is utter blasphemy! A girl is to only present herself like this to her husband on the night of their wedding! This is vile and most sinister!"

Charles sighed to himself before taking a seat next to her. Then he raised the drape from over her face and rested it above her head, only to reveal the most uniquely beautiful face he had ever seen in any land, the dark and thick curls that framed her features accentuating her beauty even more. "Then I suppose it is a good thing that you are my bride, is it not?" She did look the part.

Her big, almond shaped brown eyes that had been lined with kohl widened when he responded in her tongue. "N- Never!" Y/n tried to move away, her heavy nose ring that was being held up by a thin, gold chain on one side of her face bouncing every time she spoke with nervous agitation. "I- I would never wed one that bears likeness to corpses!" Now this was amusing to Charles. The man could not help the small smile that spread over his lips. "B- Better to die than lay with a blue eyed ghoul!"

Heat spread across his spine at her naivete.

Then he softly snorted. "In that case I am most regretful to inform you that these decisions are for the men to make, little one" she flinched her face away with a gasp when he went to caress her cheek with the coarse back of his hand. "Young maidens like yourself are much too simple minded to know what is right for them."

"It definitely is not becoming the slave of an old devil!" One of Charles' eyebrows raised at that.

One with a mouth.

Taming her would surely be an experience.

"Now that would be real blasphemy, letting such exquisite beauty go to waste by sending it into slavery" the girl was puzzled for a moment as she blinked up at him in confusion, unable to decide whether it was a compliment or an insult to her prior words. Perhaps both. Definitely a trap. The Duke took this time to lean towards one of her binds and reached for it. "Do you promise to behave yourself if I rid you of these?" He had heard the servants' complaints of her biting and kicking them.

The girl was at a loss of words as she warily watched his face for a hint, clearly struggling to understand his intentions. Charles bit his lip to suppress his smirk. He was not aware that he still had the charm that had had a renown of its own during the days of his youth.

"Hm?" Y/n's eyes traveled from him to where his hand hovered above the bind. Her bottom lip disappeared between her teeth and she sucked at it for a few moments before returning her gaze to his. The stubborn girl only nodded, not sparing him any more words than necessary, keeping a careful eye on his movements.

Not that there was much she could do against him.

Charles' fingers pulled the knot free and gathered her bruised wrist in them after it collapsed from its suspension. A gasp escaped the girl when he brought it to his lips and pressed a soft, ticklish kiss to the tender skin, lowering it only to reach for the other bind though caressing it with his thumb all the while.

A frown marred the girl's features as she rotated the wrists in their joints for relief, but only for a few moments. Before any words could be exchanged, her free hand that was not being pampered by the man's suspicious tenderness reached for one of the heavy pillows.

The Duke's jaw ticked as his eyes shut in forced composure, curls tossing astray when the pillow was hauled in his direction to serve as a device for escape. But alas. He was faster in judging and blocking the weapon with one firm hand.

Charles breathed through his nose to refrain from expressing his ire and bit back the surge of strength that tried to overpower him. The darkness grew within him as his realization of the sheer power he held in this moment coupled with her intoxicating scent drove him completely mad. A whine left the girl as she hissed, twisting her fragile wrist within his rough palm to try and break free from the bone crushing hold it had been held captive in during her attempt to flee.

"Now, where do we think we are going?" While it took Y/n all of her strength to try and push his arm away, the man easily hauled her body back in its previous spot before addressing her with a much unimpressed look.

"Home! I want to go home!" Tears glistened in her deep brown eyes as her chin wobbled, but she refused to give up her struggle. "You cannot keep me here, old devil! I shall protect my honor at all costs and I shall run away!"

The Duke could not help but let out a cold chuckle at that, keeping his firm hold on her all the same. "You are here on the King's orders, little one. Even if you manage -which you will not, let me assure you-, they will just bring you back here to me."

"Then I implore you let me go!" She was very obviously desperate. And he could feel his sick excitement increase. "Please, I do not wish to be here! I refuse to be desecrated at the hands of your likeness!" Charles had never been one to coerce or force; courtesy of his global popularity, but all this fight and pleading kept adding to the fire that was spreading within him.

It was then when he had to physically refrain himself from pouncing at her right then and there to strip her of all dignity and innocence, he realized that he wanted– nay, needed this girl under him at all costs.

And fast.

There was not a doubt that he wanted to break her. But the enjoyment he wished to take from it was not an instant one that would soon become tiring.

Rather, one which would only get better and more interesting by the day.

Seeping under her beautiful skin like a poison that scorches but is eternally inadequate to fully kill.

"No can do, you have been given to me by the King himself to keep and guard as I see fit" he couldn't resist the urge to caress the top of her hand with his thumb and gave in. "You are safe within the premises of the Estate and under my name. Though if you breach it…" Her throat gulped down a nervous bile as her cheeks elongated in horror and big eyes widened even more.

Good.

"I- If I breach it…?" Y/n couldn't help but edge on when a few moments passed in silence and the Duke refused to share more information.

Charles' shaky inhale was nerve-wracking as he willed a troubled expression onto his dark eyes. "You will surely be torn apart into hundreds of pieces before any measure of aid can even be attempted…" Her mouth fell open in shock at the revelation. "Word around here spreads fast, I hear…" He pretended to hesitate. "Everyone is curious whether it feels better or worse between the legs of an eastern woman…" She stopped her struggle, the jingle of her glass bangles dying down. "And if they also bleed red…" She suddenly shuffled closer, sniffling and nearly cowering into him.

There, there.

"M- My honor…!" Was all she could whimper after a few beats of haunting silence.

Charles sighed in a deliberately long breath, feigning sympathy as though he was not the sole reason of her being in her present circumstance. "Let me have it, and I shall protect it with my life" dipping his head forward, the Duke leaned in, the movement forcing a shaky gasp out of the girl. "I am afraid your only choices are that or who knows what at the hands of my landsmen–"

"I beseech you speak no more!" Shaky hands flew to cover her ears as she sobbed out loud at last, the movement causing the drape to move and reveal the heavy looking pendents that hung from her ears. Charles wondered if they would make the same sound as her bangles and anklets if he were to take her while she wore them.

The Duke bit his lip as he felt blood rush to his nether regions.

Oh, it truly had been a long time.

The feeling was nearly foreign.

Yet painfully inviting; welcoming.

"We are each our own devil, little one." He let go of her wrist, lowering his head as he went to move away. "I can see that you rather leave here, so I will–"

"N- No…" The girl slowly shook head at first and then resorted to vehemently doing it when he continued to turn away, stopping him by clinging to one of his arms before pulling his half risen body back down next to her. "Must not bring disgrace to grandfather's turban!" As they were a symbol of pride and honor in her culture.

Charles sighed in a commiserative manner. "I most sincerely wish there was a way I could help you" he could almost visualize her thought process as her furrowed eyebrows raised from their prior position.

"B- But you just said there was!" Now it was his turn to bring his eyebrows together although in faux confusion, unbeknownst to the girl.

"Did I?" When she desperately nodded with a spine-chilling eagerness that contrasted her prior abhorrence to his existence, Charles couldn't help but shift a little to try and relieve the growing ache between his legs.

"Y- Yes…" The Duke just had to crawl between her legs now.

"I am afraid I do not recall, sweet one" her tears only made the pressure that was ever-building worse.

"A- About… That… Just now…!" When Charles tilted his to the side in pretend puzzlement, she couldn't help but cry out in frustration. "A- About surrendering my honor to you to keep and protect!" His heart jumped at the way she said it, the thumping of the organ now matching that of his nether regions.

"But you did not seem to like the proposition t–"

"I like it! Please, I do!" She desperately squeezed his hand that she held in both of hers. "I agree! To all of it!" The girl had moved onto her knees. "Please, please guard me! I beg to be taken under your wing, Master, please!" Her heavy breasts jiggled against her blouse as she leaned towards him and pistoned her body up and down on her heels in a pleading manner. His eyes couldn't help but travel down to the inviting sight.

Heavens.

And to think that she was not even aware of just what she was doing.

Charles could not help but imagine her bouncing on something else entirely.

"Are you sure, little one?" The girl's nods were so eager she seemed more and more like just another bride by the passing second. "I do not–" mortified for her endangered honor, she bolted forward and pressed her lips to his, though for a while too brief for The Duke's liking.

In the blink of an eye, she was back in her spot on her knees, leaning back against the heels of her feet and looking down at her hands that still held his. "I- I am sure, M- Master…" A shaky breath escaped him at the way the word rolled off her tongue. "W- Want to be guarded and…" Her tongue darted out to swipe across her bottom lip while she mustered the strength required to utter the next words. "K-" she hesitated for a second now that she had somewhat calmed down. "Kept by you."

Charles could not help the triumphant smirk that spread across his still much handsome features. "If that truly is the case, then…" His free hand reached for her tear stained face as his index finger hooked under her chin to prop it up and closer to him. "Come here."

The girl's breaths were heavy as her palms grew a nervous cold against his, dampening the top of his hand with the clamminess that produced between them. Her shy eyelids fluttered along with her thick, curly lashes as she tried to look at him with their lowered position, the rise and fall of her chest increasing when Charles moved in until there was no proximity left between them.

The mass of hair lined along the edge of her eyes trembled when Charles' soft lips pressed against hers and his rather coarse mustache tickled the skin under her nose, causing her to squeeze his hand reactively and send another icy shiver down his spine. The Duke sighed against the warmth of her tender mouth, sensing that she was not really responding both due to the circumstance and lack of experience but the feeling was too thrilling for him to let go just yet.

Y/n whimpered when the man softly moaned into her mouth and tilted his head to further deepen the kiss, now moving the hand he had on her chin sideways along her jaw until he was cupping it to hold her face in place. The room filled with loud sounds of skin sucking against skin for short intervals and the girl soon found herself gasping for air.

"Down on your back, now" Charles growled and barely managed to hold back when she finally broke the kiss by softly biting down on his bottom lip to be allowed to breathe, the action only adding to his need in turn.

In a matter of a few moments, the unwilling girl was lying in The Duke's bed compliantly, cheeks flushed and eyes teary in contempt, yet legs parted in a welcoming manner as he pulled at the harnesses of his clothes while trying to triumph over his frantic breathing.

But there was only so much he could keep under control.

He could not recall the last time a pretty little thing had been presented for him like this, if ever.

And she looked so innocent, so sweet, so supple, submissive and small with her big, glassy kohl lined eyes full of fear.

The sound of the last of his garments hitting the ground was a loud thump in the deadly silent room as he silently marveled at just how vulnerable she really was.

Solely at this mercy.

The girl's jewelry jingled softly as she gasped under her breath and whipped her head in the other direction at the sight of the man; practically a stranger, yet devastatingly now the owner of her new life standing nude before her in all his glory.

Charles could not help the sick smirk that made its way on his face at the sight before he slowly mounted the bed like a serpent slithering towards its prey, movements silent and intentions vile. Y/n was forced whimper out a shaky breath when Charles crawled over her as she felt his very exposed body graze against her clothed one.

"Here, now." He placed one hand beside her head and used the other one to recenter her face to look up at him, palm unintentionally cupping her jaw as his thumb caressed the soft skin of her cheekbones. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, little one" her full chest touched against his each time she took another one of her exaggerated breaths, frozen in place as she looked up at him in horrified confusion.

Her deep brown eyes only widened more at what he did next when his hand left the side of her face to meet one of hers that lay limp at her sides. "Do you feel that, sweet girl?" Y/n's mouth fell open when Charles guided her trembling hand to his painfully hard sex organ and prompted her to touch it. "This is what you do to me…" His eyes traveled down her face and onto her much inviting spotless neck, descending down to the perfect curve of her swells that smoothed into a bump before coming back up to look into hers, "everytime, while fully clothed. I dare not imagine what I'd do if you were even half indecently clad" her face was hot with a deep blush.

Embarrassment, humiliation, shyness.

Charles moaned when she started moving her hand along his length, a petrified expression on her face as she grunted a little with having to reach so far down, though not daring to complain. "Good, good." He had had enough of the slow strokes, The Duke wanted something more fulfilling, faster, tighter, warmer if he did not want to end up bruised down there by the night's end. "Very good" his thick curls fell over his face when he dipped his head down to kiss her, a few strands of silver glinting in the dim light of his chambers as he pushed Y/n's arms above her head, the placing causing her swells to nearly fall out of her deep blouse.

When Charles pulled back to breathe, he cursed as he grinded against her before kissing her once more and then trailing his lips along her jawline, pecking every patch he touched. "Hmmm, keep them there" he referred to her arms, leaving them above her head and slowly bringing his own down by tracing the outlines of her body with them. "Tell me you'll keep your arms above your head for me because you're my good girl" his hands greedily groped her heavy chest, causing the girl to wince as her back arched in response to the foreign treatment, her neck craning to one side as Charles sucked and lapped at the tender skin his mouth was latched onto.

"I- I… ah!" Her eyes fluttered close and clenched when he suddenly bit down on the junction between her shoulder and neck before tracing his tongue over the sore area to cool the pang, hands squeezing her soft hips at the same time. "I w- will keep my arms a- above my head for you because I am your g- good girl… M- Master" fuck.

There was a bewitching way about the way that name rolled off her tongue.

Charles could swear stars appeared in his vision as the pressure between his legs increased.

"Heavens, little one!" The Duke grunted as he snatched the fabric of her skirt upwards and away from her priorly covered legs, the overwhelmed man unable to hold back anymore as he moved to her swells now that he had left some satisfying marks of his passion along the width of her neck. "Where have you been all this time?"

Happy and safe at home with my family. A tear trickled down the side of Y/n's face as she shivered when his nude leg brushed against hers that was just as exposed as his now, the contact evoking a strange feeling within her. Goosebumps appeared on her skin and the hair on the back of her neck rose as Charles' lips hovered above the pulpy skin, the golden brown bristles of his beard scraping against its feathery softness.

"Hm?" Charles growled when she gave no response but then chuckled as he ran his tongue along the narrow valley of the cushions on her chest. "Silly little thing doesn't know what to say now, does she?" A shaky breath escaped him as the coarse back of his hand rubbed against her tender thighs that he had finally managed to expose by pushing the skirt all the way up to her waist. Y/n's eyes widened and she jumped up against his face with a start when his impatient hand snatched at the neckline of her blouse and pulled at the fabric until it separated from the rest of the cloth and tore off in a big piece. But before the girl could voice her shock, Charles beat her to it. "Tell me you've been obediently waiting on your Master, me, all this time" his demand was husky and harsh against her breasts that he was taking his time tasting and biting, the softness making him moan.

The girl gulped as she blinked through her teary vision, biting her lip in concentration and snaking her fingers around the bars of the headboard to keep them there like she had been ordered to. The last thing she could afford right now was to anger The Duke who was becoming less and less of a man by the passing second, every single little thing about him turning primal and beastly.

"I- I have been obediently–" the sickening words burnt on her tongue for she must have been a cradled babe when the man on top of her was in the prime of his youth. "Been… B–" her throat was parched as her tongue ran over her dry lips every now and then to create a semblance of hydration.

"Go ahead, sweet girl" Charles had begun rocking against her already, rubbing his curled length between his stomach and the top of her caramel thigh, the contrasts of their skins only adding to his pleasure. "You're doing so well for me" the slurp of his mouth against one of her hardened nipples overshadowed the sound of him ripping her underclothes away.

Y/n tried to close her legs, utterly uncomfortable and much too exposed as she felt herself getting thirstier than before, the strange surge of waves that his indecent touches and lewd words were causing in the base of her stomach tightening into a ball each time he squeezed her somewhere or dug his teeth into the soft cushions of her breasts, razorlike canines stinging against her plush swells.

"I- I have been obediently w- waiting on m- my Master, you, all this time..." Her back arched with another start when Charles' fingers dipped between her nude legs and touched the most private part on her body, the feeling of the soft, warm and moist bumpy flesh causing him to moan so loud against the breast that he was sucking at now after having marked its companion to his liking.

"Heavens…!" Was all the older man could gasp out as he let his fingers glide free over her folds and squishy petals to both get a feel of them and memorize every little detail possible. "You're wet, God–" his smug smile was so deep that his dimples appeared and he had to peek between his curls that fell over his eyes when he looked up at her. "You are not even aware of it, are you?" The girl had no idea what he meant indeed. "Oh, you sweet little dirty girl" as he attacked her lips with his desperate mouth, his free hand flew to restrain both of hers back above her head when the tip of his finger prodded at her tiny slit and the girl gasped, unaware of its existence altogether.

"Nuh, uh, little girl" Charles tutted between hot, breathy, wet and sloppy kisses, the red color that had been painted on the girl's lips now an increasing mess around both their mouths. "Good girls keep their arms up and eyes down under their Masters" he let go only to reach for one of her ear pendents and hurriedly felt it with his thumb before ducking down to push his tongue in her mouth to explore the tight enclosure, stifling the gasp she let out when he finally sheathed the finger he had been stroking her with inside her hot cavern. "Do you understand?" He was breathless when he pulled back momentarily to moan at the feeling of her stiff opening clenching around his digit. "Tell me you understand."

The girl struggled to breathe under his beast-like countenance, accidentally biting down on his lip albeit only to make him moan harder when he started to move his finger in the vertical fashion it was meant to be stimulated in. "I- I…" The pain, the buzzing excitement increasing in the pit of her stomach, the strange feeling which was starting to overpower the initial ache of the intimate intrusion as well as the way Charles was basically chewing away everywhere he could reach her with his mouth with such urgency that it seemed as though she was on the verge of disappearing and would do so any second.

"Please, go ahead" the tenderness in his desperate plea surprised both of them as Charles worked her open for his leaking cock that held a renown for splitting open tight little cunts. "You sound so sweet when you do" his free hand now explored her ear by grazing the fingertips along the crevices of the helix and cartilage, some places pierced with small and shiny studs with expensive stones in them, other spots having gold earrings hanging from them.

The Duke decided she was more extraordinary than everything he had ever seen in terms of beauty.

Perhaps to a point where it shifted to the realm of the sublime.

Immeasurably superior.

Feeling the buzz in her cunt get stronger when he added another finger to her warm enclosure of soaking flesh, the girl threw her head back and whined when Charles enveloped one of her sore nipples between his lips again. "I- I understand, Master." And that was it.

It had to be now.

The man tore himself away from her by sheer willpower for his chest wished not to be parted with hers much softer and inviting one, hard arms snaking under and around her back to reunite their contrasting skins as Charles' cock slipped into place against her opening as though it had been made only to do that.

"It will hurt a little," lifting her off the bed, he moved onto his knees to move better as he readied himself to sink his cock deep within her. "But then it will feel so good you will beg me to keep you in this bed for days on end" the confused girl did not want to agree but her stimulated body was betraying her in ways more than one. "Just trust me…" His features twitched when he finally lowered his hips and her somewhat prepared entrance allowed the tip to violate the hot cavern, the feeling overwhelming him into groaning aloud and for the girl to reach for his broad shoulders to sink her nails in, eyes and mouth widening alike.

Was it even supposed to be put in there?

She knew something happened behind the closed doors of a married pair for the fulfillment of marital duties and to create children but… this?

Y/n did not know so she was not sure but as Charles started to move his hips, guiding her body with the arms he had around it to accommodate his soft thrusts, she wondered why the queer heart-upsetting feeling that made her somewhat nauseous felt a very unusual kind of… good at the same time amidst of everything.

The girl could not recognize the feeling as pleasure just yet for she was yet to experience the end and get addicted to it like all did, but sweat broke out on her temples when she realized that she wanted him to go on, move faster, make the pain disappear and rub her in that way again to unravel the mysteries of this mysterious ball that was growing tighter and more suffocating by the passing second.

"I am the biggest cock you've ever had, huh little one?" Her cheeks were flushed as she frowned in pain, mouth agape. "Say it" his demands were primal growls as he felt himself twitch inside her, one hand coming to pat her cheek condescendingly to get her to listen better. "Tell me I am the biggest cock you've ever had" the burn of her nails was too good against his hard shoulders.

"Y- You are the biggest cock I h- have ever had, Master" Y/n's voice broke as she blinked away tears and stars, unaware of the meaning of her own words.

"That is correct" he groaned as though in pain, tugging his cock out of her before pushing it back in again. "I am the biggest cock you have ever had. The only cock you had ever had" the man was breathless against her. "The only one you will ever have. You're all mine" the promise was sealed with a furious kiss.

"P- Please…" For what, she knew not. But her head craned back as she jutted her chest out towards him to treat again the way he had been doing for the past few minutes, the marks that he had left on her skin hot and territorial.

"What is it, sweet girl?" Charles husked as one of Y/n's hands moved to brush the mop of his curls away to get a better look at his blue eyes. So remarkably handsome. Her eyebrows furrowed as the sheer manliness of his aged face brought an indescribable shiver down her spine and made her clench around him, causing the man to grunt in pleasure as his hips started to speed up.

"H- Hurts but feels so… so…" Charles smirked as he panted, struggling to move within her narrow passage of flesh. "D- Don't know but– oh," one of his hands dipped between her legs and the result was the most obscene sound she had ever made and he had ever heard. The genuineness of pure surprise and pleasure made The Duke's head spin. "Master!"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, my sweet" Charles spoke through a mouthful of one of her dark brown nipples, slurping at it and his own spit as he went. "Just trust Master and lay back, he will take care of you" her toes curled as she let out the same sensual sound again, arching her back and going limp momentarily due to the shock of whatever her body was suddenly subjected to.

"I was made to protect you, only in death will I be kept from this oath" Charles whispered in her ear after moving to it, pressing kisses to it as well as her cheek to fuck out her orgasm to the best of his ability. It had been a while but that did not mean he had forgotten any of his infamous tricks. Y/n could only blink away the stars that appeared in her darkened vision as she barely made out his promise over the ringing of her ears coupled with the thumping of her heart.

Was it a good thing?

What could be done if it was not?

Though as Charles grunted before she felt something warm and wet fill her cavern, the man reuniting his arms around her waist to piston into her harder and deeper than he had done in the past few minutes, she felt a sense of permanency wash over her.

Something broken forever.

An angel completely tainted.

A cage eternally chained.

The rosy pink mix of dissolved purity and unholy discharge below their conjoined bodies was a testament to the fact.

Tagging 🩷: @warriormirkwood @secretdream2 @hangmanscoming

#charles brandon x reader #charles brandon smut #charles brandon #charles brandon fanfiction #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill superman #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x female reader

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mayfieldss · 14 days

Text

Messy - Anthony Bridgerton

Synopsis: What was supposed to go as a smooth business meeting ends rather the opposite, thanks to Anthony's great distraction; you.

Content Warnings: written at 1am and not proofread. Proceed at your own risk.

Anthony was trying his best to be a gentleman. He prided himself on just that, after all, and would be mortified to be seen as anything else. That is why, when things got particularly disastrous, Anthony could not stop the apologies spilling from his lips.

The day had begun simple enough. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, matching the theme of the Bridgerton household without fail, and the sun peeked through thin clouds enough to cast its warmth in a comfortable manner. Your family had been set to meet with the Bridgerton's at noon, a business deal that would hopefully provide wealth and further status to both families alike. And when you'd arrived, carriage and horses pulling to a stop on the gravel, nothing had been amiss. In fact, everyone involved had been more than confident in the speed at which the deal could be made. There was much to discuss, yes, but without interruption, time would pass quickly, and you'd be home before you knew it. And yet, that wasn't the way things occurred.

Anthony takes the blame himself, for if he had kept focused perhaps nothing would have gone awry. But when his eyes landed on you, stepping down from the carriage with the help of your older brother's hand, he was stuck. It was as though his gaze was caught on you, like a thread hooked upon a nail, and he couldn't cut himself loose.

"Lord Bridgerton," your greeting was lost, as were everyone else's as his ears roared with shame. He was flustered, it seemed, and you had done nothing yet to cause it.

He sent you a smile, welcomed you, and your family, to the estate, trying wholeheartedly to snap himself from this trance. And for a while he thought to have succeeded.

Inside his home, everyone sat in the living room, and across from Anthony sat your oldest brother, in the place of your father who Anthony could only assume would not be joining you. Perhaps the man had passed like his own parent, or maybe some other reason was behind it. But Anthony had no troubles with a man closer to his age, and he was more than ready to converse in the gentlemanly manner he had trained himself to default to. You sat near Anthony's mother, discussing the rose gardens and other rather lady-like things, but there was something about your posture that told Anthony you could not care less about the flowers outside the large windows.

You held a pleasing smile, and to any passer by you might appear interested in such a topic, but to Anthony you were anything but convincing. Your eyes were distant from the conversation, and your hands were occupied fiddling with the folds of your dress. You were nodding along, with nothing much to say other than compliments toward his mothers gardeners. He was an actor himself at times, in fact this business deal required an almost theatre like performance to sell, and he could see his own tactics as well as some his siblings strategies coming through in you.

"Lord Bridgerton," This time, his title did not come from you, but rather your brother, whom Anthony had been unknowingly ignoring in favour of examining your actions.

Anthony clears his throat, and he can feel the heat rising up his neck underneath his collar. "Yes, sorry, go on." He doesn't have a clue what the man before him had been saying previously, and even as the conversation continues he is hardly listening. He's scolding himself internally, trying to keep it together.

He's able to hold focus on the matters at hand for awhile after that, and everything seemed to be running smooth enough—until the tea arrived.

Mrs Wilson had meant no harm when she entered the room, and in truth, none of the following events had been her fault. She was simply a housekeeper, and Anthony should have been paying more attention. He was attentive to some things, the way you moved included. The smile you sent Mrs Wilson when she offered you tea, and the way strands of your hair fell forward into your vision at the nod of your head made him want to get up and cross the room to you. It made him want to brush them back and touch the skin that he could see. He wanted to speak with you then, he realized, and had he held any sense, he would have pushed the idea back into the depths of his mind. In a pause of conversation between you brother, Anthony decides to stand and cross the room, to where you and his mother reside. Your own mother sits beside you, bewildered at his sudden approach, and yet it doesn't occur to him that this could go wrong.

"Let me, Mrs Wilson." Anthony doesn't know why he takes the teapot from the housekeeper, nor does he understand why he finds himself pouring tea for the set of women before him. But the way your eyes run over him, the upturn of your lips to his actions makes it all worth it. Of course, until it all goes wrong. Again.

"Anthony, the tea!" his mothers voice rings in his ears, and when he looks back toward the teacups his eyes widen. He's overfilling the cup you hold as she speaks, and the hot liquid spills onto your hands. You yelp in surprise, seemingly not having noticed his mistake until you felt the burn, and drop your cup abruptly. The sound of it shattering is sharp, echoing along with Anthony's embarrassment.

"My apologies Miss L/N, I did not intend to—are you okay?" he watches as you scramble to your feet, trying your best to avoid the other splashes of the hot tea, and the shards of the cup upon the floor.

"No, I am sorry Lord Bridgerton," Your eyes move quickly between the broken teacup and your dress, now stained. He can see embarrassment in your own movements, and can feel it in his.

"I was the one at fault, Miss. Please allow me to apologize," Anthony had not realized how close he had come to you until this moment, his eyes scanning over your figure trying to find any way he could help. But it struck him suddenly to know that he had taken your hands in his own. He had been checking for burns from the tea, but now the feeling of your skin on his brought heat to his cheeks.

He drops your hands abruptly, casting his gaze to your brother, who stands disapprovingly to his left. "I am sorry again," Anthony takes a step back, though now your eyes have met with his, and he can see something in him that suggests he might not be the only one flustered by the encounter. "Are you harmed at all? Did you need assistance, perhaps by one of the maids, or a doctor?" he can still feel the weight of your fingers held in his own, even now as space lies between you.

"I am okay, my Lord, though I am rather embarrassed." the way your eyes sparkle seems just for him, and when you shift your gaze towards the maids, now cleaning up the mess from moments before, he watches the small and bashful smile you once held fall.

"My apologies, I should have been more careful." You say to the maids and all others in the room, though Anthony is shaking his head before the full sentence can even dare to leave you.

"It was me who was careless. You are not at fault." he places a hand over his heart, once again ignoring all other surroundings in favor of absorbing you. "I am sorry if I caused you any pain, and given the chance, I would love to provide funds for a new dress to replace the one my incautious behavior has ruined." his words cause a small, almost inaudible gasp from his mother, though he can see her expression in his peripheral. He will not hear the end of this for a while, he thinks. Once word got out amongst his siblings that he had found a soft spot for a woman he hardly knew, enough to pay for new garments, he would be endlessly teased. And yet he didn't care. Because the look on your face, one of shock, and fascination made him feel important.

That however, was the moment where your brother cleared his throat. Breaking through whatever connection Anthony had made with you.

"Are we to continue with business, Bridgerton?" He sounds irritated, and it's clear he can see exactly how the viscount is feeling. It's not hard to notice by now that Anthony's gaze is hardly able to break from you for a second.

"Yes, of course." Anthony is still looking at you when he says it, and only when a hand is placed on his arm, his mother's, pushing him back toward his seat, does he break free of the spell you so effortlessly place.

A few weeks later and the carpet has been cleaned, no stain has been left from the tea, and the teacup broken has long been replaced. The Bridgerton estate is bustling with noise, its latest ball bringing the entire ton and more to the premises. As Anthony's eyes scan the room, cautious of making any wrong moves, as usual, his heart wanders, leaving him behind. You stand with a drink delicately in hand, ivory gloved fingers with a gentle grasp upon the glass. Anthony, once again, can not look away.

When you finally meet his eyes, he is unable to stop himself, moving through the ballroom swiftly, even as many others try to stop him for conversation. The other women of the ton pause their own movements in the hopes the viscount may be coming to speak with them, and with each lady is passes, disappointment, and envy fill the room.

"Miss L/N." He greets you with a smile, partly because he can't help himself at the sight of you.

"Lord Bridgerton." you attempt a short bow, one that is barely there at all, but he doesn't mind. Somehow he knows you're teasing him. Testing him perhaps, in the way you smirk.

"I am pleased to see you again. You look wonderful tonight." his usual flattery makes you scoff, partly in shock, though there is humor there too. It is not at all lady-like, nor what your mother trained of you, but Anthony finds a thrill in the behavior, as inappropriate as it may be.

"Do you not believe me?" he asks, watching as you take a sip of your drink. You do it almost to fill the gap between his speech, and it seems practiced. As if you have done the same to pause conversation between many men before him.

"No, I do believe you my lord. I am aware of my appearance. Though I should thank you, for this dress is the one you paid for."

"It seems to me that it was money well spent." Anthony is a gentleman, though he can picture himself with his hands tangled in the dress you wear tonight. Knowing that he was the one to gift it to you somehow makes his feelings grow stronger.

"It does seem so." There's a quiet between you after your words, partly because he can not think of anything more to say, and you laugh in the space of the silence. A gentle sound, not loud enough for many other than him to hear, but the grin that accompanies it is what makes Anthony's stomach flip. It's something he had never predicted occurring within himself, and yet, now he can feel it.

"Would you like to dance?" he asks, and somehow he knows you'll say yes, if only to continue the tension between you. You nod at first, handing off your glass to a passing waiter, before taking his hand.

"I would love to."

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honeypiehotchner · 1 year

Text

gold star (Hotch x Teacher!Reader) -- one shot

Been working on this one for a hot minute oops. Just wanted to say thank y’all for being patient with me always (and we literally hit 5.7k followers even while I’ve been so inactive???? what????). Here’s a longgg dose of fluffy angst <33

Edit: I’m a dumbass and queued this for the wrong day

Summary: You’re Jack’s teacher and Aaron is basically your nemesis. Until he’s not. (Kinda enemies to lovers?)

Warnings: angst! talks of parent death, therapy, bad parenting/emotional neglect, y’know the works. Lots of fluff tho to make up for it. And a happy ending!

WC: ...5.7k-ish

I love my job. I love my job. If you say it enough, you’ll believe it. I love my job. You glance at the clock and see your next parent is late. I love my job.

You do love your job, you really do. What you hate are parent-teacher conferences that you’re required to do. Especially when the parent is late. After having to reschedule at the last minute. Twice.

If you didn’t have a genuine concern to discuss with Jack’s father, then you wouldn’t be here still. But alas, you care for Jack more than your annoyance at his father.

Jack Hotchner is a sweet kid. Genuinely wonderful. After his mom’s sudden death a few years ago, everyone worried about him. You’re friends with Julia, who was his kindergarten teacher just a few months after it occurred. Despite being a teacher for almost a decade that year, Julia had never encountered this situation, so she looked to you for help. You lost your mom when you were in first grade, so you were able to give her more helpful tips that actually work.

Now, you have the pleasure of having Jack in your second grade classroom and he truly is an amazing student. You only wish you could share this information with his father who seems to be on another plane of existence every goddamn--

A knock on your classroom door frame makes you jump.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron Hotchner rushes out, quickly dropping his hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, standing up from your desk chair, putting on a smile. “Come on in.”

“Thanks, and please, it’s Aaron,” he smiles sheepishly, walking over. He towers over the tiny desks as he maneuvers past them to yours. He sticks out his hand for you to shake. He has a firm grip, but his hands are soft. “I’m sorry I’m so late. I got caught up at work--”

“I figured,” you reply, sitting back down. You pull up your laptop and begin typing in your password. “Unfortunately, I’ll have to make this quick. I should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Oh, sorry, am I that late?” he flicks his arm to look at his watch. He sighs. “I apologize.”

You hum. “Our conference was scheduled for 4:15.” You glance down at the clock on your screen. “It’s almost six.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. “Would it be better to reschedule?”

“Nope,” you shake your head. “You’re already here.” And if you reschedule, then this might happen again, so you’d rather do this now while you’ve got him here. “Fortunately, Jack is doing really well. He’s struggling a little with math, but he’s not the only one, and we’re working on it. He’s made a few friends, I know we discussed that last time. He’s breaking out of his shell, I think.”

“That’s good,” Aaron says, smiling a little. “That’s really good to hear.”

“Is he doing any extracurriculars?” you ask. Last time, when you voiced your concerns to Aaron about his son being a little too quiet and shy, you suggested asking if he’d like to do a sport, or play an instrument.

“He’s doing soccer,” Aaron says.

Your eyes widen. “Oh!”

“You look surprised,” he presses.

“I guess I didn’t expect Jack to…want to do a sport,” you shrug, checking your notes for the conference to stall.

What you really wanted to say is that you didn’t expect Aaron to listen to you. Given his track record, it seemed highly unlikely that he’d follow through and actually ask his son about trying a sport, let alone go through with signing him up for one.

“Do you have any questions for me?” you ask, closing your laptop lid. Aaron has been studying your face in this lull of silence, and it’s unnerving.

“I don’t think so,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you nod, not surprised. “I did have one more thing. I know I said Jack is breaking out of his shell, and he is, but he seems…down. Is something going on at home?”

Aaron sighs. “It’s getting closer to the anniversary of his mom’s death.”

That tugs on your heart. “Oh, I see. Alright.” You pause. “Uh-- If you don’t mind me asking, is he seeing a counselor or a therapist or anything?”

“He’s not, not currently,” Aaron says.

You blink. You shouldn’t really be surprised, but you are. “Has he at all since his mom’s death?”

“Briefly, right after she died.”

“Okay.” You clear your throat. You cannot yell at a parent. That’s unprofessional. “I know it’s not my place, but I’d highly suggest finding him someone. Especially right now as the anniversary is getting closer, and as Jack gets older. I would suggest our school counselor, but I think Jack would do better with someone better equipped for his situation.”

Aaron stares at you, nodding slowly. “Alright.”

You lean over and open a drawer, grabbing the handout specifically for times like these. Given the area the school is in, parents are typically able to pay for services like these, and are more willing. You know it’s because they don’t have the time to deal with their children’s emotions, so they pawn them off on someone else, and claim it as a good deed.

In a way, you’re grateful the children are able to receive help that you didn’t because your dad couldn’t afford it. You just wish the kids also received support from their family, not just from doctors.

“Here’s a list of great pediatric psychiatrists and therapists in the area.” You hand Aaron the packet and he takes it gently, his expression unreadable. Parents are always so weirdly defensive about this. “Many of our students see someone from that list, so I trust that one will be a good fit for Jack. If you want some help narrowing it down, I can help.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly. “I’ll look into this.”

I hope so, you want to say, but he doesn’t sound too sincere. “Okay,” you smile softly instead. “That’s all I have, unless you have any other questions?”

He shakes his head. “No, I think-- I think this is good.”

“Alright, well,” you pause, opening Jack’s folder. “I just need you to sign here, so the school knows we met.” You slide the form and a pen across the table.

Aaron signs swiftly, a signature born from frequent piles of paperwork. You know he does something in the government, you’re just not sure what. Nearly every parent here works in the government, though, so that’s not a remarkable conclusion to have made.

“Thank you,” you say, taking the signed form and sliding it back into Jack’s folder. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too,” Aaron says, standing up to shake your hand again. He’s so formal, you almost forget. He clutches the packet in his free hand, and you wonder if it’ll end up in the recycling bin at the end of the hall.

After shaking your hand, Aaron apologizes again for his tardiness, and then leaves your classroom. The clock on the wall says it’s just past six. A record for one of the latest nights you’ve been here.

Gathering your things, you do some last minute checks around the classroom before heading out, locking the door behind you.

As you reach the exit doors at the end of the hall, you peer into the trash and recycling bins. Both are empty, no signs of your pediatric psychiatrists packet.

At least that’s a win.

+++

A month or so later, you’re waking up early to go to a soccer game. If it weren’t for your kids asking you (loudly and enthusiastically) to come to their game, then you wouldn’t be awake right now on a Saturday.

Julia, at least, is coming with you, and so is Kate, a fellow second grade teacher whose classroom is across from yours. Julia is coming to see Jack, and Kate also has a few students who asked her to come.

The three of you stop for coffee before going to the park where the soccer games are held. Walking across the field, you find an empty space on the bleachers and sit down, looking around for your kiddos.

To your complete and utter surprise, you spot Aaron Hotchner -- of all parents.

You quickly avert your eyes, looking around some more. You haven’t seen or spoken to Aaron since the parent-teacher conference as Jack is usually picked up and dropped off by his Aunt Jessica. Jack has seemed a little more present and happy, but you have no idea if that means that Aaron actually sought help for his son.

Even more embarrassing, you’ve worried about your job since that conference. It’s always a gamble, offering parents advice. You never know what will cross a line and equal an angry phone call to the principal followed by a swift withdrawal of their child from your class. Not every parent has always been so keen on your attention to your students’ emotional wellbeing.

“Don’t look, but one of the dads cannot keep his eyes off of you,” Julia whispers.

“Which one?” Kate asks, then she spots him. “Oh, him-- He’s tall. Wait, is he…?”

You glance over and sure enough, the one in question is Aaron. He can’t tell that you’ve looked at him, though, thanks to your sunglasses. “That’s Jack’s dad,” you say, looking away again.

“I knew he looked familiar,” Julia murmurs. “I’m not used to him out of the suit. His hair is longer too, isn’t it?”

“Why would I know?” you counter, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Is he the one you mouthed off to?” Kate asks, nudging your arm.

You scoff defensively, “I didn’t mouth off--”

“She told him to put his son in therapy,” Julia explains with a prideful smirk. “Rightfully so, too. I would’ve done the same if I ever saw him.”

“Damn,” Kate chuckles. “Let’s hope that he took your advice.”

“And that he isn’t pissed at me for it,” you mutter. “I haven’t heard anything since.”

Kate and Julia share a look before Julia says, “He’s definitely not mad.”

Finally, you give yourself the chance to look over at him, and to let him see you looking.

You’ll admit, it is weird seeing him out of the suit, let alone in short sleeves. You’ve never seen his arms. They’re…nice. Muscular, more than you expected. Not that you’ve wondered about his arms, though. Or any part of him. Because he’s Jack’s dad, so you should not be thinking about him this way.

Still, you indulge, just for this moment. He keeps your eyes only for a minute before his attention is drawn elsewhere to the screaming kids practicing their warmups (if that’s what those can be called). He’s smiling from ear to ear, something you’ve never seen. The tiny smiles you managed out of him during conferences hardly ever looked genuine. This, though, this one is.

“You should talk to him,” Julia whispers, nearly scaring you shitless. You completely forgot where you were for a minute.

“No,” you shake your head, tearing your eyes away. “That’s practically asking for him to yell at me.”

“He won’t do that,” Julia chides.

“Well, I don’t know,” Kate grimaces. “Parents are finicky. I got yelled at last year by one who I thought was the sweetest ever. Until her kid didn’t pass a science test.”

“See?” you say, gesturing to Kate. “We have no idea what he’ll be like.”

“Besides that he’s looking at you again,” Julia says. “So he’s clearly interested in talking to you.”

“Then he can walk over here himself.”

Julia raises her eyebrows, shrugging. “Be careful what you wish for.”

You roll your eyes. Aaron is too busy with the kids and their game is about to start, so there’s no way he’ll walk over. Even if you speak after, Jack will be with him, so nothing will be said. It’s fine.

+++

Aaron’s mouth is dry. He feels like he forgot how to breathe properly.

He didn’t know you’d be here, and here you are. Beautiful. Except he shouldn’t think that, because you’re his son’s teacher. It’s inappropriate. But the way the sun hits your skin…beautiful. You’re beautiful.

He needs to focus. He’s supposed to be coaching the kids, not gawking at a teacher like some idiot.

To make matters worse, Rossi notices, and only silently raises his eyebrows.

Aaron told Rossi about your parent-teacher conference, and how he should’ve put Jack in therapy sooner -- along with himself. Rossi asked him if he thanked you for your advice, but Aaron never found the right time. He half-heartedly thanked you at the conference, but it wasn’t as genuine as it should’ve been.

He meant to call you, or send an email, but he never did. Truthfully, he’s been terrified. He feels incredibly stupid to have not gotten Jack help sooner, and even more stupid that he finds you as attractive as he does. Can he be any worse of a person, seriously?

And now, you’re here. At Jack’s soccer game. Which, he guesses he should’ve realized sooner that a lot of Jack’s classmates are on this team, too. And others from different classes, but still in his grade. It was only a matter of time before one of the kids asked a teacher to come. It would only take one, and clearly it did, and he’s unprepared.

Wildly unprepared. And wishing he put on a better shirt.

+++

The soccer game is a disaster, but a wonderful one.

The kids are too young for points to be counted, so it’s just a game of fun chaos. Teams are blurred and never really followed. But they looked like they had a blast out there, so that’s all that mattered.

You, Julia, and Kate split up to see your kids and give out as many high-fives as you possibly can. You listen to their rambles and congratulate them on playing so well. The parents stand by with smiles, occasionally one piping up to thank you for coming.

Aaron is there, too, surprisingly. He’s still smiling bigger than ever.

There’s a man with him, too, who Jack calls Uncle Dave. Jack has mentioned him in class before, and he’s actually Aaron’s coworker. He’s smiling, too, just not as wide, and he keeps glancing between you and Aaron.

Just when you think you’re in the clear, Aaron tells Jack to go with Uncle Dave because he needs to talk to you about something.

You catch Julia and Kate’s eyes when Aaron is left alone with you, and your stomach turns. He doesn’t look angry, but then again, the parents never look angry at first.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Aaron begins, turning so the sun isn’t in his eyes as much. He’s still squinting, and it’s adorable. You wonder why he didn’t wear sunglasses. “I picked a therapist from the list you gave me for Jack, and it’s really been helping him. A lot, so, I just wanted to thank you for giving that to me.”

You blink, stunned. “You’re welcome,” you say slowly before you gain your composure. “I’m very glad that it’s been helping. And to see him playing soccer,” you gesture to the field with a smile. “He seems to really enjoy it.”

“Oh, he does,” Aaron chuckles. “He can’t get enough of it. He talks about it all the time.”

All the time. So maybe he’s spending more time with Jack, then. “Good, I’m really glad to hear that.”

You pause, waiting for him to say something else. The awkward silence lingers for a little too long, and you know what’s coming next.

“I was wondering,” he starts, and lowers his voice a little. “I was wondering if you’d like to get dinner sometime.”

As much as you’d love to say yes, you can’t let yourself. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, that would just be inappropriate.”

“No, no, not as a date,” he backtracks, confusing you. “Just to thank you for-- For helping me get Jack in to see a therapist.”

You raise an eyebrow. “To thank me…for telling you what you should’ve done in the first place?”

He sputters for a moment, clearly losing his bearings. “No, I mean--”

“Listen, Mr. Hotchner,” you smile sweetly, trying to contain yourself. “What would you like? A gold star? For getting your son a therapist after he went through an incredibly traumatic event?”

He doesn’t say anything, and somehow that makes your anger and annoyance worse.

“Listen. The fact of the matter is that you should’ve kept your son in therapy since he lost his mother. And continue to keep him in therapy until he’s old enough to decide if he wants to continue seeing one or not. Because when my mom died, I didn’t get to have a therapist. We couldn’t afford it, and my dad was too out of his mind to even care. It nearly killed me, and my siblings. So don’t tell me that you want to thank me for something that I never should’ve had to do in the first place. You should’ve paid more attention to your son’s needs. Especially since you can afford services to genuinely help him.”

Your voice stayed quiet, thankfully, because you didn’t need everyone to hear you mouthing off to Aaron once again. You realize only halfway through that maybe you shouldn’t be saying these things in a setting such as this, but you’re too into it to stop.

Julia and Kate heard all of it, though. You can see their jaws open, eyes wide. Did you go too far? You don’t know and part of you doesn’t care. It’s the truth, and it hits far too close to home for you to say nothing at all.

Still, to cover your bases, you add one last thing. “I apologize if that was harsh, but it needed to be said. I want what’s best for my kids. And sometimes, that means getting their parents to see that they need to do better.”

You pause, and he nods, and says another quiet “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you murmur. And to keep things from stinging any more, you walk away.

Julia and Kate catch up with you on the way back to your car, both too stunned to say a word until you’re inside.

“Damn,” Julia whispers. “Damn.”

“Holy shit,” Kate says with a small laugh. “Tell ‘em.”

“Yeah,” you exhale loudly. “Let’s just hope I still have a job by Monday.”

+++

You do still have a job come Monday, with surprisingly no meeting with the principal, either. Or a phone call.

You’re suspicious, but trying not to be. Maybe it’s all fine.

You convince yourself that it’s completely fine until it really is. Until you start seeing Aaron occasionally, picking Jack up from school. You aren’t sure how often he’s been doing it, because the only reason you saw him is that you were forced into car rider duty. You’ve always been on the bus lane, but they needed another teacher out front, and that’s where you saw him first.

It caught you off guard the first time, honestly. It had been three weeks since the soccer game, since you told him off in front of everyone. And what did he do this time when he saw you?

He waved. He smiled. And then he scooped Jack up into his arms.

She won’t own up to it, but you’re positive Julia saw the interaction because you haven’t worked the bus lane since. Because Julia suddenly volunteered for it, taking your place.

Now, it’s a bit of a routine. Aaron picks Jack up almost every day, although sometimes there are a few stretches of three to four days where he isn’t present. Those days, you see Jessica, and she smiles at you as well, but it’s different. You got so used to seeing Aaron those days, that when you see Jessica, it feels strange. It begins to feel the way it used to feel when you saw Aaron picking Jack up.

It makes you smile. You’re glad to see Aaron taking the time to see Jack, to put in the time — finally — knowing he has the means to be able to do this.

+++

For the rest of the school year, this is how you see Aaron Hotchner.

Neither of you say a word to each other, except for the final parent-teacher conference — which he arrives early for. The conference is entirely professional, and he doesn’t mention the past. Neither do you.

The final week of school fast approaches, and you’re looking for decorations to put up in the classroom. You try to make the last week special because you know they’re just as ready for summer break as you are.

Part of your “decorations” consists of candy that you’ll put on their desk every morning, which means you’re in the grocery store, in desperate need of candy to entertain your kids. Five different kinds. Something extra special on the last day, though. They’ll get out two hours earlier, but they don’t know that yet (the parents do).

Right as you turn down the candy aisle, you stop dead in your tracks, your cart nearly smacking into someone else’s. When you look up, you realize who it is.

“Mr. Hotchner!” you blurt.

He smiles that soft smile. “Please, call me Aaron.”

You’re not used to calling parents by their first name. You know he’s tried to get you to call him Aaron a few times, but you can’t ever bring yourself to. Instead, you change subjects, peering into his cart.

“Grocery shopping? For…” You raise an eyebrow. “I don’t even have a good joke. Why do you have so many marshmallows?” He has like…six big bags. Of varying sizes, too.

“Long story,” he says, sheepish. “Jack wants to build something out of marshmallows.”

“Does he want to build a whole country?” you chuckle.

“Sort of, yeah,” Aaron laughs. “He said he wants to build a whole city, then eat it. His words.”

“Wonderful,” you grin. “Sounds like a blast.” And a good idea. You might steal that for next year.

“What are you here for?” Aaron asks, nodding toward your empty cart.

“Candy, for the kids,” you reply. “I want to give them a different kind every day for the last week, just to make it more fun.”

Aaron smiles wider this time. “They’ll love that.”

“Thanks,” you say, mirroring his smile.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Or him, quite frankly. Building marshmallow sculptures with Jack? Unheard of. But you leave it alone, just glad he’s spending more time with his son.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to shopping,” Aaron says, gesturing down the aisle. “See you on Monday.”

Baffled, you blink, then nod. “Yeah. See you Monday.”

You see Aaron every day of next week to pick Jack up, and you get to see Jack’s smile grow every day.

On Friday, you head back inside to your classroom, ready to pack things up. Thankfully, you’re returning to this room next year, so you don’t need to pack everything up.

As a tradition, you, Julia, and Kate go out to celebrate the end of the year, so you have to go home and get ready for the night ahead.

+++

Aaron doesn’t know why he let Rossi convince him to come out tonight. Jack’s at a sleepover at a friend’s house, so Aaron has nothing to do — theoretically. Until Rossi decided to drag him out.

Now, he’s sitting in a booth at a bar with a jazz band playing, and he’s wondering how many people Rossi can possibly know. Four people have already stopped to say hi, and they’ve barely been here for half an hour.

As Rossi talks with another friend, Aaron lets his eyes wander around the place, spotting the door when it opens. And you walk in.

He quickly averts his eyes, shifting in his seat. It’s enough to catch Rossi’s attention, and he gives Aaron a strange look, until he sees you at the bar with your two friends from Jack’s soccer game.

Aaron keeps his eyes trained on his whiskey, nodding absently when Rossi says he’s heading to the restroom.

What Rossi is actually doing is heading to the bar to intercept you and your friends, putting all three of your drinks on his tab.

“Thanks,” you chuckle, never one to argue with a free drink.

“You look familiar,” Julia blurts out.

“Dave,” Rossi introduces himself. “I’m a friend of Aaron Hotchner’s. I went with him to a few of Jack’s soccer games last season.”

“That’s where I’ve seen you,” you say.

Dave smiles. His back is turned to Aaron, so he can’t see Aaron glaring at him, wondering what the hell he’s doing up there talking to you.

“Aaron’s here with me, actually,” Dave says casually. “He’s at the booth just behind us if you’d like to see him.”

Kate nudges your arm harshly. “She would.”

“Actually, I don’t know if that’s—”

“Go,” Julia urges. “Why not?”

You give them both a look. “Fine,” you cave. “I’ll be right back.”

Kicking yourself for caving so easily (because you really would like to see him), you walk over to the booth where Aaron sits. Thankfully, his back is toward you, so he doesn’t see you coming.

He beams a smile when he sees you though, standing up to greet you. “Hey, what are you doing in here?”

“Kate and Julia drug me out,” you confess, idling for a moment as you both try to decide if you should shake hands, hug, or just stand here. “You?”

“Dave,” Aaron nods, chuckling. Just standing here it is. “Did he send you?”

“They all did,” you nod toward the bar, where they’re all watching like hawks, no doubt. “Mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” he gestures to the empty space. “How are you?”

“Good, we’re out celebrating the end of the year,” you reply, walking around the table and sitting down on the plush booth cushion. This place is fancier than you would’ve chosen, but Julia heard good things about it from a friend, so you ended up here anyway. “How are you doing?”

“Good, although Dave drug me out for drinks because apparently,” he lifts his drink, “I don’t get out enough.”

“Y’know, that’s funny, my friends tell me the exact same thing,” you laugh. “Dave bought our drinks.”

“I knew he was doing something suspicious,” Aaron jokes, glancing back toward the bar. Dave and your friends have taken over three stools, clearly set on giving you and Aaron some time alone. “Sorry again if he forced you over here.”

“No, he definitely didn’t. My friends did,” you assure him, rolling your eyes. “Oh, I have to ask, how did Jack’s marshmallow city building go?”

Immediately, Aaron digs his phone out of his pocket. “I have a lot of pictures, I’ll just show you.” He unlocks his phone and goes to his camera roll, already smiling at the thought of them. “He had a blast. We went through so many toothpicks. We both had stomachaches by the end of it from eating so many marshmallows.”

He turns his phone to show you the pictures, and without thinking, you scoot closer to him. To get a better look at the pictures, you tell yourself, but you know that isn’t the full truth.

“Oh my god,” you laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “This so huge!”

“It covered our entire kitchen!” Aaron laughs with you, a sweet sound you wish you heard more often. “I didn’t tell Jessica about it, so she had a heart attack when she came over the next day.”

“I bet,” you nod seriously, swiping on his phone as he holds it toward you. “Goodness.” You look up at Aaron. “Did you guys eat all of them?”

“We’ve had a lot of hot chocolate.”

“It’s May.”

“I know,” he deadpans, feigning annoyance, but then he breaks into a smile. “I’ll admit, I’ve been snacking on them maybe a little more than I should every time I go into the kitchen.”

“I would do the same,” you chuckle. “No judgment here.”

He smiles at you and tucks his phone away back in his pocket, and neither of you move from how close you’ve gotten.

“How are you planning to spend your summer break?” he asks, taking a sip of his whiskey. You try not to stare at him too much.

“Lots of getting ready for next year,” you reply, rotating your glass in your hand, focusing on it instead. “Mostly reading for fun, I don’t get to do that a lot during the school year when I’m reading for my kids and grading and such. I plan to do a lot of nothing, basically,” you laugh. “What about you?”

“The same, hopefully,” he says, which surprises you. And he can tell, because he elaborates. “I took a lot of time off from work. I work from home now, essentially. If I absolutely need to go in, then I do, but so far, Dave’s been able to handle it.”

You knew a big change had been made, especially since he’s been picking Jack up from school everyday. But hearing the confirmation makes your heart warm. “I’m really glad to hear that.”

“Me too,” he says. “I know we’ve been over this, but I wanted to thank you for what you said, at Jack’s game—”

Mortified, you interrupt him. “Oh god, I hoped you had forgotten about that.”

“I didn’t forget—”

“I was rude.”

“What you said needed to be said and I’m glad you did,” he protests sincerely. “You shouldn’t have had to say anything, but you did, and I appreciate that.”

His sincerity stuns you. You blink, no words able to come out.

“We can move on from it now,” he says, noticing your hesitation. “I just wanted to be clear that I’m not angry with you for what you said, I’ve actually been the complete opposite.”

“Well,” you chuckle, trying to make light of this. “You didn’t call the school demanding I be suspended, so I knew you couldn’t be that upset with me.”

He stares at you, eyes widening. “Do parents do that?”

“Some, yeah,” you nod. “They don’t exactly like being told by a single teacher with no kids of her own that their parenting skills are shit.”

He laughs, taking a sip of his whiskey. You watch him raise the glass to his lips, but look away before he can catch you. You smile down at your own drink. This is embarrassing.

You thought this little crush -- or whatever it is -- had gone away since you hadn’t spoken to him since the soccer game. Sure, you started to look specifically for him in the pickup area, but that was for Jack. That wasn’t for you. Or, at least, that’s the story you spun for yourself.

“What’s on your list to read this summer?” Aaron asks, bringing your eyes back to his. He’s smiling. “I’ve been meaning to read more -- outside of the books Jack and I read.”

You remember Jack telling you about The Magic Treehouse series that Uncle Dave got him for Christmas, and how his dad was reading them with him.

“What, The Magic Treehouse isn’t enough for you?” you tease Aaron, and he laughs, that sweet sound you can’t get enough of.

You tell him about the books on your shelf at home, the ones you got years ago and have yet to read, and the others that you got this year because you couldn’t resist. He listens to each one, never once taking his eyes off of you.

“I am not going to remember all of these names,” he chuckles.

“I can text them to you,” you offer, a grin creeping up your cheeks.

He mirrors your expression. “You stole my line.”

“Oh, that was your line?” you ask, laughing as you pull out your phone. “Fine, fine, you can have it back.”

“No, you said it first,” he says, still grinning. He hands you his phone as you give him yours. “I’m bad at this anyway.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, typing in your contact information before handing his phone back. “I’ve had a pretty good time.”

He waits a moment, just basking in your smile, the feel of your fingertips brushing against his when he returns your phone. “Me too.”

The night doesn’t end there, as the two of you continue talking. Another round of drinks is sent to your table by Dave and your friends who wave enthusiastically when you and Aaron look over at them.

“Free drinks, at least,” you shrug. “How much money does Dave have?”

“Don’t ask,” Aaron shakes his head. “He’ll never tell.”

As you both finish your first drink and head into the second, you scoot even closer. You bring your legs underneath you on the booth, getting comfortable as you and Aaron start to talk about your favorite movies. He tries to be sneaky and put his arm around you, but you notice and can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“I told you I’m bad at this.”

“No, it’s sweet!” you protest, leaning into his chest. “It’s very nice, I don’t mind.”

He moves his arm from the back of the booth to your shoulders then, his hand resting on your arm. “This okay?”

“It’s perfect,” you smile softly, turning your head to look up at him. “What movie were we on?”

He stares so intently, searching your face. You watch as his eyes gaze over every inch, dropping to your lips, then back to your pupils. “I have no idea.”

“Me either,” you murmur, silently hoping for a kiss. Silently hoping that he’s hoping, too.

And he is. “I know our friends are watching us,” he whispers. “But can I kiss you right now?”

“Yeah,” you grin. “I was about to ask.”

“Well now we’re even,” he says, leaning closer as he smiles. You tilt your head, meeting his lips halfway, not wanting to wait any longer. You’ve quieted these feelings for far too long.

He kisses you long and sweet, his free hand coming to cup your face as yours search for stability in his shoulders. He knocks the breath out of your lungs, literally, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Aaron pulls back for just a moment, just far enough to say, “Was that worth a gold star?”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. “Yeah, Aaron,” you say, looking up at him. “It was.”

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x teacher!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch angst #hotch fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner one shot

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incognit0slut · 8 months

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Right Kind of Wrong (12)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer gets closer to the truth while she feels suffocated by the situation. wc: 4.3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

a/n: Let me give you a long part as a token of my apology for being a slow writer. I hope this was worth the wait

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"WE BELIEVE WE ARE DEALING WITH A MALE OFFENDER IN HIS LATE 20s TO EARLY 30s," Aaron Hotchner announced, his voice loud and jarring. "Based on the crime scenes, the Unsub doesn't have a lot of experience as they were most likely done in a moment of rage."

The team stood in front of the bullpen, facing a room full of officers and agents scattered along the space. Pens clicked and notepads rustled around them as everyone prepared to add insights to their unfolding narrative.

Rossi, who stood by the evidence board, skimmed his eyes across the room. "It suggests someone who is impulsive and might have difficulty controlling urges. This could also be a sign of an underlying mental illness."

"It's likely that there is some kind of history there, either of abuse or trauma in their childhood," JJ added. "It seems that the Unsub may have difficulty connecting with or relating to others and may be socially isolated as a result. He would mostly like to keep to himself."

Spencer took a step forward and carried on with their profile of the unidentified suspect. "The Unsub might also have grown up in a deeply religious environment. Their beliefs may have become twisted and distorted, leading them to believe that they possess a unique calling to carry out their crimes as a way of punishment."

"Based on the victims, the Unsub has targeted specific people whom they believe have harmed one of our witnesses," Morgan added, his voice seeming to turn deeper as he continued, "Y/n L/n."

A jolt of electricity surged through Spencer's consciousness. The human mind really was a powerful thing. Somehow the simple sound of her name projected the memories he had of her and suddenly he was seeing her face, her radiant smile, her beautiful eyes—he was seeing her so clearly as if she were standing right before him.

But then Emily moved past him, jolting him awake from his reverie as she bumped against his shoulder. "The Unsub has a sense of loyalty to her that they are acting out these crimes as a desire for retribution on her behalf. They might believe that they have a connection or some kind of relationship with Ms. L/n."

"We believe the Unsub might know her personally," Hotch addressed, his eyes, sharp and penetrating, scanning around him. "Go through places where the witness is most likely to go. This could be her neighborhood, workplace, daily commute, and so on."

The atmosphere seemed to shift as he finally dismissed the room. Everyone rose from their seats, each one heading to their respective posts and assignments. It didn't take long for the phones to ring in the background, followed by the constant shuffle of feet as the entire space started to come alive.

And as Spencer turned back to his desk, a familiar man pushing the glass doors of the office suddenly caught his attention. His steps faltered while the man looked around the room as recognition hit him. Spencer walked over, addressing him as one of the witnesses. "Mr. Adler?"

The other man blew out a sigh of relief. "Eric, please." He entered the office and gave Spencer a look. "The people downstairs told me I could find you here."

"You were looking for me?" He frowned. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I hope so," Eric replied. "Has there been any missing person report lately?"

The confusion on his face grew prominent at the question. "Not that I know of. Why? Is someone you know missing?"

"A coworker of mine hasn't shown up to work and I can't contact any of his family members," he explained. "I'm starting to get worried."

"What's his name?"

"Oliver Walsh."

Having an eidetic memory helped him recall the name easily. His mind went through all the information he gathered these past few days and remembered the exact name written on the list of employees. "When did you last see him?"

"Three—no, four days ago. He left work looking very troubled."

Spencer's brow was furrowed, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Eric's. "Troubled?"

Eric nodded. "He seemed distracted."

"Do you have any idea why he acted the way he did?"

"No," he responded. And then it suddenly happened. His eyes, previously engaged in maintaining eye contact, drifted upward for a fleeting second. It was as though a switch had been flipped in his mind and the gears of his memory whirred to life. "Although he did seem to act different that day... especially towards Y/n."

His stomach churned. A subtle tremor coursed through his limbs, betraying the unease that was slowly but unmistakably creeping into his consciousness. "...Y/n?"

"You remember her, right? She was with me the night it happened."

Remember her? She was the only person he couldn't stop thinking about. Spencer cleared his throat and leaned forward. "I'm aware Ms. L/n was also a witness."

"Well, Oliver has been fixated on her for so long, everyone in the office knows this. Y/n mostly thinks of it as a joke but I don't think Oliver sees it the same way as she does."

"And something happened between them on the day you last saw him?"

"I'm not sure." Eric sighed. "I saw them talking after work hours, and by the looks of it, I think Y/n was pissed at him." He then crossed his arms, his brows in deep concentration as he seemed to be recalling that day. "She looked like she was under a lot of stress, actually."

"Did you hear what they were talking about?"

"No. But after that, Oliver didn't seem like himself anymore. Then he didn't come to work the next day..." Eric trailed off, his eyes casting down before he mumbled, "I still don't know where he is now."

Spencer's mind suddenly became a whirlwind of calculated chaos, connecting the dots with lightning precision. His heart raced in his chest, pounding out a rhythm of urgency that echoed in his ears. There was no room for hesitation, no luxury of second-guessing.

He needed to move fast.

"Emily!" He called out as he saw his friend walking past them, quickly stopping her pace at the mention of her name. "Can you help Mr. Adler file a missing person report?"

"Uh..." she looked between the two men, uncertainty written across her face. There were questions lingering at the tip of her tongue but she stopped herself when she saw the urgent look Spencer was throwing at her. "Of course," she decided to agree, her attention shifting to the other man. "Right this way."

With a swift, purposeful stride, Spencer left them behind, his footsteps echoing the urgency that had taken hold of him. His heart was still racing when he walked down the corridor, quickly making his way to the room down the hall.

The door swung open with a resolute push, and he entered the room, his senses on high alert. "Garcia."

"I wasn't doing anything!" The woman sitting before him shrieked, closing the window tabs on the screen in front of her. Usually, Spencer would tease her on how unprofessional it was to be doing something else that wasn't related to work, but he didn't have the time to engage in playful banter.

Spencer stepped behind her, placing a hand on the back of her chair. "Garcia, I need you to find Oliver Walsh for me."

She wasted no time. Her fingers danced across the keyboard with a rapid, almost feverish intensity. "Oliver... Walsh..." The soft clatter of keys echoed in the room as she navigated through files and databases. "There are too many Oliver Walsh in this country."

"He works at the same company as Y/n."

"Should've mentioned that sooner." Her eyes scanned lines of text, images, and documents in front of her. "Bingo. Oliver Conrad Walsh was born on 18th December 1991 as an only child—wait, look at this. His family was part of The Haven Hill... a sanctuary of unwavering faith and profound tranquility?"

"Is it some kind of a cult?"

"I don't think so." Her eyes landed on an old article buried within the archives and clicked on the link before a picture of a worn-out brochure greeted them. "Prospective members are welcomed into Haven Hill, a secluded and serene enclave where faith and tradition unite. It seems like a very tight-knit community with a very religious belief—oh!"

Her fingers moved as she navigated through digital records. "Reid..."

"What is it?"

The screen suddenly displayed a grim history of illicit activities and misdeeds, a virtual breadcrumb trail leading them closer to the truth.

"Oliver Walsh was far from being a saint albeit growing up in a religious environment. Along with his group of friends, he was constantly rebelling ever since a very young age. He had to do a lot of community service for it too; underage drinking, burglary, public disturbances—oh dear."

"Attempt sexual assault?" Spencer read out loud.

"...a group of underage boys was proved guilty of trying to violate a fourteen-year-old girl on school grounds—"

"Garcia," Spencer stopped her, not wanting to listen to the rest of the story. "Give me his current address."

"Already on it," she responded, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Spencer's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe this, the suspect was no longer a shadowy figure; they were becoming real, tangible, and within his grasp. Then his eyes caught the shot of the man on the screen. A jolt of recognition surged through him as he scrutinized the suspect's image on the screen. The face staring back at him carried a haunting familiarity.

Memories raced through his mind like flickering images from the past. He remembered him, he always remembered people's faces, and that man right there was the same man he had seen in Y/n's house that afternoon. There was a huge chance this was all a coincidence.

But there was also a possibility of Oliver Walsh being the Unsub.

He didn't know which one was true, but what he did know was that he needed to find out the truth.

The sudden, shrill ring of his phone shattered the intensity of the moment. It was a jarring intrusion, snapping him back to the present. With a swift, almost automatic motion, Spencer reached for the device and answered the call without looking away from the screen. "Yes?"

"Agent Reid," the person on the other line greeted, their words rushed in a moment of panic. "I can't find her."

Spencer pulled his phone away from his face and glanced at the caller ID. Officer Anderson. A sense of relentless panic coursed through him as the realization hit like a lightning bolt. He felt a knot tighten in his stomach, a visceral reaction to the gravity of the call.

"What do you mean you can't find her?"

"I—" There was a sigh. "I-I was watching inside my car and I somehow ended up sleeping. She's nowhere inside the house now—"

"Did you call her?"

"She left her phone in the kitchen."

At that moment, he was acutely aware of every heartbeat, every pulse of blood coursing through his veins. Panic resounded through his thoughts, casting a dark shadow over him. It was a visceral, gut-wrenching sensation that threatened to paralyze him like the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet.

"I apologize, Agent Reid."

But then anger coursed through his body. He was suddenly angry—Angry at the situation, angry at the Unsub, angry at the officer who couldn't seem to do his one simple job. His jaw clenched, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the phone tighter, and his eyes flashed with fury.

"Being sorry isn't going to help you find her," he snapped. He then straightened himself. "I'll be there in ten."

"What happened?" Garcia whispered, noticing the sudden tension in his shoulder.

Spencer shoved back his phone and turned to her. "Garcia, I need you to inform the others, I have to go."

"What?!" She yelped, watching as he turned away from her. "Right now? Where are you going?"

But her question was left unanswered as he bolted out of the door.

There was no other way to explain what being followed by a disguised officer felt like. It was suffocating. Even everything felt suffocating these days, and when she meant everything, Y/n really meant everything.

At first, the idea of protection had offered comfort, but now it was an oppressive weight that bore down on her shoulders. Everywhere she turned, a shadow loomed, an unwelcome reminder of the loss of her freedom. The suffocating sensation was inescapable, restricting her every movement.

The constant surveillance had pushed her to the brink of stress and manifested in the form of tension that coiled within her, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Her patience wore thin and the weight of anxiety rested heavy on her chest. One moment she was on the verge of tears, the next, she was snapping with sharp words, irritable and sullen.

She really needed a break.

"You should go to the gym," Sandy had suggested the other day. "It might help relieve the stress."

After debating whether it was a good idea to visit the gym when she couldn't even remember the last time she stepped foot on a treadmill, she finally decided to slip out of the house. She walked over to the black car she already grew familiar with and stood by the window—only to find Officer Anderson fast asleep behind the wheels.

A pang of guilt tugged at her, but the allure of temporary freedom was too strong to resist. It was an unexpected opportunity, a rare moment of freedom dangling before her like a tempting prize. Was it wise to leave without informing him? Probably not. But she couldn't imagine herself working out—all awkward, tired, and sweaty—with Officer Anderson watching her from the corner.

So silently, she retraced her steps. Her pulse quickened with a mix of trepidation and exhilaration as she walked away. It would be fine, she had assured herself. She would be back before he realized she was even gone. And with that thought in mind, she quickly made her way to the closest gym around the corner.

The place felt both familiar and foreign as she navigated the equipment, but she finally found her place in an exercise routine. Her muscles protested the unaccustomed effort, but with each movement, she could feel the tension slowly dissipating. It wasn't until she could barely feel her limbs anymore that she stopped and left the place.

Even though her body was aching from pushing her body to its limit, she did feel slightly better. Her steps also did feel lighter when she walked back to her home, and her mind felt calmer, and less chaotic than it did when she left her house. But as she approached her street, a knot of unease tightened in her stomach.

The evening's fading light cast long, ominous shadows that seemed to reach out and embrace her front door, which stood ajar. It was an unexpected sight, one that sent a chill down her spine. Two things flashed into her mind at that very moment. One, she realized Officer Anderson was nowhere in sight. His usual parked car looked very much abandoned with no one inside the vehicle. Two, she could probably die if she entered her house alone in this state.

Maybe she should call the police. Maybe she should call Spencer... Yeah right, she didn't even have his number. Maybe she should just call Agent Jareau. Or Agent Prentiss. Yes, that would be a wiser option than to—shit. She clutched her empty pockets.

She didn't even bring her phone to begin with.

She cursed to herself. This was a bad, bad decision. She was probably going to regret this, but she couldn't just stand there and do nothing. So very cautiously, she approached her house, her senses on high alert.

As she pushed the door open wider, it revealed a slice of the dimly lit interior. She couldn't help but hold her breath as she stepped over the threshold, her footsteps hesitant, almost reverent, on the creaking floorboards.

She stepped deeper into her home and slowly entered the dimly lit kitchen. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a figure standing shrouded in shadows, a silhouette in the gloom. A gasp of shock emitted through her lips, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, recognition washed over her like a tidal wave.

"Officer Anderson!" She yelled, placing a hand over her heart. "You scared me!"

"Ms. L/n," he breathed out, his expression softening when he saw her. "Where have you been?"

Guilt washed over her as she noticed the concern in his eyes but she quickly dismissed it, stepping further into the room, and grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. "I went to the gym."

"Why didn't you tell me? I'm supposed to accompany you—"

"You were asleep, I didn't want to wake you."

"You should've woken me up, Ms. L/n."

"You looked like you could use some sleep," she mentioned before glancing at the clock perched on the wall. "I was only gone for like an hour, it's not a big deal."

Officer Anderson looked like he wanted to argue with her, but stopped himself before letting out a sigh. "Can you please inform me whenever you step out of the house, even when I might be asleep?"

His concerned gaze met hers as he turned to her, a mixture of relief and worry in his eyes. Guilt twisted in her chest as she nodded. "Alright, I will."

"And please bring your phone with you at all times."

Her eyes snapped towards the device sitting on the counter. "I did forget to bring it with me, I'm sorry."

With a nod, the officer excused himself, giving her a moment of privacy to collect her thoughts. She watched him go, his retreating figure a testament to his dedication, despite the surprise of her brief absence.

Feeling overwhelmed by the mix of emotions—being scrutinized by an authority, being a potential target of a serial killer still on the loose—she retreated to her room, seeking solace in the familiar confines of her private space. She quickly peeled off her clothes which clung to her body from all the sweat and stepped into her bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room as she turned on the shower, its warmth a soothing embrace. Steam enveloped her, and as the water cascaded over her body, the tension that had coiled within her began to unravel. Under the gentle caress of the water, she closed her eyes. Her shoulders trembled with the tension she had carried for so long, the weight of guilt, responsibility, and emotions too complex to unravel.

How had things turned the way it did? A few weeks ago her life seemed normal, yet now she was linked to a crime with her name at the center of it. This felt so unfair. Why her? Why now? Wh—

Bang!

She opened her eyes.

What was it now?

It sounded... it sounded like a thud coming from somewhere in her house.

The sudden interruption jolted her from the sanctuary of the shower. Her heart raced as she hastily wrapped a towel around herself and emerged from the bathroom, water droplets glistening on her skin. The door to her room suddenly wrenched open with force before a figure she last expected walked in.

"What the—Spencer!" She gasped, not believing who she was seeing. "What the hell?!"

His gaze met hers, and she saw something in his expression that sent a shiver down her spine. It was an anger she hadn't seen before, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. His jaw was clenched, and his normally warm eyes were steely and cold.

"Are you crazy?" He suddenly snapped.

"Me?" She wailed, tightening the towel around her body. "Are you crazy? What are you even doing here?"

"What were you thinking going out without notice?" Spencer's tone was incredulous, his anger unabated. "Without informing Officer Anderson?"

So this was why he was here? To confront her reckless action perhaps?

She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "He looked like he needed the sleep after constantly watching me with little to no rest."

Spencer's frustration deepened, his brows furrowing. "He's assigned to you to keep you safe. You can't just disappear like that, it's irresponsible."

"Well excuse me for being considerate," she retorted.

"You were being reckless."

"No," she argued. "I was being thoughtful."

"Why are you not taking this seriously?" His voice grew sharper, a desperate attempt to make her understand as he stalked towards her. "Can't you understand you were putting yourself at risk?"

"I was only gone for an hour."

"Something could've happened!"

"But nothing did!"

She met his frustration with a defiant glare, holding her ground as he approached her, his tall, intimidating frame only stopping when he was directly in front of her. She saw his eyes drift down her body before pinning his gaze on her face again.

"Y/n, I need you to be safe."

"I am safe! I've been safe ever since you guys put someone to watch over me. I've been safe ever since the same person has been following me everywhere I go, which if you haven't caught on my sarcasm, has made me feel more like in prison than actually feeling protected." Her voice was tinged with frustration as she squared her shoulders, refusing to back down. "It's like I'm being controlled."

"It's not about controlling you, it's about ensuring that nothing bad happens to you."

"I was simply gone for an hour, Spencer," she reminded him again. "No need to go all dramatic over it."

Then in the blink of an eye, the heated tension that had filled the room seemed to snap, leaving them both breathless and disarmed. But instead of reacting with anger or shouting, Spencer's frustration found a different outlet.

"Why are you not fucking listening to me?"

And in a sudden and unexpected gesture, he cupped her face in his hands. Their eyes locked for a fleeting moment, filled with a mix of emotions too complex to name. And then, in a burst of raw and unspoken desire, he leaned in and crashed his lips on her.

She was too stunned to speak, too stunned to respond. There was nothing else she could do but to give in his advance, because dear god, it felt too good to have his mouth moving against hers again. Spencer had kissed her many times before, but not like this. Not this rough. She could even feel the frustration seeping from his body as his lips moved against hers with urgency.

He continued to kiss her, biting hard at her bottom lip, teeth gnashing against the soft flesh of it as a rumbling noise vibrated deep in his chest. Each time she gasped in response at his teeth, his tongue forced its way into her mouth and lapped so mercilessly that she was left desperate for air each time he returned to assaulting her with his teeth and lips.

"Is this what it would take for you to listen?" He growled against her mouth. "Is this what you want?"

Speechless, she responded to his ardor with a fervor of her own, her body leaning into his, fingers tracing the contours of his face. She continued to stare up at him, trying to quickly piece together what was going on, though she nevertheless found herself aroused. It was as if their desire, long suppressed by their arguments and differences, had suddenly ignited, leaving them both powerless to resist the pull of passion.

"Answer me," he barked out.

"Yes," she finally breathed out. "Yes."

Releasing her face, his hands rose in between them. Her eyes dropped down, watching as he gripped her towel with so much force before he ripped it off her body in one swift movement, throwing the material onto the floor.

His eyes roamed over her body, tracing every curve and contour with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. His hands traced over her sides before he gripped onto her hips, tugging her towards him desperately. "I won't be able to restrain myself."

She knew what he meant. She was acutely aware of the tension seeping from his body, all the anger, all the frustration. She understood how hard these past few days had been for him, she could even feel it from the taught in his muscles. He was tensed and from the way he was looking at her with hooded eyes, he needed a release.

And so did she.

The intensity of the moment had ignited a different kind of fire within her, and her previous anger and frustration began to fade away, which was why she found one of her hands caressing his cheek, pulling him closer as he leaned his forehead against hers. "Then don't," she whispered. "Use me."

His eyes snapped to her.

"You can use me, Spencer," she assured him. "Use me in any way you want."

There was a moment of silence as he contemplated her words. "Do you mean that?"

She nodded. She missed this—dear god, she missed him so much. She hadn't realized how much she missed being close to him until she was standing naked underneath his heated gaze.

She pressed her lips against his softly. "I'm all yours."

And then he deepened the kiss and she melted into him, her tongue dancing with his. He slowly loosened his grip on her hips and found its way onto her hand resting against his cheek. He pulled away from her, tugging her hand towards him, his mouth hovering above her wrist.

"In any way I want?" He asked, gently brushing his lips over her pulse.

"Any way you want."

He smiled at her then, the first smile she saw on him ever since he barged into her room unexpectedly. But there was something about his smile that sent her into a frenzy of nerves. It wasn't genuine, it wasn't gentle.

It wasn't until his other hand reached behind him that she finally understood what his smile meant. Because right at that moment, to her surprise, he retrieved a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and with a soft click he carefully bounded one of her wrists, the steel bracelets feeling cool against her damp skin.

And then his smile morphed into a more dominant edge as he leaned closer, his eyes burning with need.

"Any way I want."

>> NEXT PART

a/n: Did you think I wasn't going to insert another smutty scene in between all the chaos? You thought wrong!

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

Text

little miss pressure • armin artlert

armin was notorious for his wild ways and sexscapades but ends up meeting his match in the form of a girl he’d never expect. And it leaves the notorious playboy stuck on his new fixation.

plus size black reader, (y/n) works in the adult entertainment industry, alcohol and weed use, armin and reader are some FREAKS, reader is very hyper sexual and tbh a bad bitch 😝 (this is nasty, I apologize in advance!)

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producer!armin has always been a man synonymous with a less than savory lifestyle. Sex, drugs, fame and glory..it was all he ever desired. To live each day as if it were his last and let the consequences happen as they may. His vices were those every other music industry maestro that got into it for all the wrong..and selfish reasons. Especially when it came to women, which may have been his greatest weakness.

Switching them out like his latest pair of Amiris or his brand new Audemars. Picking them up at every illustrious strip club or his infamous house parties..working his way through a ten mile long roster of girls. Comprised of every bachelorette (and sometimes others wives) this side of South Beach. He didn’t care about what followed or if he hurt their feelings. All he wanted was his one night and a good nut. After that, what they did was none of his concern. And hell, with his good looks, he could get away with just about anything. Until you came along…until (y/n) showed up at one of his little soirées. Invited by a friend of a friend, who had spoken all about the engineer and all his antics. About the hits he’s produced, his track record and extremely high body count. Something that didn’t particularly off put you, seeing as how promiscuity was your entire profession. You were an upcoming adult film star, taking the internet and nsfw spaces by storm. A brick house of a woman who didn’t mind flaunting that beautiful body and working it in ways that many wish they could. Sex with you had been described a ‘spiritual experience’ by many. From the incredible head game to the pussy that had gotten many of your bills paid. A month after working with a couple of creators and collaborating with a few porn production companies, it all took off. Your OnlyFans was jumping and everyone wanted a taste of the newest BBW on the scene. And tonight, you were out prowling for some trouble to get into. You had your fair share of good hookups but you needed the man that was going to give you the type of dick that would change your life. It came not a moment too soon when you got some alone time with Mr. Artlert. Trust, he was more than well aware of your reputation and he wanted to see if it preceded you. And the feeling was mutual..

seeing as how you had only ever spotted him with skinny model types and BBL bodies..not that anything was wrong with it but you were a bit skeptical. Not questioning if you could pull him or anything but if he could truly handle you! Would he truly be worth the hype. But after downing a few daiquiris; making subtle eye contact from the room, he’d approach you with that signature smug look on his face, flashing you a toothy grin and boldly greeting you with a hug. “Yeah, (friend name) told me all about you..it’s very, very nice to meet you, miss (y/n). So glad you made it out.” Sealing it with a classic peck to the back of your hand..by the look on his face, he was more than likely assuming that you’d be easy pickings. Insecure and lacking self esteem as a bigger woman. That you’d be happy that someone like him was even looking in your direction. But was he sorely mistaken! Especially when hours later, after chatting you up the whole night and once the rest of his guests had gone home..he got you up to his bedroom and out of that designer on your body. “Are the rumors true, sweetheart?” “Find out for yourself if you’re man enough.” All it took was a shared spliff and a little more liquor before you had him spread across his own bed, toes curling midair as he released loud screams. “Ohhhhh fuck! (Y/N)…goddamn.” Howling from the head he received..engulfing all eight and a half inches of that veiny girth as if you lacked a gag reflex of any sort. “Yeah, fuck this throat. Don’t play with me.” Emitting strings of spit and covering that cock in it. Flicking your tongue around his sack and momentarily over his asshole. All while jerking him off. Never in his life had he had a bitch so nasty and he loved it! God, he loved how you abandoned every bit of your morals in the bedroom. Making his nut from sucking his dick when no one woman had ever done so before. “They weren’t lying, huh?” “Told you..”

but he was no minute man himself. See, after getting slurped up like that, he had to a little something to prove..and he’d do so by devouring your pussy while he ushered you atop his mouth. “Don’t look at me like that, sit the fuck down, baby. I can take it.” Assured in his abilities and absolutely infatuated with your flavor…moaning as he inhaled your scent and flicked his tongue all over your clit. Kneading his hands into that thick ass and hips, even prompting you to bounce up and down on his face. Causing a collision with those heavy cheeks. “Yes! Right there…oh God..” drawing out high pitched wails from your sore throat and sweet juices from that tightness. Coating his entire chest in your squirt. And from there, he couldn’t let up off of you. At least not until he pinned those legs back and put that dick stomach deep. “Wet this dick up then since it’s like that.” With those substances coursing your systems, it brought forth an even nastier side for both of you..if that were even possible! “Ion think you’ll leave me alone if I do.” Your feet plastered to the headboard as he pounded you relentlessly. “This pussy so fucking good!…” cracking only a few minutes and strokes in because he had never felt it this wet and gushy before. It was like being encompassed and coddled in a warm blanket that nestled his dick as if were made especially for him. Folding you into a mating press and having to bare all of his body weight just to reign you in. His one hundred seventy pounds in comparison to your nearly three hundred. He had piped many women in his young life but you were the true definition of pressure. Making loud smacking noises from the slick dribbling from that plump cunt. The fatter the pussy, the wetter and he was learning first hand. Burrowed over your face and feeding you slow, sloppy kisses, along with tons of slaps and spit..another first for the philandering bachelor. He didn’t want to leave it if he were being frank.

“Yeah, beat that motherfucker up, daddy. Keep going!” Reaching down to massage your bud with those coffin shaped claws as you glared into his eyes and done something that would truly drive him insane. “F—fuck! Squeezing me like that..gonna make me nut all in your shit.” Throbbing and fully swollen inside of you. Posing the statement like a threat but that was exactly what you were hoping for! And when he couldn’t control himself another moment, you found yourself filled to the brim and with a heavy slap to your ass, he’d command you all fours where he all but shoved his face between your cheeks, eating you out once more because he loved drinking it in. Shortly after, stuffing your other hole with a thumb and your pussy full of his still erect cock. Placing a foot on your head, beating your shit in and making you arch your back. That ass moving like water nearly drove him insane. The best backshots he’s ever given. And after rounds and rounds of fucking each other senseless..all for footage for your page, the producer was all but unconsciousness from exhaustion. Housing his entire load into your womb without so much as a second thought. He was sure to be sleeping peacefully, even telling you that you could spend the night. Words he had never uttered prior. Knowing that you had gotten him hooked and it surely wouldn’t be the last you’d be seeing of Armin Artlert. But for now..you’d gotten what you came for..

and you’d be gone before the sun could rise.

@lusts1ck 🫶🏾

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urm0o0m · 3 months

Text

"We Are Going To Ruin You"

Synopsis: You and your s/o have been together for almost a year, but although you were happy about it, your s/o had many flaws, you accepted them, putting your all into the relationship, but a few months later your partner began to let things go over their head. Sooner or later the bad began to outweigh the good. You felt the world around you crumble to pieces seeing the way the person you loved so much began to neglect you and begin acting like the relationship did not exactly exist.

Content Warning: Drugging! Alcohol, Virgin AFAB Reader, Oral, Taking pictures, Exhibitionism, Crying, Mirror, Multiple reader orgasms, Squirting, Full body orgasm, Dacryphilia, Degradation, Praise, Creampie 𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ

You were a mess. You stopped hanging out with friends, doing the things you normally would, you began to even stay home from the academy. You were laying in bed at home when there was a knock on the door, you ignored it the first time, then the second time, until there were continuous knocks on the door. You finally decide to open it, to see your two best friends, Satoru and Suguru standing in front of you.

In their hands they held a bunch of bags, which you assumed were filled with snacks, while Suguru held up a bottle of Gray Goose with his signature expression plastered on his face. “Guys I’m really not in the-” Satoru’s pointer finger places itself on your lips before saying “Shh. We need to get you out of this slump you're in so me and Suguru here thought we’d come over”

You sigh and Satoru leans in “Are you really gonna leave us outside like this? We look like weirdos harassing you” You chuckle before stepping aside “You both are weirdos who are harassing me” Geto stares at you, a look of disbelief on his face. “You dare insult me?” You hug Suguru as an apology. I wasn’t talking about you I was talking about Mr. I know everything over there”

Gojo rolls his eyes. “Yeah like your any better Miss Sassy” “Oh fuck you” Both men look at you before asking “When?” simultaneously. Blush creeps across your face. “Y’all always saying some bullshit but when it comes time to do something, at a loss of words” Geto smiles before grabbing you by your chin and pulling your lips to his. Gojo pops up behind you.

“Save some for me Suguru! I want to taste her lip gloss too” Satoru says and a few seconds later, Geto breaks the kiss, both of you out of breath only for you to get spun around and kiss Satoru. You break the kiss this time before saying “You both know that I’m in a relationship?” Satoru scoffs “A failing one” Suguru hits him and he groans. “Liquor anyone?” Geto asks and you nod, grabbing shot glasses for everyone.

As you walk away, both men stare at your figure and the way you walk and they both swallow, looking at each other, then you then back. “We are going to ruin her,” Satoru says before plopping down onto the couch. Geto sighs, sitting next to him as you come back. “I have the shot glasses!” You sit on the ground on the side of the coffee table opposite to the two men, placing the glasses on the table.

You excuse yourself for a moment to go use the bathroom and Geto pours the three of you drinks and Gojo says “Should I?” Suguru looks at him and thinks for a moment. “Now that wouldn’t be fair to her. She’s still a virgin after all” Satoru sighs. “But on the other hand that would be one hell of a first time” Gojo smirks before putting something inside of your drink.

You return from the bathroom, and everyone grabs a shot glass, you grabbing the spiked one. “Bottoms up” Satoru says before downing his drink, everyone else following suit. You scrunch your eyebrows up, picking up the liquor bottle and saying “What the hell did you buy?” Geto chuckles. “What are you a lightweight or something?” You shake your head. Geto tilts his head to the side. “Oh yeah? Prove it”

You pour 3 more shots but this time drinking all of them and staring Suguru dead in his face. Gojo chuckles. “Look at that Suguru. She thinks she’s big and bad!” Your gaze goes from Geto to Satoru and you stick your tongue out at the white-haired male. This goes on for a while and you three eventually decide to watch a movie. About 20 minutes into the movie you get up to get a snack and you suddenly feel light headed.

You sit back down, trying to collect your bearings.

“What the f-”

The room begins spinning.

Your vision gets blurry

You feel like your going to topple over

You then hear the two men laughing.

“What’s the matter princess? Are you feeling lightheaded?”

You try to piece together what's happening and the other says “I didn’t think it would take that long to kick in” You stand up, attempting to get away from the 2 men when a pair of hands grab your waist, pulling you to him. You drowsily look up to see Suguru with an eerie smile plastered on his face. You blink, trying to get rid of the feeling of not being in control of your own body.

Gojo then pulls you into his arms, pressing his lips against yours. You try to push him away from you but find that you're unable to follow through with that action even though your hands are pressed against his chest. “Awe look at that. She’s still got some fight left in her.” Satoru says once he breaks the kiss. Geto’s hands roam your body, finding the hem of your shirt.

He pulls it over your head before pulling your skirt to your ankles and helping you out of them. You stand before them, almost naked, drugged and vulnerable. “W-what’s happening?” Suguru leans closer to your ear as he guides you to a full body mirror and he says “Let us make you feel good. Better than your partner can or ever will. Let us take your innocence and taint this beautiful body of yours”

You stand in front of the mirror, trying to keep yourself from toppling over. “You look so pretty, Doll. Drugged, dazed and exposed to us. Can we strip you of your innocence? Please?” You find yourself nodding and smirks dance across both of their faces. Suguru’s hands wander around your waist before his fingers lightly trailing above your v-line.

Suguru gets on his knees, looking up at you as he kisses your thighs, hands resting on your hips. Gojo turns your head to face him and he smashes his lips onto yours. Geto softly bites your thigh which causes you to break the kiss, looking down at him. “Eyes on me Love” Satoru forces your head back to face him. “No. Look at me Doll” He says before kissing you once more.

This visibly frustrates Geto and he pulls your panties down and plants soft kisses on your soaked cunt. You let out a soft gasp, breaking the kiss with Gojo. Suguru begins alternating between kisses and allowing his tongue to create small circles around your clit. You groan as you’ve never felt like this before. You began to think if they were right. Maybe they could make you feel better than your partner could.

Your legs begin to shake and you look worried. “What’s happening?” You attempt to say but it comes out slurred. “Already? It’s called an orgasm, Dear.” Geto pulls away and you whine. You mumble something and Satoru shakes his head. “He hasn’t even been eating your messy pussy for 10 minutes and you're already about to come undone” Your hands reach for Suguru, needing some kind of friction.

Gojo pulls them behind your back with one hand, his other, turning your head to the side and biting your neck. Your knees buckle and Geto holds you up by your thighs. You whimper softly and Suguru groans. “God those noises you're making are driving me crazy” He says, kissing your thighs again. Satoru continues biting and marking your neck as you wince and Geto notices this.

Suguru slips his pointer finger inside of your cunt with ease thanks to your arousal and his saliva. You call out and Gojo makes quick work of your bra, taking your nipple in his mouth and biting on it softly. Geto attaches his lips onto your clit again, tongue flicking against it. You groan, hips bucking against Suguru’s face. His fingers curl inside of your hole.

This causes your legs to shake and buckle again which adds more pressure to your clit. Satoru switches to your other breast and gives it the same treatment as the other. He then uses his free hand to pinch your nipple. Tears swell in your eyes because of the pain and pleasure. Your cunt tightens around Geto’s finger and he slips his middle finger inside as well.

This makes you whimper as you feel that knot in your stomach tightening again. Suguru smiles as he sees your face twisted in pleasure. “Watch. Look at yourself in the mirror as I make you cum on my fingers and tongue” You hesitantly make eye contact with your reflection. “Look at you. Drugged and being pleasured” Gojo whispers, his hot breath against your ear.

Tears slip from your eyes and your hips buck up again and Satoru grips your hips, keeps you in place as Geto picks up his pace. You groan, feeling your body temperature rise. “Go ahead. Cum on his face. Let go. Let him make you feel good” Satoru says, kissing your tears away, the salty taste touching his lips. Your hands that are now free, grab Geto’s head, pulling him as close as possible.

Your back arches and you cry out in pleasure as your very first orgasm washes over you. Your body softly shakes and you try to pull away but Satoru’s hands hold you firmly and even though you’ve already came this doesn't stop Suguru. “F-f-fuck wait I c-can’t~” Geto chuckles. “Yes you can Doll” Your breathing grows heavy, chest rising and falling quickly as you try to get away from the overstimulating pleasure.

Your body continues convulsing and Satoru forces your hips to grind back and forth against Geto’s face. This causes your second orgasm to wash over you faster than the two men had anticipated and you squirt all over Geto’s face. This catches him by surprise, he pulls back, slipping his fingers out of you. You collapse, falling onto his lap.

Suguru pulls you into a kiss and you taste your desperation on his lips. “God you taste so good my Love” Geto says, smiling at you. Gojo groans before saying “Do you think she’s stretched enough to take me?” Suguru shakes his head before saying “Probably not. But I wanna be the one to pop her cherry” Satoru shakes his head before saying “You got to be the first to give her head. Let alone her first orgasm”

Geto shrugs “I guess you're right” Gojo smiles, picking up your still slightly shaking body before carrying you to your room upstairs with Suguru following behind the both of you. Satoru lays you on the bed, drinking in the sight of your tear stained face. Satoru snaps at you, gaining your attention. “Doll are you on the pill?” You stitch your eyebrows together, not comprehending the question.

“Are you on birth control my Love?” Suguru asks and you nod slowly. Gojo then strips down, Geto doing the same thing. Satoru pulls your legs to the end of the bed, spitting on his hand before slowly stroking his cock and lining himself up with your hole. “Be gentle with her Satoru. We all know you-” Gojo bottoms out inside of you, slightly tearing you. You scream out in pain, shaking as you try to get away from him.

Suguru sighs, softly stroking your hair. “Satoru, I told you to be gentle! Now look at what you did” Gojo chuckles “I couldn’t resist. I’ve been wanting to fuck her from the day I met her” Tears stream down your face as you tighten around the sorcerer, keeping him from being able to move at all. Your pain and tears turn Geto on and he sighs. “I’m so sorry, Love but can you open your mouth?”

You whimper, doing as you're told and Suguru’s cock slips down your throat. The raven-haired male groans, body shaking slightly. Satoru begins slowly sliding out then back in, your innocence staining his cock. To ease the pain and to help you get used to Gojo’s size, Geto leans over, fingers softly rubbing your swollen clit. You moan around his cock, the feeling of your throat around his cock only enhancing the pleasure.

Satoru groans, trying his best not to hurt you anymore then he already has but ultimately just giving up and deciding to just fuck you. His hips snap back and forth, using your slick and his pre-cum to make it a bit easier on you. Your legs shake and Suguru takes notice of this, beginning to rub your clit faster and adding more pressure.

Suguru pulls out of your mouth, giving you time to breathe as you're about to cum. “I-I’m gonna-!” Geto smiles. “Go ahead. Be a good girl and cum for us. Cum on Satoru’s cock” His voice and praise sends you over the edge, mind going momentarily blank as you cum. “Fuck your getting so tight around me” Gojo groans, pulling out of you. “Suguru, it's your turn. I want to see how good her mouth is”

Both men switch spots, leaving you breathless on the bed. Unlike Gojo who didn’t care if he hurt you, Suguru took his time. “Can I enter you Dear?” You weakly nod and Geto pushes the head of his cock inside of you, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort or pain but finding none. He continues to slowly push himself inside of you, your back arching a little. Suguru groans, trying to keep control of his urges.

“Open your mouth whore” You whimper but do as you're told and Satoru slips himself inside of your mouth, listening to you gag on his member as he enters your throat. Both men groan, finding the pleasure that they seek as they continue to use you. Gojo grabs your phone off of the nightstand and he snaps a couple of pictures as well as a video before tossing the phone back on the nightstand.

Suguru leans over, planting soft kisses on your neck, feeling Satoru’s cock slipping down your throat against his lips. “You're doing so well for us, Love. just a little longer okay? Can you give us one more? I just want one more orgasm from you baby” You moan around Gojo’s cock, only making the male pick up his pace. Your back arches slightly as you tighten around Geto’s cock forcing him to slow down to keep him from finishing on the spot.

Suguru groans before saying “Doll I’m g-gonna cum. Okay. I won’t cum until you do. So be a good girl and cum for me alright?” You groan and Satoru says “Are you sure you’ve never sucked dick before? It feels so fucking good” Geto begins, rubbing your clit, making your back arch more than it already has. “Go ahead. Cum of me Love. I want you to cum on my cock”

Tears slip from your eyes again and your legs begin to shake as your third orgasm washes over you. As you cum, Geto moans before saying “I’m gonna fill you up okay? I want you to be a good girl and take it for me. Can you do that?” You nod and Gojo pulls out of your mouth and Geto reaches his climax inside of you, filling you up completely.

He pulls out of you and Satoru slides himself back inside of you, reaching his own climax inside of you as well. You lie on the bed, your two best friends semen leaking out of your used cunt. Gojo grabs your phone again, snapping a couple of pictures of you again before sending them to your partner with the message attached. “She didn’t cheat. She did us a favor”

Word count: 2,718

Start: October 31, 2023 2:50 PM

End: December 4th 2023 7:40 PM

#Spotify #jujutsu kaisen gojo #geto suguru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk satoru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #getou suguru #suguru #satoru

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elusivecagedmockingbird · 2 months

Text

Orbiting: pt.5

: pt.1° | pt.2° - pt.2,5° | pt.3° | pt.4°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [3.5k smut: ‼️ choking kink, angst, fluff—I think everything's in here] Thank you to everyone who followed and read this fic! I think I tried to fit as much as I could in this chapter to wrap it up, while trying to be consistent with the plot despite cutting it to fewer chapters. Still, here's to an enjoyable read for you guys! Hot off the press, so it's not proofread.

The cold air hangs heavy in the rink as you glide across the ice with Jimin. You move in perfect synchrony, your movements fluid and graceful.

For a minute.

Then, you're back to stumbling over your own feet and disrupting the routine. Jimin manages to steady you, but the exhaustion is evident on his face. You offer a sheepish apology and look back to your coach. A stern expression on her face.

"Y/N, focus! We can't afford to keep making these mistakes." She follows you and Jimin skate in a circle by the sidelines. You nod to acknowledge her, and you let your sight wander to the stands, hoping to see Jungkook sitting at one of the seats.

But you only see vacant bleachers. Suddenly, the argument from earlier sits heavier on your heart.

You miss Jimin's cue for a lift and his hold on you slips before you can even secure the move. You fell mid-lift, and Jimin lost his balance, his feet crossing to regain his footing, but it was too late. He pulls you into him as he uses his own body to break your fall. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as your mind tried to catch up on what had just happened.

"Fucking fuck," Jimin groans below you, clearly in pain and struggling to breathe.

Your coach rushes onto the ice, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration. She knelt beside your crumpled forms, assessing the situation with a practiced eye before calling for an ambulance.

"Jimin, are you okay?" Her attention was on your partner, as it should be, but you wince at her dismissal of you. This was clearly your fault. You knew that the failed lift was a result of your carelessness and lack of focus. With a strained voice, you apologize to Jimin.

He only shook his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern. It must have been pity from seeing you hold your shoulder that he assures you. "Accidents happen, Y/N. Don't worry."

"We need to make sure you're both alright. Let's get you off the ice and check for any injuries." Mrs. Jeon helps you both to your feet. Her attention remains on Jimin.

As you retreat from the rink, the guilt and feeling of defeat dawns on you. And you wish you had Jungkook to cheer you up.

The hospital hallway was quiet; the only sound was the soft shuffle of your footsteps as you made your way to Jimin's room. You carried a box of chicken in your hand, a small gesture of apology for the accident that had landed him here.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the door. You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock gently.

The door creaked open, revealing Jimin lying in bed, his face pale but his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hi," you croak out. "I brought you chicken." You wave the box as you step into the room.

"Ah, finally! I've been starving." Jimin sits up and pulls the table so you can place the food directly in front of him. He smiles at you as thanks.

"You're staying, right? I'm hungry, but there's no way I can eat all of these by myself." You agree and watch him take his first bite. Genuinely laughing at his exaggerated bit of enjoying the chicken.

Jimin moves and gestures for you to sit beside him. And you do.

You grind your teeth, thinking about how to start your apology speech when he beats you to talking.

"I feel like I need to tell you this," Jimin holds your hand, his tone serious, and in turn, you face him to show you're listening. "We're a team, Y/N. When one of us makes a mistake, we both learn from it to be better."

Your eyes brim with tears, touched by Jimin's understanding. He was the one in pain, and yet he's the one making you feel better.

"I'm so sorry, Jimin," you hiccup. "I promise I'll do better."

He squeezes your folded hands in his—the touch a comforting reassurance. You were about to dig in for a chicken wing when the door to Jimin's room swung open.

Your eyes widen at the sight of a sweaty Jungkook.

"Oh, Jungkook?" Jimin's head pops out from your side. Your position and intertwined hands are not lost on you.

And obviously this is what Jungkook only sees.

"Are you—" "Gguk, it's not—" "Sorry, I must be—" All three of you rush out words from your mouths. The sound was a garbled mess of someone talking over someone. Everyone wanting to be heard first.

Jungkook clears his throat. "Sorry, I must be in the wrong room," he rushes and slams the door close.

Breaking Jimin's grip on yours, you clear your throat. Jimin looks at you with a sly smile.

"What?" Your tone is defensive, and your eyes elude his stare.

"Aren't you going after him?" Jimin resumes eating his chicken, and strangely, he still holds that sly look on his face. You excuse yourself, and he only responds with a nod, his mouth clearly busy tearing up the chicken leg.

Jungkook storms down the hallway, his jaw tense, and hands clenched into fists at his sides. Behind him, you call his name desperately.

"Jungkook, please, will you wait," you shout. You managed to capture the attention of a couple of nurses, but Jungkook keeps speedwalking out of the hospital. You try to match his long strides and quicken your pace to reach him but fall short.

You can only watch Jungkook as he drives away. And your heart falls to your stomach at the thought that he left for good.

You re-enter Jimin's room and see that he's made himself comfortable—bed reclined, a sitcom playing on the television, and he seems to be on his third chicken leg. He's laughing at a stupid scene and turns to point it out to you but stops as he sees you standing by his door, on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Y/N. Everything okay?"

At his question, your dam breaks. You rack out sobs, and your shoulders shake. Jimin feels helpless as he can't stand, instead, he beckons you to come closer.

“We’ve been friends for so long, and now, I wonder if we just feel this way because we’ve been together for years. Hell, I survived his snarky exes as he did mine." You chuckle at the memory of 'dealing' with Jungkook's girlfriends. You had the decency to step away from Jungkook when he started dating someone, albeit it hurts. You genuinely wanted Jungkook to be happy in a relationship. But after a few days, it's Jungkook who seeks you out. Inviting you during lunch dates, saying he just wanted his best girls to get along. Somehow, that struck a bad nerve to every girl he was dating at the time.

"What if we find out we’re not better as friends and couldn’t return to how we are?”

“Ah. And how exactly are you now?” Jimin teases.

You didn't know. You both just keep walking out on each other. Obviously, it was your emotions that drove you to these actions. You would argue that you were both reasonable and sensible people, but now you see how every time you were together, all your actions were, perhaps, dramatic and careless.

You sigh. “You know he’s jealous of you?” Your lips curve into a borderline smile and grimace as you look at Jimin. If you were in a better mood, you would find amusement in Jungkook's misplaced jealousy, but right now, what lurks in your mind is the accusation that he thinks you never saw him more than a friend when every day since he drew a bug tattoo on his arm and swore he'll get it permanently so he can have something to remember you by, you started to love him differently. You started to see him as someone you would want to be with every day, so he'll never need something to remember you by because you'll always be beside him.

A chortle from Jimin breaks your reminiscing. “I guess he still remembers me then.” You turn to look at him, brows knitted with confusion, waiting for him to explain what he meant. Jimin takes his time drinking his water before looking at you. His eyes sparkle with mirth and seriousness as if what he’s about to say is something controversial.

“Remember the National Solo Dance in Cape Cod?" You shake your head, still confused about where he's leading with this. "In 2013? This isn’t the first time we’re meeting, Y/N. I mean, at least not for me. You were still skating solo, and I watched your routine. I was in awe at you then, and I wanted to meet you, introduce myself.”

The memory brings a childlike smile to Jimin’s face. “Anyway, cut to the end, everyone was throwing flowers and stuffed ladybugs on the rink, but I wanted to hand you the daisy I held personally. I was waiting by the bleachers when your best friend stood next to me. He must’ve thought I was one of the sweepers, and so he told me he would do it instead. It was ironic since I thought he was also there to pick up your gifts, so I told him I was waiting for you."

"God, I was smitten with how you moved; even as you were bowing, my eyes stayed on you. Jungkook must have seen the infatuated grin I had as you were approaching. I mean, he should know that look; the man had it plastered on his face, too."

"He tried to subtly block you from my view. I tried to squeeze myself in front, but when I saw him hug you, and not just in a friendly way, I knew he wasn’t there to pick up shit.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that day,” you murmur. "I don't remember you, though," you quip with a giggle.

“Of course you wouldn't. Jeon Jungkook made sure you never saw me that day," Jimin scoffed. "Since then, I assumed he was your boyfriend. So, I took a step back. Handed the daisy to the sweeper and admired you from afar." He ends his story with a boop to your nose. Much like how an endearing parent does to a child.

Obviously, this was new information to you. When you think back to that day, you never picked up on Jungkook's action. Though you try not to let it show, you were exhilarated at the thought that maybe Jungkook did really love you since then.

Just like what he said.

Jimin has only known you for a few months, but he can already tell when the cogs in your brain are working overtime. And so, he subtly helps you out one last time.

“Y/N, it’s none of my business, and I don’t know you guys that well yet, so I could be wrong, but take my advice or leave it—you have to give Jungkook more credit. I believe the guy has always been sure of how he feels for you. And if what you just said now is also true, then I think you're trading something great for something even better—the best, even."

Gulping air as you take in Jimin's words, your head bobs in agreement. The thought of walking out and leaving Jungkook hurt tugs at your heart harshly. You see Jimin reach out for a tissue, and just when your hands accept it, he wipes his lips before confronting you with more truth.

“He’s been waiting and choosing you since then. It's your turn to choose him now.”

You huff, eyes rolling but you knew Jimin was right. And so, you thank Jimin and leave to look for Jungkook.

Your initial plan was to rehearse what you were going to tell Jungkook during your drive to the rink. But as you stand in front of the entrance doors, you're hit with the realization that you hadn't done anything but reminisce about the good old days where you were just best friends.

Just.Best.Friends.

You hated yourself for putting the limiting word—just, beside your friendship.

You let your hand fall from the door handle.

You were being selfish, you think. You both were. You have been friends for years, and in those years, you were great.

When you were best friends, you cried, laughed, and even fought with each other, and still found your way back. Asking to be more than what you have right now is being selfish.

Part of you echoes Jimin's words 'something great for something even better'.

Still, if you go beyond the lines of your friendship with Jungkook, you fear the possibility of irreparable damage in the future. What if you do argue as a couple? Will forgiveness come as easy when you're friends?

Sure. You're tempted with the pride of finally calling himself your boyfriend. Even just thinking about it makes you feel giddy—calling him yours, not because you own him, but he's yours to love and to care for without the pretense. No more pretending to be annoyed everything he asks you to watch his game, instead you can stand proudly on the bleachers, wearing his jersey and cheering him on. You can invite him to your practices without overthinking and the fear of his mother seeing through your masked feelings.

You recoil as the door aggressively opens, the hinges squeaking. But the sight of Jungkook in front of you cancels out the unpleasant sensation in your ear.

"Y/N?" Curious eyes zigzag on your face. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital keeping Park company?" Jungkook walks past you, leaving you just a bit wounded. Your initial reaction was to defend yourself, but decide to act against it. You take a deep breath, as if refueling your courage patience, and follow him.

"I need to apologize to you," your words coming out stuttered and shaky. Hearing this, Jungkook stops to face you. It was like a switch flicked inside him. His face softened, his pettiness giving way to concern. He walks back to you, his shoulders no longer squared up and tense.

"Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry about." Jungkook's lips curve into a warm, reassuring smile. But his eyes stay downcast.

Guilt settles in your gut. Were you at fault for taking away the glimmer in his eyes? Your wait for his eyes to meet yours and when he does, he forces out another smile.

But you know him better.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips at the bittersweet realization that Jungkook's heavy heart could be sinking to the floor and yet he would always set aside how he feels to make sure you're fine. But it is with that realization that brings you to a clear decision.

You look down and lay your palm flat on his chest. You might break if you keep his gaze, and so, you think the best thing to face as you confess was his chest—forget how hard his pecs feel in your hand—rather, this is where his heart is.

"Just listen, please," you plead. You still struggle to find the right words. Was it even possible to put into words the love that grew inside you for your best friend? You were used to acting out how you felt. You believed you already bared your feelings to Jungkook through your caring actions. But maybe, just maybe, you fucked up by failing to pick up that Jungkook needs words. He needs you to tell him how you feel.

He needs clarity. And so do you.

Here goes your everything.

"I shouldn't have walked out on you. But in that moment, everything overwhelmed me and I just couldn’t keep up. One minute I was sucking you off and the next thing I knew you were telling me you loved me and—”

“Love,” Jungkook corrects, cutting you off.

“What?” Your head quickly tilts to look up at him and just so you wouldn't avoid his gaze again, he holds up your chin with this forefinger.

“I love you, Y/N, I always have," he clarifies. "And it's a different, stronger love than being friends. But if you don’t feel the same, or you’re not in the same place as I am, I’m fine with that but will you please just let me know?”

Oh, Jungkook.

"What if we try and it ruins everything?" You hiccup. "If it ruins us and I lose you forever. Jungkook, I don't think I—"

“You’re never gonna lose me." He cuts you off again. "Look, I’m not pushing you to make a decision, I just need you to be honest with me."

You sniffle as he wipes the tears cascading from your eyes with his sleeves. “Whatever you decide, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Jungkook yet again assures you.

You lean your forehead to his and take a deep breath. Unexpectedly, a soft laugh escapes your lips. But before Jungkook can assume you were laughing at him or were going insane, you were quick to chase those assumptions away.

"If you would have let me finish, I would have told you I love you, too."

"You do?" he stuttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart.

And his.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. It might be your eyes wetting with tears of happiness, but you think you see the light in Jungkook's eyes come back. "I've felt this way for so long, but I didn't want to risk our friendship. I was scared that maybe I was asking for too much."

Jungkook tilts his head and his hands rub your arms, whether it was to comfort you or him, it didn't matter. "I was scared too, Y/N," he confesses. "I was ready to take anything you could give me as long as I didn't lose you."

The pooled tears in your eyes fall as heavy as the weight of his words. All this time, you had been dancing around each other, too scared to take the leap.

But now you know. He would always catch you and you would do the same for him.

Something great for something even better—the best.

With a sound decision and heart, you call his name.

"Jungkook," your lover's name spills out of your mouth in a breathy moan.

Intertwined in each other's arms, your bodies are pressed together in a tender embrace. Your upper bodies are exposed for anyone entering the locker room to see and at first glance, it's arguably a lovely sight to see, but the echoes of slapping skin and groans of pleasure reveals how Jungkook is fucking away your sanity.

The carnal desire you feel with each drag of his cock to your walls is tenfold. Forget that you're in one of the least romantic places to fuck, because somehow, Jungkook's relentless thrusting inside you, as he holds one leg in his arm and the other raised to his shoulders, feels more charged and fulfilling than all the sex you've had before.

It's like both of you are animals in heat who have been let out after being caged for so long.

Not longer than a minute ago, you just came on his tongue and yet, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you again.

He pulls another wanton moan of his name from you as he angles his cock and rams it into you, his tip hitting your cervix. Your body folds in pleasure and he pushes you back with a grip to your throat.

"This okay?" Jungkook drums his finger to your neck as he waits for your answer. His stiff dick continuously penetrating you.

With mouth agape in silent pants, you whisper a yes. You shut your eyes so your senses can focus on the feeling of his limbs on you. His hands on your neck gets tighter as he fucks you harder.

Jungkook is slowly losing himself in you—getting closer to his own peak. His lidded eyes stay on your face, making sure all you feel is him and pleasure—mindful not to hurt you. He ghosts his lips to yours, catching every squeaky breath you let out with his mouth. He's breathing you in. You're submitting yourself to him and so he takes all of it—whatever you're willing to give.

And you're giving him everything—all of you.

You will your eyes to open, and when you do, you see Jungkook—your boyfriend, your lover, yours, yours, yours.

He closes in for a kiss, merging your bodies, from head to toe, as one. And with one last confession of love to each other, you both climax.

Jungkook buttons your shirt as you tug and zip his jeans. The room is silent aside from coy giggles and soft smacks, be it from your lips or Jungkook's hand playfully slapping your ass.

As you and Jungkook leave the locker room, he links his hands with yours and sways your arms back and forth, much like he did when you walked home together in grade school.

Except this time, he can leave kisses to your knuckles, and you can let the caged butterflies in your chest flutter all they want.

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gurugirl · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/gurugirl/717253767497695232/loving-with-all-these-ideas-in-from-the-asks-l-im?source=share

imagine the surprise on jessica or another coworker's face if they saw them out or her coming to see him at the office and he is being all over her, i know he would go manic if anyone gave even the lightest judgemental look to her but he also would bring it up to her after when they are alone "such a little slut uh, acting all shy and cute around everyone but still fucked a married man without thinking twice and got all those gifts, my little whore..."

okay just gonna write this real quick...

**This is a little blurb to go with The Arrangement**

Took 30 minutes to write this 😬 Apologies for the lack of editing and proofreading. I should be doing other things but felt inspired? lol! Hope you enjoy :)

1905 words

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, DDlg, degradation, slight exhibitionism

Y/n didn’t have a class that day so she spent part of her morning lounging in her silk pajamas, sipping on cold brew coffee, and working ahead on an assignment due on Friday. But she had the idea that she’d go and visit Harry at the office. Plus it’d be fun to see everyone again.

After taking a shower and picking out a cute outfit from their walk-in closet she called a taxi to take her downtown. She sent a quick text once she was on her way.

Headed to the office. See you soon xxx

She figured she’d meet him for lunch. Maybe he could get out of the building for a bit.

Harry was in a meeting when she texted him but he saw her note and smiled to himself. He didn’t need to worry about anything. He and his wife were done. Sean sold him his part of the company and shares so he wasn’t around. And if anyone even so much as dared look at Y/n with any kind of contempt he’d set the record straight. There were already whispers of his new relationship with Y/n. What Sean had done with his wife. The divorce Harry was in the middle of.

When she stepped into the front of the office the office receptionist jumped from her seat and greeted Y/n with a warm smile, “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Nothing to drink for me. I can wait out front until Harry’s done with his meeting,” she said as she gestured toward the sitting area.

“Nonsense. I’ll bring you to Mr. Styles’ office to wait there. It’s a nicer view anyway. I’m sure he’d prefer you there.”

Following the receptionist toward Harry’s office Y/n was stopped by Jessica, “Y/n! What are you doing here?”

Harry stepped out of the meeting just as Jessica and Y/n were speaking.

“Oh! Hi! I’m just here to say hi to everyone. Wanted to see Harry real quick. How have you been?”

Y/n really wanted to get the attention off of herself. She realized most people knew that she and Harry were a bit of a thing at this point. But she still felt shy about being so open with it.

“I’m well. So you’re here to see Harry, huh? How’s that going?”

Y/n looked down at her expensive shoes and then shrugged before looking back at Jessica, “It’s good. Yeah.” She smiled shyly.

Harry walked up behind them at that and grabbed Y/n’s hand and gently pulled at her, “Hi darling. Come with me to my office?” He looked at Y/n as he spoke before turning to speak to Jessica, “You don’t mind if I pull her away for a bit do you?”

“Not at all. Nice to see you, Y/n.”

The moment Harry had his office door closed and locked he grabbed his little girl by her hip and pulled her into him, “What are you doing here?” He put his hands into her hair gently running his finger through it.

“Just wanted to see you. Thought maybe I could get you out of the office for a little lunch,” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh, it’s food you want? Interesting…” he continued with his fingers in her hair, “Thought you came here to show off. Let everyone know who you belong to now.”

“Harry…” she spoke softly, “that’s not why I’m here. I just-“

“Looking so cute and innocent in front of everyone. Showing off all the gifts I’ve bought you,” he nudged at her ear with his thumb over the Cartier diamond earrings he’d bought her, “It’s because you want everyone to know you’re Daddy’s little slut. Isn’t that right?”

“I just wanted to see you. That’s all,” she grasped his hand and moved it up to her lips so she could kiss his fingers, “I just missed you a little today. Thought it would be fun to see you,” she spoke between kisses as she kept her eyes on him.

“Just wanted to see me… Well, here I am. And I’ve already eaten lunch. It’s 2 pm, little girl. I have a feeling you came here for a different kind of fun.”

She smirked and then lowered her gaze to his lips as she dropped his hand and put her arms over his shoulders, “Just missed you, Daddy.”

Harry grinned and gave in to kiss her lips finally. She tasted sweet and smelled delicious. And her cute new dress fit her perfectly. Harry held her out in his arms and looked down over her outfit, “I do have good taste, don’t I?”

Y/n nodded and giggled as she looked down over her dress. She hadn’t worn this one yet. It was a little short and her heels were a little high. She’d also purposely put on a skimpy thong in hopes of him pushing it to the side and touching her or fucking her even.

“You really have everyone fooled, you naughty girl. They think you’re so sweet and shy but really, you had an arrangement with a filthy rich married man who gave you his credit card and then you stole him from his wife and now look at you,” he put his hand around her throat and pushed her back toward the couch in his office, “Shacked up with me, taking all my money, getting fucked every night, and pampered to your heart's content. You’re not innocent.”

Her blood rushed to her extremities and her head began to feel light and floaty like she usually did around him. Her pussy clenched and she moaned at his words and how he squeezed her neck softly.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch behind her as he let go of her neck.

She complied, holding the bottom hem of her dress as she put her bottom onto the soft cushion.

Harry sat next to her and leaned back into the couch, “Undo my pants.” He said but when she hesitated he continued, “Come on. I haven’t got all day. I’m a busy man, Y/n.”

She turned her body toward him and began to undo his pants. Harry brought a hand to her chin and grasped it to move her face to look up at him, “Haven’t got time for pleasantries. I’ve got a meeting in,” he lifted his wrist and looked at his expensive watch, “25 minutes.”

Y/n nodded as she unzipped his pants and sat back to wait for his next instructions, “Bend over the arm of the couch, put your pussy on the corner there so you can rub your clit while I fuck you.”

Quickly she got up and draped her body over the arm of the couch, placing herself at the edge where she could get enough friction from the couch. But truly, she didn’t care if she came or not. She was only there to please him. To let him come and get off.

Harry lifted her dress up as he pulled himself out of his briefs and tsk’d at her, “Desperately wet already. Just as I suspected. You’re going to make a mess of my couch, aren’t you?”

Y/n turned her head to look at Harry as he hooked a finger into the flimsy material and pulled it to the side so he could look at her pussy, “I’m always wet for you, Daddy,” she spoke quietly with rounded eyes.

Harry grinned and nodded, “I know you are baby.”

Harry braced himself with one arm on the back of the couch as he pushed himself into her. They both gasped at the delicious feeling of being connected. Two bodies as one. Moving together, breathing one another in, deeply attached and intrinsically joined.

When he’d dipped in as far as his balls would allow Y/n let out a groan that was too loud so Harry used his free hand to cover her mouth as he continued to rail into her, “Shhh… thought you wanted to keep up the appearance of being innocent. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what kind of whore you are, getting fucked on the couch in my office right next to the break room. Anyone in there could have heard you. Is that what you want?” Harry panted his words as he worked himself into her, the couch began to lightly bang into the wall at his thrusts, “You want people to hear how good I give it to you? How hard I make you come?”

Y/n’s eyes were rolled into the back of her head. She was happy to be a hole for him to come in but his cock always felt so good inside of her. And the cloth of the arm of the couch pressed into her pelvis and clit just right. She was glad his hand was over her mouth because he was driving into her deeply and each time he bottomed out she grunted into his hand unintentionally.

Harry spoke quietly into her ear as he continued fucking her, his balls whacking into her flesh, the obscene sound of wet pussy being fucked and skin colliding in repeated cadence in time with the couch hitting the wall, “I bet they all have their ears pressed to the door right now. They can all hear you little pussy getting fucked hard. That’s what you wanted, Y/n? Wanted to show off how good your cunt gets pounded?”

Her gurgles were muffled and Harry’s palm was wet with her saliva. He could tell she was drooling. He could see how red her face was and that she had goosebumps on her skin. Her eyes were fluttering. She was about to come. Which was good because so was he and he had to get going. His guests would be meeting with him in his office and he knew there would be a bit of cleanup involved.

“Gonna come on Daddy’s cock again? Didn’t you just come on his cock this morning, baby? Fffuck, my little girl is so needy. Needs Daddy’s come inside of her, doesn’t she? Poor thing. Wants to get knocked up and keep me forever doesn’t she?”

Y/n moaned and her walls clenched Harry’s cock as her orgasm took over. Her limbs stiffened and she grasped onto the material of the couch. Yes. She wanted all of that. If she could keep him forever, make him give her babies, and then he’d have to keep her.

Harry hissed at how tight her pussy gripped him but he continued his thrusts until he began spurting into her, punching into her deeply so his come could coat her and fill her insides.

Y/n opened her eyes when Harry released his hand from over her mouth and put her panties back into place. He helped her up and kept her in his arms, kissing her temple, “Okay to walk out of here like you are? Or do need a minute?”

She gulped and wiped under her eyes with one hand as she clutched onto Harry’s arm with her other, “I just need to wipe my face and calm myself a little.”

“Whatever you need. I have a mirror behind the cabinet door if you need it.”

Y/n straightened herself out and waved her hands over her face to cool down a bit as Harry wiped up the couch and then got his laptop ready for the meeting.

“Okay. I’m good now,” she smiled as she picked up her purse from the coffee table.

Harry kissed her forehead, “See you tonight at home at 7.”

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